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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/421-0.txt b/421-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eaa03d2 --- /dev/null +++ b/421-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8474 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 421 *** + KIDNAPPED + BEING + MEMOIRS OF THE ADVENTURES OF + DAVID BALFOUR + IN THE YEAR 1751 + + + + HOW HE WAS KIDNAPPED AND CAST AWAY; HIS SUFFERINGS IN + A DESERT ISLE; HIS JOURNEY IN THE WILD HIGHLANDS; + HIS ACQUAINTANCE WITH ALAN BRECK STEWART + AND OTHER NOTORIOUS HIGHLAND JACOBITES; + WITH ALL THAT HE SUFFERED AT THE + HANDS OF HIS UNCLE, EBENEZER + BALFOUR OF SHAWS, FALSELY + SO CALLED + + WRITTEN BY HIMSELF AND NOW SET FORTH BY + ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON + WITH A PREFACE BY MRS. STEVENSON + + + + +PREFACE TO THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION + + +While my husband and Mr. Henley were engaged in writing plays in +Bournemouth they made a number of titles, hoping to use them in the +future. Dramatic composition was not what my husband preferred, but +the torrent of Mr. Henley’s enthusiasm swept him off his feet. However, +after several plays had been finished, and his health seriously impaired +by his endeavours to keep up with Mr. Henley, play writing was abandoned +forever, and my husband returned to his legitimate vocation. Having +added one of the titles, The Hanging Judge, to the list of projected +plays, now thrown aside, and emboldened by my husband’s offer to give me +any help needed, I concluded to try and write it myself. + +As I wanted a trial scene in the Old Bailey, I chose the period of 1700 +for my purpose; but being shamefully ignorant of my subject, and my +husband confessing to little more knowledge than I possessed, a London +bookseller was commissioned to send us everything he could procure +bearing on Old Bailey trials. A great package came in response to our +order, and very soon we were both absorbed, not so much in the trials +as in following the brilliant career of a Mr. Garrow, who appeared as +counsel in many of the cases. We sent for more books, and yet more, +still intent on Mr. Garrow, whose subtle cross-examination of witnesses +and masterly, if sometimes startling, methods of arriving at the truth +seemed more thrilling to us than any novel. + +Occasionally other trials than those of the Old Bailey would be included +in the package of books we received from London; among these my husband +found and read with avidity:-- + + THE + TRIAL + OF + JAMES STEWART + in Aucharn in Duror of Appin + FOR THE + Murder of COLIN CAMPBELL of Glenure, Efq; + Factor for His Majefty on the forfeited + Estate of Ardfhiel. + +My husband was always interested in this period of his country’s +history, and had already the intention of writing a story that should +turn on the Appin murder. The tale was to be of a boy, David Balfour, +supposed to belong to my husband’s own family, who should travel in +Scotland as though it were a foreign country, meeting with various +adventures and misadventures by the way. From the trial of James Stewart +my husband gleaned much valuable material for his novel, the most +important being the character of Alan Breck. Aside from having described +him as “smallish in stature,” my husband seems to have taken Alan +Breck’s personal appearance, even to his clothing, from the book. + +A letter from James Stewart to Mr. John Macfarlane, introduced as +evidence in the trial, says: “There is one Alan Stewart, a distant +friend of the late Ardshiel’s, who is in the French service, and came +over in March last, as he said to some, in order to settle at home; to +others, that he was to go soon back; and was, as I hear, the day that +the murder was committed, seen not far from the place where it happened, +and is not now to be seen; by which it is believed he was the actor. He +is a desperate foolish fellow; and if he is guilty, came to the country +for that very purpose. He is a tall, pock-pitted lad, very black hair, +and wore a blue coat and metal buttons, an old red vest, and breeches of +the same colour.” A second witness testified to having seen him wearing +“a blue coat with silver buttons, a red waistcoat, black shag breeches, +tartan hose, and a feathered hat, with a big coat, dun coloured,” a +costume referred to by one of the counsel as “French cloathes which were +remarkable.” + +There are many incidents given in the trial that point to Alan’s fiery +spirit and Highland quickness to take offence. One witness “declared +also That the said Alan Breck threatened that he would challenge +Ballieveolan and his sons to fight because of his removing the +declarant last year from Glenduror.” On another page: “Duncan Campbell, +change-keeper at Annat, aged thirty-five years, married, witness cited, +sworn, purged and examined ut supra, depones, That, in the month of +April last, the deponent met with Alan Breck Stewart, with whom he was +not acquainted, and John Stewart, in Auchnacoan, in the house of the +walk miller of Auchofragan, and went on with them to the house: Alan +Breck Stewart said, that he hated all the name of Campbell; and the +deponent said, he had no reason for doing so: But Alan said, he had very +good reason for it: that thereafter they left that house; and, after +drinking a dram at another house, came to the deponent’s house, where +they went in, and drunk some drams, and Alan Breck renewed the former +Conversation; and the deponent, making the same answer, Alan said, that, +if the deponent had any respect for his friends, he would tell them, +that if they offered to turn out the possessors of Ardshiel’s estate, he +would make black cocks of them, before they entered into possession by +which the deponent understood shooting them, it being a common phrase in +the country.” + +Some time after the publication of Kidnapped we stopped for a short +while in the Appin country, where we were surprised and interested to +discover that the feeling concerning the murder of Glenure (the “Red +Fox,” also called “Colin Roy”) was almost as keen as though the tragedy +had taken place the day before. For several years my husband received +letters of expostulation or commendation from members of the Campbell +and Stewart clans. I have in my possession a paper, yellow with age, +that was sent soon after the novel appeared, containing “The Pedigree of +the Family of Appine,” wherein it is said that “Alan 3rd Baron of Appine +was not killed at Flowdoun, tho there, but lived to a great old age. He +married Cameron Daughter to Ewen Cameron of Lochiel.” Following this +is a paragraph stating that “John Stewart 1st of Ardsheall of his +descendants Alan Breck had better be omitted. Duncan Baan Stewart in +Achindarroch his father was a Bastard.” + +One day, while my husband was busily at work, I sat beside him reading +an old cookery book called The Compleat Housewife: or Accomplish’d +Gentlewoman’s Companion. In the midst of receipts for “Rabbits, and +Chickens mumbled, Pickled Samphire, Skirret Pye, Baked Tansy,” and +other forgotten delicacies, there were directions for the preparation +of several lotions for the preservation of beauty. One of these was so +charming that I interrupted my husband to read it aloud. “Just what +I wanted!” he exclaimed; and the receipt for the “Lily of the Valley +Water” was instantly incorporated into Kidnapped. + +F. V. DE G. S. + + + + +DEDICATION + +MY DEAR CHARLES BAXTER: + + +If you ever read this tale, you will likely ask yourself more questions +than I should care to answer: as for instance how the Appin murder has +come to fall in the year 1751, how the Torran rocks have crept so near +to Earraid, or why the printed trial is silent as to all that touches +David Balfour. These are nuts beyond my ability to crack. But if you +tried me on the point of Alan’s guilt or innocence, I think I could +defend the reading of the text. To this day you will find the tradition +of Appin clear in Alan’s favour. If you inquire, you may even hear that +the descendants of “the other man” who fired the shot are in the country +to this day. But that other man’s name, inquire as you please, you shall +not hear; for the Highlander values a secret for itself and for the +congenial exercise of keeping it. I might go on for long to justify one +point and own another indefensible; it is more honest to confess at once +how little I am touched by the desire of accuracy. This is no furniture +for the scholar’s library, but a book for the winter evening school-room +when the tasks are over and the hour for bed draws near; and honest +Alan, who was a grim old fire-eater in his day has in this new avatar +no more desperate purpose than to steal some young gentleman’s attention +from his Ovid, carry him awhile into the Highlands and the last century, +and pack him to bed with some engaging images to mingle with his dreams. + +As for you, my dear Charles, I do not even ask you to like this tale. +But perhaps when he is older, your son will; he may then be pleased to +find his father’s name on the fly-leaf; and in the meanwhile it pleases +me to set it there, in memory of many days that were happy and some (now +perhaps as pleasant to remember) that were sad. If it is strange for +me to look back from a distance both in time and space on these bygone +adventures of our youth, it must be stranger for you who tread the same +streets--who may to-morrow open the door of the old Speculative, +where we begin to rank with Scott and Robert Emmet and the beloved and +inglorious Macbean--or may pass the corner of the close where that great +society, the L. J. R., held its meetings and drank its beer, sitting in +the seats of Burns and his companions. I think I see you, moving there +by plain daylight, beholding with your natural eyes those places that +have now become for your companion a part of the scenery of dreams. How, +in the intervals of present business, the past must echo in your memory! +Let it not echo often without some kind thoughts of your friend, + +R.L.S. SKERRYVORE, BOURNEMOUTH. + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER + + PREFACE TO THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION + DEDICATION + I I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + II I COME TO MY JOURNEY’S END + III I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE + IV I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + V I GO TO THE QUEEN’S FERRY + VI WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN’S FERRY + VII I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG “COVENANT” OF DYSART + VIII THE ROUND-HOUSE + IX THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD + X THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE + XI THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER + XII I HEAR OF THE “RED FOX” + XIII THE LOSS OF THE BRIG + XIV THE ISLET + XV THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL + XVI THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN + XVII THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX + XVIIII TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE + XIX THE HOUSE OF FEAR + XX THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS + XXI THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH + XXII THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR + XXIII CLUNY’S CAGE + XXIV THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE QUARREL IN BALQUHIDDER + XXVI END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH + XXVII I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR + XXVIII I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE + XXIX I COME INTO MY KINGDOM + XXX GOOD-BYE + + + + +CHAPTER I + +I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + + +I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in +the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the +last time out of the door of my father’s house. The sun began to shine +upon the summit of the hills as I went down the road; and by the time +I had come as far as the manse, the blackbirds were whistling in the +garden lilacs, and the mist that hung around the valley in the time of +the dawn was beginning to arise and die away. + +Mr. Campbell, the minister of Essendean, was waiting for me by the +garden gate, good man! He asked me if I had breakfasted; and hearing +that I lacked for nothing, he took my hand in both of his and clapped it +kindly under his arm. + +“Well, Davie, lad,” said he, “I will go with you as far as the ford, to +set you on the way.” And we began to walk forward in silence. + +“Are ye sorry to leave Essendean?” said he, after awhile. + +“Why, sir,” said I, “if I knew where I was going, or what was likely +to become of me, I would tell you candidly. Essendean is a good place +indeed, and I have been very happy there; but then I have never been +anywhere else. My father and mother, since they are both dead, I shall +be no nearer to in Essendean than in the Kingdom of Hungary, and, to +speak truth, if I thought I had a chance to better myself where I was +going I would go with a good will.” + +“Ay?” said Mr. Campbell. “Very well, Davie. Then it behoves me to tell +your fortune; or so far as I may. When your mother was gone, and your +father (the worthy, Christian man) began to sicken for his end, he gave +me in charge a certain letter, which he said was your inheritance. ‘So +soon,’ says he, ‘as I am gone, and the house is redd up and the gear +disposed of’ (all which, Davie, hath been done), ‘give my boy this +letter into his hand, and start him off to the house of Shaws, not far +from Cramond. That is the place I came from,’ he said, ‘and it’s where +it befits that my boy should return. He is a steady lad,’ your father +said, ‘and a canny goer; and I doubt not he will come safe, and be well +liked where he goes.’” + +“The house of Shaws!” I cried. “What had my poor father to do with the +house of Shaws?” + +“Nay,” said Mr. Campbell, “who can tell that for a surety? But the name +of that family, Davie, boy, is the name you bear--Balfours of Shaws: +an ancient, honest, reputable house, peradventure in these latter +days decayed. Your father, too, was a man of learning as befitted his +position; no man more plausibly conducted school; nor had he the manner +or the speech of a common dominie; but (as ye will yourself remember) +I took aye a pleasure to have him to the manse to meet the gentry; and +those of my own house, Campbell of Kilrennet, Campbell of Dunswire, +Campbell of Minch, and others, all well-kenned gentlemen, had pleasure +in his society. Lastly, to put all the elements of this affair before +you, here is the testamentary letter itself, superscrived by the own +hand of our departed brother.” + +He gave me the letter, which was addressed in these words: “To the hands +of Ebenezer Balfour, Esquire, of Shaws, in his house of Shaws, these +will be delivered by my son, David Balfour.” My heart was beating hard +at this great prospect now suddenly opening before a lad of seventeen +years of age, the son of a poor country dominie in the Forest of +Ettrick. + +“Mr. Campbell,” I stammered, “and if you were in my shoes, would you +go?” + +“Of a surety,” said the minister, “that would I, and without pause. +A pretty lad like you should get to Cramond (which is near in by +Edinburgh) in two days of walk. If the worst came to the worst, and +your high relations (as I cannot but suppose them to be somewhat of your +blood) should put you to the door, ye can but walk the two days back +again and risp at the manse door. But I would rather hope that ye shall +be well received, as your poor father forecast for you, and for anything +that I ken come to be a great man in time. And here, Davie, laddie,” he +resumed, “it lies near upon my conscience to improve this parting, and +set you on the right guard against the dangers of the world.” + +Here he cast about for a comfortable seat, lighted on a big boulder +under a birch by the trackside, sate down upon it with a very long, +serious upper lip, and the sun now shining in upon us between two peaks, +put his pocket-handkerchief over his cocked hat to shelter him. There, +then, with uplifted forefinger, he first put me on my guard against a +considerable number of heresies, to which I had no temptation, and urged +upon me to be instant in my prayers and reading of the Bible. That done, +he drew a picture of the great house that I was bound to, and how I +should conduct myself with its inhabitants. + +“Be soople, Davie, in things immaterial,” said he. “Bear ye this in +mind, that, though gentle born, ye have had a country rearing. Dinnae +shame us, Davie, dinnae shame us! In yon great, muckle house, with all +these domestics, upper and under, show yourself as nice, as circumspect, +as quick at the conception, and as slow of speech as any. As for the +laird--remember he’s the laird; I say no more: honour to whom honour. +It’s a pleasure to obey a laird; or should be, to the young.” + +“Well, sir,” said I, “it may be; and I’ll promise you I’ll try to make +it so.” + +“Why, very well said,” replied Mr. Campbell, heartily. “And now to come +to the material, or (to make a quibble) to the immaterial. I have here +a little packet which contains four things.” He tugged it, as he spoke, +and with some great difficulty, from the skirt pocket of his coat. “Of +these four things, the first is your legal due: the little pickle money +for your father’s books and plenishing, which I have bought (as I have +explained from the first) in the design of re-selling at a profit to +the incoming dominie. The other three are gifties that Mrs. Campbell and +myself would be blithe of your acceptance. The first, which is round, +will likely please ye best at the first off-go; but, O Davie, laddie, +it’s but a drop of water in the sea; it’ll help you but a step, and +vanish like the morning. The second, which is flat and square and +written upon, will stand by you through life, like a good staff for the +road, and a good pillow to your head in sickness. And as for the last, +which is cubical, that’ll see you, it’s my prayerful wish, into a better +land.” + +With that he got upon his feet, took off his hat, and prayed a little +while aloud, and in affecting terms, for a young man setting out into +the world; then suddenly took me in his arms and embraced me very hard; +then held me at arm’s length, looking at me with his face all working +with sorrow; and then whipped about, and crying good-bye to me, set off +backward by the way that we had come at a sort of jogging run. It might +have been laughable to another; but I was in no mind to laugh. I watched +him as long as he was in sight; and he never stopped hurrying, nor once +looked back. Then it came in upon my mind that this was all his sorrow +at my departure; and my conscience smote me hard and fast, because I, +for my part, was overjoyed to get away out of that quiet country-side, +and go to a great, busy house, among rich and respected gentlefolk of my +own name and blood. + +“Davie, Davie,” I thought, “was ever seen such black ingratitude? Can +you forget old favours and old friends at the mere whistle of a name? +Fie, fie; think shame.” + +And I sat down on the boulder the good man had just left, and opened the +parcel to see the nature of my gifts. That which he had called cubical, +I had never had much doubt of; sure enough it was a little Bible, to +carry in a plaid-neuk. That which he had called round, I found to be a +shilling piece; and the third, which was to help me so wonderfully both +in health and sickness all the days of my life, was a little piece of +coarse yellow paper, written upon thus in red ink: + + +“TO MAKE LILLY OF THE VALLEY WATER.--Take the flowers of lilly of the +valley and distil them in sack, and drink a spooneful or two as there is +occasion. It restores speech to those that have the dumb palsey. It is +good against the Gout; it comforts the heart and strengthens the memory; +and the flowers, put into a Glasse, close stopt, and set into ane hill +of ants for a month, then take it out, and you will find a liquor which +comes from the flowers, which keep in a vial; it is good, ill or well, +and whether man or woman.” + + + +And then, in the minister’s own hand, was added: + +“Likewise for sprains, rub it in; and for the cholic, a great spooneful +in the hour.” + + +To be sure, I laughed over this; but it was rather tremulous laughter; +and I was glad to get my bundle on my staff’s end and set out over the +ford and up the hill upon the farther side; till, just as I came on the +green drove-road running wide through the heather, I took my last look +of Kirk Essendean, the trees about the manse, and the big rowans in the +kirkyard where my father and my mother lay. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +I COME TO MY JOURNEY’S END + + +On the forenoon of the second day, coming to the top of a hill, I saw +all the country fall away before me down to the sea; and in the midst +of this descent, on a long ridge, the city of Edinburgh smoking like +a kiln. There was a flag upon the castle, and ships moving or lying +anchored in the firth; both of which, for as far away as they were, I +could distinguish clearly; and both brought my country heart into my +mouth. + +Presently after, I came by a house where a shepherd lived, and got a +rough direction for the neighbourhood of Cramond; and so, from one to +another, worked my way to the westward of the capital by Colinton, till +I came out upon the Glasgow road. And there, to my great pleasure and +wonder, I beheld a regiment marching to the fifes, every foot in time; +an old red-faced general on a grey horse at the one end, and at the +other the company of Grenadiers, with their Pope’s-hats. The pride of +life seemed to mount into my brain at the sight of the red coats and the +hearing of that merry music. + +A little farther on, and I was told I was in Cramond parish, and began +to substitute in my inquiries the name of the house of Shaws. It was a +word that seemed to surprise those of whom I sought my way. At first I +thought the plainness of my appearance, in my country habit, and that +all dusty from the road, consorted ill with the greatness of the place +to which I was bound. But after two, or maybe three, had given me the +same look and the same answer, I began to take it in my head there was +something strange about the Shaws itself. + +The better to set this fear at rest, I changed the form of my inquiries; +and spying an honest fellow coming along a lane on the shaft of his +cart, I asked him if he had ever heard tell of a house they called the +house of Shaws. + +He stopped his cart and looked at me, like the others. + +“Ay” said he. “What for?” + +“It’s a great house?” I asked. + +“Doubtless,” says he. “The house is a big, muckle house.” + +“Ay,” said I, “but the folk that are in it?” + +“Folk?” cried he. “Are ye daft? There’s nae folk there--to call folk.” + +“What?” say I; “not Mr. Ebenezer?” + +“Ou, ay” says the man; “there’s the laird, to be sure, if it’s him +you’re wanting. What’ll like be your business, mannie?” + +“I was led to think that I would get a situation,” I said, looking as +modest as I could. + +“What?” cries the carter, in so sharp a note that his very horse +started; and then, “Well, mannie,” he added, “it’s nane of my affairs; +but ye seem a decent-spoken lad; and if ye’ll take a word from me, ye’ll +keep clear of the Shaws.” + +The next person I came across was a dapper little man in a beautiful +white wig, whom I saw to be a barber on his rounds; and knowing well +that barbers were great gossips, I asked him plainly what sort of a man +was Mr. Balfour of the Shaws. + +“Hoot, hoot, hoot,” said the barber, “nae kind of a man, nae kind of a +man at all;” and began to ask me very shrewdly what my business was; +but I was more than a match for him at that, and he went on to his next +customer no wiser than he came. + +I cannot well describe the blow this dealt to my illusions. The more +indistinct the accusations were, the less I liked them, for they left +the wider field to fancy. What kind of a great house was this, that all +the parish should start and stare to be asked the way to it? or what +sort of a gentleman, that his ill-fame should be thus current on the +wayside? If an hour’s walking would have brought me back to Essendean, I +had left my adventure then and there, and returned to Mr. Campbell’s. +But when I had come so far a way already, mere shame would not suffer me +to desist till I had put the matter to the touch of proof; I was bound, +out of mere self-respect, to carry it through; and little as I liked +the sound of what I heard, and slow as I began to travel, I still kept +asking my way and still kept advancing. + +It was drawing on to sundown when I met a stout, dark, sour-looking +woman coming trudging down a hill; and she, when I had put my usual +question, turned sharp about, accompanied me back to the summit she had +just left, and pointed to a great bulk of building standing very bare +upon a green in the bottom of the next valley. The country was pleasant +round about, running in low hills, pleasantly watered and wooded, and +the crops, to my eyes, wonderfully good; but the house itself appeared +to be a kind of ruin; no road led up to it; no smoke arose from any of +the chimneys; nor was there any semblance of a garden. My heart sank. +“That!” I cried. + +The woman’s face lit up with a malignant anger. “That is the house of +Shaws!” she cried. “Blood built it; blood stopped the building of it; +blood shall bring it down. See here!” she cried again--“I spit upon +the ground, and crack my thumb at it! Black be its fall! If ye see the +laird, tell him what ye hear; tell him this makes the twelve hunner and +nineteen time that Jennet Clouston has called down the curse on him +and his house, byre and stable, man, guest, and master, wife, miss, or +bairn--black, black be their fall!” + +And the woman, whose voice had risen to a kind of eldritch sing-song, +turned with a skip, and was gone. I stood where she left me, with my +hair on end. In those days folk still believed in witches and trembled +at a curse; and this one, falling so pat, like a wayside omen, to arrest +me ere I carried out my purpose, took the pith out of my legs. + +I sat me down and stared at the house of Shaws. The more I looked, +the pleasanter that country-side appeared; being all set with hawthorn +bushes full of flowers; the fields dotted with sheep; a fine flight of +rooks in the sky; and every sign of a kind soil and climate; and yet the +barrack in the midst of it went sore against my fancy. + +Country folk went by from the fields as I sat there on the side of the +ditch, but I lacked the spirit to give them a good-e’en. At last the sun +went down, and then, right up against the yellow sky, I saw a scroll of +smoke go mounting, not much thicker, as it seemed to me, than the smoke +of a candle; but still there it was, and meant a fire, and warmth, and +cookery, and some living inhabitant that must have lit it; and this +comforted my heart. + +So I set forward by a little faint track in the grass that led in my +direction. It was very faint indeed to be the only way to a place +of habitation; yet I saw no other. Presently it brought me to stone +uprights, with an unroofed lodge beside them, and coats of arms upon +the top. A main entrance it was plainly meant to be, but never finished; +instead of gates of wrought iron, a pair of hurdles were tied across +with a straw rope; and as there were no park walls, nor any sign of +avenue, the track that I was following passed on the right hand of the +pillars, and went wandering on toward the house. + +The nearer I got to that, the drearier it appeared. It seemed like the +one wing of a house that had never been finished. What should have been +the inner end stood open on the upper floors, and showed against the sky +with steps and stairs of uncompleted masonry. Many of the windows were +unglazed, and bats flew in and out like doves out of a dove-cote. + +The night had begun to fall as I got close; and in three of the lower +windows, which were very high up and narrow, and well barred, the +changing light of a little fire began to glimmer. Was this the palace +I had been coming to? Was it within these walls that I was to seek +new friends and begin great fortunes? Why, in my father’s house on +Essen-Waterside, the fire and the bright lights would show a mile away, +and the door open to a beggar’s knock! + +I came forward cautiously, and giving ear as I came, heard some one +rattling with dishes, and a little dry, eager cough that came in fits; +but there was no sound of speech, and not a dog barked. + +The door, as well as I could see it in the dim light, was a great piece +of wood all studded with nails; and I lifted my hand with a faint heart +under my jacket, and knocked once. Then I stood and waited. The house +had fallen into a dead silence; a whole minute passed away, and nothing +stirred but the bats overhead. I knocked again, and hearkened again. +By this time my ears had grown so accustomed to the quiet, that I +could hear the ticking of the clock inside as it slowly counted out the +seconds; but whoever was in that house kept deadly still, and must have +held his breath. + +I was in two minds whether to run away; but anger got the upper hand, +and I began instead to rain kicks and buffets on the door, and to shout +out aloud for Mr. Balfour. I was in full career, when I heard the cough +right overhead, and jumping back and looking up, beheld a man’s head +in a tall nightcap, and the bell mouth of a blunderbuss, at one of the +first-storey windows. + +“It’s loaded,” said a voice. + +“I have come here with a letter,” I said, “to Mr. Ebenezer Balfour of +Shaws. Is he here?” + +“From whom is it?” asked the man with the blunderbuss. + +“That is neither here nor there,” said I, for I was growing very wroth. + +“Well,” was the reply, “ye can put it down upon the doorstep, and be off +with ye.” + +“I will do no such thing,” I cried. “I will deliver it into Mr. +Balfour’s hands, as it was meant I should. It is a letter of +introduction.” + +“A what?” cried the voice, sharply. + +I repeated what I had said. + +“Who are ye, yourself?” was the next question, after a considerable +pause. + +“I am not ashamed of my name,” said I. “They call me David Balfour.” + +At that, I made sure the man started, for I heard the blunderbuss rattle +on the window-sill; and it was after quite a long pause, and with a +curious change of voice, that the next question followed: + +“Is your father dead?” + +I was so much surprised at this, that I could find no voice to answer, +but stood staring. + +“Ay,” the man resumed, “he’ll be dead, no doubt; and that’ll be what +brings ye chapping to my door.” Another pause, and then defiantly, +“Well, man,” he said, “I’ll let ye in;” and he disappeared from the +window. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE + + +Presently there came a great rattling of chains and bolts, and the +door was cautiously opened and shut to again behind me as soon as I had +passed. + +“Go into the kitchen and touch naething,” said the voice; and while the +person of the house set himself to replacing the defences of the door, I +groped my way forward and entered the kitchen. + +The fire had burned up fairly bright, and showed me the barest room I +think I ever put my eyes on. Half-a-dozen dishes stood upon the shelves; +the table was laid for supper with a bowl of porridge, a horn spoon, and +a cup of small beer. Besides what I have named, there was not another +thing in that great, stone-vaulted, empty chamber but lockfast chests +arranged along the wall and a corner cupboard with a padlock. + +As soon as the last chain was up, the man rejoined me. He was a mean, +stooping, narrow-shouldered, clay-faced creature; and his age might have +been anything between fifty and seventy. His nightcap was of flannel, +and so was the nightgown that he wore, instead of coat and waistcoat, +over his ragged shirt. He was long unshaved; but what most distressed +and even daunted me, he would neither take his eyes away from me nor +look me fairly in the face. What he was, whether by trade or birth, was +more than I could fathom; but he seemed most like an old, unprofitable +serving-man, who should have been left in charge of that big house upon +board wages. + +“Are ye sharp-set?” he asked, glancing at about the level of my knee. +“Ye can eat that drop parritch?” + +I said I feared it was his own supper. + +“O,” said he, “I can do fine wanting it. I’ll take the ale, though, for +it slockens[1] my cough.” He drank the cup about half out, still +keeping an eye upon me as he drank; and then suddenly held out his +hand. “Let’s see the letter,” said he. + + [1] moistens + +I told him the letter was for Mr. Balfour; not for him. + +“And who do ye think I am?” says he. “Give me Alexander’s letter.” + +“You know my father’s name?” + +“It would be strange if I didnae,” he returned, “for he was my born +brother; and little as ye seem to like either me or my house, or my good +parritch, I’m your born uncle, Davie, my man, and you my born nephew. So +give us the letter, and sit down and fill your kyte.” + +If I had been some years younger, what with shame, weariness, and +disappointment, I believe I had burst into tears. As it was, I could +find no words, neither black nor white, but handed him the letter, and +sat down to the porridge with as little appetite for meat as ever a +young man had. + +Meanwhile, my uncle, stooping over the fire, turned the letter over and +over in his hands. + +“Do ye ken what’s in it?” he asked, suddenly. + +“You see for yourself, sir,” said I, “that the seal has not been +broken.” + +“Ay,” said he, “but what brought you here?” + +“To give the letter,” said I. + +“No,” says he, cunningly, “but ye’ll have had some hopes, nae doubt?” + +“I confess, sir,” said I, “when I was told that I had kinsfolk +well-to-do, I did indeed indulge the hope that they might help me in +my life. But I am no beggar; I look for no favours at your hands, and +I want none that are not freely given. For as poor as I appear, I have +friends of my own that will be blithe to help me.” + +“Hoot-toot!” said Uncle Ebenezer, “dinnae fly up in the snuff at me. +We’ll agree fine yet. And, Davie, my man, if you’re done with that bit +parritch, I could just take a sup of it myself. Ay,” he continued, +as soon as he had ousted me from the stool and spoon, “they’re fine, +halesome food--they’re grand food, parritch.” He murmured a little grace +to himself and fell to. “Your father was very fond of his meat, I mind; +he was a hearty, if not a great eater; but as for me, I could never +do mair than pyke at food.” He took a pull at the small beer, which +probably reminded him of hospitable duties, for his next speech ran +thus: “If ye’re dry ye’ll find water behind the door.” + +To this I returned no answer, standing stiffly on my two feet, and +looking down upon my uncle with a mighty angry heart. He, on his part, +continued to eat like a man under some pressure of time, and to throw +out little darting glances now at my shoes and now at my home-spun +stockings. Once only, when he had ventured to look a little higher, our +eyes met; and no thief taken with a hand in a man’s pocket could have +shown more lively signals of distress. This set me in a muse, whether +his timidity arose from too long a disuse of any human company; and +whether perhaps, upon a little trial, it might pass off, and my uncle +change into an altogether different man. From this I was awakened by his +sharp voice. + +“Your father’s been long dead?” he asked. + +“Three weeks, sir,” said I. + +“He was a secret man, Alexander--a secret, silent man,” he continued. +“He never said muckle when he was young. He’ll never have spoken muckle +of me?” + +“I never knew, sir, till you told it me yourself, that he had any +brother.” + +“Dear me, dear me!” said Ebenezer. “Nor yet of Shaws, I dare say?” + +“Not so much as the name, sir,” said I. + +“To think o’ that!” said he. “A strange nature of a man!” For all that, +he seemed singularly satisfied, but whether with himself, or me, or +with this conduct of my father’s, was more than I could read. Certainly, +however, he seemed to be outgrowing that distaste, or ill-will, that he +had conceived at first against my person; for presently he jumped up, +came across the room behind me, and hit me a smack upon the shoulder. +“We’ll agree fine yet!” he cried. “I’m just as glad I let you in. And +now come awa’ to your bed.” + +To my surprise, he lit no lamp or candle, but set forth into the dark +passage, groped his way, breathing deeply, up a flight of steps, and +paused before a door, which he unlocked. I was close upon his heels, +having stumbled after him as best I might; and then he bade me go in, +for that was my chamber. I did as he bid, but paused after a few steps, +and begged a light to go to bed with. + +“Hoot-toot!” said Uncle Ebenezer, “there’s a fine moon.” + +“Neither moon nor star, sir, and pit-mirk,”[2] said I. “I cannae see +the bed.” + + [2] Dark as the pit. + +“Hoot-toot, hoot-toot!” said he. “Lights in a house is a thing I dinnae +agree with. I’m unco feared of fires. Good-night to ye, Davie, my man.” + And before I had time to add a further protest, he pulled the door to, +and I heard him lock me in from the outside. + +I did not know whether to laugh or cry. The room was as cold as a well, +and the bed, when I had found my way to it, as damp as a peat-hag; but +by good fortune I had caught up my bundle and my plaid, and rolling +myself in the latter, I lay down upon the floor under lee of the big +bedstead, and fell speedily asleep. + +With the first peep of day I opened my eyes, to find myself in a great +chamber, hung with stamped leather, furnished with fine embroidered +furniture, and lit by three fair windows. Ten years ago, or perhaps +twenty, it must have been as pleasant a room to lie down or to awake in +as a man could wish; but damp, dirt, disuse, and the mice and spiders +had done their worst since then. Many of the window-panes, besides, were +broken; and indeed this was so common a feature in that house, that I +believe my uncle must at some time have stood a siege from his indignant +neighbours--perhaps with Jennet Clouston at their head. + +Meanwhile the sun was shining outside; and being very cold in that +miserable room, I knocked and shouted till my gaoler came and let me +out. He carried me to the back of the house, where was a draw-well, and +told me to “wash my face there, if I wanted;” and when that was done, +I made the best of my own way back to the kitchen, where he had lit the +fire and was making the porridge. The table was laid with two bowls and +two horn spoons, but the same single measure of small beer. Perhaps my +eye rested on this particular with some surprise, and perhaps my uncle +observed it; for he spoke up as if in answer to my thought, asking me if +I would like to drink ale--for so he called it. + +I told him such was my habit, but not to put himself about. + +“Na, na,” said he; “I’ll deny you nothing in reason.” + +He fetched another cup from the shelf; and then, to my great surprise, +instead of drawing more beer, he poured an accurate half from one cup +to the other. There was a kind of nobleness in this that took my breath +away; if my uncle was certainly a miser, he was one of that thorough +breed that goes near to make the vice respectable. + +When we had made an end of our meal, my uncle Ebenezer unlocked a +drawer, and drew out of it a clay pipe and a lump of tobacco, from which +he cut one fill before he locked it up again. Then he sat down in the +sun at one of the windows and silently smoked. From time to time his +eyes came coasting round to me, and he shot out one of his questions. +Once it was, “And your mother?” and when I had told him that she, too, +was dead, “Ay, she was a bonnie lassie!” Then, after another long pause, +“Whae were these friends o’ yours?” + +I told him they were different gentlemen of the name of Campbell; +though, indeed, there was only one, and that the minister, that had ever +taken the least note of me; but I began to think my uncle made too light +of my position, and finding myself all alone with him, I did not wish +him to suppose me helpless. + +He seemed to turn this over in his mind; and then, “Davie, my man,” said +he, “ye’ve come to the right bit when ye came to your uncle Ebenezer. +I’ve a great notion of the family, and I mean to do the right by you; +but while I’m taking a bit think to mysel’ of what’s the best thing to +put you to--whether the law, or the meenistry, or maybe the army, whilk +is what boys are fondest of--I wouldnae like the Balfours to be humbled +before a wheen Hieland Campbells, and I’ll ask you to keep your tongue +within your teeth. Nae letters; nae messages; no kind of word to +onybody; or else--there’s my door.” + +“Uncle Ebenezer,” said I, “I’ve no manner of reason to suppose you mean +anything but well by me. For all that, I would have you to know that I +have a pride of my own. It was by no will of mine that I came seeking +you; and if you show me your door again, I’ll take you at the word.” + +He seemed grievously put out. “Hoots-toots,” said he, “ca’ cannie, +man--ca’ cannie! Bide a day or two. I’m nae warlock, to find a fortune +for you in the bottom of a parritch bowl; but just you give me a day or +two, and say naething to naebody, and as sure as sure, I’ll do the right +by you.” + +“Very well,” said I, “enough said. If you want to help me, there’s no +doubt but I’ll be glad of it, and none but I’ll be grateful.” + +It seemed to me (too soon, I dare say) that I was getting the upper +hand of my uncle; and I began next to say that I must have the bed and +bedclothes aired and put to sun-dry; for nothing would make me sleep in +such a pickle. + +“Is this my house or yours?” said he, in his keen voice, and then all of +a sudden broke off. “Na, na,” said he, “I didnae mean that. What’s mine +is yours, Davie, my man, and what’s yours is mine. Blood’s thicker than +water; and there’s naebody but you and me that ought the name.” And +then on he rambled about the family, and its ancient greatness, and his +father that began to enlarge the house, and himself that stopped the +building as a sinful waste; and this put it in my head to give him +Jennet Clouston’s message. + +“The limmer!” he cried. “Twelve hunner and fifteen--that’s every day +since I had the limmer rowpit![3] Dod, David, I’ll have her roasted on red +peats before I’m by with it! A witch--a proclaimed witch! I’ll aff and +see the session clerk.” + + [3] Sold up. + +And with that he opened a chest, and got out a very old and +well-preserved blue coat and waistcoat, and a good enough beaver hat, +both without lace. These he threw on any way, and taking a staff from +the cupboard, locked all up again, and was for setting out, when a +thought arrested him. + +“I cannae leave you by yoursel’ in the house,” said he. “I’ll have to +lock you out.” + +The blood came to my face. “If you lock me out,” I said, “it’ll be the +last you’ll see of me in friendship.” + +He turned very pale, and sucked his mouth in. + +“This is no the way,” he said, looking wickedly at a corner of the +floor--“this is no the way to win my favour, David.” + +“Sir,” says I, “with a proper reverence for your age and our common +blood, I do not value your favour at a boddle’s purchase. I was brought +up to have a good conceit of myself; and if you were all the uncle, and +all the family, I had in the world ten times over, I wouldn’t buy your +liking at such prices.” + +Uncle Ebenezer went and looked out of the window for awhile. I could +see him all trembling and twitching, like a man with palsy. But when he +turned round, he had a smile upon his face. + +“Well, well,” said he, “we must bear and forbear. I’ll no go; that’s all +that’s to be said of it.” + +“Uncle Ebenezer,” I said, “I can make nothing out of this. You use me +like a thief; you hate to have me in this house; you let me see it, +every word and every minute: it’s not possible that you can like me; and +as for me, I’ve spoken to you as I never thought to speak to any man. +Why do you seek to keep me, then? Let me gang back--let me gang back to +the friends I have, and that like me!” + +“Na, na; na, na,” he said, very earnestly. “I like you fine; we’ll agree +fine yet; and for the honour of the house I couldnae let you leave the +way ye came. Bide here quiet, there’s a good lad; just you bide here +quiet a bittie, and ye’ll find that we agree.” + +“Well, sir,” said I, after I had thought the matter out in silence, +“I’ll stay awhile. It’s more just I should be helped by my own blood +than strangers; and if we don’t agree, I’ll do my best it shall be +through no fault of mine.” + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + + +For a day that was begun so ill, the day passed fairly well. We had the +porridge cold again at noon, and hot porridge at night; porridge and +small beer was my uncle’s diet. He spoke but little, and that in the +same way as before, shooting a question at me after a long silence; and +when I sought to lead him to talk about my future, slipped out of it +again. In a room next door to the kitchen, where he suffered me to go, +I found a great number of books, both Latin and English, in which I took +great pleasure all the afternoon. Indeed, the time passed so lightly in +this good company, that I began to be almost reconciled to my residence +at Shaws; and nothing but the sight of my uncle, and his eyes playing +hide and seek with mine, revived the force of my distrust. + +One thing I discovered, which put me in some doubt. This was an entry on +the fly-leaf of a chap-book (one of Patrick Walker’s) plainly written +by my father’s hand and thus conceived: “To my brother Ebenezer on his +fifth birthday.” Now, what puzzled me was this: That, as my father was of +course the younger brother, he must either have made some strange error, +or he must have written, before he was yet five, an excellent, clear +manly hand of writing. + +I tried to get this out of my head; but though I took down many +interesting authors, old and new, history, poetry, and story-book, this +notion of my father’s hand of writing stuck to me; and when at length I +went back into the kitchen, and sat down once more to porridge and small +beer, the first thing I said to Uncle Ebenezer was to ask him if my +father had not been very quick at his book. + +“Alexander? No him!” was the reply. “I was far quicker mysel’; I was a +clever chappie when I was young. Why, I could read as soon as he could.” + +This puzzled me yet more; and a thought coming into my head, I asked if +he and my father had been twins. + +He jumped upon his stool, and the horn spoon fell out of his hand upon +the floor. “What gars ye ask that?” he said, and he caught me by the +breast of the jacket, and looked this time straight into my eyes: +his own were little and light, and bright like a bird’s, blinking and +winking strangely. + +“What do you mean?” I asked, very calmly, for I was far stronger than +he, and not easily frightened. “Take your hand from my jacket. This is +no way to behave.” + +My uncle seemed to make a great effort upon himself. “Dod man, David,” + he said, “ye should-nae speak to me about your father. That’s where the +mistake is.” He sat awhile and shook, blinking in his plate: “He was all +the brother that ever I had,” he added, but with no heart in his voice; +and then he caught up his spoon and fell to supper again, but still +shaking. + +Now this last passage, this laying of hands upon my person and +sudden profession of love for my dead father, went so clean beyond my +comprehension that it put me into both fear and hope. On the one hand, +I began to think my uncle was perhaps insane and might be dangerous; +on the other, there came up into my mind (quite unbidden by me and even +discouraged) a story like some ballad I had heard folk singing, of a +poor lad that was a rightful heir and a wicked kinsman that tried +to keep him from his own. For why should my uncle play a part with a +relative that came, almost a beggar, to his door, unless in his heart he +had some cause to fear him? + +With this notion, all unacknowledged, but nevertheless getting firmly +settled in my head, I now began to imitate his covert looks; so that +we sat at table like a cat and a mouse, each stealthily observing the +other. Not another word had he to say to me, black or white, but was +busy turning something secretly over in his mind; and the longer we +sat and the more I looked at him, the more certain I became that the +something was unfriendly to myself. + +When he had cleared the platter, he got out a single pipeful of tobacco, +just as in the morning, turned round a stool into the chimney corner, +and sat awhile smoking, with his back to me. + +“Davie,” he said, at length, “I’ve been thinking;” then he paused, and +said it again. “There’s a wee bit siller that I half promised ye before +ye were born,” he continued; “promised it to your father. O, naething +legal, ye understand; just gentlemen daffing at their wine. Well, I +keepit that bit money separate--it was a great expense, but a promise +is a promise--and it has grown by now to be a matter of just +precisely--just exactly”--and here he paused and stumbled--“of just +exactly forty pounds!” This last he rapped out with a sidelong glance +over his shoulder; and the next moment added, almost with a scream, +“Scots!” + +The pound Scots being the same thing as an English shilling, the +difference made by this second thought was considerable; I could see, +besides, that the whole story was a lie, invented with some end which +it puzzled me to guess; and I made no attempt to conceal the tone of +raillery in which I answered-- + +“O, think again, sir! Pounds sterling, I believe!” + +“That’s what I said,” returned my uncle: “pounds sterling! And if you’ll +step out-by to the door a minute, just to see what kind of a night it +is, I’ll get it out to ye and call ye in again.” + +I did his will, smiling to myself in my contempt that he should think I +was so easily to be deceived. It was a dark night, with a few stars low +down; and as I stood just outside the door, I heard a hollow moaning +of wind far off among the hills. I said to myself there was something +thundery and changeful in the weather, and little knew of what a vast +importance that should prove to me before the evening passed. + +When I was called in again, my uncle counted out into my hand seven and +thirty golden guinea pieces; the rest was in his hand, in small gold and +silver; but his heart failed him there, and he crammed the change into +his pocket. + +“There,” said he, “that’ll show you! I’m a queer man, and strange wi’ +strangers; but my word is my bond, and there’s the proof of it.” + +Now, my uncle seemed so miserly that I was struck dumb by this sudden +generosity, and could find no words in which to thank him. + +“No a word!” said he. “Nae thanks; I want nae thanks. I do my duty. I’m +no saying that everybody would have done it; but for my part (though +I’m a careful body, too) it’s a pleasure to me to do the right by my +brother’s son; and it’s a pleasure to me to think that now we’ll agree +as such near friends should.” + +I spoke him in return as handsomely as I was able; but all the while +I was wondering what would come next, and why he had parted with his +precious guineas; for as to the reason he had given, a baby would have +refused it. + +Presently he looked towards me sideways. + +“And see here,” says he, “tit for tat.” + +I told him I was ready to prove my gratitude in any reasonable degree, +and then waited, looking for some monstrous demand. And yet, when +at last he plucked up courage to speak, it was only to tell me (very +properly, as I thought) that he was growing old and a little broken, and +that he would expect me to help him with the house and the bit garden. + +I answered, and expressed my readiness to serve. + +“Well,” he said, “let’s begin.” He pulled out of his pocket a rusty key. +“There,” says he, “there’s the key of the stair-tower at the far end of +the house. Ye can only win into it from the outside, for that part of +the house is no finished. Gang ye in there, and up the stairs, and bring +me down the chest that’s at the top. There’s papers in’t,” he added. + +“Can I have a light, sir?” said I. + +“Na,” said he, very cunningly. “Nae lights in my house.” + +“Very well, sir,” said I. “Are the stairs good?” + +“They’re grand,” said he; and then, as I was going, “Keep to the wall,” + he added; “there’s nae bannisters. But the stairs are grand underfoot.” + +Out I went into the night. The wind was still moaning in the distance, +though never a breath of it came near the house of Shaws. It had fallen +blacker than ever; and I was glad to feel along the wall, till I came +the length of the stairtower door at the far end of the unfinished wing. +I had got the key into the keyhole and had just turned it, when all upon +a sudden, without sound of wind or thunder, the whole sky lighted up +with wild fire and went black again. I had to put my hand over my eyes +to get back to the colour of the darkness; and indeed I was already half +blinded when I stepped into the tower. + +It was so dark inside, it seemed a body could scarce breathe; but I +pushed out with foot and hand, and presently struck the wall with the +one, and the lowermost round of the stair with the other. The wall, by +the touch, was of fine hewn stone; the steps too, though somewhat steep +and narrow, were of polished masonwork, and regular and solid underfoot. +Minding my uncle’s word about the bannisters, I kept close to the tower +side, and felt my way in the pitch darkness with a beating heart. + +The house of Shaws stood some five full storeys high, not counting +lofts. Well, as I advanced, it seemed to me the stair grew airier and a +thought more lightsome; and I was wondering what might be the cause of +this change, when a second blink of the summer lightning came and went. +If I did not cry out, it was because fear had me by the throat; and if I +did not fall, it was more by Heaven’s mercy than my own strength. It was +not only that the flash shone in on every side through breaches in the +wall, so that I seemed to be clambering aloft upon an open scaffold, but +the same passing brightness showed me the steps were of unequal length, +and that one of my feet rested that moment within two inches of the +well. + +This was the grand stair! I thought; and with the thought, a gust of +a kind of angry courage came into my heart. My uncle had sent me here, +certainly to run great risks, perhaps to die. I swore I would settle +that “perhaps,” if I should break my neck for it; got me down upon my +hands and knees; and as slowly as a snail, feeling before me every +inch, and testing the solidity of every stone, I continued to ascend +the stair. The darkness, by contrast with the flash, appeared to have +redoubled; nor was that all, for my ears were now troubled and my mind +confounded by a great stir of bats in the top part of the tower, and the +foul beasts, flying downwards, sometimes beat about my face and body. + +The tower, I should have said, was square; and in every corner the step +was made of a great stone of a different shape to join the flights. +Well, I had come close to one of these turns, when, feeling forward +as usual, my hand slipped upon an edge and found nothing but emptiness +beyond it. The stair had been carried no higher; to set a stranger +mounting it in the darkness was to send him straight to his death; and +(although, thanks to the lightning and my own precautions, I was safe +enough) the mere thought of the peril in which I might have stood, and +the dreadful height I might have fallen from, brought out the sweat upon +my body and relaxed my joints. + +But I knew what I wanted now, and turned and groped my way down again, +with a wonderful anger in my heart. About half-way down, the wind sprang +up in a clap and shook the tower, and died again; the rain followed; and +before I had reached the ground level it fell in buckets. I put out my +head into the storm, and looked along towards the kitchen. The door, +which I had shut behind me when I left, now stood open, and shed a +little glimmer of light; and I thought I could see a figure standing +in the rain, quite still, like a man hearkening. And then there came +a blinding flash, which showed me my uncle plainly, just where I had +fancied him to stand; and hard upon the heels of it, a great tow-row of +thunder. + +Now, whether my uncle thought the crash to be the sound of my fall, or +whether he heard in it God’s voice denouncing murder, I will leave you +to guess. Certain it is, at least, that he was seized on by a kind of +panic fear, and that he ran into the house and left the door open behind +him. I followed as softly as I could, and, coming unheard into the +kitchen, stood and watched him. + +He had found time to open the corner cupboard and bring out a great case +bottle of aqua vitae, and now sat with his back towards me at the table. +Ever and again he would be seized with a fit of deadly shuddering and +groan aloud, and carrying the bottle to his lips, drink down the raw +spirits by the mouthful. + +I stepped forward, came close behind him where he sat, and suddenly +clapping my two hands down upon his shoulders--“Ah!” cried I. + +My uncle gave a kind of broken cry like a sheep’s bleat, flung up his +arms, and tumbled to the floor like a dead man. I was somewhat shocked +at this; but I had myself to look to first of all, and did not hesitate +to let him lie as he had fallen. The keys were hanging in the cupboard; +and it was my design to furnish myself with arms before my uncle should +come again to his senses and the power of devising evil. In the cupboard +were a few bottles, some apparently of medicine; a great many bills and +other papers, which I should willingly enough have rummaged, had I had +the time; and a few necessaries that were nothing to my purpose. Thence +I turned to the chests. The first was full of meal; the second of +moneybags and papers tied into sheaves; in the third, with many +other things (and these for the most part clothes) I found a rusty, +ugly-looking Highland dirk without the scabbard. This, then, I concealed +inside my waistcoat, and turned to my uncle. + +He lay as he had fallen, all huddled, with one knee up and one arm +sprawling abroad; his face had a strange colour of blue, and he seemed +to have ceased breathing. Fear came on me that he was dead; then I +got water and dashed it in his face; and with that he seemed to come a +little to himself, working his mouth and fluttering his eyelids. At last +he looked up and saw me, and there came into his eyes a terror that was +not of this world. + +“Come, come,” said I; “sit up.” + +“Are ye alive?” he sobbed. “O man, are ye alive?” + +“That am I,” said I. “Small thanks to you!” + +He had begun to seek for his breath with deep sighs. “The blue phial,” + said he--“in the aumry--the blue phial.” His breath came slower still. + +I ran to the cupboard, and, sure enough, found there a blue phial +of medicine, with the dose written on it on a paper, and this I +administered to him with what speed I might. + +“It’s the trouble,” said he, reviving a little; “I have a trouble, +Davie. It’s the heart.” + +I set him on a chair and looked at him. It is true I felt some pity for +a man that looked so sick, but I was full besides of righteous anger; +and I numbered over before him the points on which I wanted explanation: +why he lied to me at every word; why he feared that I should leave him; +why he disliked it to be hinted that he and my father were twins--“Is +that because it is true?” I asked; why he had given me money to which I +was convinced I had no claim; and, last of all, why he had tried to kill +me. He heard me all through in silence; and then, in a broken voice, +begged me to let him go to bed. + +“I’ll tell ye the morn,” he said; “as sure as death I will.” + +And so weak was he that I could do nothing but consent. I locked him +into his room, however, and pocketed the key, and then returning to +the kitchen, made up such a blaze as had not shone there for many a long +year, and wrapping myself in my plaid, lay down upon the chests and fell +asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +I GO TO THE QUEEN’S FERRY + + +Much rain fell in the night; and the next morning there blew a bitter +wintry wind out of the north-west, driving scattered clouds. For all +that, and before the sun began to peep or the last of the stars had +vanished, I made my way to the side of the burn, and had a plunge in a +deep whirling pool. All aglow from my bath, I sat down once more +beside the fire, which I replenished, and began gravely to consider my +position. + +There was now no doubt about my uncle’s enmity; there was no doubt I +carried my life in my hand, and he would leave no stone unturned that +he might compass my destruction. But I was young and spirited, and +like most lads that have been country-bred, I had a great opinion of my +shrewdness. I had come to his door no better than a beggar and little +more than a child; he had met me with treachery and violence; it would +be a fine consummation to take the upper hand, and drive him like a herd +of sheep. + +I sat there nursing my knee and smiling at the fire; and I saw myself in +fancy smell out his secrets one after another, and grow to be that man’s +king and ruler. The warlock of Essendean, they say, had made a mirror in +which men could read the future; it must have been of other stuff than +burning coal; for in all the shapes and pictures that I sat and gazed +at, there was never a ship, never a seaman with a hairy cap, never a big +bludgeon for my silly head, or the least sign of all those tribulations +that were ripe to fall on me. + +Presently, all swollen with conceit, I went up-stairs and gave my +prisoner his liberty. He gave me good-morning civilly; and I gave the +same to him, smiling down upon him, from the heights of my sufficiency. +Soon we were set to breakfast, as it might have been the day before. + +“Well, sir,” said I, with a jeering tone, “have you nothing more to say +to me?” And then, as he made no articulate reply, “It will be time, +I think, to understand each other,” I continued. “You took me for +a country Johnnie Raw, with no more mother-wit or courage than a +porridge-stick. I took you for a good man, or no worse than others at +the least. It seems we were both wrong. What cause you have to fear me, +to cheat me, and to attempt my life--” + +He murmured something about a jest, and that he liked a bit of fun; and +then, seeing me smile, changed his tone, and assured me he would make +all clear as soon as we had breakfasted. I saw by his face that he had +no lie ready for me, though he was hard at work preparing one; and I +think I was about to tell him so, when we were interrupted by a knocking +at the door. + +Bidding my uncle sit where he was, I went to open it, and found on the +doorstep a half-grown boy in sea-clothes. He had no sooner seen me than +he began to dance some steps of the sea-hornpipe (which I had never +before heard of far less seen), snapping his fingers in the air and +footing it right cleverly. For all that, he was blue with the cold; and +there was something in his face, a look between tears and laughter, that +was highly pathetic and consisted ill with this gaiety of manner. + +“What cheer, mate?” says he, with a cracked voice. + +I asked him soberly to name his pleasure. + +“O, pleasure!” says he; and then began to sing: + + “For it’s my delight, of a shiny night, + In the season of the year.” + +“Well,” said I, “if you have no business at all, I will even be so +unmannerly as to shut you out.” + +“Stay, brother!” he cried. “Have you no fun about you? or do you want +to get me thrashed? I’ve brought a letter from old Heasyoasy to Mr. +Belflower.” He showed me a letter as he spoke. “And I say, mate,” he +added, “I’m mortal hungry.” + +“Well,” said I, “come into the house, and you shall have a bite if I go +empty for it.” + +With that I brought him in and set him down to my own place, where he +fell-to greedily on the remains of breakfast, winking to me between +whiles, and making many faces, which I think the poor soul considered +manly. Meanwhile, my uncle had read the letter and sat thinking; then, +suddenly, he got to his feet with a great air of liveliness, and pulled +me apart into the farthest corner of the room. + +“Read that,” said he, and put the letter in my hand. + +Here it is, lying before me as I write: + +“The Hawes Inn, at the Queen’s Ferry. + +“Sir,--I lie here with my hawser up and down, and send my cabin-boy to +informe. If you have any further commands for over-seas, to-day will be +the last occasion, as the wind will serve us well out of the firth. +I will not seek to deny that I have had crosses with your doer,[4] Mr. +Rankeillor; of which, if not speedily redd up, you may looke to see some +losses follow. I have drawn a bill upon you, as per margin, and am, sir, + your most obedt., humble servant, + + “ELIAS HOSEASON.” + +[4] Agent. + +“You see, Davie,” resumed my uncle, as soon as he saw that I had done, +“I have a venture with this man Hoseason, the captain of a trading brig, +the _Covenant_, of Dysart. Now, if you and me was to walk over with +yon lad, I could see the captain at the Hawes, or maybe on board the +_Covenant_ if there was papers to be signed; and so far from a loss of +time, we can jog on to the lawyer, Mr. Rankeillor’s. After a’ that’s +come and gone, ye would be swier[5] to believe me upon my naked word; but +ye’ll believe Rankeillor. He’s factor to half the gentry in these parts; +an auld man, forby: highly respeckit, and he kenned your father.” + + [5] Unwilling. + +I stood awhile and thought. I was going to some place of shipping, which +was doubtless populous, and where my uncle durst attempt no violence, +and, indeed, even the society of the cabin-boy so far protected me. Once +there, I believed I could force on the visit to the lawyer, even if my +uncle were now insincere in proposing it; and, perhaps, in the bottom +of my heart, I wished a nearer view of the sea and ships. You are to +remember I had lived all my life in the inland hills, and just two days +before had my first sight of the firth lying like a blue floor, and the +sailed ships moving on the face of it, no bigger than toys. One thing +with another, I made up my mind. + +“Very well,” says I, “let us go to the Ferry.” + +My uncle got into his hat and coat, and buckled an old rusty cutlass on; +and then we trod the fire out, locked the door, and set forth upon our +walk. + +The wind, being in that cold quarter the north-west, blew nearly in our +faces as we went. It was the month of June; the grass was all white with +daisies, and the trees with blossom; but, to judge by our blue nails +and aching wrists, the time might have been winter and the whiteness a +December frost. + +Uncle Ebenezer trudged in the ditch, jogging from side to side like an +old ploughman coming home from work. He never said a word the whole +way; and I was thrown for talk on the cabin-boy. He told me his name was +Ransome, and that he had followed the sea since he was nine, but could +not say how old he was, as he had lost his reckoning. He showed me +tattoo marks, baring his breast in the teeth of the wind and in spite +of my remonstrances, for I thought it was enough to kill him; he swore +horribly whenever he remembered, but more like a silly schoolboy than a +man; and boasted of many wild and bad things that he had done: stealthy +thefts, false accusations, ay, and even murder; but all with such a +dearth of likelihood in the details, and such a weak and crazy swagger +in the delivery, as disposed me rather to pity than to believe him. + +I asked him of the brig (which he declared was the finest ship that +sailed) and of Captain Hoseason, in whose praises he was equally loud. +Heasyoasy (for so he still named the skipper) was a man, by his account, +that minded for nothing either in heaven or earth; one that, as people +said, would “crack on all sail into the day of judgment;” rough, fierce, +unscrupulous, and brutal; and all this my poor cabin-boy had taught +himself to admire as something seamanlike and manly. He would only admit +one flaw in his idol. “He ain’t no seaman,” he admitted. “That’s Mr. +Shuan that navigates the brig; he’s the finest seaman in the trade, only +for drink; and I tell you I believe it! Why, look’ere;” and turning down +his stocking he showed me a great, raw, red wound that made my blood run +cold. “He done that--Mr. Shuan done it,” he said, with an air of pride. + +“What!” I cried, “do you take such savage usage at his hands? Why, you +are no slave, to be so handled!” + +“No,” said the poor moon-calf, changing his tune at once, “and so he’ll +find. See’ere;” and he showed me a great case-knife, which he told me +was stolen. “O,” says he, “let me see him try; I dare him to; I’ll do +for him! O, he ain’t the first!” And he confirmed it with a poor, silly, +ugly oath. + +I have never felt such pity for any one in this wide world as I felt for +that half-witted creature, and it began to come over me that the brig +_Covenant_ (for all her pious name) was little better than a hell upon +the seas. + +“Have you no friends?” said I. + +He said he had a father in some English seaport, I forget which. + +“He was a fine man, too,” he said, “but he’s dead.” + +“In Heaven’s name,” cried I, “can you find no reputable life on shore?” + +“O, no,” says he, winking and looking very sly, “they would put me to a +trade. I know a trick worth two of that, I do!” + +I asked him what trade could be so dreadful as the one he followed, +where he ran the continual peril of his life, not alone from wind and +sea, but by the horrid cruelty of those who were his masters. He said +it was very true; and then began to praise the life, and tell what a +pleasure it was to get on shore with money in his pocket, and spend it +like a man, and buy apples, and swagger, and surprise what he called +stick-in-the-mud boys. “And then it’s not all as bad as that,” says he; +“there’s worse off than me: there’s the twenty-pounders. O, laws! +you should see them taking on. Why, I’ve seen a man as old as you, I +dessay”--(to him I seemed old)--“ah, and he had a beard, too--well, and +as soon as we cleared out of the river, and he had the drug out of his +head--my! how he cried and carried on! I made a fine fool of him, I tell +you! And then there’s little uns, too: oh, little by me! I tell you, I +keep them in order. When we carry little uns, I have a rope’s end of +my own to wollop’em.” And so he ran on, until it came in on me what +he meant by twenty-pounders were those unhappy criminals who were +sent over-seas to slavery in North America, or the still more unhappy +innocents who were kidnapped or trepanned (as the word went) for private +interest or vengeance. + +Just then we came to the top of the hill, and looked down on the Ferry +and the Hope. The Firth of Forth (as is very well known) narrows at this +point to the width of a good-sized river, which makes a convenient ferry +going north, and turns the upper reach into a landlocked haven for all +manner of ships. Right in the midst of the narrows lies an islet with +some ruins; on the south shore they have built a pier for the service +of the Ferry; and at the end of the pier, on the other side of the road, +and backed against a pretty garden of holly-trees and hawthorns, I could +see the building which they called the Hawes Inn. + +The town of Queensferry lies farther west, and the neighbourhood of the +inn looked pretty lonely at that time of day, for the boat had just +gone north with passengers. A skiff, however, lay beside the pier, with +some seamen sleeping on the thwarts; this, as Ransome told me, was the +brig’s boat waiting for the captain; and about half a mile off, and all +alone in the anchorage, he showed me the _Covenant_ herself. There was +a sea-going bustle on board; yards were swinging into place; and as the +wind blew from that quarter, I could hear the song of the sailors as +they pulled upon the ropes. After all I had listened to upon the way, I +looked at that ship with an extreme abhorrence; and from the bottom of +my heart I pitied all poor souls that were condemned to sail in her. + +We had all three pulled up on the brow of the hill; and now I marched +across the road and addressed my uncle. “I think it right to tell +you, sir,” says I, “there’s nothing that will bring me on board that +_Covenant_.” + +He seemed to waken from a dream. “Eh?” he said. “What’s that?” + +I told him over again. + +“Well, well,” he said, “we’ll have to please ye, I suppose. But what +are we standing here for? It’s perishing cold; and if I’m no mistaken, +they’re busking the _Covenant_ for sea.” + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN’S FERRY + + +As soon as we came to the inn, Ransome led us up the stair to a small +room, with a bed in it, and heated like an oven by a great fire of coal. +At a table hard by the chimney, a tall, dark, sober-looking man sat +writing. In spite of the heat of the room, he wore a thick sea-jacket, +buttoned to the neck, and a tall hairy cap drawn down over his ears; yet +I never saw any man, not even a judge upon the bench, look cooler, or +more studious and self-possessed, than this ship-captain. + +He got to his feet at once, and coming forward, offered his large hand +to Ebenezer. “I am proud to see you, Mr. Balfour,” said he, in a fine +deep voice, “and glad that ye are here in time. The wind’s fair, and the +tide upon the turn; we’ll see the old coal-bucket burning on the Isle of +May before to-night.” + +“Captain Hoseason,” returned my uncle, “you keep your room unco hot.” + +“It’s a habit I have, Mr. Balfour,” said the skipper. “I’m a cold-rife +man by my nature; I have a cold blood, sir. There’s neither fur, +nor flannel--no, sir, nor hot rum, will warm up what they call +the temperature. Sir, it’s the same with most men that have been +carbonadoed, as they call it, in the tropic seas.” + +“Well, well, captain,” replied my uncle, “we must all be the way we’re +made.” + +But it chanced that this fancy of the captain’s had a great share in my +misfortunes. For though I had promised myself not to let my kinsman out +of sight, I was both so impatient for a nearer look of the sea, and +so sickened by the closeness of the room, that when he told me to “run +down-stairs and play myself awhile,” I was fool enough to take him at +his word. + +Away I went, therefore, leaving the two men sitting down to a bottle +and a great mass of papers; and crossing the road in front of the inn, +walked down upon the beach. With the wind in that quarter, only little +wavelets, not much bigger than I had seen upon a lake, beat upon the +shore. But the weeds were new to me--some green, some brown and long, +and some with little bladders that crackled between my fingers. Even so +far up the firth, the smell of the sea-water was exceedingly salt and +stirring; the _Covenant_, besides, was beginning to shake out her +sails, which hung upon the yards in clusters; and the spirit of all +that I beheld put me in thoughts of far voyages and foreign places. + +I looked, too, at the seamen with the skiff--big brown fellows, some in +shirts, some with jackets, some with coloured handkerchiefs about their +throats, one with a brace of pistols stuck into his pockets, two or +three with knotty bludgeons, and all with their case-knives. I passed +the time of day with one that looked less desperate than his fellows, +and asked him of the sailing of the brig. He said they would get under +way as soon as the ebb set, and expressed his gladness to be out of +a port where there were no taverns and fiddlers; but all with such +horrifying oaths, that I made haste to get away from him. + +This threw me back on Ransome, who seemed the least wicked of that gang, +and who soon came out of the inn and ran to me, crying for a bowl of +punch. I told him I would give him no such thing, for neither he nor I +was of an age for such indulgences. “But a glass of ale you may have, +and welcome,” said I. He mopped and mowed at me, and called me names; +but he was glad to get the ale, for all that; and presently we were +set down at a table in the front room of the inn, and both eating and +drinking with a good appetite. + +Here it occurred to me that, as the landlord was a man of that county, +I might do well to make a friend of him. I offered him a share, as was +much the custom in those days; but he was far too great a man to sit +with such poor customers as Ransome and myself, and he was leaving the +room, when I called him back to ask if he knew Mr. Rankeillor. + +“Hoot, ay,” says he, “and a very honest man. And, O, by-the-by,” says +he, “was it you that came in with Ebenezer?” And when I had told him +yes, “Ye’ll be no friend of his?” he asked, meaning, in the Scottish +way, that I would be no relative. + +I told him no, none. + +“I thought not,” said he, “and yet ye have a kind of gliff[6] of Mr. +Alexander.” + + [6] Look. + +I said it seemed that Ebenezer was ill-seen in the country. + +“Nae doubt,” said the landlord. “He’s a wicked auld man, and there’s +many would like to see him girning in the tow.[7] Jennet Clouston and mony +mair that he has harried out of house and hame. And yet he was ance +a fine young fellow, too. But that was before the sough[8] gaed abroad +about Mr. Alexander, that was like the death of him.” + + [7] Rope. + + [8] Report. + +“And what was it?” I asked. + +“Ou, just that he had killed him,” said the landlord. “Did ye never hear +that?” + +“And what would he kill him for?” said I. + +“And what for, but just to get the place,” said he. + +“The place?” said I. “The Shaws?” + +“Nae other place that I ken,” said he. + +“Ay, man?” said I. “Is that so? Was my--was Alexander the eldest son?” + +“‘Deed was he,” said the landlord. “What else would he have killed him +for?” + +And with that he went away, as he had been impatient to do from the +beginning. + +Of course, I had guessed it a long while ago; but it is one thing to +guess, another to know; and I sat stunned with my good fortune, and +could scarce grow to believe that the same poor lad who had trudged in +the dust from Ettrick Forest not two days ago, was now one of the rich +of the earth, and had a house and broad lands, and might mount his horse +tomorrow. All these pleasant things, and a thousand others, crowded into +my mind, as I sat staring before me out of the inn window, and paying +no heed to what I saw; only I remember that my eye lighted on Captain +Hoseason down on the pier among his seamen, and speaking with some +authority. And presently he came marching back towards the house, with +no mark of a sailor’s clumsiness, but carrying his fine, tall figure +with a manly bearing, and still with the same sober, grave expression on +his face. I wondered if it was possible that Ransome’s stories could +be true, and half disbelieved them; they fitted so ill with the man’s +looks. But indeed, he was neither so good as I supposed him, nor quite +so bad as Ransome did; for, in fact, he was two men, and left the better +one behind as soon as he set foot on board his vessel. + +The next thing, I heard my uncle calling me, and found the pair in the +road together. It was the captain who addressed me, and that with an air +(very flattering to a young lad) of grave equality. + +“Sir,” said he, “Mr. Balfour tells me great things of you; and for my +own part, I like your looks. I wish I was for longer here, that we might +make the better friends; but we’ll make the most of what we have. Ye +shall come on board my brig for half an hour, till the ebb sets, and +drink a bowl with me.” + +Now, I longed to see the inside of a ship more than words can tell; but +I was not going to put myself in jeopardy, and I told him my uncle and I +had an appointment with a lawyer. + +“Ay, ay,” said he, “he passed me word of that. But, ye see, the boat’ll +set ye ashore at the town pier, and that’s but a penny stonecast from +Rankeillor’s house.” And here he suddenly leaned down and whispered in +my ear: “Take care of the old tod;[9] he means mischief. Come aboard till +I can get a word with ye.” And then, passing his arm through mine, he +continued aloud, as he set off towards his boat: “But, come, what can I +bring ye from the Carolinas? Any friend of Mr. Balfour’s can command. +A roll of tobacco? Indian feather-work? a skin of a wild beast? a stone +pipe? the mocking-bird that mews for all the world like a cat? the +cardinal bird that is as red as blood?--take your pick and say your +pleasure.” + + [9] Fox. + +By this time we were at the boat-side, and he was handing me in. I did +not dream of hanging back; I thought (the poor fool!) that I had found +a good friend and helper, and I was rejoiced to see the ship. As soon as +we were all set in our places, the boat was thrust off from the pier +and began to move over the waters: and what with my pleasure in this new +movement and my surprise at our low position, and the appearance of the +shores, and the growing bigness of the brig as we drew near to it, I +could hardly understand what the captain said, and must have answered +him at random. + +As soon as we were alongside (where I sat fairly gaping at the ship’s +height, the strong humming of the tide against its sides, and the +pleasant cries of the seamen at their work) Hoseason, declaring that he +and I must be the first aboard, ordered a tackle to be sent down from +the main-yard. In this I was whipped into the air and set down again on +the deck, where the captain stood ready waiting for me, and instantly +slipped back his arm under mine. There I stood some while, a little +dizzy with the unsteadiness of all around me, perhaps a little afraid, +and yet vastly pleased with these strange sights; the captain meanwhile +pointing out the strangest, and telling me their names and uses. + +“But where is my uncle?” said I suddenly. + +“Ay,” said Hoseason, with a sudden grimness, “that’s the point.” + +I felt I was lost. With all my strength, I plucked myself clear of him +and ran to the bulwarks. Sure enough, there was the boat pulling for the +town, with my uncle sitting in the stern. I gave a piercing cry--“Help, +help! Murder!”--so that both sides of the anchorage rang with it, and +my uncle turned round where he was sitting, and showed me a face full of +cruelty and terror. + +It was the last I saw. Already strong hands had been plucking me back +from the ship’s side; and now a thunderbolt seemed to strike me; I saw a +great flash of fire, and fell senseless. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG _COVENANT_ OF DYSART + + +I came to myself in darkness, in great pain, bound hand and foot, and +deafened by many unfamiliar noises. There sounded in my ears a roaring +of water as of a huge mill-dam, the thrashing of heavy sprays, the +thundering of the sails, and the shrill cries of seamen. The whole world +now heaved giddily up, and now rushed giddily downward; and so sick and +hurt was I in body, and my mind so much confounded, that it took me a +long while, chasing my thoughts up and down, and ever stunned again by +a fresh stab of pain, to realise that I must be lying somewhere bound in +the belly of that unlucky ship, and that the wind must have strengthened +to a gale. With the clear perception of my plight, there fell upon me a +blackness of despair, a horror of remorse at my own folly, and a passion +of anger at my uncle, that once more bereft me of my senses. + +When I returned again to life, the same uproar, the same confused and +violent movements, shook and deafened me; and presently, to my other +pains and distresses, there was added the sickness of an unused landsman +on the sea. In that time of my adventurous youth, I suffered many +hardships; but none that was so crushing to my mind and body, or lit by +so few hopes, as these first hours aboard the brig. + +I heard a gun fire, and supposed the storm had proved too strong for us, +and we were firing signals of distress. The thought of deliverance, even +by death in the deep sea, was welcome to me. Yet it was no such matter; +but (as I was afterwards told) a common habit of the captain’s, which +I here set down to show that even the worst man may have his kindlier +side. We were then passing, it appeared, within some miles of Dysart, +where the brig was built, and where old Mrs. Hoseason, the captain’s +mother, had come some years before to live; and whether outward or +inward bound, the _Covenant_ was never suffered to go by that place by +day, without a gun fired and colours shown. + +I had no measure of time; day and night were alike in that ill-smelling +cavern of the ship’s bowels where I lay; and the misery of my situation +drew out the hours to double. How long, therefore, I lay waiting to hear +the ship split upon some rock, or to feel her reel head foremost into +the depths of the sea, I have not the means of computation. But sleep at +length stole from me the consciousness of sorrow. + +I was awakened by the light of a hand-lantern shining in my face. A +small man of about thirty, with green eyes and a tangle of fair hair, +stood looking down at me. + +“Well,” said he, “how goes it?” + +I answered by a sob; and my visitor then felt my pulse and temples, and +set himself to wash and dress the wound upon my scalp. + +“Ay,” said he, “a sore dunt.[10] What, man? Cheer up! The world’s no done; +you’ve made a bad start of it but you’ll make a better. Have you had any +meat?” + + [10] Stroke. + +I said I could not look at it: and thereupon he gave me some brandy and +water in a tin pannikin, and left me once more to myself. + +The next time he came to see me, I was lying betwixt sleep and waking, +my eyes wide open in the darkness, the sickness quite departed, but +succeeded by a horrid giddiness and swimming that was almost worse +to bear. I ached, besides, in every limb, and the cords that bound me +seemed to be of fire. The smell of the hole in which I lay seemed to +have become a part of me; and during the long interval since his last +visit I had suffered tortures of fear, now from the scurrying of the +ship’s rats, that sometimes pattered on my very face, and now from the +dismal imaginings that haunt the bed of fever. + +The glimmer of the lantern, as a trap opened, shone in like the heaven’s +sunlight; and though it only showed me the strong, dark beams of the +ship that was my prison, I could have cried aloud for gladness. The man +with the green eyes was the first to descend the ladder, and I noticed +that he came somewhat unsteadily. He was followed by the captain. +Neither said a word; but the first set to and examined me, and dressed +my wound as before, while Hoseason looked me in my face with an odd, +black look. + +“Now, sir, you see for yourself,” said the first: “a high fever, no +appetite, no light, no meat: you see for yourself what that means.” + +“I am no conjurer, Mr. Riach,” said the captain. + +“Give me leave, sir,” said Riach; “you’ve a good head upon your +shoulders, and a good Scotch tongue to ask with; but I will leave you no +manner of excuse; I want that boy taken out of this hole and put in the +forecastle.” + +“What ye may want, sir, is a matter of concern to nobody but yoursel’,” + returned the captain; “but I can tell ye that which is to be. Here he +is; here he shall bide.” + +“Admitting that you have been paid in a proportion,” said the other, “I +will crave leave humbly to say that I have not. Paid I am, and none too +much, to be the second officer of this old tub, and you ken very well if +I do my best to earn it. But I was paid for nothing more.” + +“If ye could hold back your hand from the tin-pan, Mr. Riach, I would +have no complaint to make of ye,” returned the skipper; “and instead +of asking riddles, I make bold to say that ye would keep your breath to +cool your porridge. We’ll be required on deck,” he added, in a sharper +note, and set one foot upon the ladder. + +But Mr. Riach caught him by the sleeve. + +“Admitting that you have been paid to do a murder----” he began. + +Hoseason turned upon him with a flash. + +“What’s that?” he cried. “What kind of talk is that?” + +“It seems it is the talk that you can understand,” said Mr. Riach, +looking him steadily in the face. + +“Mr. Riach, I have sailed with ye three cruises,” replied the captain. +“In all that time, sir, ye should have learned to know me: I’m a stiff +man, and a dour man; but for what ye say the now--fie, fie!--it comes +from a bad heart and a black conscience. If ye say the lad will die----” + +“Ay, will he!” said Mr. Riach. + +“Well, sir, is not that enough?” said Hoseason. “Flit him where ye +please!” + +Thereupon the captain ascended the ladder; and I, who had lain silent +throughout this strange conversation, beheld Mr. Riach turn after him +and bow as low as to his knees in what was plainly a spirit of derision. +Even in my then state of sickness, I perceived two things: that the +mate was touched with liquor, as the captain hinted, and that (drunk or +sober) he was like to prove a valuable friend. + +Five minutes afterwards my bonds were cut, I was hoisted on a man’s +back, carried up to the forecastle, and laid in a bunk on some +sea-blankets; where the first thing that I did was to lose my senses. + +It was a blessed thing indeed to open my eyes again upon the daylight, +and to find myself in the society of men. The forecastle was a roomy +place enough, set all about with berths, in which the men of the watch +below were seated smoking, or lying down asleep. The day being calm and +the wind fair, the scuttle was open, and not only the good daylight, but +from time to time (as the ship rolled) a dusty beam of sunlight shone +in, and dazzled and delighted me. I had no sooner moved, moreover, than +one of the men brought me a drink of something healing which Mr. Riach +had prepared, and bade me lie still and I should soon be well again. +There were no bones broken, he explained: “A clour[11] on the head was +naething. Man,” said he, “it was me that gave it ye!” + + [11] Blow. + +Here I lay for the space of many days a close prisoner, and not only got +my health again, but came to know my companions. They were a rough lot +indeed, as sailors mostly are: being men rooted out of all the kindly +parts of life, and condemned to toss together on the rough seas, with +masters no less cruel. There were some among them that had sailed with +the pirates and seen things it would be a shame even to speak of; some +were men that had run from the king’s ships, and went with a halter +round their necks, of which they made no secret; and all, as the saying +goes, were “at a word and a blow” with their best friends. Yet I had +not been many days shut up with them before I began to be ashamed of my +first judgment, when I had drawn away from them at the Ferry pier, as +though they had been unclean beasts. No class of man is altogether bad, +but each has its own faults and virtues; and these shipmates of mine +were no exception to the rule. Rough they were, sure enough; and bad, I +suppose; but they had many virtues. They were kind when it occurred to +them, simple even beyond the simplicity of a country lad like me, and +had some glimmerings of honesty. + +There was one man, of maybe forty, that would sit on my berthside for +hours and tell me of his wife and child. He was a fisher that had lost +his boat, and thus been driven to the deep-sea voyaging. Well, it is +years ago now: but I have never forgotten him. His wife (who was “young +by him,” as he often told me) waited in vain to see her man return; he +would never again make the fire for her in the morning, nor yet keep +the bairn when she was sick. Indeed, many of these poor fellows (as the +event proved) were upon their last cruise; the deep seas and cannibal +fish received them; and it is a thankless business to speak ill of the +dead. + +Among other good deeds that they did, they returned my money, which had +been shared among them; and though it was about a third short, I was +very glad to get it, and hoped great good from it in the land I was +going to. The ship was bound for the Carolinas; and you must not suppose +that I was going to that place merely as an exile. The trade was even +then much depressed; since that, and with the rebellion of the colonies +and the formation of the United States, it has, of course, come to +an end; but in those days of my youth, white men were still sold into +slavery on the plantations, and that was the destiny to which my wicked +uncle had condemned me. + +The cabin-boy Ransome (from whom I had first heard of these atrocities) +came in at times from the round-house, where he berthed and served, now +nursing a bruised limb in silent agony, now raving against the cruelty +of Mr. Shuan. It made my heart bleed; but the men had a great respect +for the chief mate, who was, as they said, “the only seaman of the whole +jing-bang, and none such a bad man when he was sober.” Indeed, I found +there was a strange peculiarity about our two mates: that Mr. Riach was +sullen, unkind, and harsh when he was sober, and Mr. Shuan would not +hurt a fly except when he was drinking. I asked about the captain; but I +was told drink made no difference upon that man of iron. + +I did my best in the small time allowed me to make some thing like a +man, or rather I should say something like a boy, of the poor creature, +Ransome. But his mind was scarce truly human. He could remember nothing +of the time before he came to sea; only that his father had made clocks, +and had a starling in the parlour, which could whistle “The North +Countrie;” all else had been blotted out in these years of hardship +and cruelties. He had a strange notion of the dry land, picked up from +sailor’s stories: that it was a place where lads were put to some kind +of slavery called a trade, and where apprentices were continually lashed +and clapped into foul prisons. In a town, he thought every second person +a decoy, and every third house a place in which seamen would be drugged +and murdered. To be sure, I would tell him how kindly I had myself been +used upon that dry land he was so much afraid of, and how well fed and +carefully taught both by my friends and my parents: and if he had been +recently hurt, he would weep bitterly and swear to run away; but if +he was in his usual crackbrain humour, or (still more) if he had had a +glass of spirits in the roundhouse, he would deride the notion. + +It was Mr. Riach (Heaven forgive him!) who gave the boy drink; and +it was, doubtless, kindly meant; but besides that it was ruin to his +health, it was the pitifullest thing in life to see this unhappy, +unfriended creature staggering, and dancing, and talking he knew not +what. Some of the men laughed, but not all; others would grow as black +as thunder (thinking, perhaps, of their own childhood or their own +children) and bid him stop that nonsense, and think what he was doing. +As for me, I felt ashamed to look at him, and the poor child still comes +about me in my dreams. + +All this time, you should know, the _Covenant_ was meeting continual +head-winds and tumbling up and down against head-seas, so that the +scuttle was almost constantly shut, and the forecastle lighted only by a +swinging lantern on a beam. There was constant labour for all hands; the +sails had to be made and shortened every hour; the strain told on the +men’s temper; there was a growl of quarrelling all day long from berth +to berth; and as I was never allowed to set my foot on deck, you +can picture to yourselves how weary of my life I grew to be, and how +impatient for a change. + +And a change I was to get, as you shall hear; but I must first tell of +a conversation I had with Mr. Riach, which put a little heart in me to +bear my troubles. Getting him in a favourable stage of drink (for indeed +he never looked near me when he was sober), I pledged him to secrecy, +and told him my whole story. + +He declared it was like a ballad; that he would do his best to help +me; that I should have paper, pen, and ink, and write one line to Mr. +Campbell and another to Mr. Rankeillor; and that if I had told the +truth, ten to one he would be able (with their help) to pull me through +and set me in my rights. + +“And in the meantime,” says he, “keep your heart up. You’re not the only +one, I’ll tell you that. There’s many a man hoeing tobacco over-seas +that should be mounting his horse at his own door at home; many and +many! And life is all a variorum, at the best. Look at me: I’m a laird’s +son and more than half a doctor, and here I am, man-Jack to Hoseason!” + +I thought it would be civil to ask him for his story. + +He whistled loud. + +“Never had one,” said he. “I like fun, that’s all.” And he skipped out +of the forecastle. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE ROUND-HOUSE + + +One night, about eleven o’clock, a man of Mr. Riach’s watch (which was +on deck) came below for his jacket; and instantly there began to go +a whisper about the forecastle that “Shuan had done for him at last.” + There was no need of a name; we all knew who was meant; but we had +scarce time to get the idea rightly in our heads, far less to speak of +it, when the scuttle was again flung open, and Captain Hoseason came +down the ladder. He looked sharply round the bunks in the tossing light +of the lantern; and then, walking straight up to me, he addressed me, to +my surprise, in tones of kindness. + +“My man,” said he, “we want ye to serve in the round-house. You and +Ransome are to change berths. Run away aft with ye.” + +Even as he spoke, two seamen appeared in the scuttle, carrying Ransome +in their arms; and the ship at that moment giving a great sheer into the +sea, and the lantern swinging, the light fell direct on the boy’s face. +It was as white as wax, and had a look upon it like a dreadful smile. +The blood in me ran cold, and I drew in my breath as if I had been +struck. + +“Run away aft; run away aft with ye!” cried Hoseason. + +And at that I brushed by the sailors and the boy (who neither spoke nor +moved), and ran up the ladder on deck. + +The brig was sheering swiftly and giddily through a long, cresting +swell. She was on the starboard tack, and on the left hand, under the +arched foot of the foresail, I could see the sunset still quite bright. +This, at such an hour of the night, surprised me greatly; but I was too +ignorant to draw the true conclusion--that we were going north-about +round Scotland, and were now on the high sea between the Orkney and +Shetland Islands, having avoided the dangerous currents of the Pentland +Firth. For my part, who had been so long shut in the dark and knew +nothing of head-winds, I thought we might be half-way or more across the +Atlantic. And indeed (beyond that I wondered a little at the lateness of +the sunset light) I gave no heed to it, and pushed on across the decks, +running between the seas, catching at ropes, and only saved from going +overboard by one of the hands on deck, who had been always kind to me. + +The round-house, for which I was bound, and where I was now to sleep and +serve, stood some six feet above the decks, and considering the size of +the brig, was of good dimensions. Inside were a fixed table and bench, +and two berths, one for the captain and the other for the two mates, +turn and turn about. It was all fitted with lockers from top to bottom, +so as to stow away the officers’ belongings and a part of the ship’s +stores; there was a second store-room underneath, which you entered by a +hatchway in the middle of the deck; indeed, all the best of the meat and +drink and the whole of the powder were collected in this place; and all +the firearms, except the two pieces of brass ordnance, were set in a +rack in the aftermost wall of the round-house. The most of the cutlasses +were in another place. + +A small window with a shutter on each side, and a skylight in the roof, +gave it light by day; and after dark there was a lamp always burning. +It was burning when I entered, not brightly, but enough to show Mr. +Shuan sitting at the table, with the brandy bottle and a tin pannikin +in front of him. He was a tall man, strongly made and very black; and he +stared before him on the table like one stupid. + +He took no notice of my coming in; nor did he move when the captain +followed and leant on the berth beside me, looking darkly at the mate. +I stood in great fear of Hoseason, and had my reasons for it; but +something told me I need not be afraid of him just then; and I whispered +in his ear: “How is he?” He shook his head like one that does not know +and does not wish to think, and his face was very stern. + +Presently Mr. Riach came in. He gave the captain a glance that meant the +boy was dead as plain as speaking, and took his place like the rest +of us; so that we all three stood without a word, staring down at Mr. +Shuan, and Mr. Shuan (on his side) sat without a word, looking hard upon +the table. + +All of a sudden he put out his hand to take the bottle; and at that Mr. +Riach started forward and caught it away from him, rather by surprise +than violence, crying out, with an oath, that there had been too much of +this work altogether, and that a judgment would fall upon the ship. +And as he spoke (the weather sliding-doors standing open) he tossed the +bottle into the sea. + +Mr. Shuan was on his feet in a trice; he still looked dazed, but he +meant murder, ay, and would have done it, for the second time that +night, had not the captain stepped in between him and his victim. + +“Sit down!” roars the captain. “Ye sot and swine, do ye know what ye’ve +done? Ye’ve murdered the boy!” + +Mr. Shuan seemed to understand; for he sat down again, and put up his +hand to his brow. + +“Well,” he said, “he brought me a dirty pannikin!” + +At that word, the captain and I and Mr. Riach all looked at each other +for a second with a kind of frightened look; and then Hoseason walked +up to his chief officer, took him by the shoulder, led him across to his +bunk, and bade him lie down and go to sleep, as you might speak to a bad +child. The murderer cried a little, but he took off his sea-boots and +obeyed. + +“Ah!” cried Mr. Riach, with a dreadful voice, “ye should have interfered +long syne. It’s too late now.” + +“Mr. Riach,” said the captain, “this night’s work must never be kennt +in Dysart. The boy went overboard, sir; that’s what the story is; and I +would give five pounds out of my pocket it was true!” He turned to the +table. “What made ye throw the good bottle away?” he added. “There was +nae sense in that, sir. Here, David, draw me another. They’re in the +bottom locker;” and he tossed me a key. “Ye’ll need a glass yourself, +sir,” he added to Riach. “Yon was an ugly thing to see.” + +So the pair sat down and hob-a-nobbed; and while they did so, the +murderer, who had been lying and whimpering in his berth, raised himself +upon his elbow and looked at them and at me. + +That was the first night of my new duties; and in the course of the next +day I had got well into the run of them. I had to serve at the meals, +which the captain took at regular hours, sitting down with the officer +who was off duty; all the day through I would be running with a dram +to one or other of my three masters; and at night I slept on a blanket +thrown on the deck boards at the aftermost end of the round-house, and +right in the draught of the two doors. It was a hard and a cold bed; +nor was I suffered to sleep without interruption; for some one would be +always coming in from deck to get a dram, and when a fresh watch was +to be set, two and sometimes all three would sit down and brew a bowl +together. How they kept their health, I know not, any more than how I +kept my own. + +And yet in other ways it was an easy service. There was no cloth to lay; +the meals were either of oatmeal porridge or salt junk, except twice a +week, when there was duff: and though I was clumsy enough and (not being +firm on my sealegs) sometimes fell with what I was bringing them, both +Mr. Riach and the captain were singularly patient. I could not but fancy +they were making up lee-way with their consciences, and that they +would scarce have been so good with me if they had not been worse with +Ransome. + +As for Mr. Shuan, the drink or his crime, or the two together, had +certainly troubled his mind. I cannot say I ever saw him in his proper +wits. He never grew used to my being there, stared at me continually +(sometimes, I could have thought, with terror), and more than once drew +back from my hand when I was serving him. I was pretty sure from the +first that he had no clear mind of what he had done, and on my second +day in the round-house I had the proof of it. We were alone, and he had +been staring at me a long time, when all at once, up he got, as pale as +death, and came close up to me, to my great terror. But I had no cause +to be afraid of him. + +“You were not here before?” he asked. + +“No, sir,” said I.” + +“There was another boy?” he asked again; and when I had answered him, +“Ah!” says he, “I thought that,” and went and sat down, without another +word, except to call for brandy. + +You may think it strange, but for all the horror I had, I was still +sorry for him. He was a married man, with a wife in Leith; but whether +or no he had a family, I have now forgotten; I hope not. + +Altogether it was no very hard life for the time it lasted, which (as +you are to hear) was not long. I was as well fed as the best of them; +even their pickles, which were the great dainty, I was allowed my share +of; and had I liked I might have been drunk from morning to night, like +Mr. Shuan. I had company, too, and good company of its sort. Mr. Riach, +who had been to the college, spoke to me like a friend when he was not +sulking, and told me many curious things, and some that were informing; +and even the captain, though he kept me at the stick’s end the most part +of the time, would sometimes unbuckle a bit, and tell me of the fine +countries he had visited. + +The shadow of poor Ransome, to be sure, lay on all four of us, and on +me and Mr. Shuan in particular, most heavily. And then I had another +trouble of my own. Here I was, doing dirty work for three men that I +looked down upon, and one of whom, at least, should have hung upon a +gallows; that was for the present; and as for the future, I could only +see myself slaving alongside of negroes in the tobacco fields. Mr. +Riach, perhaps from caution, would never suffer me to say another word +about my story; the captain, whom I tried to approach, rebuffed me like +a dog and would not hear a word; and as the days came and went, my heart +sank lower and lower, till I was even glad of the work which kept me +from thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD + + +More than a week went by, in which the ill-luck that had hitherto +pursued the _Covenant_ upon this voyage grew yet more strongly marked. +Some days she made a little way; others, she was driven actually back. +At last we were beaten so far to the south that we tossed and tacked to +and fro the whole of the ninth day, within sight of Cape Wrath and the +wild, rocky coast on either hand of it. There followed on that a council +of the officers, and some decision which I did not rightly understand, +seeing only the result: that we had made a fair wind of a foul one and +were running south. + +The tenth afternoon there was a falling swell and a thick, wet, white +fog that hid one end of the brig from the other. All afternoon, when +I went on deck, I saw men and officers listening hard over the +bulwarks--“for breakers,” they said; and though I did not so much as +understand the word, I felt danger in the air, and was excited. + +Maybe about ten at night, I was serving Mr. Riach and the captain at +their supper, when the ship struck something with a great sound, and we +heard voices singing out. My two masters leaped to their feet. + +“She’s struck!” said Mr. Riach. + +“No, sir,” said the captain. “We’ve only run a boat down.” + +And they hurried out. + +The captain was in the right of it. We had run down a boat in the fog, +and she had parted in the midst and gone to the bottom with all her crew +but one. This man (as I heard afterwards) had been sitting in the stern +as a passenger, while the rest were on the benches rowing. At the moment +of the blow, the stern had been thrown into the air, and the man (having +his hands free, and for all he was encumbered with a frieze overcoat +that came below his knees) had leaped up and caught hold of the brig’s +bowsprit. It showed he had luck and much agility and unusual strength, +that he should have thus saved himself from such a pass. And yet, when +the captain brought him into the round-house, and I set eyes on him for +the first time, he looked as cool as I did. + +He was smallish in stature, but well set and as nimble as a goat; his +face was of a good open expression, but sunburnt very dark, and heavily +freckled and pitted with the small-pox; his eyes were unusually light +and had a kind of dancing madness in them, that was both engaging and +alarming; and when he took off his great-coat, he laid a pair of fine +silver-mounted pistols on the table, and I saw that he was belted with +a great sword. His manners, besides, were elegant, and he pledged the +captain handsomely. Altogether I thought of him, at the first sight, +that here was a man I would rather call my friend than my enemy. + +The captain, too, was taking his observations, but rather of the man’s +clothes than his person. And to be sure, as soon as he had taken off +the great-coat, he showed forth mighty fine for the round-house of a +merchant brig: having a hat with feathers, a red waistcoat, breeches +of black plush, and a blue coat with silver buttons and handsome silver +lace; costly clothes, though somewhat spoiled with the fog and being +slept in. + +“I’m vexed, sir, about the boat,” says the captain. + +“There are some pretty men gone to the bottom,” said the stranger, “that +I would rather see on the dry land again than half a score of boats.” + +“Friends of yours?” said Hoseason. + +“You have none such friends in your country,” was the reply. “They would +have died for me like dogs.” + +“Well, sir,” said the captain, still watching him, “there are more men +in the world than boats to put them in.” + +“And that’s true, too,” cried the other, “and ye seem to be a gentleman +of great penetration.” + +“I have been in France, sir,” says the captain, so that it was plain he +meant more by the words than showed upon the face of them. + +“Well, sir,” says the other, “and so has many a pretty man, for the +matter of that.” + +“No doubt, sir,” says the captain, “and fine coats.” + +“Oho!” says the stranger, “is that how the wind sets?” And he laid his +hand quickly on his pistols. + +“Don’t be hasty,” said the captain. “Don’t do a mischief before ye +see the need of it. Ye’ve a French soldier’s coat upon your back and a +Scotch tongue in your head, to be sure; but so has many an honest fellow +in these days, and I dare say none the worse of it.” + +“So?” said the gentleman in the fine coat: “are ye of the honest party?” + (meaning, Was he a Jacobite? for each side, in these sort of civil +broils, takes the name of honesty for its own). + +“Why, sir,” replied the captain, “I am a true-blue Protestant, and I +thank God for it.” (It was the first word of any religion I had ever +heard from him, but I learnt afterwards he was a great church-goer while +on shore.) “But, for all that,” says he, “I can be sorry to see another +man with his back to the wall.” + +“Can ye so, indeed?” asked the Jacobite. “Well, sir, to be quite plain +with ye, I am one of those honest gentlemen that were in trouble about +the years forty-five and six; and (to be still quite plain with ye) if +I got into the hands of any of the red-coated gentry, it’s like it would +go hard with me. Now, sir, I was for France; and there was a French ship +cruising here to pick me up; but she gave us the go-by in the fog--as I +wish from the heart that ye had done yoursel’! And the best that I can +say is this: If ye can set me ashore where I was going, I have that upon +me will reward you highly for your trouble.” + +“In France?” says the captain. “No, sir; that I cannot do. But where ye +come from--we might talk of that.” + +And then, unhappily, he observed me standing in my corner, and packed +me off to the galley to get supper for the gentleman. I lost no time, +I promise you; and when I came back into the round-house, I found the +gentleman had taken a money-belt from about his waist, and poured out +a guinea or two upon the table. The captain was looking at the guineas, +and then at the belt, and then at the gentleman’s face; and I thought he +seemed excited. + +“Half of it,” he cried, “and I’m your man!” + +The other swept back the guineas into the belt, and put it on again +under his waistcoat. “I have told ye sir,” said he, “that not one doit +of it belongs to me. It belongs to my chieftain,” and here he touched +his hat, “and while I would be but a silly messenger to grudge some of +it that the rest might come safe, I should show myself a hound indeed if +I bought my own carcase any too dear. Thirty guineas on the sea-side, or +sixty if ye set me on the Linnhe Loch. Take it, if ye will; if not, ye +can do your worst.” + +“Ay,” said Hoseason. “And if I give ye over to the soldiers?” + +“Ye would make a fool’s bargain,” said the other. “My chief, let me tell +you, sir, is forfeited, like every honest man in Scotland. His estate +is in the hands of the man they call King George; and it is his officers +that collect the rents, or try to collect them. But for the honour of +Scotland, the poor tenant bodies take a thought upon their chief lying +in exile; and this money is a part of that very rent for which King +George is looking. Now, sir, ye seem to me to be a man that understands +things: bring this money within the reach of Government, and how much of +it’ll come to you?” + +“Little enough, to be sure,” said Hoseason; and then, “if they knew,” he +added, drily. “But I think, if I was to try, that I could hold my tongue +about it.” + +“Ah, but I’ll begowk[12] ye there!” cried the gentleman. “Play me false, +and I’ll play you cunning. If a hand is laid upon me, they shall ken +what money it is.” + + [12] Befool. + +“Well,” returned the captain, “what must be must. Sixty guineas, and +done. Here’s my hand upon it.” + +“And here’s mine,” said the other. + +And thereupon the captain went out (rather hurriedly, I thought), and +left me alone in the round-house with the stranger. + +At that period (so soon after the forty-five) there were many exiled +gentlemen coming back at the peril of their lives, either to see their +friends or to collect a little money; and as for the Highland chiefs +that had been forfeited, it was a common matter of talk how their +tenants would stint themselves to send them money, and their clansmen +outface the soldiery to get it in, and run the gauntlet of our great +navy to carry it across. All this I had, of course, heard tell of; and +now I had a man under my eyes whose life was forfeit on all these counts +and upon one more, for he was not only a rebel and a smuggler of rents, +but had taken service with King Louis of France. And as if all this +were not enough, he had a belt full of golden guineas round his loins. +Whatever my opinions, I could not look on such a man without a lively +interest. + +“And so you’re a Jacobite?” said I, as I set meat before him. + +“Ay,” said he, beginning to eat. “And you, by your long face, should be +a Whig?”[13] + + [13] Whig or Whigamore was the cant name for those who were + loyal to King George. + +“Betwixt and between,” said I, not to annoy him; for indeed I was as +good a Whig as Mr. Campbell could make me. + +“And that’s naething,” said he. “But I’m saying, Mr. +Betwixt-and-Between,” he added, “this bottle of yours is dry; and it’s +hard if I’m to pay sixty guineas and be grudged a dram upon the back of +it.” + +“I’ll go and ask for the key,” said I, and stepped on deck. + +The fog was as close as ever, but the swell almost down. They had laid +the brig to, not knowing precisely where they were, and the wind (what +little there was of it) not serving well for their true course. Some of +the hands were still hearkening for breakers; but the captain and the +two officers were in the waist with their heads together. It struck me +(I don’t know why) that they were after no good; and the first word I +heard, as I drew softly near, more than confirmed me. + +It was Mr. Riach, crying out as if upon a sudden thought: “Couldn’t we +wile him out of the round-house?” + +“He’s better where he is,” returned Hoseason; “he hasn’t room to use his +sword.” + +“Well, that’s true,” said Riach; “but he’s hard to come at.” + +“Hut!” said Hoseason. “We can get the man in talk, one upon each side, +and pin him by the two arms; or if that’ll not hold, sir, we can make a +run by both the doors and get him under hand before he has the time to +draw.” + +At this hearing, I was seized with both fear and anger at these +treacherous, greedy, bloody men that I sailed with. My first mind was to +run away; my second was bolder. + +“Captain,” said I, “the gentleman is seeking a dram, and the bottle’s +out. Will you give me the key?” + +They all started and turned about. + +“Why, here’s our chance to get the firearms!” + +Riach cried; and then to me: “Hark ye, David,” he said, “do ye ken where +the pistols are?” + +“Ay, ay,” put in Hoseason. “David kens; David’s a good lad. Ye see, +David my man, yon wild Hielandman is a danger to the ship, besides being +a rank foe to King George, God bless him!” + +I had never been so be-Davided since I came on board: but I said Yes, as +if all I heard were quite natural. + +“The trouble is,” resumed the captain, “that all our firelocks, great +and little, are in the round-house under this man’s nose; likewise the +powder. Now, if I, or one of the officers, was to go in and take them, +he would fall to thinking. But a lad like you, David, might snap up a +horn and a pistol or two without remark. And if ye can do it cleverly, +I’ll bear it in mind when it’ll be good for you to have friends; and +that’s when we come to Carolina.” + +Here Mr. Riach whispered him a little. + +“Very right, sir,” said the captain; and then to myself: “And see here, +David, yon man has a beltful of gold, and I give you my word that you +shall have your fingers in it.” + +I told him I would do as he wished, though indeed I had scarce breath to +speak with; and upon that he gave me the key of the spirit locker, and I +began to go slowly back to the round-house. What was I to do? They +were dogs and thieves; they had stolen me from my own country; they had +killed poor Ransome; and was I to hold the candle to another murder? But +then, upon the other hand, there was the fear of death very plain before +me; for what could a boy and a man, if they were as brave as lions, +against a whole ship’s company? + +I was still arguing it back and forth, and getting no great clearness, +when I came into the round-house and saw the Jacobite eating his supper +under the lamp; and at that my mind was made up all in a moment. I have +no credit by it; it was by no choice of mine, but as if by compulsion, +that I walked right up to the table and put my hand on his shoulder. + +“Do ye want to be killed?” said I. He sprang to his feet, and looked a +question at me as clear as if he had spoken. + +“O!” cried I, “they’re all murderers here; it’s a ship full of them! +They’ve murdered a boy already. Now it’s you.” + +“Ay, ay,” said he; “but they have n’t got me yet.” And then looking at me +curiously, “Will ye stand with me?” + +“That will I!” said I. “I am no thief, nor yet murderer. I’ll stand by +you.” + +“Why, then,” said he, “what’s your name?” + +“David Balfour,” said I; and then, thinking that a man with so fine a +coat must like fine people, I added for the first time, “of Shaws.” + +It never occurred to him to doubt me, for a Highlander is used to see +great gentlefolk in great poverty; but as he had no estate of his own, +my words nettled a very childish vanity he had. + +“My name is Stewart,” he said, drawing himself up. “Alan Breck, they +call me. A king’s name is good enough for me, though I bear it plain and +have the name of no farm-midden to clap to the hind-end of it.” + +And having administered this rebuke, as though it were something of a +chief importance, he turned to examine our defences. + +The round-house was built very strong, to support the breaching of the +seas. Of its five apertures, only the skylight and the two doors were +large enough for the passage of a man. The doors, besides, could be +drawn close: they were of stout oak, and ran in grooves, and were fitted +with hooks to keep them either shut or open, as the need arose. The +one that was already shut I secured in this fashion; but when I was +proceeding to slide to the other, Alan stopped me. + +“David,” said he--“for I cannae bring to mind the name of your landed +estate, and so will make so bold as to call you David--that door, being +open, is the best part of my defences.” + +“It would be yet better shut,” says I. + +“Not so, David,” says he. “Ye see, I have but one face; but so long as +that door is open and my face to it, the best part of my enemies will be +in front of me, where I would aye wish to find them.” + +Then he gave me from the rack a cutlass (of which there were a few +besides the firearms), choosing it with great care, shaking his head and +saying he had never in all his life seen poorer weapons; and next he set +me down to the table with a powder-horn, a bag of bullets and all the +pistols, which he bade me charge. + +“And that will be better work, let me tell you,” said he, “for a +gentleman of decent birth, than scraping plates and raxing[14] drams to a +wheen tarry sailors.” + + [14] Reaching. + +Thereupon he stood up in the midst with his face to the door, and +drawing his great sword, made trial of the room he had to wield it in. + +“I must stick to the point,” he said, shaking his head; “and that’s a +pity, too. It doesn’t set my genius, which is all for the upper guard. +And, now,” said he, “do you keep on charging the pistols, and give heed +to me.” + +I told him I would listen closely. My chest was tight, my mouth dry, the +light dark to my eyes; the thought of the numbers that were soon to +leap in upon us kept my heart in a flutter: and the sea, which I heard +washing round the brig, and where I thought my dead body would be cast +ere morning, ran in my mind strangely. + +“First of all,” said he, “how many are against us?” + +I reckoned them up; and such was the hurry of my mind, I had to cast the +numbers twice. “Fifteen,” said I. + +Alan whistled. “Well,” said he, “that can’t be cured. And now follow me. +It is my part to keep this door, where I look for the main battle. In +that, ye have no hand. And mind and dinnae fire to this side unless they +get me down; for I would rather have ten foes in front of me than one +friend like you cracking pistols at my back.” + +I told him, indeed I was no great shot. + +“And that’s very bravely said,” he cried, in a great admiration of my +candour. “There’s many a pretty gentleman that wouldnae dare to say it.” + +“But then, sir,” said I, “there is the door behind you, which they may +perhaps break in.” + +“Ay,” said he, “and that is a part of your work. No sooner the pistols +charged, than ye must climb up into yon bed where ye’re handy at the +window; and if they lift hand against the door, ye’re to shoot. But +that’s not all. Let’s make a bit of a soldier of ye, David. What else +have ye to guard?” + +“There’s the skylight,” said I. “But indeed, Mr. Stewart, I would need +to have eyes upon both sides to keep the two of them; for when my face +is at the one, my back is to the other.” + +“And that’s very true,” said Alan. “But have ye no ears to your head?” + +“To be sure!” cried I. “I must hear the bursting of the glass!” + +“Ye have some rudiments of sense,” said Alan, grimly. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE + + +But now our time of truce was come to an end. Those on deck had waited +for my coming till they grew impatient; and scarce had Alan spoken, when +the captain showed face in the open door. + +“Stand!” cried Alan, and pointed his sword at him. The captain stood, +indeed; but he neither winced nor drew back a foot. + +“A naked sword?” says he. “This is a strange return for hospitality.” + +“Do ye see me?” said Alan. “I am come of kings; I bear a king’s name. My +badge is the oak. Do ye see my sword? It has slashed the heads off mair +Whigamores than you have toes upon your feet. Call up your vermin to +your back, sir, and fall on! The sooner the clash begins, the sooner +ye’ll taste this steel throughout your vitals.” + +The captain said nothing to Alan, but he looked over at me with an ugly +look. “David,” said he, “I’ll mind this;” and the sound of his voice +went through me with a jar. + +Next moment he was gone. + +“And now,” said Alan, “let your hand keep your head, for the grip is +coming.” + +Alan drew a dirk, which he held in his left hand in case they should run +in under his sword. I, on my part, clambered up into the berth with +an armful of pistols and something of a heavy heart, and set open the +window where I was to watch. It was a small part of the deck that I +could overlook, but enough for our purpose. The sea had gone down, and +the wind was steady and kept the sails quiet; so that there was a +great stillness in the ship, in which I made sure I heard the sound of +muttering voices. A little after, and there came a clash of steel upon +the deck, by which I knew they were dealing out the cutlasses and one +had been let fall; and after that, silence again. + +I do not know if I was what you call afraid; but my heart beat like a +bird’s, both quick and little; and there was a dimness came before my +eyes which I continually rubbed away, and which continually returned. As +for hope, I had none; but only a darkness of despair and a sort of anger +against all the world that made me long to sell my life as dear as I was +able. I tried to pray, I remember, but that same hurry of my mind, like +a man running, would not suffer me to think upon the words; and my chief +wish was to have the thing begin and be done with it. + +It came all of a sudden when it did, with a rush of feet and a roar, and +then a shout from Alan, and a sound of blows and some one crying out +as if hurt. I looked back over my shoulder, and saw Mr. Shuan in the +doorway, crossing blades with Alan. + +“That’s him that killed the boy!” I cried. + +“Look to your window!” said Alan; and as I turned back to my place, I +saw him pass his sword through the mate’s body. + +It was none too soon for me to look to my own part; for my head was +scarce back at the window, before five men, carrying a spare yard for +a battering-ram, ran past me and took post to drive the door in. I had +never fired with a pistol in my life, and not often with a gun; far less +against a fellow-creature. But it was now or never; and just as they +swang the yard, I cried out: “Take that!” and shot into their midst. + +I must have hit one of them, for he sang out and gave back a step, and +the rest stopped as if a little disconcerted. Before they had time to +recover, I sent another ball over their heads; and at my third shot +(which went as wide as the second) the whole party threw down the yard +and ran for it. + +Then I looked round again into the deck-house. The whole place was full +of the smoke of my own firing, just as my ears seemed to be burst with +the noise of the shots. But there was Alan, standing as before; only +now his sword was running blood to the hilt, and himself so swelled +with triumph and fallen into so fine an attitude, that he looked to be +invincible. Right before him on the floor was Mr. Shuan, on his hands +and knees; the blood was pouring from his mouth, and he was sinking +slowly lower, with a terrible, white face; and just as I looked, some of +those from behind caught hold of him by the heels and dragged him bodily +out of the round-house. I believe he died as they were doing it. + +“There’s one of your Whigs for ye!” cried Alan; and then turning to me, +he asked if I had done much execution. + +I told him I had winged one, and thought it was the captain. + +“And I’ve settled two,” says he. “No, there’s not enough blood let; +they’ll be back again. To your watch, David. This was but a dram before +meat.” + +I settled back to my place, re-charging the three pistols I had fired, +and keeping watch with both eye and ear. + +Our enemies were disputing not far off upon the deck, and that so loudly +that I could hear a word or two above the washing of the seas. + +“It was Shuan bauchled[15] it,” I heard one say. + + [15] Bungled. + +And another answered him with a “Wheesht, man! He’s paid the piper.” + +After that the voices fell again into the same muttering as before. Only +now, one person spoke most of the time, as though laying down a plan, +and first one and then another answered him briefly, like men taking +orders. By this, I made sure they were coming on again, and told Alan. + +“It’s what we have to pray for,” said he. “Unless we can give them a +good distaste of us, and done with it, there’ll be nae sleep for either +you or me. But this time, mind, they’ll be in earnest.” + +By this, my pistols were ready, and there was nothing to do but listen +and wait. While the brush lasted, I had not the time to think if I was +frighted; but now, when all was still again, my mind ran upon nothing +else. The thought of the sharp swords and the cold steel was strong in +me; and presently, when I began to hear stealthy steps and a brushing +of men’s clothes against the round-house wall, and knew they were taking +their places in the dark, I could have found it in my mind to cry out +aloud. + +All this was upon Alan’s side; and I had begun to think my share of the +fight was at an end, when I heard some one drop softly on the roof above +me. + +Then there came a single call on the sea-pipe, and that was the signal. +A knot of them made one rush of it, cutlass in hand, against the door; +and at the same moment, the glass of the skylight was dashed in a +thousand pieces, and a man leaped through and landed on the floor. +Before he got his feet, I had clapped a pistol to his back, and might +have shot him, too; only at the touch of him (and him alive) my whole +flesh misgave me, and I could no more pull the trigger than I could have +flown. + +He had dropped his cutlass as he jumped, and when he felt the pistol, +whipped straight round and laid hold of me, roaring out an oath; and at +that either my courage came again, or I grew so much afraid as came to +the same thing; for I gave a shriek and shot him in the midst of the +body. He gave the most horrible, ugly groan and fell to the floor. The +foot of a second fellow, whose legs were dangling through the skylight, +struck me at the same time upon the head; and at that I snatched another +pistol and shot this one through the thigh, so that he slipped through +and tumbled in a lump on his companion’s body. There was no talk of +missing, any more than there was time to aim; I clapped the muzzle to +the very place and fired. + +I might have stood and stared at them for long, but I heard Alan shout +as if for help, and that brought me to my senses. + +He had kept the door so long; but one of the seamen, while he was +engaged with others, had run in under his guard and caught him about the +body. Alan was dirking him with his left hand, but the fellow clung like +a leech. Another had broken in and had his cutlass raised. The door was +thronged with their faces. I thought we were lost, and catching up my +cutlass, fell on them in flank. + +But I had not time to be of help. The wrestler dropped at last; and +Alan, leaping back to get his distance, ran upon the others like a +bull, roaring as he went. They broke before him like water, turning, and +running, and falling one against another in their haste. The sword +in his hands flashed like quicksilver into the huddle of our fleeing +enemies; and at every flash there came the scream of a man hurt. I was +still thinking we were lost, when lo! they were all gone, and Alan was +driving them along the deck as a sheep-dog chases sheep. + +Yet he was no sooner out than he was back again, being as cautious as he +was brave; and meanwhile the seamen continued running and crying out as +if he was still behind them; and we heard them tumble one upon another +into the forecastle, and clap-to the hatch upon the top. + +The round-house was like a shambles; three were dead inside, another +lay in his death agony across the threshold; and there were Alan and I +victorious and unhurt. + +He came up to me with open arms. “Come to my arms!” he cried, and +embraced and kissed me hard upon both cheeks. “David,” said he, “I love +you like a brother. And O, man,” he cried in a kind of ecstasy, “am I no +a bonny fighter?” + +Thereupon he turned to the four enemies, passed his sword clean through +each of them, and tumbled them out of doors one after the other. As he +did so, he kept humming and singing and whistling to himself, like a man +trying to recall an air; only what _he_ was trying was to make one. All +the while, the flush was in his face, and his eyes were as bright as a +five-year-old child’s with a new toy. And presently he sat down upon the +table, sword in hand; the air that he was making all the time began to +run a little clearer, and then clearer still; and then out he burst with +a great voice into a Gaelic song. + +I have translated it here, not in verse (of which I have no skill) but +at least in the king’s English. + +He sang it often afterwards, and the thing became popular; so that I +have heard it and had it explained to me, many’s the time. + + “This is the song of the sword of Alan; + The smith made it, + The fire set it; + Now it shines in the hand of Alan Breck. + + “Their eyes were many and bright, + Swift were they to behold, + Many the hands they guided: + The sword was alone. + + “The dun deer troop over the hill, + They are many, the hill is one; + The dun deer vanish, + The hill remains. + + “Come to me from the hills of heather, + Come from the isles of the sea. + O far-beholding eagles, + Here is your meat.” + +Now this song which he made (both words and music) in the hour of our +victory, is something less than just to me, who stood beside him in +the tussle. Mr. Shuan and five more were either killed outright or +thoroughly disabled; but of these, two fell by my hand, the two that +came by the skylight. Four more were hurt, and of that number, one (and +he not the least important) got his hurt from me. So that, altogether, +I did my fair share both of the killing and the wounding, and might have +claimed a place in Alan’s verses. But poets have to think upon their +rhymes; and in good prose talk, Alan always did me more than justice. + +In the meanwhile, I was innocent of any wrong being done me. For not +only I knew no word of the Gaelic; but what with the long suspense of +the waiting, and the scurry and strain of our two spirts of fighting, +and more than all, the horror I had of some of my own share in it, the +thing was no sooner over than I was glad to stagger to a seat. There was +that tightness on my chest that I could hardly breathe; the thought +of the two men I had shot sat upon me like a nightmare; and all upon a +sudden, and before I had a guess of what was coming, I began to sob and +cry like any child. + +Alan clapped my shoulder, and said I was a brave lad and wanted nothing +but a sleep. + +“I’ll take the first watch,” said he. “Ye’ve done well by me, David, +first and last; and I wouldn’t lose you for all Appin--no, nor for +Breadalbane.” + +So I made up my bed on the floor; and he took the first spell, pistol +in hand and sword on knee, three hours by the captain’s watch upon the +wall. Then he roused me up, and I took my turn of three hours; before +the end of which it was broad day, and a very quiet morning, with a +smooth, rolling sea that tossed the ship and made the blood run to and +fro on the round-house floor, and a heavy rain that drummed upon the +roof. All my watch there was nothing stirring; and by the banging of the +helm, I knew they had even no one at the tiller. Indeed (as I learned +afterwards) there were so many of them hurt or dead, and the rest in so +ill a temper, that Mr. Riach and the captain had to take turn and turn +like Alan and me, or the brig might have gone ashore and nobody the +wiser. It was a mercy the night had fallen so still, for the wind had +gone down as soon as the rain began. Even as it was, I judged by the +wailing of a great number of gulls that went crying and fishing round +the ship, that she must have drifted pretty near the coast or one of +the islands of the Hebrides; and at last, looking out of the door of the +round-house, I saw the great stone hills of Skye on the right hand, and, +a little more astern, the strange isle of Rum. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER + + +Alan and I sat down to breakfast about six of the clock. The floor was +covered with broken glass and in a horrid mess of blood, which took away +my hunger. In all other ways we were in a situation not only agreeable +but merry; having ousted the officers from their own cabin, and having +at command all the drink in the ship--both wine and spirits--and all the +dainty part of what was eatable, such as the pickles and the fine sort +of bread. This, of itself, was enough to set us in good humour, but the +richest part of it was this, that the two thirstiest men that ever came +out of Scotland (Mr. Shuan being dead) were now shut in the fore-part of +the ship and condemned to what they hated most--cold water. + +“And depend upon it,” Alan said, “we shall hear more of them ere long. +Ye may keep a man from the fighting, but never from his bottle.” + +We made good company for each other. Alan, indeed, expressed himself +most lovingly; and taking a knife from the table, cut me off one of the +silver buttons from his coat. + +“I had them,” says he, “from my father, Duncan Stewart; and now give ye +one of them to be a keepsake for last night’s work. And wherever ye go +and show that button, the friends of Alan Breck will come around you.” + +He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies; and +indeed, much as I admired his courage, I was always in danger of smiling +at his vanity: in danger, I say, for had I not kept my countenance, I +would be afraid to think what a quarrel might have followed. + +As soon as we were through with our meal he rummaged in the captain’s +locker till he found a clothes-brush; and then taking off his coat, +began to visit his suit and brush away the stains, with such care and +labour as I supposed to have been only usual with women. To be sure, he +had no other; and, besides (as he said), it belonged to a king and so +behoved to be royally looked after. + +For all that, when I saw what care he took to pluck out the threads +where the button had been cut away, I put a higher value on his gift. + +He was still so engaged when we were hailed by Mr. Riach from the deck, +asking for a parley; and I, climbing through the skylight and sitting on +the edge of it, pistol in hand and with a bold front, though inwardly in +fear of broken glass, hailed him back again and bade him speak out. He +came to the edge of the round-house, and stood on a coil of rope, so +that his chin was on a level with the roof; and we looked at each other +awhile in silence. Mr. Riach, as I do not think he had been very forward +in the battle, so he had got off with nothing worse than a blow upon the +cheek: but he looked out of heart and very weary, having been all night +afoot, either standing watch or doctoring the wounded. + +“This is a bad job,” said he at last, shaking his head. + +“It was none of our choosing,” said I. + +“The captain,” says he, “would like to speak with your friend. They +might speak at the window.” + +“And how do we know what treachery he means?” cried I. + +“He means none, David,” returned Mr. Riach, “and if he did, I’ll tell ye +the honest truth, we couldnae get the men to follow.” + +“Is that so?” said I. + +“I’ll tell ye more than that,” said he. “It’s not only the men; it’s me. +I’m frich’ened, Davie.” And he smiled across at me. “No,” he continued, +“what we want is to be shut of him.” + +Thereupon I consulted with Alan, and the parley was agreed to and +parole given upon either side; but this was not the whole of Mr. Riach’s +business, and he now begged me for a dram with such instancy and such +reminders of his former kindness, that at last I handed him a pannikin +with about a gill of brandy. He drank a part, and then carried the rest +down upon the deck, to share it (I suppose) with his superior. + +A little after, the captain came (as was agreed) to one of the windows, +and stood there in the rain, with his arm in a sling, and looking stern +and pale, and so old that my heart smote me for having fired upon him. + +Alan at once held a pistol in his face. + +“Put that thing up!” said the captain. “Have I not passed my word, sir? +or do ye seek to affront me?” + +“Captain,” says Alan, “I doubt your word is a breakable. Last night ye +haggled and argle-bargled like an apple-wife; and then passed me your +word, and gave me your hand to back it; and ye ken very well what was +the upshot. Be damned to your word!” says he. + +“Well, well, sir,” said the captain, “ye’ll get little good by +swearing.” (And truly that was a fault of which the captain was quite +free.) “But we have other things to speak,” he continued, bitterly. +“Ye’ve made a sore hash of my brig; I haven’t hands enough left to work +her; and my first officer (whom I could ill spare) has got your sword +throughout his vitals, and passed without speech. There is nothing left +me, sir, but to put back into the port of Glasgow after hands; and there +(by your leave) ye will find them that are better able to talk to you.” + +“Ay?” said Alan; “and faith, I’ll have a talk with them mysel’! Unless +there’s naebody speaks English in that town, I have a bonny tale for +them. Fifteen tarry sailors upon the one side, and a man and a halfling +boy upon the other! O, man, it’s peetiful!” + +Hoseason flushed red. + +“No,” continued Alan, “that’ll no do. Ye’ll just have to set me ashore +as we agreed.” + +“Ay,” said Hoseason, “but my first officer is dead--ye ken best how. +There’s none of the rest of us acquaint with this coast, sir; and it’s +one very dangerous to ships.” + +“I give ye your choice,” says Alan. “Set me on dry ground in Appin, +or Ardgour, or in Morven, or Arisaig, or Morar; or, in brief, where ye +please, within thirty miles of my own country; except in a country of +the Campbells. That’s a broad target. If ye miss that, ye must be as +feckless at the sailoring as I have found ye at the fighting. Why, my +poor country people in their bit cobles[16] pass from island to island in +all weathers, ay, and by night too, for the matter of that.” + + [16] Coble: a small boat used in fishing. + +“A coble’s not a ship, sir,” said the captain. “It has nae draught of +water.” + +“Well, then, to Glasgow if ye list!” says Alan. “We’ll have the laugh of +ye at the least.” + +“My mind runs little upon laughing,” said the captain. “But all this +will cost money, sir.” + +“Well, sir,” says Alan, “I am nae weathercock. Thirty guineas, if ye land +me on the sea-side; and sixty, if ye put me in the Linnhe Loch.” + +“But see, sir, where we lie, we are but a few hours’ sail from +Ardnamurchan,” said Hoseason. “Give me sixty, and I’ll set ye there.” + +“And I’m to wear my brogues and run jeopardy of the red-coats to please +you?” cries Alan. “No, sir; if ye want sixty guineas earn them, and set +me in my own country.” + +“It’s to risk the brig, sir,” said the captain, “and your own lives +along with her.” + +“Take it or want it,” says Alan. + +“Could ye pilot us at all?” asked the captain, who was frowning to +himself. + +“Well, it’s doubtful,” said Alan. “I’m more of a fighting man (as ye +have seen for yoursel’) than a sailor-man. But I have been often enough +picked up and set down upon this coast, and should ken something of the +lie of it.” + +The captain shook his head, still frowning. + +“If I had lost less money on this unchancy cruise,” says he, “I would +see you in a rope’s end before I risked my brig, sir. But be it as ye +will. As soon as I get a slant of wind (and there’s some coming, or I’m +the more mistaken) I’ll put it in hand. But there’s one thing more. We +may meet in with a king’s ship and she may lay us aboard, sir, with no +blame of mine: they keep the cruisers thick upon this coast, ye ken who +for. Now, sir, if that was to befall, ye might leave the money.” + +“Captain,” says Alan, “if ye see a pennant, it shall be your part to +run away. And now, as I hear you’re a little short of brandy in the +fore-part, I’ll offer ye a change: a bottle of brandy against two +buckets of water.” + +That was the last clause of the treaty, and was duly executed on both +sides; so that Alan and I could at last wash out the round-house and be +quit of the memorials of those whom we had slain, and the captain and +Mr. Riach could be happy again in their own way, the name of which was +drink. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +I HEAR OF THE “RED FOX” + + +Before we had done cleaning out the round-house, a breeze sprang up from +a little to the east of north. This blew off the rain and brought out +the sun. + +And here I must explain; and the reader would do well to look at a map. +On the day when the fog fell and we ran down Alan’s boat, we had been +running through the Little Minch. At dawn after the battle, we lay +becalmed to the east of the Isle of Canna or between that and Isle +Eriska in the chain of the Long Island. Now to get from there to the +Linnhe Loch, the straight course was through the narrows of the Sound of +Mull. But the captain had no chart; he was afraid to trust his brig so +deep among the islands; and the wind serving well, he preferred to go by +west of Tiree and come up under the southern coast of the great Isle of +Mull. + +All day the breeze held in the same point, and rather freshened than +died down; and towards afternoon, a swell began to set in from round the +outer Hebrides. Our course, to go round about the inner isles, was to +the west of south, so that at first we had this swell upon our beam, and +were much rolled about. But after nightfall, when we had turned the end +of Tiree and began to head more to the east, the sea came right astern. + +Meanwhile, the early part of the day, before the swell came up, was +very pleasant; sailing, as we were, in a bright sunshine and with +many mountainous islands upon different sides. Alan and I sat in the +round-house with the doors open on each side (the wind being straight +astern), and smoked a pipe or two of the captain’s fine tobacco. It was +at this time we heard each other’s stories, which was the more important +to me, as I gained some knowledge of that wild Highland country on which +I was so soon to land. In those days, so close on the back of the great +rebellion, it was needful a man should know what he was doing when he +went upon the heather. + +It was I that showed the example, telling him all my misfortune; which +he heard with great good-nature. Only, when I came to mention that good +friend of mine, Mr. Campbell the minister, Alan fired up and cried out +that he hated all that were of that name. + +“Why,” said I, “he is a man you should be proud to give your hand to.” + +“I know nothing I would help a Campbell to,” says he, “unless it was a +leaden bullet. I would hunt all of that name like blackcocks. If I lay +dying, I would crawl upon my knees to my chamber window for a shot at +one.” + +“Why, Alan,” I cried, “what ails ye at the Campbells?” + +“Well,” says he, “ye ken very well that I am an Appin Stewart, and the +Campbells have long harried and wasted those of my name; ay, and got +lands of us by treachery--but never with the sword,” he cried loudly, +and with the word brought down his fist upon the table. But I paid the +less attention to this, for I knew it was usually said by those who have +the underhand. “There’s more than that,” he continued, “and all in the +same story: lying words, lying papers, tricks fit for a peddler, and the +show of what’s legal over all, to make a man the more angry.” + +“You that are so wasteful of your buttons,” said I, “I can hardly think +you would be a good judge of business.” + +“Ah!” says he, falling again to smiling, “I got my wastefulness from +the same man I got the buttons from; and that was my poor father, Duncan +Stewart, grace be to him! He was the prettiest man of his kindred; and +the best swordsman in the Hielands, David, and that is the same as to +say, in all the world, I should ken, for it was him that taught me. +He was in the Black Watch, when first it was mustered; and, like other +gentlemen privates, had a gillie at his back to carry his firelock for +him on the march. Well, the King, it appears, was wishful to see Hieland +swordsmanship; and my father and three more were chosen out and sent to +London town, to let him see it at the best. So they were had into the +palace and showed the whole art of the sword for two hours at a stretch, +before King George and Queen Carline, and the Butcher Cumberland, and +many more of whom I havenae mind. And when they were through, the King +(for all he was a rank usurper) spoke them fair and gave each man three +guineas in his hand. Now, as they were going out of the palace, they +had a porter’s lodge to go by; and it came in on my father, as he was +perhaps the first private Hieland gentleman that had ever gone by that +door, it was right he should give the poor porter a proper notion of +their quality. So he gives the King’s three guineas into the man’s hand, +as if it was his common custom; the three others that came behind him +did the same; and there they were on the street, never a penny the +better for their pains. Some say it was one, that was the first to fee +the King’s porter; and some say it was another; but the truth of it is, +that it was Duncan Stewart, as I am willing to prove with either sword +or pistol. And that was the father that I had, God rest him!” + +“I think he was not the man to leave you rich,” said I. + +“And that’s true,” said Alan. “He left me my breeks to cover me, and +little besides. And that was how I came to enlist, which was a black +spot upon my character at the best of times, and would still be a sore +job for me if I fell among the red-coats.” + +“What,” cried I, “were you in the English army?” + +“That was I,” said Alan. “But I deserted to the right side at Preston +Pans--and that’s some comfort.” + +I could scarcely share this view: holding desertion under arms for an +unpardonable fault in honour. But for all I was so young, I was wiser +than say my thought. “Dear, dear,” says I, “the punishment is death.” + +“Ay” said he, “if they got hands on me, it would be a short shrift and +a lang tow for Alan! But I have the King of France’s commission in my +pocket, which would aye be some protection.” + +“I misdoubt it much,” said I. + +“I have doubts mysel’,” said Alan drily. + +“And, good heaven, man,” cried I, “you that are a condemned rebel, and a +deserter, and a man of the French King’s--what tempts ye back into this +country? It’s a braving of Providence.” + +“Tut!” says Alan, “I have been back every year since forty-six!” + +“And what brings ye, man?” cried I. + +“Well, ye see, I weary for my friends and country,” said he. “France is +a braw place, nae doubt; but I weary for the heather and the deer. And +then I have bit things that I attend to. Whiles I pick up a few lads +to serve the King of France: recruits, ye see; and that’s aye a +little money. But the heart of the matter is the business of my chief, +Ardshiel.” + +“I thought they called your chief Appin,” said I. + +“Ay, but Ardshiel is the captain of the clan,” said he, which scarcely +cleared my mind. “Ye see, David, he that was all his life so great a +man, and come of the blood and bearing the name of kings, is now brought +down to live in a French town like a poor and private person. He that +had four hundred swords at his whistle, I have seen, with these eyes +of mine, buying butter in the market-place, and taking it home in a +kale-leaf. This is not only a pain but a disgrace to us of his family +and clan. There are the bairns forby, the children and the hope of +Appin, that must be learned their letters and how to hold a sword, in +that far country. Now, the tenants of Appin have to pay a rent to King +George; but their hearts are staunch, they are true to their chief; and +what with love and a bit of pressure, and maybe a threat or two, the +poor folk scrape up a second rent for Ardshiel. Well, David, I’m the +hand that carries it.” And he struck the belt about his body, so that +the guineas rang. + +“Do they pay both?” cried I. + +“Ay, David, both,” says he. + +“What! two rents?” I repeated. + +“Ay, David,” said he. “I told a different tale to yon captain man; but +this is the truth of it. And it’s wonderful to me how little pressure +is needed. But that’s the handiwork of my good kinsman and my father’s +friend, James of the Glens: James Stewart, that is: Ardshiel’s +half-brother. He it is that gets the money in, and does the management.” + +This was the first time I heard the name of that James Stewart, who was +afterwards so famous at the time of his hanging. But I took little heed +at the moment, for all my mind was occupied with the generosity of these +poor Highlanders. + +“I call it noble,” I cried. “I’m a Whig, or little better; but I call it +noble.” + +“Ay” said he, “ye’re a Whig, but ye’re a gentleman; and that’s what does +it. Now, if ye were one of the cursed race of Campbell, ye would gnash +your teeth to hear tell of it. If ye were the Red Fox...” And at that +name, his teeth shut together, and he ceased speaking. I have seen many +a grim face, but never a grimmer than Alan’s when he had named the Red +Fox. + +“And who is the Red Fox?” I asked, daunted, but still curious. + +“Who is he?” cried Alan. “Well, and I’ll tell you that. When the men of +the clans were broken at Culloden, and the good cause went down, and the +horses rode over the fetlocks in the best blood of the north, Ardshiel +had to flee like a poor deer upon the mountains--he and his lady and his +bairns. A sair job we had of it before we got him shipped; and while he +still lay in the heather, the English rogues, that couldnae come at his +life, were striking at his rights. They stripped him of his powers; they +stripped him of his lands; they plucked the weapons from the hands of +his clansmen, that had borne arms for thirty centuries; ay, and the very +clothes off their backs--so that it’s now a sin to wear a tartan plaid, +and a man may be cast into a gaol if he has but a kilt about his legs. +One thing they couldnae kill. That was the love the clansmen bore their +chief. These guineas are the proof of it. And now, in there steps a man, +a Campbell, red-headed Colin of Glenure----” + +“Is that him you call the Red Fox?” said I. + +“Will ye bring me his brush?” cries Alan, fiercely. “Ay, that’s the man. +In he steps, and gets papers from King George, to be so-called King’s +factor on the lands of Appin. And at first he sings small, and is +hail-fellow-well-met with Sheamus--that’s James of the Glens, my +chieftain’s agent. But by-and-by, that came to his ears that I have just +told you; how the poor commons of Appin, the farmers and the crofters +and the boumen, were wringing their very plaids to get a second rent, +and send it over-seas for Ardshiel and his poor bairns. What was it ye +called it, when I told ye?” + +“I called it noble, Alan,” said I. + +“And you little better than a common Whig!” cries Alan. “But when it +came to Colin Roy, the black Campbell blood in him ran wild. He sat +gnashing his teeth at the wine table. What! should a Stewart get a bite +of bread, and him not be able to prevent it? Ah! Red Fox, if ever I +hold you at a gun’s end, the Lord have pity upon ye!” (Alan stopped to +swallow down his anger.) “Well, David, what does he do? He declares all +the farms to let. And, thinks he, in his black heart, ‘I’ll soon get +other tenants that’ll overbid these Stewarts, and Maccolls, and Macrobs’ +(for these are all names in my clan, David); ‘and then,’ thinks he, +‘Ardshiel will have to hold his bonnet on a French roadside.’” + +“Well,” said I, “what followed?” + +Alan laid down his pipe, which he had long since suffered to go out, and +set his two hands upon his knees. + +“Ay,” said he, “ye’ll never guess that! For these same Stewarts, and +Maccolls, and Macrobs (that had two rents to pay, one to King George +by stark force, and one to Ardshiel by natural kindness) offered him a +better price than any Campbell in all broad Scotland; and far he +sent seeking them--as far as to the sides of Clyde and the cross of +Edinburgh--seeking, and fleeching, and begging them to come, where there +was a Stewart to be starved and a red-headed hound of a Campbell to be +pleasured!” + +“Well, Alan,” said I, “that is a strange story, and a fine one, too. And +Whig as I may be, I am glad the man was beaten.” + +“Him beaten?” echoed Alan. “It’s little ye ken of Campbells, and less +of the Red Fox. Him beaten? No: nor will be, till his blood’s on the +hillside! But if the day comes, David man, that I can find time and +leisure for a bit of hunting, there grows not enough heather in all +Scotland to hide him from my vengeance!” + +“Man Alan,” said I, “ye are neither very wise nor very Christian to +blow off so many words of anger. They will do the man ye call the Fox no +harm, and yourself no good. Tell me your tale plainly out. What did he +next?” + +“And that’s a good observe, David,” said Alan. “Troth and indeed, +they will do him no harm; the more’s the pity! And barring that about +Christianity (of which my opinion is quite otherwise, or I would be nae +Christian), I am much of your mind.” + +“Opinion here or opinion there,” said I, “it’s a kent thing that +Christianity forbids revenge.” + +“Ay” said he, “it’s well seen it was a Campbell taught ye! It would be +a convenient world for them and their sort, if there was no such a thing +as a lad and a gun behind a heather bush! But that’s nothing to the +point. This is what he did.” + +“Ay” said I, “come to that.” + +“Well, David,” said he, “since he couldnae be rid of the loyal commons +by fair means, he swore he would be rid of them by foul. Ardshiel was to +starve: that was the thing he aimed at. And since them that fed him in +his exile wouldnae be bought out--right or wrong, he would drive them +out. Therefore he sent for lawyers, and papers, and red-coats to stand +at his back. And the kindly folk of that country must all pack and +tramp, every father’s son out of his father’s house, and out of the +place where he was bred and fed, and played when he was a callant. And +who are to succeed them? Bare-leggit beggars! King George is to whistle +for his rents; he maun dow with less; he can spread his butter thinner: +what cares Red Colin? If he can hurt Ardshiel, he has his wish; if he +can pluck the meat from my chieftain’s table, and the bit toys out of +his children’s hands, he will gang hame singing to Glenure!” + +“Let me have a word,” said I. “Be sure, if they take less rents, be +sure Government has a finger in the pie. It’s not this Campbell’s fault, +man--it’s his orders. And if ye killed this Colin to-morrow, what better +would ye be? There would be another factor in his shoes, as fast as spur +can drive.” + +“Ye’re a good lad in a fight,” said Alan; “but, man! ye have Whig blood +in ye!” + +He spoke kindly enough, but there was so much anger under his contempt +that I thought it was wise to change the conversation. I expressed my +wonder how, with the Highlands covered with troops, and guarded like +a city in a siege, a man in his situation could come and go without +arrest. + +“It’s easier than ye would think,” said Alan. “A bare hillside (ye see) +is like all one road; if there’s a sentry at one place, ye just go by +another. And then the heather’s a great help. And everywhere there are +friends’ houses and friends’ byres and haystacks. And besides, when folk +talk of a country covered with troops, it’s but a kind of a byword at +the best. A soldier covers nae mair of it than his boot-soles. I have +fished a water with a sentry on the other side of the brae, and killed a +fine trout; and I have sat in a heather bush within six feet of another, +and learned a real bonny tune from his whistling. This was it,” said he, +and whistled me the air. + +“And then, besides,” he continued, “it’s no sae bad now as it was in +forty-six. The Hielands are what they call pacified. Small wonder, with +never a gun or a sword left from Cantyre to Cape Wrath, but what tenty[17] +folk have hidden in their thatch! But what I would like to ken, David, +is just how long? Not long, ye would think, with men like Ardshiel in +exile and men like the Red Fox sitting birling the wine and oppressing +the poor at home. But it’s a kittle thing to decide what folk’ll bear, +and what they will not. Or why would Red Colin be riding his horse all +over my poor country of Appin, and never a pretty lad to put a bullet in +him?” + + [17] Careful. + +And with this Alan fell into a muse, and for a long time sate very sad +and silent. + +I will add the rest of what I have to say about my friend, that he +was skilled in all kinds of music, but principally pipe-music; was a +well-considered poet in his own tongue; had read several books both in +French and English; was a dead shot, a good angler, and an excellent +fencer with the small sword as well as with his own particular weapon. +For his faults, they were on his face, and I now knew them all. But +the worst of them, his childish propensity to take offence and to pick +quarrels, he greatly laid aside in my case, out of regard for the battle +of the round-house. But whether it was because I had done well myself, +or because I had been a witness of his own much greater prowess, is more +than I can tell. For though he had a great taste for courage in other +men, yet he admired it most in Alan Breck. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE LOSS OF THE BRIG + + +It was already late at night, and as dark as it ever would be at that +season of the year (and that is to say, it was still pretty bright), +when Hoseason clapped his head into the round-house door. + +“Here,” said he, “come out and see if ye can pilot.” + +“Is this one of your tricks?” asked Alan. + +“Do I look like tricks?” cries the captain. “I have other things to +think of--my brig’s in danger!” + +By the concerned look of his face, and, above all, by the sharp tones in +which he spoke of his brig, it was plain to both of us he was in deadly +earnest; and so Alan and I, with no great fear of treachery, stepped on +deck. + +The sky was clear; it blew hard, and was bitter cold; a great deal of +daylight lingered; and the moon, which was nearly full, shone brightly. +The brig was close hauled, so as to round the southwest corner of the +Island of Mull, the hills of which (and Ben More above them all, with a +wisp of mist upon the top of it) lay full upon the lar-board bow. Though +it was no good point of sailing for the _Covenant_, she tore through +the seas at a great rate, pitching and straining, and pursued by the +westerly swell. + +Altogether it was no such ill night to keep the seas in; and I had begun +to wonder what it was that sat so heavily upon the captain, when the +brig rising suddenly on the top of a high swell, he pointed and cried to +us to look. Away on the lee bow, a thing like a fountain rose out of the +moonlit sea, and immediately after we heard a low sound of roaring. + +“What do ye call that?” asked the captain, gloomily. + +“The sea breaking on a reef,” said Alan. “And now ye ken where it is; +and what better would ye have?” + +“Ay,” said Hoseason, “if it was the only one.” + +And sure enough, just as he spoke there came a second fountain farther +to the south. + +“There!” said Hoseason. “Ye see for yourself. If I had kent of these +reefs, if I had had a chart, or if Shuan had been spared, it’s not sixty +guineas, no, nor six hundred, would have made me risk my brig in sic a +stoneyard! But you, sir, that was to pilot us, have ye never a word?” + +“I’m thinking,” said Alan, “these’ll be what they call the Torran +Rocks.” + +“Are there many of them?” says the captain. + +“Truly, sir, I am nae pilot,” said Alan; “but it sticks in my mind there +are ten miles of them.” + +Mr. Riach and the captain looked at each other. + +“There’s a way through them, I suppose?” said the captain. + +“Doubtless,” said Alan, “but where? But it somehow runs in my mind once +more that it is clearer under the land.” + +“So?” said Hoseason. “We’ll have to haul our wind then, Mr. Riach; we’ll +have to come as near in about the end of Mull as we can take her, sir; +and even then we’ll have the land to kep the wind off us, and that +stoneyard on our lee. Well, we’re in for it now, and may as well crack +on.” + +With that he gave an order to the steersman, and sent Riach to the +foretop. There were only five men on deck, counting the officers; these +being all that were fit (or, at least, both fit and willing) for their +work. So, as I say, it fell to Mr. Riach to go aloft, and he sat there +looking out and hailing the deck with news of all he saw. + +“The sea to the south is thick,” he cried; and then, after a while, “it +does seem clearer in by the land.” + +“Well, sir,” said Hoseason to Alan, “we’ll try your way of it. But I +think I might as well trust to a blind fiddler. Pray God you’re right.” + +“Pray God I am!” says Alan to me. “But where did I hear it? Well, well, +it will be as it must.” + +As we got nearer to the turn of the land the reefs began to be sown here +and there on our very path; and Mr. Riach sometimes cried down to us to +change the course. Sometimes, indeed, none too soon; for one reef was +so close on the brig’s weather board that when a sea burst upon it the +lighter sprays fell upon her deck and wetted us like rain. + +The brightness of the night showed us these perils as clearly as by day, +which was, perhaps, the more alarming. It showed me, too, the face of +the captain as he stood by the steersman, now on one foot, now on the +other, and sometimes blowing in his hands, but still listening and +looking and as steady as steel. Neither he nor Mr. Riach had shown +well in the fighting; but I saw they were brave in their own trade, and +admired them all the more because I found Alan very white. + +“Ochone, David,” says he, “this is no the kind of death I fancy!” + +“What, Alan!” I cried, “you’re not afraid?” + +“No,” said he, wetting his lips, “but you’ll allow, yourself, it’s a +cold ending.” + +By this time, now and then sheering to one side or the other to avoid a +reef, but still hugging the wind and the land, we had got round Iona and +begun to come alongside Mull. The tide at the tail of the land ran very +strong, and threw the brig about. Two hands were put to the helm, and +Hoseason himself would sometimes lend a help; and it was strange to +see three strong men throw their weight upon the tiller, and it (like a +living thing) struggle against and drive them back. This would have +been the greater danger had not the sea been for some while free of +obstacles. Mr. Riach, besides, announced from the top that he saw clear +water ahead. + +“Ye were right,” said Hoseason to Alan. “Ye have saved the brig, sir. +I’ll mind that when we come to clear accounts.” And I believe he not +only meant what he said, but would have done it; so high a place did the +_Covenant_ hold in his affections. + +But this is matter only for conjecture, things having gone otherwise +than he forecast. + +“Keep her away a point,” sings out Mr. Riach. “Reef to windward!” + +And just at the same time the tide caught the brig, and threw the wind +out of her sails. She came round into the wind like a top, and the next +moment struck the reef with such a dunch as threw us all flat upon the +deck, and came near to shake Mr. Riach from his place upon the mast. + +I was on my feet in a minute. The reef on which we had struck was close +in under the southwest end of Mull, off a little isle they call Earraid, +which lay low and black upon the larboard. Sometimes the swell broke +clean over us; sometimes it only ground the poor brig upon the reef, so +that we could hear her beat herself to pieces; and what with the great +noise of the sails, and the singing of the wind, and the flying of the +spray in the moonlight, and the sense of danger, I think my head must +have been partly turned, for I could scarcely understand the things I +saw. + +Presently I observed Mr. Riach and the seamen busy round the skiff, and, +still in the same blank, ran over to assist them; and as soon as I set +my hand to work, my mind came clear again. It was no very easy task, for +the skiff lay amidships and was full of hamper, and the breaking of the +heavier seas continually forced us to give over and hold on; but we all +wrought like horses while we could. + +Meanwhile such of the wounded as could move came clambering out of the +fore-scuttle and began to help; while the rest that lay helpless in +their bunks harrowed me with screaming and begging to be saved. + +The captain took no part. It seemed he was struck stupid. He stood +holding by the shrouds, talking to himself and groaning out aloud +whenever the ship hammered on the rock. His brig was like wife and +child to him; he had looked on, day by day, at the mishandling of poor +Ransome; but when it came to the brig, he seemed to suffer along with +her. + +All the time of our working at the boat, I remember only one other +thing: that I asked Alan, looking across at the shore, what country it +was; and he answered, it was the worst possible for him, for it was a +land of the Campbells. + +We had one of the wounded men told off to keep a watch upon the seas and +cry us warning. Well, we had the boat about ready to be launched, when +this man sang out pretty shrill: “For God’s sake, hold on!” We knew +by his tone that it was something more than ordinary; and sure enough, +there followed a sea so huge that it lifted the brig right up and canted +her over on her beam. Whether the cry came too late, or my hold was too +weak, I know not; but at the sudden tilting of the ship I was cast clean +over the bulwarks into the sea. + +I went down, and drank my fill, and then came up, and got a blink of the +moon, and then down again. They say a man sinks a third time for good. I +cannot be made like other folk, then; for I would not like to write how +often I went down, or how often I came up again. All the while, I was +being hurled along, and beaten upon and choked, and then swallowed +whole; and the thing was so distracting to my wits, that I was neither +sorry nor afraid. + +Presently, I found I was holding to a spar, which helped me somewhat. +And then all of a sudden I was in quiet water, and began to come to +myself. + +It was the spare yard I had got hold of, and I was amazed to see how far +I had travelled from the brig. I hailed her, indeed; but it was plain +she was already out of cry. She was still holding together; but whether +or not they had yet launched the boat, I was too far off and too low +down to see. + +While I was hailing the brig, I spied a tract of water lying between +us where no great waves came, but which yet boiled white all over and +bristled in the moon with rings and bubbles. Sometimes the whole tract +swung to one side, like the tail of a live serpent; sometimes, for a +glimpse, it would all disappear and then boil up again. What it was I +had no guess, which for the time increased my fear of it; but I now know +it must have been the roost or tide race, which had carried me away so +fast and tumbled me about so cruelly, and at last, as if tired of that +play, had flung out me and the spare yard upon its landward margin. + +I now lay quite becalmed, and began to feel that a man can die of cold +as well as of drowning. The shores of Earraid were close in; I could see +in the moonlight the dots of heather and the sparkling of the mica in +the rocks. + +“Well,” thought I to myself, “if I cannot get as far as that, it’s +strange!” + +I had no skill of swimming, Essen Water being small in our +neighbourhood; but when I laid hold upon the yard with both arms, and +kicked out with both feet, I soon begun to find that I was moving. Hard +work it was, and mortally slow; but in about an hour of kicking +and splashing, I had got well in between the points of a sandy bay +surrounded by low hills. + +The sea was here quite quiet; there was no sound of any surf; the moon +shone clear; and I thought in my heart I had never seen a place so +desert and desolate. But it was dry land; and when at last it grew so +shallow that I could leave the yard and wade ashore upon my feet, I +cannot tell if I was more tired or more grateful. Both, at least, I was: +tired as I never was before that night; and grateful to God as I trust I +have been often, though never with more cause. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE ISLET + + +With my stepping ashore I began the most unhappy part of my adventures. +It was half-past twelve in the morning, and though the wind was broken +by the land, it was a cold night. I dared not sit down (for I thought +I should have frozen), but took off my shoes and walked to and fro upon +the sand, bare-foot, and beating my breast with infinite weariness. +There was no sound of man or cattle; not a cock crew, though it was +about the hour of their first waking; only the surf broke outside in the +distance, which put me in mind of my perils and those of my friend. +To walk by the sea at that hour of the morning, and in a place so +desert-like and lonesome, struck me with a kind of fear. + +As soon as the day began to break I put on my shoes and climbed a +hill--the ruggedest scramble I ever undertook--falling, the whole way, +between big blocks of granite, or leaping from one to another. When I +got to the top the dawn was come. There was no sign of the brig, which +must have lifted from the reef and sunk. The boat, too, was nowhere to +be seen. There was never a sail upon the ocean; and in what I could see +of the land was neither house nor man. + +I was afraid to think what had befallen my shipmates, and afraid to look +longer at so empty a scene. What with my wet clothes and weariness, and +my belly that now began to ache with hunger, I had enough to trouble +me without that. So I set off eastward along the south coast, hoping to +find a house where I might warm myself, and perhaps get news of those I +had lost. And at the worst, I considered the sun would soon rise and dry +my clothes. + +After a little, my way was stopped by a creek or inlet of the sea, which +seemed to run pretty deep into the land; and as I had no means to get +across, I must needs change my direction to go about the end of it. It +was still the roughest kind of walking; indeed the whole, not only of +Earraid, but of the neighbouring part of Mull (which they call the Ross) +is nothing but a jumble of granite rocks with heather in among. At first +the creek kept narrowing as I had looked to see; but presently to my +surprise it began to widen out again. At this I scratched my head, +but had still no notion of the truth: until at last I came to a rising +ground, and it burst upon me all in a moment that I was cast upon a +little barren isle, and cut off on every side by the salt seas. + +Instead of the sun rising to dry me, it came on to rain, with a thick +mist; so that my case was lamentable. + +I stood in the rain, and shivered, and wondered what to do, till it +occurred to me that perhaps the creek was fordable. Back I went to the +narrowest point and waded in. But not three yards from shore, I plumped +in head over ears; and if ever I was heard of more, it was rather by +God’s grace than my own prudence. I was no wetter (for that could hardly +be), but I was all the colder for this mishap; and having lost another +hope was the more unhappy. + +And now, all at once, the yard came in my head. What had carried me +through the roost would surely serve me to cross this little quiet creek +in safety. With that I set off, undaunted, across the top of the isle, +to fetch and carry it back. It was a weary tramp in all ways, and if +hope had not buoyed me up, I must have cast myself down and given up. +Whether with the sea salt, or because I was growing fevered, I was +distressed with thirst, and had to stop, as I went, and drink the peaty +water out of the hags. + +I came to the bay at last, more dead than alive; and at the first +glance, I thought the yard was something farther out than when I left +it. In I went, for the third time, into the sea. The sand was smooth +and firm, and shelved gradually down, so that I could wade out till the +water was almost to my neck and the little waves splashed into my face. +But at that depth my feet began to leave me, and I durst venture in no +farther. As for the yard, I saw it bobbing very quietly some twenty feet +beyond. + +I had borne up well until this last disappointment; but at that I came +ashore, and flung myself down upon the sands and wept. + +The time I spent upon the island is still so horrible a thought to me, +that I must pass it lightly over. In all the books I have read of people +cast away, they had either their pockets full of tools, or a chest of +things would be thrown upon the beach along with them, as if on purpose. +My case was very different. I had nothing in my pockets but money and +Alan’s silver button; and being inland bred, I was as much short of +knowledge as of means. + +I knew indeed that shell-fish were counted good to eat; and among the +rocks of the isle I found a great plenty of limpets, which at first I +could scarcely strike from their places, not knowing quickness to be +needful. There were, besides, some of the little shells that we call +buckies; I think periwinkle is the English name. Of these two I made my +whole diet, devouring them cold and raw as I found them; and so hungry +was I, that at first they seemed to me delicious. + +Perhaps they were out of season, or perhaps there was something wrong +in the sea about my island. But at least I had no sooner eaten my first +meal than I was seized with giddiness and retching, and lay for a long +time no better than dead. A second trial of the same food (indeed I had +no other) did better with me, and revived my strength. But as long as +I was on the island, I never knew what to expect when I had eaten; +sometimes all was well, and sometimes I was thrown into a miserable +sickness; nor could I ever distinguish what particular fish it was that +hurt me. + +All day it streamed rain; the island ran like a sop, there was no dry +spot to be found; and when I lay down that night, between two boulders +that made a kind of roof, my feet were in a bog. + +The second day I crossed the island to all sides. There was no one part +of it better than another; it was all desolate and rocky; nothing living +on it but game birds which I lacked the means to kill, and the gulls +which haunted the outlying rocks in a prodigious number. But the creek, +or strait, that cut off the isle from the main-land of the Ross, opened +out on the north into a bay, and the bay again opened into the Sound of +Iona; and it was the neighbourhood of this place that I chose to be my +home; though if I had thought upon the very name of home in such a spot, +I must have burst out weeping. + +I had good reasons for my choice. There was in this part of the isle a +little hut of a house like a pig’s hut, where fishers used to sleep when +they came there upon their business; but the turf roof of it had fallen +entirely in; so that the hut was of no use to me, and gave me less +shelter than my rocks. What was more important, the shell-fish on which +I lived grew there in great plenty; when the tide was out I could gather +a peck at a time: and this was doubtless a convenience. But the other +reason went deeper. I had become in no way used to the horrid solitude +of the isle, but still looked round me on all sides (like a man that +was hunted), between fear and hope that I might see some human creature +coming. Now, from a little up the hillside over the bay, I could catch a +sight of the great, ancient church and the roofs of the people’s houses +in Iona. And on the other hand, over the low country of the Ross, I saw +smoke go up, morning and evening, as if from a homestead in a hollow of +the land. + +I used to watch this smoke, when I was wet and cold, and had my head +half turned with loneliness; and think of the fireside and the +company, till my heart burned. It was the same with the roofs of Iona. +Altogether, this sight I had of men’s homes and comfortable lives, +although it put a point on my own sufferings, yet it kept hope alive, +and helped me to eat my raw shell-fish (which had soon grown to be a +disgust), and saved me from the sense of horror I had whenever I was +quite alone with dead rocks, and fowls, and the rain, and the cold sea. + +I say it kept hope alive; and indeed it seemed impossible that I should +be left to die on the shores of my own country, and within view of a +church-tower and the smoke of men’s houses. But the second day passed; +and though as long as the light lasted I kept a bright look-out for +boats on the Sound or men passing on the Ross, no help came near me. It +still rained, and I turned in to sleep, as wet as ever, and with a cruel +sore throat, but a little comforted, perhaps, by having said good-night +to my next neighbours, the people of Iona. + +Charles the Second declared a man could stay outdoors more days in the +year in the climate of England than in any other. This was very like a +king, with a palace at his back and changes of dry clothes. But he must +have had better luck on his flight from Worcester than I had on that +miserable isle. It was the height of the summer; yet it rained for more +than twenty-four hours, and did not clear until the afternoon of the +third day. + +This was the day of incidents. In the morning I saw a red deer, a buck +with a fine spread of antlers, standing in the rain on the top of the +island; but he had scarce seen me rise from under my rock, before +he trotted off upon the other side. I supposed he must have swum the +strait; though what should bring any creature to Earraid, was more than +I could fancy. + +A little after, as I was jumping about after my limpets, I was startled +by a guinea-piece, which fell upon a rock in front of me and glanced off +into the sea. When the sailors gave me my money again, they kept back +not only about a third of the whole sum, but my father’s leather purse; +so that from that day out, I carried my gold loose in a pocket with a +button. I now saw there must be a hole, and clapped my hand to the place +in a great hurry. But this was to lock the stable door after the steed +was stolen. I had left the shore at Queensferry with near on fifty +pounds; now I found no more than two guinea-pieces and a silver +shilling. + +It is true I picked up a third guinea a little after, where it lay +shining on a piece of turf. That made a fortune of three pounds and four +shillings, English money, for a lad, the rightful heir of an estate, and +now starving on an isle at the extreme end of the wild Highlands. + +This state of my affairs dashed me still further; and, indeed my plight +on that third morning was truly pitiful. My clothes were beginning to +rot; my stockings in particular were quite worn through, so that my +shanks went naked; my hands had grown quite soft with the continual +soaking; my throat was very sore, my strength had much abated, and my +heart so turned against the horrid stuff I was condemned to eat, that +the very sight of it came near to sicken me. + +And yet the worst was not yet come. + +There is a pretty high rock on the northwest of Earraid, which (because +it had a flat top and overlooked the Sound) I was much in the habit of +frequenting; not that ever I stayed in one place, save when asleep, my +misery giving me no rest. Indeed, I wore myself down with continual and +aimless goings and comings in the rain. + +As soon, however, as the sun came out, I lay down on the top of that +rock to dry myself. The comfort of the sunshine is a thing I cannot +tell. It set me thinking hopefully of my deliverance, of which I had +begun to despair; and I scanned the sea and the Ross with a fresh +interest. On the south of my rock, a part of the island jutted out and +hid the open ocean, so that a boat could thus come quite near me upon +that side, and I be none the wiser. + +Well, all of a sudden, a coble with a brown sail and a pair of fishers +aboard of it, came flying round that corner of the isle, bound for Iona. +I shouted out, and then fell on my knees on the rock and reached up my +hands and prayed to them. They were near enough to hear--I could even +see the colour of their hair; and there was no doubt but they observed +me, for they cried out in the Gaelic tongue, and laughed. But the boat +never turned aside, and flew on, right before my eyes, for Iona. + +I could not believe such wickedness, and ran along the shore from rock +to rock, crying on them piteously even after they were out of reach +of my voice, I still cried and waved to them; and when they were quite +gone, I thought my heart would have burst. All the time of my troubles +I wept only twice. Once, when I could not reach the yard, and now, the +second time, when these fishers turned a deaf ear to my cries. But this +time I wept and roared like a wicked child, tearing up the turf with +my nails, and grinding my face in the earth. If a wish would kill men, +those two fishers would never have seen morning, and I should likely +have died upon my island. + +When I was a little over my anger, I must eat again, but with such +loathing of the mess as I could now scarce control. Sure enough, I +should have done as well to fast, for my fishes poisoned me again. I had +all my first pains; my throat was so sore I could scarce swallow; I had +a fit of strong shuddering, which clucked my teeth together; and there +came on me that dreadful sense of illness, which we have no name for +either in Scotch or English. I thought I should have died, and made my +peace with God, forgiving all men, even my uncle and the fishers; and as +soon as I had thus made up my mind to the worst, clearness came upon me; +I observed the night was falling dry; my clothes were dried a good deal; +truly, I was in a better case than ever before, since I had landed on +the isle; and so I got to sleep at last, with a thought of gratitude. + +The next day (which was the fourth of this horrible life of mine) I +found my bodily strength run very low. But the sun shone, the air was +sweet, and what I managed to eat of the shell-fish agreed well with me +and revived my courage. + +I was scarce back on my rock (where I went always the first thing after +I had eaten) before I observed a boat coming down the Sound, and with +her head, as I thought, in my direction. + +I began at once to hope and fear exceedingly; for I thought these men +might have thought better of their cruelty and be coming back to my +assistance. But another disappointment, such as yesterday’s, was more +than I could bear. I turned my back, accordingly, upon the sea, and +did not look again till I had counted many hundreds. The boat was still +heading for the island. The next time I counted the full thousand, as +slowly as I could, my heart beating so as to hurt me. And then it was +out of all question. She was coming straight to Earraid! + +I could no longer hold myself back, but ran to the seaside and out, +from one rock to another, as far as I could go. It is a marvel I was not +drowned; for when I was brought to a stand at last, my legs shook under +me, and my mouth was so dry, I must wet it with the sea-water before I +was able to shout. + +All this time the boat was coming on; and now I was able to perceive +it was the same boat and the same two men as yesterday. This I knew by +their hair, which the one had of a bright yellow and the other black. +But now there was a third man along with them, who looked to be of a +better class. + +As soon as they were come within easy speech, they let down their sail +and lay quiet. In spite of my supplications, they drew no nearer in, and +what frightened me most of all, the new man tee-hee’d with laughter as +he talked and looked at me. + +Then he stood up in the boat and addressed me a long while, speaking +fast and with many wavings of his hand. I told him I had no Gaelic; and +at this he became very angry, and I began to suspect he thought he was +talking English. Listening very close, I caught the word “whateffer” + several times; but all the rest was Gaelic and might have been Greek and +Hebrew for me. + +“Whatever,” said I, to show him I had caught a word. + +“Yes, yes--yes, yes,” says he, and then he looked at the other men, as +much as to say, “I told you I spoke English,” and began again as hard as +ever in the Gaelic. + +This time I picked out another word, “tide.” Then I had a flash of hope. +I remembered he was always waving his hand towards the mainland of the +Ross. + +“Do you mean when the tide is out--?” I cried, and could not finish. + +“Yes, yes,” said he. “Tide.” + +At that I turned tail upon their boat (where my adviser had once more +begun to tee-hee with laughter), leaped back the way I had come, from +one stone to another, and set off running across the isle as I had never +run before. In about half an hour I came out upon the shores of the +creek; and, sure enough, it was shrunk into a little trickle of water, +through which I dashed, not above my knees, and landed with a shout on +the main island. + +A sea-bred boy would not have stayed a day on Earraid; which is only +what they call a tidal islet, and except in the bottom of the neaps, can +be entered and left twice in every twenty-four hours, either dry-shod, +or at the most by wading. Even I, who had the tide going out and in +before me in the bay, and even watched for the ebbs, the better to get +my shellfish--even I (I say) if I had sat down to think, instead of +raging at my fate, must have soon guessed the secret, and got free. It +was no wonder the fishers had not understood me. The wonder was rather +that they had ever guessed my pitiful illusion, and taken the trouble to +come back. I had starved with cold and hunger on that island for close +upon one hundred hours. But for the fishers, I might have left my bones +there, in pure folly. And even as it was, I had paid for it pretty dear, +not only in past sufferings, but in my present case; being clothed like +a beggar-man, scarce able to walk, and in great pain of my sore throat. + +I have seen wicked men and fools, a great many of both; and I believe +they both get paid in the end; but the fools first. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL + + +The Ross of Mull, which I had now got upon, was rugged and trackless, +like the isle I had just left; being all bog, and brier, and big stone. +There may be roads for them that know that country well; but for my part +I had no better guide than my own nose, and no other landmark than Ben +More. + +I aimed as well as I could for the smoke I had seen so often from the +island; and with all my great weariness and the difficulty of the way +came upon the house in the bottom of a little hollow about five or +six at night. It was low and longish, roofed with turf and built of +unmortared stones; and on a mound in front of it, an old gentleman sat +smoking his pipe in the sun. + +With what little English he had, he gave me to understand that my +shipmates had got safe ashore, and had broken bread in that very house +on the day after. + +“Was there one,” I asked, “dressed like a gentleman?” + +He said they all wore rough great-coats; but to be sure, the first of +them, the one that came alone, wore breeches and stockings, while the +rest had sailors’ trousers. + +“Ah,” said I, “and he would have a feathered hat?” + +He told me, no, that he was bareheaded like myself. + +At first I thought Alan might have lost his hat; and then the rain came +in my mind, and I judged it more likely he had it out of harm’s way +under his great-coat. This set me smiling, partly because my friend was +safe, partly to think of his vanity in dress. + +And then the old gentleman clapped his hand to his brow, and cried out +that I must be the lad with the silver button. + +“Why, yes!” said I, in some wonder. + +“Well, then,” said the old gentleman, “I have a word for you, that you +are to follow your friend to his country, by Torosay.” + +He then asked me how I had fared, and I told him my tale. A +south-country man would certainly have laughed; but this old gentleman +(I call him so because of his manners, for his clothes were dropping off +his back) heard me all through with nothing but gravity and pity. When I +had done, he took me by the hand, led me into his hut (it was no better) +and presented me before his wife, as if she had been the Queen and I a +duke. + +The good woman set oat-bread before me and a cold grouse, patting my +shoulder and smiling to me all the time, for she had no English; and the +old gentleman (not to be behind) brewed me a strong punch out of their +country spirit. All the while I was eating, and after that when I was +drinking the punch, I could scarce come to believe in my good fortune; +and the house, though it was thick with the peat-smoke and as full of +holes as a colander, seemed like a palace. + +The punch threw me in a strong sweat and a deep slumber; the good people +let me lie; and it was near noon of the next day before I took the road, +my throat already easier and my spirits quite restored by good fare and +good news. The old gentleman, although I pressed him hard, would take no +money, and gave me an old bonnet for my head; though I am free to own I +was no sooner out of view of the house than I very jealously washed this +gift of his in a wayside fountain. + +Thought I to myself: “If these are the wild Highlanders, I could wish my +own folk wilder.” + +I not only started late, but I must have wandered nearly half the time. +True, I met plenty of people, grubbing in little miserable fields that +would not keep a cat, or herding little kine about the bigness of asses. +The Highland dress being forbidden by law since the rebellion, and the +people condemned to the Lowland habit, which they much disliked, it was +strange to see the variety of their array. Some went bare, only for a +hanging cloak or great-coat, and carried their trousers on their backs +like a useless burthen: some had made an imitation of the tartan with +little parti-coloured stripes patched together like an old wife’s quilt; +others, again, still wore the Highland philabeg, but by putting a few +stitches between the legs transformed it into a pair of trousers like +a Dutchman’s. All those makeshifts were condemned and punished, for the +law was harshly applied, in hopes to break up the clan spirit; but in +that out-of-the-way, sea-bound isle, there were few to make remarks and +fewer to tell tales. + +They seemed in great poverty; which was no doubt natural, now that +rapine was put down, and the chiefs kept no longer an open house; +and the roads (even such a wandering, country by-track as the one +I followed) were infested with beggars. And here again I marked +a difference from my own part of the country. For our Lowland +beggars--even the gownsmen themselves, who beg by patent--had a louting, +flattering way with them, and if you gave them a plaek and asked change, +would very civilly return you a boddle. But these Highland beggars stood +on their dignity, asked alms only to buy snuff (by their account) and +would give no change. + +To be sure, this was no concern of mine, except in so far as it +entertained me by the way. What was much more to the purpose, few had +any English, and these few (unless they were of the brotherhood of +beggars) not very anxious to place it at my service. I knew Torosay +to be my destination, and repeated the name to them and pointed; but +instead of simply pointing in reply, they would give me a screed of the +Gaelic that set me foolish; so it was small wonder if I went out of my +road as often as I stayed in it. + +At last, about eight at night, and already very weary, I came to a lone +house, where I asked admittance, and was refused, until I bethought +me of the power of money in so poor a country, and held up one of my +guineas in my finger and thumb. Thereupon, the man of the house, who had +hitherto pretended to have no English, and driven me from his door by +signals, suddenly began to speak as clearly as was needful, and agreed +for five shillings to give me a night’s lodging and guide me the next +day to Torosay. + +I slept uneasily that night, fearing I should be robbed; but I might +have spared myself the pain; for my host was no robber, only miserably +poor and a great cheat. He was not alone in his poverty; for the next +morning, we must go five miles about to the house of what he called a +rich man to have one of my guineas changed. This was perhaps a rich man +for Mull; he would have scarce been thought so in the south; for it +took all he had--the whole house was turned upside down, and a neighbour +brought under contribution, before he could scrape together twenty +shillings in silver. The odd shilling he kept for himself, protesting he +could ill afford to have so great a sum of money lying “locked up.” For +all that he was very courteous and well spoken, made us both sit down +with his family to dinner, and brewed punch in a fine china bowl, over +which my rascal guide grew so merry that he refused to start. + +I was for getting angry, and appealed to the rich man (Hector Maclean +was his name), who had been a witness to our bargain and to my payment +of the five shillings. But Maclean had taken his share of the punch, +and vowed that no gentleman should leave his table after the bowl was +brewed; so there was nothing for it but to sit and hear Jacobite toasts +and Gaelic songs, till all were tipsy and staggered off to the bed or +the barn for their night’s rest. + +Next day (the fourth of my travels) we were up before five upon the +clock; but my rascal guide got to the bottle at once, and it was three +hours before I had him clear of the house, and then (as you shall hear) +only for a worse disappointment. + +As long as we went down a heathery valley that lay before Mr. Maclean’s +house, all went well; only my guide looked constantly over his shoulder, +and when I asked him the cause, only grinned at me. No sooner, however, +had we crossed the back of a hill, and got out of sight of the house +windows, than he told me Torosay lay right in front, and that a hill-top +(which he pointed out) was my best landmark. + +“I care very little for that,” said I, “since you are going with me.” + +The impudent cheat answered me in the Gaelic that he had no English. + +“My fine fellow,” I said, “I know very well your English comes and goes. +Tell me what will bring it back? Is it more money you wish?” + +“Five shillings mair,” said he, “and hersel’ will bring ye there.” + +I reflected awhile and then offered him two, which he accepted greedily, +and insisted on having in his hands at once “for luck,” as he said, but +I think it was rather for my misfortune. + +The two shillings carried him not quite as many miles; at the end of +which distance, he sat down upon the wayside and took off his brogues +from his feet, like a man about to rest. + +I was now red-hot. “Ha!” said I, “have you no more English?” + +He said impudently, “No.” + +At that I boiled over, and lifted my hand to strike him; and he, drawing +a knife from his rags, squatted back and grinned at me like a wildcat. +At that, forgetting everything but my anger, I ran in upon him, put +aside his knife with my left, and struck him in the mouth with the +right. I was a strong lad and very angry, and he but a little man; and +he went down before me heavily. By good luck, his knife flew out of his +hand as he fell. + +I picked up both that and his brogues, wished him a good morning, and +set off upon my way, leaving him barefoot and disarmed. I chuckled to +myself as I went, being sure I was done with that rogue, for a variety +of reasons. First, he knew he could have no more of my money; next, the +brogues were worth in that country only a few pence; and, lastly, the +knife, which was really a dagger, it was against the law for him to +carry. + +In about half an hour of walk, I overtook a great, ragged man, moving +pretty fast but feeling before him with a staff. He was quite blind, and +told me he was a catechist, which should have put me at my ease. But +his face went against me; it seemed dark and dangerous and secret; and +presently, as we began to go on alongside, I saw the steel butt of a +pistol sticking from under the flap of his coat-pocket. To carry such a +thing meant a fine of fifteen pounds sterling upon a first offence, and +transportation to the colonies upon a second. Nor could I quite see why +a religious teacher should go armed, or what a blind man could be doing +with a pistol. + +I told him about my guide, for I was proud of what I had done, and my +vanity for once got the heels of my prudence. At the mention of the +five shillings he cried out so loud that I made up my mind I should say +nothing of the other two, and was glad he could not see my blushes. + +“Was it too much?” I asked, a little faltering. + +“Too much!” cries he. “Why, I will guide you to Torosay myself for a +dram of brandy. And give you the great pleasure of my company (me that +is a man of some learning) in the bargain.” + +I said I did not see how a blind man could be a guide; but at that he +laughed aloud, and said his stick was eyes enough for an eagle. + +“In the Isle of Mull, at least,” says he, “where I know every stone and +heather-bush by mark of head. See, now,” he said, striking right and +left, as if to make sure, “down there a burn is running; and at the head +of it there stands a bit of a small hill with a stone cocked upon the +top of that; and it’s hard at the foot of the hill, that the way runs by +to Torosay; and the way here, being for droves, is plainly trodden, and +will show grassy through the heather.” + +I had to own he was right in every feature, and told my wonder. + +“Ha!” says he, “that’s nothing. Would ye believe me now, that before +the Act came out, and when there were weepons in this country, I could +shoot? Ay, could I!” cries he, and then with a leer: “If ye had such a +thing as a pistol here to try with, I would show ye how it’s done.” + +I told him I had nothing of the sort, and gave him a wider berth. If +he had known, his pistol stuck at that time quite plainly out of his +pocket, and I could see the sun twinkle on the steel of the butt. But +by the better luck for me, he knew nothing, thought all was covered, and +lied on in the dark. + +He then began to question me cunningly, where I came from, whether I +was rich, whether I could change a five-shilling piece for him (which +he declared he had that moment in his sporran), and all the time he kept +edging up to me and I avoiding him. We were now upon a sort of green +cattle-track which crossed the hills towards Torosay, and we kept +changing sides upon that like dancers in a reel. I had so plainly the +upper-hand that my spirits rose, and indeed I took a pleasure in this +game of blindman’s buff; but the catechist grew angrier and angrier, +and at last began to swear in Gaelic and to strike for my legs with his +staff. + +Then I told him that, sure enough, I had a pistol in my pocket as well +as he, and if he did not strike across the hill due south I would even +blow his brains out. + +He became at once very polite, and after trying to soften me for some +time, but quite in vain, he cursed me once more in Gaelic and took +himself off. I watched him striding along, through bog and brier, +tapping with his stick, until he turned the end of a hill and +disappeared in the next hollow. Then I struck on again for Torosay, much +better pleased to be alone than to travel with that man of learning. +This was an unlucky day; and these two, of whom I had just rid myself, +one after the other, were the two worst men I met with in the Highlands. + +At Torosay, on the Sound of Mull and looking over to the mainland +of Morven, there was an inn with an innkeeper, who was a Maclean, it +appeared, of a very high family; for to keep an inn is thought even more +genteel in the Highlands than it is with us, perhaps as partaking of +hospitality, or perhaps because the trade is idle and drunken. He spoke +good English, and finding me to be something of a scholar, tried me +first in French, where he easily beat me, and then in the Latin, in +which I don’t know which of us did best. This pleasant rivalry put us at +once upon friendly terms; and I sat up and drank punch with him (or to +be more correct, sat up and watched him drink it), until he was so tipsy +that he wept upon my shoulder. + +I tried him, as if by accident, with a sight of Alan’s button; but it +was plain he had never seen or heard of it. Indeed, he bore some grudge +against the family and friends of Ardshiel, and before he was drunk +he read me a lampoon, in very good Latin, but with a very ill meaning, +which he had made in elegiac verses upon a person of that house. + +When I told him of my catechist, he shook his head, and said I was lucky +to have got clear off. “That is a very dangerous man,” he said; “Duncan +Mackiegh is his name; he can shoot by the ear at several yards, and has +been often accused of highway robberies, and once of murder.” + +“The cream of it is,” says I, “that he called himself a catechist.” + +“And why should he not?” says he, “when that is what he is. It was +Maclean of Duart gave it to him because he was blind. But perhaps it was +a peety,” says my host, “for he is always on the road, going from +one place to another to hear the young folk say their religion; and, +doubtless, that is a great temptation to the poor man.” + +At last, when my landlord could drink no more, he showed me to a bed, +and I lay down in very good spirits; having travelled the greater part +of that big and crooked Island of Mull, from Earraid to Torosay, fifty +miles as the crow flies, and (with my wanderings) much nearer a hundred, +in four days and with little fatigue. Indeed I was by far in better +heart and health of body at the end of that long tramp than I had been +at the beginning. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN + + +There is a regular ferry from Torosay to Kinlochaline on the mainland. +Both shores of the Sound are in the country of the strong clan of the +Macleans, and the people that passed the ferry with me were almost all +of that clan. The skipper of the boat, on the other hand, was called +Neil Roy Macrob; and since Macrob was one of the names of Alan’s +clansmen, and Alan himself had sent me to that ferry, I was eager to +come to private speech of Neil Roy. + +In the crowded boat this was of course impossible, and the passage was +a very slow affair. There was no wind, and as the boat was wretchedly +equipped, we could pull but two oars on one side, and one on the other. +The men gave way, however, with a good will, the passengers taking +spells to help them, and the whole company giving the time in +Gaelic boat-songs. And what with the songs, and the sea-air, and the +good-nature and spirit of all concerned, and the bright weather, the +passage was a pretty thing to have seen. + +But there was one melancholy part. In the mouth of Loch Aline we found +a great sea-going ship at anchor; and this I supposed at first to be one +of the King’s cruisers which were kept along that coast, both summer +and winter, to prevent communication with the French. As we got a little +nearer, it became plain she was a ship of merchandise; and what still +more puzzled me, not only her decks, but the sea-beach also, were quite +black with people, and skiffs were continually plying to and fro between +them. Yet nearer, and there began to come to our ears a great sound +of mourning, the people on board and those on the shore crying and +lamenting one to another so as to pierce the heart. + +Then I understood this was an emigrant ship bound for the American +colonies. + +We put the ferry-boat alongside, and the exiles leaned over the +bulwarks, weeping and reaching out their hands to my fellow-passengers, +among whom they counted some near friends. How long this might have gone +on I do not know, for they seemed to have no sense of time: but at last +the captain of the ship, who seemed near beside himself (and no great +wonder) in the midst of this crying and confusion, came to the side and +begged us to depart. + +Thereupon Neil sheered off; and the chief singer in our boat struck into +a melancholy air, which was presently taken up both by the emigrants and +their friends upon the beach, so that it sounded from all sides like a +lament for the dying. I saw the tears run down the cheeks of the men and +women in the boat, even as they bent at the oars; and the circumstances +and the music of the song (which is one called “Lochaber no more”) were +highly affecting even to myself. + +At Kinlochaline I got Neil Roy upon one side on the beach, and said I +made sure he was one of Appin’s men. + +“And what for no?” said he. + +“I am seeking somebody,” said I; “and it comes in my mind that you will +have news of him. Alan Breck Stewart is his name.” And very foolishly, +instead of showing him the button, I sought to pass a shilling in his +hand. + +At this he drew back. “I am very much affronted,” he said; “and this is +not the way that one shentleman should behave to another at all. The man +you ask for is in France; but if he was in my sporran,” says he, “and +your belly full of shillings, I would not hurt a hair upon his body.” + +I saw I had gone the wrong way to work, and without wasting time upon +apologies, showed him the button lying in the hollow of my palm. + +“Aweel, aweel,” said Neil; “and I think ye might have begun with that +end of the stick, whatever! But if ye are the lad with the silver +button, all is well, and I have the word to see that ye come safe. But +if ye will pardon me to speak plainly,” says he, “there is a name that +you should never take into your mouth, and that is the name of Alan +Breck; and there is a thing that ye would never do, and that is to offer +your dirty money to a Hieland shentleman.” + +It was not very easy to apologise; for I could scarce tell him (what was +the truth) that I had never dreamed he would set up to be a gentleman +until he told me so. Neil on his part had no wish to prolong his +dealings with me, only to fulfil his orders and be done with it; and +he made haste to give me my route. This was to lie the night in +Kinlochaline in the public inn; to cross Morven the next day to Ardgour, +and lie the night in the house of one John of the Claymore, who was +warned that I might come; the third day, to be set across one loch at +Corran and another at Balachulish, and then ask my way to the house of +James of the Glens, at Aucharn in Duror of Appin. There was a good deal +of ferrying, as you hear; the sea in all this part running deep into the +mountains and winding about their roots. It makes the country strong to +hold and difficult to travel, but full of prodigious wild and dreadful +prospects. + +I had some other advice from Neil: to speak with no one by the way, to +avoid Whigs, Campbells, and the “red-soldiers;” to leave the road and +lie in a bush if I saw any of the latter coming, “for it was never +chancy to meet in with them;” and in brief, to conduct myself like a +robber or a Jacobite agent, as perhaps Neil thought me. + +The inn at Kinlochaline was the most beggarly vile place that ever pigs +were styed in, full of smoke, vermin, and silent Highlanders. I was not +only discontented with my lodging, but with myself for my mismanagement +of Neil, and thought I could hardly be worse off. But very wrongly, as I +was soon to see; for I had not been half an hour at the inn (standing in +the door most of the time, to ease my eyes from the peat smoke) when a +thunderstorm came close by, the springs broke in a little hill on which +the inn stood, and one end of the house became a running water. Places +of public entertainment were bad enough all over Scotland in those days; +yet it was a wonder to myself, when I had to go from the fireside to the +bed in which I slept, wading over the shoes. + +Early in my next day’s journey I overtook a little, stout, solemn man, +walking very slowly with his toes turned out, sometimes reading in +a book and sometimes marking the place with his finger, and dressed +decently and plainly in something of a clerical style. + +This I found to be another catechist, but of a different order from the +blind man of Mull: being indeed one of those sent out by the Edinburgh +Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge, to evangelise the more +savage places of the Highlands. His name was Henderland; he spoke with +the broad south-country tongue, which I was beginning to weary for the +sound of; and besides common countryship, we soon found we had a +more particular bond of interest. For my good friend, the minister of +Essendean, had translated into the Gaelic in his by-time a number of +hymns and pious books which Henderland used in his work, and held in +great esteem. Indeed, it was one of these he was carrying and reading +when we met. + +We fell in company at once, our ways lying together as far as to +Kingairloch. As we went, he stopped and spoke with all the wayfarers +and workers that we met or passed; and though of course I could not tell +what they discoursed about, yet I judged Mr. Henderland must be well +liked in the countryside, for I observed many of them to bring out their +mulls and share a pinch of snuff with him. + +I told him as far in my affairs as I judged wise; as far, that is, +as they were none of Alan’s; and gave Balachulish as the place I was +travelling to, to meet a friend; for I thought Aucharn, or even Duror, +would be too particular, and might put him on the scent. + +On his part, he told me much of his work and the people he worked among, +the hiding priests and Jacobites, the Disarming Act, the dress, and many +other curiosities of the time and place. He seemed moderate; blaming +Parliament in several points, and especially because they had framed the +Act more severely against those who wore the dress than against those +who carried weapons. + +This moderation put it in my mind to question him of the Red Fox and the +Appin tenants; questions which, I thought, would seem natural enough in +the mouth of one travelling to that country. + + + +He said it was a bad business. “It’s wonderful,” said he, “where the +tenants find the money, for their life is mere starvation. (Ye don’t +carry such a thing as snuff, do ye, Mr. Balfour? No. Well, I’m better +wanting it.) But these tenants (as I was saying) are doubtless partly +driven to it. James Stewart in Duror (that’s him they call James of the +Glens) is half-brother to Ardshiel, the captain of the clan; and he is +a man much looked up to, and drives very hard. And then there’s one they +call Alan Breck--” + +“Ah!” I cried, “what of him?” + +“What of the wind that bloweth where it listeth?” said Henderland. “He’s +here and awa; here to-day and gone to-morrow: a fair heather-cat. He +might be glowering at the two of us out of yon whin-bush, and I wouldnae +wonder! Ye’ll no carry such a thing as snuff, will ye?” + +I told him no, and that he had asked the same thing more than once. + +“It’s highly possible,” said he, sighing. “But it seems strange ye +shouldnae carry it. However, as I was saying, this Alan Breck is a bold, +desperate customer, and well kent to be James’s right hand. His life +is forfeit already; he would boggle at naething; and maybe, if a +tenant-body was to hang back he would get a dirk in his wame.” + +“You make a poor story of it all, Mr. Henderland,” said I. “If it is all +fear upon both sides, I care to hear no more of it.” + +“Na,” said Mr. Henderland, “but there’s love too, and self-denial that +should put the like of you and me to shame. There’s something fine about +it; no perhaps Christian, but humanly fine. Even Alan Breck, by all that +I hear, is a chield to be respected. There’s many a lying sneck-draw +sits close in kirk in our own part of the country, and stands well in +the world’s eye, and maybe is a far worse man, Mr. Balfour, than yon +misguided shedder of man’s blood. Ay, ay, we might take a lesson by +them.--Ye’ll perhaps think I’ve been too long in the Hielands?” he +added, smiling to me. + +I told him not at all; that I had seen much to admire among the +Highlanders; and if he came to that, Mr. Campbell himself was a +Highlander. + +“Ay,” said he, “that’s true. It’s a fine blood.” + +“And what is the King’s agent about?” I asked. + +“Colin Campbell?” says Henderland. “Putting his head in a bees’ byke!” + +“He is to turn the tenants out by force, I hear?” said I. + +“Yes,” says he, “but the business has gone back and forth, as folk say. +First, James of the Glens rode to Edinburgh, and got some lawyer (a +Stewart, nae doubt--they all hing together like bats in a steeple) and +had the proceedings stayed. And then Colin Campbell cam’ in again, and +had the upper-hand before the Barons of Exchequer. And now they tell me +the first of the tenants are to flit to-morrow. It’s to begin at Duror +under James’s very windows, which doesnae seem wise by my humble way of +it.” + +“Do you think they’ll fight?” I asked. + +“Well,” says Henderland, “they’re disarmed--or supposed to be--for +there’s still a good deal of cold iron lying by in quiet places. And +then Colin Campbell has the sogers coming. But for all that, if I was +his lady wife, I wouldnae be well pleased till I got him home again. +They’re queer customers, the Appin Stewarts.” + +I asked if they were worse than their neighbours. + +“No they,” said he. “And that’s the worst part of it. For if Colin Roy +can get his business done in Appin, he has it all to begin again in the +next country, which they call Mamore, and which is one of the countries +of the Camerons. He’s King’s Factor upon both, and from both he has to +drive out the tenants; and indeed, Mr. Balfour (to be open with ye), +it’s my belief that if he escapes the one lot, he’ll get his death by +the other.” + +So we continued talking and walking the great part of the day; until +at last, Mr. Henderland after expressing his delight in my company, and +satisfaction at meeting with a friend of Mr. Campbell’s (“whom,” says +he, “I will make bold to call that sweet singer of our covenanted +Zion”), proposed that I should make a short stage, and lie the night in +his house a little beyond Kingairloch. To say truth, I was overjoyed; +for I had no great desire for John of the Claymore, and since my double +misadventure, first with the guide and next with the gentleman skipper, +I stood in some fear of any Highland stranger. Accordingly we shook +hands upon the bargain, and came in the afternoon to a small house, +standing alone by the shore of the Linnhe Loch. The sun was already gone +from the desert mountains of Ardgour upon the hither side, but shone on +those of Appin on the farther; the loch lay as still as a lake, only +the gulls were crying round the sides of it; and the whole place seemed +solemn and uncouth. + +We had no sooner come to the door of Mr. Henderland’s dwelling, than to +my great surprise (for I was now used to the politeness of Highlanders) +he burst rudely past me, dashed into the room, caught up a jar and +a small horn-spoon, and began ladling snuff into his nose in most +excessive quantities. Then he had a hearty fit of sneezing, and looked +round upon me with a rather silly smile. + +“It’s a vow I took,” says he. “I took a vow upon me that I wouldnae +carry it. Doubtless it’s a great privation; but when I think upon +the martyrs, not only to the Scottish Covenant but to other points of +Christianity, I think shame to mind it.” + +As soon as we had eaten (and porridge and whey was the best of the good +man’s diet) he took a grave face and said he had a duty to perform by +Mr. Campbell, and that was to inquire into my state of mind towards God. +I was inclined to smile at him since the business of the snuff; but he +had not spoken long before he brought the tears into my eyes. There are +two things that men should never weary of, goodness and humility; we get +none too much of them in this rough world among cold, proud people; but +Mr. Henderland had their very speech upon his tongue. And though I was a +good deal puffed up with my adventures and with having come off, as the +saying is, with flying colours; yet he soon had me on my knees beside a +simple, poor old man, and both proud and glad to be there. + +Before we went to bed he offered me sixpence to help me on my way, out +of a scanty store he kept in the turf wall of his house; at which excess +of goodness I knew not what to do. But at last he was so earnest with me +that I thought it the more mannerly part to let him have his way, and so +left him poorer than myself. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX + + +The next day Mr. Henderland found for me a man who had a boat of his own +and was to cross the Linnhe Loch that afternoon into Appin, fishing. Him +he prevailed on to take me, for he was one of his flock; and in this way +I saved a long day’s travel and the price of the two public ferries I +must otherwise have passed. + +It was near noon before we set out; a dark day with clouds, and the sun +shining upon little patches. The sea was here very deep and still, +and had scarce a wave upon it; so that I must put the water to my lips +before I could believe it to be truly salt. The mountains on either side +were high, rough and barren, very black and gloomy in the shadow of +the clouds, but all silver-laced with little watercourses where the sun +shone upon them. It seemed a hard country, this of Appin, for people to +care as much about as Alan did. + +There was but one thing to mention. A little after we had started, +the sun shone upon a little moving clump of scarlet close in along the +water-side to the north. It was much of the same red as soldiers’ coats; +every now and then, too, there came little sparks and lightnings, as +though the sun had struck upon bright steel. + +I asked my boatman what it should be, and he answered he supposed it was +some of the red soldiers coming from Fort William into Appin, against +the poor tenantry of the country. Well, it was a sad sight to me; +and whether it was because of my thoughts of Alan, or from something +prophetic in my bosom, although this was but the second time I had seen +King George’s troops, I had no good will to them. + +At last we came so near the point of land at the entering in of Loch +Leven that I begged to be set on shore. My boatman (who was an honest +fellow and mindful of his promise to the catechist) would fain have +carried me on to Balachulish; but as this was to take me farther from my +secret destination, I insisted, and was set on shore at last under the +wood of Lettermore (or Lettervore, for I have heard it both ways) in +Alan’s country of Appin. + +This was a wood of birches, growing on a steep, craggy side of a +mountain that overhung the loch. It had many openings and ferny howes; +and a road or bridle track ran north and south through the midst of +it, by the edge of which, where was a spring, I sat down to eat some +oat-bread of Mr. Henderland’s and think upon my situation. + +Here I was not only troubled by a cloud of stinging midges, but far more +by the doubts of my mind. What I ought to do, why I was going to join +myself with an outlaw and a would-be murderer like Alan, whether I +should not be acting more like a man of sense to tramp back to the south +country direct, by my own guidance and at my own charges, and what Mr. +Campbell or even Mr. Henderland would think of me if they should ever +learn my folly and presumption: these were the doubts that now began to +come in on me stronger than ever. + +As I was so sitting and thinking, a sound of men and horses came to me +through the wood; and presently after, at a turning of the road, I saw +four travellers come into view. The way was in this part so rough and +narrow that they came single and led their horses by the reins. The +first was a great, red-headed gentleman, of an imperious and flushed +face, who carried his hat in his hand and fanned himself, for he was in +a breathing heat. The second, by his decent black garb and white wig, +I correctly took to be a lawyer. The third was a servant, and wore some +part of his clothes in tartan, which showed that his master was of a +Highland family, and either an outlaw or else in singular good odour +with the Government, since the wearing of tartan was against the Act. If +I had been better versed in these things, I would have known the tartan +to be of the Argyle (or Campbell) colours. This servant had a good-sized +portmanteau strapped on his horse, and a net of lemons (to brew punch +with) hanging at the saddle-bow; as was often enough the custom with +luxurious travellers in that part of the country. + +As for the fourth, who brought up the tail, I had seen his like before, +and knew him at once to be a sheriff’s officer. + +I had no sooner seen these people coming than I made up my mind (for no +reason that I can tell) to go through with my adventure; and when the +first came alongside of me, I rose up from the bracken and asked him the +way to Aucharn. + +He stopped and looked at me, as I thought, a little oddly; and then, +turning to the lawyer, “Mungo,” said he, “there’s many a man would think +this more of a warning than two pyats. Here am I on my road to Duror on +the job ye ken; and here is a young lad starts up out of the bracken, +and speers if I am on the way to Aucharn.” + +“Glenure,” said the other, “this is an ill subject for jesting.” + +These two had now drawn close up and were gazing at me, while the two +followers had halted about a stone-cast in the rear. + +“And what seek ye in Aucharn?” said Colin Roy Campbell of Glenure, him +they called the Red Fox; for he it was that I had stopped. + +“The man that lives there,” said I. + +“James of the Glens,” says Glenure, musingly; and then to the lawyer: +“Is he gathering his people, think ye?” + +“Anyway,” says the lawyer, “we shall do better to bide where we are, and +let the soldiers rally us.” + +“If you are concerned for me,” said I, “I am neither of his people nor +yours, but an honest subject of King George, owing no man and fearing no +man.” + +“Why, very well said,” replies the Factor. “But if I may make so bold as +ask, what does this honest man so far from his country? and why does +he come seeking the brother of Ardshiel? I have power here, I must tell +you. I am King’s Factor upon several of these estates, and have twelve +files of soldiers at my back.” + +“I have heard a waif word in the country,” said I, a little nettled, +“that you were a hard man to drive.” + +He still kept looking at me, as if in doubt. + +“Well,” said he, at last, “your tongue is bold; but I am no unfriend to +plainness. If ye had asked me the way to the door of James Stewart on +any other day but this, I would have set ye right and bidden ye God +speed. But to-day--eh, Mungo?” And he turned again to look at the +lawyer. + +But just as he turned there came the shot of a firelock from higher up +the hill; and with the very sound of it Glenure fell upon the road. + +“O, I am dead!” he cried, several times over. + +The lawyer had caught him up and held him in his arms, the servant +standing over and clasping his hands. And now the wounded man looked +from one to another with scared eyes, and there was a change in his +voice, that went to the heart. + +“Take care of yourselves,” says he. “I am dead.” + +He tried to open his clothes as if to look for the wound, but his +fingers slipped on the buttons. With that he gave a great sigh, his head +rolled on his shoulder, and he passed away. + +The lawyer said never a word, but his face was as sharp as a pen and +as white as the dead man’s; the servant broke out into a great noise of +crying and weeping, like a child; and I, on my side, stood staring at +them in a kind of horror. The sheriff’s officer had run back at the +first sound of the shot, to hasten the coming of the soldiers. + +At last the lawyer laid down the dead man in his blood upon the road, +and got to his own feet with a kind of stagger. + +I believe it was his movement that brought me to my senses; for he had +no sooner done so than I began to scramble up the hill, crying out, “The +murderer! the murderer!” + +So little a time had elapsed, that when I got to the top of the first +steepness, and could see some part of the open mountain, the murderer +was still moving away at no great distance. He was a big man, in a black +coat, with metal buttons, and carried a long fowling-piece. + +“Here!” I cried. “I see him!” + +At that the murderer gave a little, quick look over his shoulder, and +began to run. The next moment he was lost in a fringe of birches; then +he came out again on the upper side, where I could see him climbing like +a jackanapes, for that part was again very steep; and then he dipped +behind a shoulder, and I saw him no more. + +All this time I had been running on my side, and had got a good way up, +when a voice cried upon me to stand. + +I was at the edge of the upper wood, and so now, when I halted and +looked back, I saw all the open part of the hill below me. + +The lawyer and the sheriff’s officer were standing just above the road, +crying and waving on me to come back; and on their left, the red-coats, +musket in hand, were beginning to struggle singly out of the lower wood. + +“Why should I come back?” I cried. “Come you on!” + +“Ten pounds if ye take that lad!” cried the lawyer. “He’s an accomplice. +He was posted here to hold us in talk.” + +At that word (which I could hear quite plainly, though it was to the +soldiers and not to me that he was crying it) my heart came in my mouth +with quite a new kind of terror. Indeed, it is one thing to stand the +danger of your life, and quite another to run the peril of both life and +character. The thing, besides, had come so suddenly, like thunder out of +a clear sky, that I was all amazed and helpless. + +The soldiers began to spread, some of them to run, and others to put up +their pieces and cover me; and still I stood. + +“Jouk[18] in here among the trees,” said a voice close by. + + [18] Duck. + +Indeed, I scarce knew what I was doing, but I obeyed; and as I did so, I +heard the firelocks bang and the balls whistle in the birches. + +Just inside the shelter of the trees I found Alan Breck standing, with +a fishing-rod. He gave me no salutation; indeed it was no time for +civilities; only “Come!” says he, and set off running along the side of +the mountain towards Balachulish; and I, like a sheep, to follow him. + +Now we ran among the birches; now stooping behind low humps upon the +mountain-side; now crawling on all fours among the heather. The pace was +deadly: my heart seemed bursting against my ribs; and I had neither time +to think nor breath to speak with. Only I remember seeing with wonder, +that Alan every now and then would straighten himself to his full height +and look back; and every time he did so, there came a great far-away +cheering and crying of the soldiers. + +Quarter of an hour later, Alan stopped, clapped down flat in the +heather, and turned to me. + +“Now,” said he, “it’s earnest. Do as I do, for your life.” + +And at the same speed, but now with infinitely more precaution, we +traced back again across the mountain-side by the same way that we had +come, only perhaps higher; till at last Alan threw himself down in the +upper wood of Lettermore, where I had found him at the first, and lay, +with his face in the bracken, panting like a dog. + +My own sides so ached, my head so swam, my tongue so hung out of my +mouth with heat and dryness, that I lay beside him like one dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +I TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE + + +Alan was the first to come round. He rose, went to the border of the +wood, peered out a little, and then returned and sat down. + +“Well,” said he, “yon was a hot burst, David.” + +I said nothing, nor so much as lifted my face. I had seen murder done, +and a great, ruddy, jovial gentleman struck out of life in a moment; the +pity of that sight was still sore within me, and yet that was but a part +of my concern. Here was murder done upon the man Alan hated; here was +Alan skulking in the trees and running from the troops; and whether his +was the hand that fired or only the head that ordered, signified +but little. By my way of it, my only friend in that wild country was +blood-guilty in the first degree; I held him in horror; I could not look +upon his face; I would have rather lain alone in the rain on my cold +isle, than in that warm wood beside a murderer. + +“Are ye still wearied?” he asked again. + +“No,” said I, still with my face in the bracken; “no, I am not wearied +now, and I can speak. You and me must twine,”[19] I said. “I liked you very +well, Alan, but your ways are not mine, and they’re not God’s: and the +short and the long of it is just that we must twine.” + + [19] Part. + +“I will hardly twine from ye, David, without some kind of reason for +the same,” said Alan, mighty gravely. “If ye ken anything against +my reputation, it’s the least thing that ye should do, for old +acquaintance’ sake, to let me hear the name of it; and if ye have only +taken a distaste to my society, it will be proper for me to judge if I’m +insulted.” + +“Alan,” said I, “what is the sense of this? Ye ken very well yon +Campbell-man lies in his blood upon the road.” + +He was silent for a little; then says he, “Did ever ye hear tell of the +story of the Man and the Good People?”--by which he meant the fairies. + +“No,” said I, “nor do I want to hear it.” + +“With your permission, Mr. Balfour, I will tell it you, whatever,” says +Alan. “The man, ye should ken, was cast upon a rock in the sea, where +it appears the Good People were in use to come and rest as they went +through to Ireland. The name of this rock is called the Skerryvore, and +it’s not far from where we suffered ship-wreck. Well, it seems the man +cried so sore, if he could just see his little bairn before he died! +that at last the king of the Good People took peety upon him, and sent +one flying that brought back the bairn in a poke[20] and laid it down +beside the man where he lay sleeping. So when the man woke, there was a +poke beside him and something into the inside of it that moved. Well, it +seems he was one of these gentry that think aye the worst of things; and +for greater security, he stuck his dirk throughout that poke before he +opened it, and there was his bairn dead. I am thinking to myself, Mr. +Balfour, that you and the man are very much alike.” + + [20] Bag. + +“Do you mean you had no hand in it?” cried I, sitting up. + +“I will tell you first of all, Mr. Balfour of Shaws, as one friend to +another,” said Alan, “that if I were going to kill a gentleman, it would +not be in my own country, to bring trouble on my clan; and I would not +go wanting sword and gun, and with a long fishing-rod upon my back.” + +“Well,” said I, “that’s true!” + +“And now,” continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying his hand upon +it in a certain manner, “I swear upon the Holy Iron I had neither art +nor part, act nor thought in it.” + +“I thank God for that!” cried I, and offered him my hand. + +He did not appear to see it. + +“And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell!” said he. “They are +not so scarce, that I ken!” + +“At least,” said I, “you cannot justly blame me, for you know very +well what you told me in the brig. But the temptation and the act are +different, I thank God again for that. We may all be tempted; but +to take a life in cold blood, Alan!” And I could say no more for the +moment. “And do you know who did it?” I added. “Do you know that man in +the black coat?” + +“I have nae clear mind about his coat,” said Alan cunningly, “but it +sticks in my head that it was blue.” + +“Blue or black, did ye know him?” said I. + +“I couldnae just conscientiously swear to him,” says Alan. “He gaed very +close by me, to be sure, but it’s a strange thing that I should just +have been tying my brogues.” + +“Can you swear that you don’t know him, Alan?” I cried, half angered, +half in a mind to laugh at his evasions. + +“Not yet,” says he; “but I’ve a grand memory for forgetting, David.” + +“And yet there was one thing I saw clearly,” said I; “and that was, that +you exposed yourself and me to draw the soldiers.” + +“It’s very likely,” said Alan; “and so would any gentleman. You and me +were innocent of that transaction.” + +“The better reason, since we were falsely suspected, that we should get +clear,” I cried. “The innocent should surely come before the guilty.” + +“Why, David,” said he, “the innocent have aye a chance to get assoiled +in court; but for the lad that shot the bullet, I think the best place +for him will be the heather. Them that havenae dipped their hands in any +little difficulty, should be very mindful of the case of them that have. +And that is the good Christianity. For if it was the other way round +about, and the lad whom I couldnae just clearly see had been in our +shoes, and we in his (as might very well have been), I think we would be +a good deal obliged to him oursel’s if he would draw the soldiers.” + +When it came to this, I gave Alan up. But he looked so innocent all the +time, and was in such clear good faith in what he said, and so ready to +sacrifice himself for what he deemed his duty, that my mouth was closed. +Mr. Henderland’s words came back to me: that we ourselves might take a +lesson by these wild Highlanders. Well, here I had taken mine. Alan’s +morals were all tail-first; but he was ready to give his life for them, +such as they were. + +“Alan,” said I, “I’ll not say it’s the good Christianity as I understand +it, but it’s good enough. And here I offer ye my hand for the second +time.” + +Whereupon he gave me both of his, saying surely I had cast a spell upon +him, for he could forgive me anything. Then he grew very grave, and said +we had not much time to throw away, but must both flee that country: he, +because he was a deserter, and the whole of Appin would now be searched +like a chamber, and every one obliged to give a good account of himself; +and I, because I was certainly involved in the murder. + +“O!” says I, willing to give him a little lesson, “I have no fear of the +justice of my country.” + +“As if this was your country!” said he. “Or as if ye would be tried +here, in a country of Stewarts!” + +“It’s all Scotland,” said I. + +“Man, I whiles wonder at ye,” said Alan. “This is a Campbell that’s been +killed. Well, it’ll be tried in Inverara, the Campbells’ head place; +with fifteen Campbells in the jury-box and the biggest Campbell of all +(and that’s the Duke) sitting cocking on the bench. Justice, David? +The same justice, by all the world, as Glenure found awhile ago at the +roadside.” + +This frightened me a little, I confess, and would have frightened me +more if I had known how nearly exact were Alan’s predictions; indeed +it was but in one point that he exaggerated, there being but eleven +Campbells on the jury; though as the other four were equally in the +Duke’s dependence, it mattered less than might appear. Still, I cried +out that he was unjust to the Duke of Argyle, who (for all he was a +Whig) was yet a wise and honest nobleman. + +“Hoot!” said Alan, “the man’s a Whig, nae doubt; but I would never deny +he was a good chieftain to his clan. And what would the clan think if +there was a Campbell shot, and naebody hanged, and their own chief +the Justice General? But I have often observed,” says Alan, “that you +Low-country bodies have no clear idea of what’s right and wrong.” + +At this I did at last laugh out aloud, when to my surprise, Alan joined +in, and laughed as merrily as myself. + +“Na, na,” said he, “we’re in the Hielands, David; and when I tell ye +to run, take my word and run. Nae doubt it’s a hard thing to skulk and +starve in the Heather, but it’s harder yet to lie shackled in a red-coat +prison.” + +I asked him whither we should flee; and as he told me “to the Lowlands,” + I was a little better inclined to go with him; for, indeed, I was +growing impatient to get back and have the upper-hand of my uncle. +Besides, Alan made so sure there would be no question of justice in the +matter, that I began to be afraid he might be right. Of all deaths, I +would truly like least to die by the gallows; and the picture of that +uncanny instrument came into my head with extraordinary clearness (as I +had once seen it engraved at the top of a pedlar’s ballad) and took away +my appetite for courts of justice. + +“I’ll chance it, Alan,” said I. “I’ll go with you.” + +“But mind you,” said Alan, “it’s no small thing. Ye maun lie bare and +hard, and brook many an empty belly. Your bed shall be the moorcock’s, +and your life shall be like the hunted deer’s, and ye shall sleep with +your hand upon your weapons. Ay, man, ye shall taigle many a weary foot, +or we get clear! I tell ye this at the start, for it’s a life that I ken +well. But if ye ask what other chance ye have, I answer: Nane. Either +take to the heather with me, or else hang.” + +“And that’s a choice very easily made,” said I; and we shook hands upon +it. + +“And now let’s take another keek at the red-coats,” says Alan, and he +led me to the north-eastern fringe of the wood. + +Looking out between the trees, we could see a great side of mountain, +running down exceeding steep into the waters of the loch. It was a rough +part, all hanging stone, and heather, and big scrogs of birchwood; and +away at the far end towards Balachulish, little wee red soldiers were +dipping up and down over hill and howe, and growing smaller every +minute. There was no cheering now, for I think they had other uses +for what breath was left them; but they still stuck to the trail, and +doubtless thought that we were close in front of them. + +Alan watched them, smiling to himself. + +“Ay,” said he, “they’ll be gey weary before they’ve got to the end of +that employ! And so you and me, David, can sit down and eat a bite, and +breathe a bit longer, and take a dram from my bottle. Then we’ll strike +for Aucharn, the house of my kinsman, James of the Glens, where I must +get my clothes, and my arms, and money to carry us along; and then, +David, we’ll cry, ‘Forth, Fortune!’ and take a cast among the heather.” + +So we sat again and ate and drank, in a place whence we could see the +sun going down into a field of great, wild, and houseless mountains, +such as I was now condemned to wander in with my companion. Partly as +we so sat, and partly afterwards, on the way to Aucharn, each of us +narrated his adventures; and I shall here set down so much of Alan’s as +seems either curious or needful. + +It appears he ran to the bulwarks as soon as the wave was passed; saw +me, and lost me, and saw me again, as I tumbled in the roost; and at +last had one glimpse of me clinging on the yard. It was this that put +him in some hope I would maybe get to land after all, and made him leave +those clues and messages which had brought me (for my sins) to that +unlucky country of Appin. + +In the meanwhile, those still on the brig had got the skiff launched, +and one or two were on board of her already, when there came a second +wave greater than the first, and heaved the brig out of her place, and +would certainly have sent her to the bottom, had she not struck and +caught on some projection of the reef. When she had struck first, it had +been bows-on, so that the stern had hitherto been lowest. But now her +stern was thrown in the air, and the bows plunged under the sea; and +with that, the water began to pour into the fore-scuttle like the +pouring of a mill-dam. + +It took the colour out of Alan’s face, even to tell what followed. +For there were still two men lying impotent in their bunks; and these, +seeing the water pour in and thinking the ship had foundered, began to +cry out aloud, and that with such harrowing cries that all who were on +deck tumbled one after another into the skiff and fell to their oars. +They were not two hundred yards away, when there came a third great sea; +and at that the brig lifted clean over the reef; her canvas filled for +a moment, and she seemed to sail in chase of them, but settling all the +while; and presently she drew down and down, as if a hand was drawing +her; and the sea closed over the _Covenant_ of Dysart. + +Never a word they spoke as they pulled ashore, being stunned with the +horror of that screaming; but they had scarce set foot upon the beach +when Hoseason woke up, as if out of a muse, and bade them lay hands upon +Alan. They hung back indeed, having little taste for the employment; +but Hoseason was like a fiend, crying that Alan was alone, that he had +a great sum about him, that he had been the means of losing the brig and +drowning all their comrades, and that here was both revenge and wealth +upon a single cast. It was seven against one; in that part of the shore +there was no rock that Alan could set his back to; and the sailors began +to spread out and come behind him. + +“And then,” said Alan, “the little man with the red head--I havenae mind +of the name that he is called.” + +“Riach,” said I. + +“Ay” said Alan, “Riach! Well, it was him that took up the clubs for me, +asked the men if they werenae feared of a judgment, and, says he ‘Dod, +I’ll put my back to the Hielandman’s mysel’.’ That’s none such an +entirely bad little man, yon little man with the red head,” said Alan. +“He has some spunks of decency.” + +“Well,” said I, “he was kind to me in his way.” + +“And so he was to Alan,” said he; “and by my troth, I found his way a +very good one! But ye see, David, the loss of the ship and the cries of +these poor lads sat very ill upon the man; and I’m thinking that would +be the cause of it.” + +“Well, I would think so,” says I; “for he was as keen as any of the rest +at the beginning. But how did Hoseason take it?” + +“It sticks in my mind that he would take it very ill,” says Alan. “But +the little man cried to me to run, and indeed I thought it was a good +observe, and ran. The last that I saw they were all in a knot upon the +beach, like folk that were not agreeing very well together.” + +“What do you mean by that?” said I. + +“Well, the fists were going,” said Alan; “and I saw one man go down like +a pair of breeks. But I thought it would be better no to wait. Ye see +there’s a strip of Campbells in that end of Mull, which is no good +company for a gentleman like me. If it hadnae been for that I would have +waited and looked for ye mysel’, let alone giving a hand to the little +man.” (It was droll how Alan dwelt on Mr. Riach’s stature, for, to say +the truth, the one was not much smaller than the other.) “So,” says he, +continuing, “I set my best foot forward, and whenever I met in with any +one I cried out there was a wreck ashore. Man, they didnae stop to fash +with me! Ye should have seen them linking for the beach! And when they +got there they found they had had the pleasure of a run, which is aye +good for a Campbell. I’m thinking it was a judgment on the clan that the +brig went down in the lump and didnae break. But it was a very unlucky +thing for you, that same; for if any wreck had come ashore they would +have hunted high and low, and would soon have found ye.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE HOUSE OF FEAR + + +Night fell as we were walking, and the clouds, which had broken up in +the afternoon, settled in and thickened, so that it fell, for the +season of the year, extremely dark. The way we went was over rough +mountainsides; and though Alan pushed on with an assured manner, I could +by no means see how he directed himself. + +At last, about half-past ten of the clock, we came to the top of a brae, +and saw lights below us. It seemed a house door stood open and let out a +beam of fire and candle-light; and all round the house and steading +five or six persons were moving hurriedly about, each carrying a lighted +brand. + +“James must have tint his wits,” said Alan. “If this was the soldiers +instead of you and me, he would be in a bonny mess. But I dare say he’ll +have a sentry on the road, and he would ken well enough no soldiers +would find the way that we came.” + +Hereupon he whistled three times, in a particular manner. It was strange +to see how, at the first sound of it, all the moving torches came to +a stand, as if the bearers were affrighted; and how, at the third, the +bustle began again as before. + +Having thus set folks’ minds at rest, we came down the brae, and were +met at the yard gate (for this place was like a well-doing farm) by +a tall, handsome man of more than fifty, who cried out to Alan in the +Gaelic. + +“James Stewart,” said Alan, “I will ask ye to speak in Scotch, for here +is a young gentleman with me that has nane of the other. This is him,” + he added, putting his arm through mine, “a young gentleman of the +Lowlands, and a laird in his country too, but I am thinking it will be +the better for his health if we give his name the go-by.” + +James of the Glens turned to me for a moment, and greeted me courteously +enough; the next he had turned to Alan. + +“This has been a dreadful accident,” he cried. “It will bring trouble on +the country.” And he wrung his hands. + +“Hoots!” said Alan, “ye must take the sour with the sweet, man. Colin +Roy is dead, and be thankful for that!” + +“Ay” said James, “and by my troth, I wish he was alive again! It’s all +very fine to blow and boast beforehand; but now it’s done, Alan; and +who’s to bear the wyte[21] of it? The accident fell out in Appin--mind ye +that, Alan; it’s Appin that must pay; and I am a man that has a family.” + + [21] Blame. + +While this was going on I looked about me at the servants. Some were on +ladders, digging in the thatch of the house or the farm buildings, +from which they brought out guns, swords, and different weapons of +war; others carried them away; and by the sound of mattock blows from +somewhere farther down the brae, I suppose they buried them. Though they +were all so busy, there prevailed no kind of order in their efforts; men +struggled together for the same gun and ran into each other with their +burning torches; and James was continually turning about from his talk +with Alan, to cry out orders which were apparently never understood. The +faces in the torchlight were like those of people overborne with hurry +and panic; and though none spoke above his breath, their speech sounded +both anxious and angry. + +It was about this time that a lassie came out of the house carrying +a pack or bundle; and it has often made me smile to think how Alan’s +instinct awoke at the mere sight of it. + +“What’s that the lassie has?” he asked. + +“We’re just setting the house in order, Alan,” said James, in his +frightened and somewhat fawning way. “They’ll search Appin with candles, +and we must have all things straight. We’re digging the bit guns and +swords into the moss, ye see; and these, I am thinking, will be your ain +French clothes. We’ll be to bury them, I believe.” + +“Bury my French clothes!” cried Alan. “Troth, no!” And he laid hold upon +the packet and retired into the barn to shift himself, recommending me +in the meanwhile to his kinsman. + +James carried me accordingly into the kitchen, and sat down with me at +table, smiling and talking at first in a very hospitable manner. But +presently the gloom returned upon him; he sat frowning and biting his +fingers; only remembered me from time to time; and then gave me but a +word or two and a poor smile, and back into his private terrors. His +wife sat by the fire and wept, with her face in her hands; his eldest +son was crouched upon the floor, running over a great mass of papers and +now and again setting one alight and burning it to the bitter end; all +the while a servant lass with a red face was rummaging about the room, +in a blind hurry of fear, and whimpering as she went; and every now and +again one of the men would thrust in his face from the yard, and cry for +orders. + +At last James could keep his seat no longer, and begged my permission to +be so unmannerly as walk about. “I am but poor company altogether, sir,” + says he, “but I can think of nothing but this dreadful accident, and the +trouble it is like to bring upon quite innocent persons.” + +A little after he observed his son burning a paper which he thought +should have been kept; and at that his excitement burst out so that it +was painful to witness. He struck the lad repeatedly. + +“Are you gone gyte?”[22] he cried. “Do you wish to hang your father?” and +forgetful of my presence, carried on at him a long time together in the +Gaelic, the young man answering nothing; only the wife, at the name of +hanging, throwing her apron over her face and sobbing out louder than +before. + + [22] Mad. + +This was all wretched for a stranger like myself to hear and see; and +I was right glad when Alan returned, looking like himself in his fine +French clothes, though (to be sure) they were now grown almost too +battered and withered to deserve the name of fine. I was then taken out +in my turn by another of the sons, and given that change of clothing of +which I had stood so long in need, and a pair of Highland brogues made +of deer-leather, rather strange at first, but after a little practice +very easy to the feet. + +By the time I came back Alan must have told his story; for it seemed +understood that I was to fly with him, and they were all busy upon our +equipment. They gave us each a sword and pistols, though I professed my +inability to use the former; and with these, and some ammunition, a bag +of oatmeal, an iron pan, and a bottle of right French brandy, we were +ready for the heather. Money, indeed, was lacking. I had about two +guineas left; Alan’s belt having been despatched by another hand, that +trusty messenger had no more than seventeen-pence to his whole fortune; +and as for James, it appears he had brought himself so low with journeys +to Edinburgh and legal expenses on behalf of the tenants, that he could +only scrape together three-and-five-pence-halfpenny, the most of it in +coppers. + +“This’ll no do,” said Alan. + +“Ye must find a safe bit somewhere near by,” said James, “and get word +sent to me. Ye see, ye’ll have to get this business prettily off, Alan. +This is no time to be stayed for a guinea or two. They’re sure to get +wind of ye, sure to seek ye, and by my way of it, sure to lay on ye the +wyte of this day’s accident. If it falls on you, it falls on me that am +your near kinsman and harboured ye while ye were in the country. And if +it comes on me----” he paused, and bit his fingers, with a white face. +“It would be a painful thing for our friends if I was to hang,” said he. + +“It would be an ill day for Appin,” says Alan. + +“It’s a day that sticks in my throat,” said James. “O man, man, man--man +Alan! you and me have spoken like two fools!” he cried, striking his +hand upon the wall so that the house rang again. + +“Well, and that’s true, too,” said Alan; “and my friend from the +Lowlands here” (nodding at me) “gave me a good word upon that head, if I +would only have listened to him.” + +“But see here,” said James, returning to his former manner, “if they lay +me by the heels, Alan, it’s then that you’ll be needing the money. For +with all that I have said and that you have said, it will look very +black against the two of us; do ye mark that? Well, follow me out, and +ye’ll, I’ll see that I’ll have to get a paper out against ye mysel’; +have to offer a reward for ye; ay, will I! It’s a sore thing to do +between such near friends; but if I get the dirdum[23] of this dreadful +accident, I’ll have to fend for myself, man. Do ye see that?” + + [23] Blame. + +He spoke with a pleading earnestness, taking Alan by the breast of the +coat. + +“Ay” said Alan, “I see that.” + +“And ye’ll have to be clear of the country, Alan--ay, and clear of +Scotland--you and your friend from the Lowlands, too. For I’ll have to +paper your friend from the Lowlands. Ye see that, Alan--say that ye see +that!” + +I thought Alan flushed a bit. “This is unco hard on me that brought him +here, James,” said he, throwing his head back. “It’s like making me a +traitor!” + +“Now, Alan, man!” cried James. “Look things in the face! He’ll be +papered anyway; Mungo Campbell’ll be sure to paper him; what matters +if I paper him too? And then, Alan, I am a man that has a family.” And +then, after a little pause on both sides, “And, Alan, it’ll be a jury of +Campbells,” said he. + +“There’s one thing,” said Alan, musingly, “that naebody kens his name.” + +“Nor yet they shallnae, Alan! There’s my hand on that,” cried James, for +all the world as if he had really known my name and was foregoing some +advantage. “But just the habit he was in, and what he looked like, and +his age, and the like? I couldnae well do less.” + +“I wonder at your father’s son,” cried Alan, sternly. “Would ye sell the +lad with a gift? Would ye change his clothes and then betray him?” + +“No, no, Alan,” said James. “No, no: the habit he took off--the habit +Mungo saw him in.” But I thought he seemed crestfallen; indeed, he was +clutching at every straw, and all the time, I dare say, saw the faces of +his hereditary foes on the bench, and in the jury-box, and the gallows +in the background. + +“Well, sir,” says Alan, turning to me, “what say ye to that? Ye are here +under the safeguard of my honour; and it’s my part to see nothing done +but what shall please you.” + +“I have but one word to say,” said I; “for to all this dispute I am a +perfect stranger. But the plain common-sense is to set the blame where +it belongs, and that is on the man who fired the shot. Paper him, as ye +call it, set the hunt on him; and let honest, innocent folk show their +faces in safety.” But at this both Alan and James cried out in horror; +bidding me hold my tongue, for that was not to be thought of; and asking +me what the Camerons would think? (which confirmed me, it must have been +a Cameron from Mamore that did the act) and if I did not see that the +lad might be caught? “Ye havenae surely thought of that?” said they, +with such innocent earnestness, that my hands dropped at my side and I +despaired of argument. + +“Very well, then,” said I, “paper me, if you please, paper Alan, paper +King George! We’re all three innocent, and that seems to be what’s +wanted. But at least, sir,” said I to James, recovering from my little +fit of annoyance, “I am Alan’s friend, and if I can be helpful to +friends of his, I will not stumble at the risk.” + +I thought it best to put a fair face on my consent, for I saw Alan +troubled; and, besides (thinks I to myself), as soon as my back is +turned, they will paper me, as they call it, whether I consent or not. +But in this I saw I was wrong; for I had no sooner said the words, than +Mrs. Stewart leaped out of her chair, came running over to us, and wept +first upon my neck and then on Alan’s, blessing God for our goodness to +her family. + +“As for you, Alan, it was no more than your bounden duty,” she said. +“But for this lad that has come here and seen us at our worst, and seen +the goodman fleeching like a suitor, him that by rights should give his +commands like any king--as for you, my lad,” she says, “my heart is wae +not to have your name, but I have your face; and as long as my heart +beats under my bosom, I will keep it, and think of it, and bless it.” + And with that she kissed me, and burst once more into such sobbing, that +I stood abashed. + +“Hoot, hoot,” said Alan, looking mighty silly. “The day comes unco soon +in this month of July; and to-morrow there’ll be a fine to-do in Appin, +a fine riding of dragoons, and crying of ‘Cruachan!’[24] and running of +red-coats; and it behoves you and me to the sooner be gone.” + + [24] The rallying-word of the Campbells. + +Thereupon we said farewell, and set out again, bending somewhat +eastwards, in a fine mild dark night, and over much the same broken +country as before. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS + + +Sometimes we walked, sometimes ran; and as it drew on to morning, walked +ever the less and ran the more. Though, upon its face, that country +appeared to be a desert, yet there were huts and houses of the people, +of which we must have passed more than twenty, hidden in quiet places of +the hills. When we came to one of these, Alan would leave me in the way, +and go himself and rap upon the side of the house and speak awhile at +the window with some sleeper awakened. This was to pass the news; which, +in that country, was so much of a duty that Alan must pause to attend to +it even while fleeing for his life; and so well attended to by others, +that in more than half of the houses where we called they had heard +already of the murder. In the others, as well as I could make out +(standing back at a distance and hearing a strange tongue), the news was +received with more of consternation than surprise. + +For all our hurry, day began to come in while we were still far from any +shelter. It found us in a prodigious valley, strewn with rocks and where +ran a foaming river. Wild mountains stood around it; there grew there +neither grass nor trees; and I have sometimes thought since then, that +it may have been the valley called Glencoe, where the massacre was in +the time of King William. But for the details of our itinerary, I am all +to seek; our way lying now by short cuts, now by great detours; our pace +being so hurried, our time of journeying usually by night; and the names +of such places as I asked and heard being in the Gaelic tongue and the +more easily forgotten. + +The first peep of morning, then, showed us this horrible place, and I +could see Alan knit his brow. + +“This is no fit place for you and me,” he said. “This is a place they’re +bound to watch.” + +And with that he ran harder than ever down to the water-side, in a part +where the river was split in two among three rocks. It went through with +a horrid thundering that made my belly quake; and there hung over the +lynn a little mist of spray. Alan looked neither to the right nor to the +left, but jumped clean upon the middle rock and fell there on his hands +and knees to check himself, for that rock was small and he might have +pitched over on the far side. I had scarce time to measure the distance +or to understand the peril before I had followed him, and he had caught +and stopped me. + +So there we stood, side by side upon a small rock slippery with spray, +a far broader leap in front of us, and the river dinning upon all sides. +When I saw where I was, there came on me a deadly sickness of fear, +and I put my hand over my eyes. Alan took me and shook me; I saw he +was speaking, but the roaring of the falls and the trouble of my mind +prevented me from hearing; only I saw his face was red with anger, and +that he stamped upon the rock. The same look showed me the water raging +by, and the mist hanging in the air: and with that I covered my eyes +again and shuddered. + +The next minute Alan had set the brandy bottle to my lips, and forced +me to drink about a gill, which sent the blood into my head again. Then, +putting his hands to his mouth, and his mouth to my ear, he shouted, +“Hang or drown!” and turning his back upon me, leaped over the farther +branch of the stream, and landed safe. + +I was now alone upon the rock, which gave me the more room; the brandy +was singing in my ears; I had this good example fresh before me, and +just wit enough to see that if I did not leap at once, I should never +leap at all. I bent low on my knees and flung myself forth, with +that kind of anger of despair that has sometimes stood me in stead of +courage. Sure enough, it was but my hands that reached the full length; +these slipped, caught again, slipped again; and I was sliddering back +into the lynn, when Alan seized me, first by the hair, then by the +collar, and with a great strain dragged me into safety. + +Never a word he said, but set off running again for his life, and I must +stagger to my feet and run after him. I had been weary before, but now +I was sick and bruised, and partly drunken with the brandy; I kept +stumbling as I ran, I had a stitch that came near to overmaster me; and +when at last Alan paused under a great rock that stood there among a +number of others, it was none too soon for David Balfour. + +A great rock I have said; but by rights it was two rocks leaning +together at the top, both some twenty feet high, and at the first sight +inaccessible. Even Alan (though you may say he had as good as four +hands) failed twice in an attempt to climb them; and it was only at the +third trial, and then by standing on my shoulders and leaping up with +such force as I thought must have broken my collar-bone, that he secured +a lodgment. Once there, he let down his leathern girdle; and with the +aid of that and a pair of shallow footholds in the rock, I scrambled up +beside him. + +Then I saw why we had come there; for the two rocks, being both somewhat +hollow on the top and sloping one to the other, made a kind of dish or +saucer, where as many as three or four men might have lain hidden. + +All this while Alan had not said a word, and had run and climbed with +such a savage, silent frenzy of hurry, that I knew that he was in mortal +fear of some miscarriage. Even now we were on the rock he said nothing, +nor so much as relaxed the frowning look upon his face; but clapped flat +down, and keeping only one eye above the edge of our place of shelter +scouted all round the compass. The dawn had come quite clear; we could +see the stony sides of the valley, and its bottom, which was bestrewed +with rocks, and the river, which went from one side to another, and made +white falls; but nowhere the smoke of a house, nor any living creature +but some eagles screaming round a cliff. + +Then at last Alan smiled. + +“Ay” said he, “now we have a chance;” and then looking at me with some +amusement, “Ye’re no very gleg[25] at the jumping,” said he. + + [25] Brisk. + +At this I suppose I coloured with mortification, for he added at once, +“Hoots! small blame to ye! To be feared of a thing and yet to do it, is +what makes the prettiest kind of a man. And then there was water there, +and water’s a thing that dauntons even me. No, no,” said Alan, “it’s no +you that’s to blame, it’s me.” + +I asked him why. + +“Why,” said he, “I have proved myself a gomeral this night. For first +of all I take a wrong road, and that in my own country of Appin; so that +the day has caught us where we should never have been; and thanks to +that, we lie here in some danger and mair discomfort. And next (which is +the worst of the two, for a man that has been so much among the heather +as myself) I have come wanting a water-bottle, and here we lie for a +long summer’s day with naething but neat spirit. Ye may think that a +small matter; but before it comes night, David, ye’ll give me news of +it.” + +I was anxious to redeem my character, and offered, if he would pour out +the brandy, to run down and fill the bottle at the river. + +“I wouldnae waste the good spirit either,” says he. “It’s been a good +friend to you this night; or in my poor opinion, ye would still be +cocking on yon stone. And what’s mair,” says he, “ye may have observed +(you that’s a man of so much penetration) that Alan Breck Stewart was +perhaps walking quicker than his ordinar’.” + +“You!” I cried, “you were running fit to burst.” + +“Was I so?” said he. “Well, then, ye may depend upon it, there was nae +time to be lost. And now here is enough said; gang you to your sleep, +lad, and I’ll watch.” + +Accordingly, I lay down to sleep; a little peaty earth had drifted in +between the top of the two rocks, and some bracken grew there, to be a +bed to me; the last thing I heard was still the crying of the eagles. + +I dare say it would be nine in the morning when I was roughly awakened, +and found Alan’s hand pressed upon my mouth. + +“Wheesht!” he whispered. “Ye were snoring.” + +“Well,” said I, surprised at his anxious and dark face, “and why not?” + +He peered over the edge of the rock, and signed to me to do the like. + +It was now high day, cloudless, and very hot. The valley was as clear as +in a picture. About half a mile up the water was a camp of red-coats; a +big fire blazed in their midst, at which some were cooking; and near by, +on the top of a rock about as high as ours, there stood a sentry, with +the sun sparkling on his arms. All the way down along the river-side +were posted other sentries; here near together, there widelier +scattered; some planted like the first, on places of command, some +on the ground level and marching and counter-marching, so as to meet +half-way. Higher up the glen, where the ground was more open, the chain +of posts was continued by horse-soldiers, whom we could see in the +distance riding to and fro. Lower down, the infantry continued; but +as the stream was suddenly swelled by the confluence of a considerable +burn, they were more widely set, and only watched the fords and +stepping-stones. + +I took but one look at them, and ducked again into my place. It was +strange indeed to see this valley, which had lain so solitary in the +hour of dawn, bristling with arms and dotted with the red coats and +breeches. + +“Ye see,” said Alan, “this was what I was afraid of, Davie: that they +would watch the burn-side. They began to come in about two hours ago, +and, man! but ye’re a grand hand at the sleeping! We’re in a narrow +place. If they get up the sides of the hill, they could easy spy us with +a glass; but if they’ll only keep in the foot of the valley, we’ll do +yet. The posts are thinner down the water; and, come night, we’ll try +our hand at getting by them.” + +“And what are we to do till night?” I asked. + +“Lie here,” says he, “and birstle.” + +That one good Scotch word, “birstle,” was indeed the most of the story +of the day that we had now to pass. You are to remember that we lay on +the bare top of a rock, like scones upon a girdle; the sun beat upon us +cruelly; the rock grew so heated, a man could scarce endure the touch of +it; and the little patch of earth and fern, which kept cooler, was only +large enough for one at a time. We took turn about to lie on the naked +rock, which was indeed like the position of that saint that was martyred +on a gridiron; and it ran in my mind how strange it was, that in the +same climate and at only a few days’ distance, I should have suffered +so cruelly, first from cold upon my island and now from heat upon this +rock. + +All the while we had no water, only raw brandy for a drink, which was +worse than nothing; but we kept the bottle as cool as we could, burying +it in the earth, and got some relief by bathing our breasts and temples. + +The soldiers kept stirring all day in the bottom of the valley, now +changing guard, now in patrolling parties hunting among the rocks. These +lay round in so great a number, that to look for men among them was like +looking for a needle in a bottle of hay; and being so hopeless a task, +it was gone about with the less care. Yet we could see the soldiers +pike their bayonets among the heather, which sent a cold thrill into my +vitals; and they would sometimes hang about our rock, so that we scarce +dared to breathe. + +It was in this way that I first heard the right English speech; one +fellow as he went by actually clapping his hand upon the sunny face of +the rock on which we lay, and plucking it off again with an oath. “I +tell you it’s ‘ot,” says he; and I was amazed at the clipping tones and +the odd sing-song in which he spoke, and no less at that strange trick +of dropping out the letter “h.” To be sure, I had heard Ransome; but he +had taken his ways from all sorts of people, and spoke so imperfectly +at the best, that I set down the most of it to childishness. My surprise +was all the greater to hear that manner of speaking in the mouth of a +grown man; and indeed I have never grown used to it; nor yet altogether +with the English grammar, as perhaps a very critical eye might here and +there spy out even in these memoirs. + +The tediousness and pain of these hours upon the rock grew only the +greater as the day went on; the rock getting still the hotter and the +sun fiercer. There were giddiness, and sickness, and sharp pangs like +rheumatism, to be supported. I minded then, and have often minded since, +on the lines in our Scotch psalm:-- + + “The moon by night thee shall not smite, + Nor yet the sun by day;” + +and indeed it was only by God’s blessing that we were neither of us +sun-smitten. + +At last, about two, it was beyond men’s bearing, and there was now +temptation to resist, as well as pain to thole. For the sun being now +got a little into the west, there came a patch of shade on the east side +of our rock, which was the side sheltered from the soldiers. + +“As well one death as another,” said Alan, and slipped over the edge and +dropped on the ground on the shadowy side. + +I followed him at once, and instantly fell all my length, so weak was I +and so giddy with that long exposure. Here, then, we lay for an hour or +two, aching from head to foot, as weak as water, and lying quite naked +to the eye of any soldier who should have strolled that way. None came, +however, all passing by on the other side; so that our rock continued to +be our shield even in this new position. + +Presently we began again to get a little strength; and as the soldiers +were now lying closer along the river-side, Alan proposed that we should +try a start. I was by this time afraid of but one thing in the world; +and that was to be set back upon the rock; anything else was welcome +to me; so we got ourselves at once in marching order, and began to slip +from rock to rock one after the other, now crawling flat on our bellies +in the shade, now making a run for it, heart in mouth. + +The soldiers, having searched this side of the valley after a fashion, +and being perhaps somewhat sleepy with the sultriness of the afternoon, +had now laid by much of their vigilance, and stood dozing at their posts +or only kept a look-out along the banks of the river; so that in this +way, keeping down the valley and at the same time towards the mountains, +we drew steadily away from their neighbourhood. But the business was the +most wearing I had ever taken part in. A man had need of a hundred +eyes in every part of him, to keep concealed in that uneven country and +within cry of so many and scattered sentries. When we must pass an open +place, quickness was not all, but a swift judgment not only of the lie +of the whole country, but of the solidity of every stone on which we +must set foot; for the afternoon was now fallen so breathless that the +rolling of a pebble sounded abroad like a pistol shot, and would start +the echo calling among the hills and cliffs. + +By sundown we had made some distance, even by our slow rate of progress, +though to be sure the sentry on the rock was still plainly in our view. +But now we came on something that put all fears out of season; and that +was a deep rushing burn, that tore down, in that part, to join the glen +river. At the sight of this we cast ourselves on the ground and plunged +head and shoulders in the water; and I cannot tell which was the more +pleasant, the great shock as the cool stream went over us, or the greed +with which we drank of it. + +We lay there (for the banks hid us), drank again and again, bathed our +chests, let our wrists trail in the running water till they ached +with the chill; and at last, being wonderfully renewed, we got out the +meal-bag and made drammach in the iron pan. This, though it is but cold +water mingled with oatmeal, yet makes a good enough dish for a hungry +man; and where there are no means of making fire, or (as in our case) +good reason for not making one, it is the chief stand-by of those who +have taken to the heather. + +As soon as the shadow of the night had fallen, we set forth again, at +first with the same caution, but presently with more boldness, standing +our full height and stepping out at a good pace of walking. The way +was very intricate, lying up the steep sides of mountains and along the +brows of cliffs; clouds had come in with the sunset, and the night was +dark and cool; so that I walked without much fatigue, but in continual +fear of falling and rolling down the mountains, and with no guess at our +direction. + +The moon rose at last and found us still on the road; it was in its last +quarter, and was long beset with clouds; but after awhile shone out and +showed me many dark heads of mountains, and was reflected far underneath +us on the narrow arm of a sea-loch. + +At this sight we both paused: I struck with wonder to find myself so +high and walking (as it seemed to me) upon clouds; Alan to make sure of +his direction. + +Seemingly he was well pleased, and he must certainly have judged us +out of ear-shot of all our enemies; for throughout the rest of our +night-march he beguiled the way with whistling of many tunes, warlike, +merry, plaintive; reel tunes that made the foot go faster; tunes of my +own south country that made me fain to be home from my adventures; and +all these, on the great, dark, desert mountains, making company upon the +way. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH + + +Early as day comes in the beginning of July, it was still dark when we +reached our destination, a cleft in the head of a great mountain, with a +water running through the midst, and upon the one hand a shallow cave +in a rock. Birches grew there in a thin, pretty wood, which a little +farther on was changed into a wood of pines. The burn was full of trout; +the wood of cushat-doves; on the open side of the mountain beyond, +whaups would be always whistling, and cuckoos were plentiful. From the +mouth of the cleft we looked down upon a part of Mamore, and on the +sea-loch that divides that country from Appin; and this from so great +a height as made it my continual wonder and pleasure to sit and behold +them. + +The name of the cleft was the Heugh of Corrynakiegh; and although from +its height and being so near upon the sea, it was often beset with +clouds, yet it was on the whole a pleasant place, and the five days we +lived in it went happily. + +We slept in the cave, making our bed of heather bushes which we cut for +that purpose, and covering ourselves with Alan’s great-coat. There was a +low concealed place, in a turning of the glen, where we were so bold as +to make fire: so that we could warm ourselves when the clouds set in, +and cook hot porridge, and grill the little trouts that we caught with +our hands under the stones and overhanging banks of the burn. This was +indeed our chief pleasure and business; and not only to save our meal +against worse times, but with a rivalry that much amused us, we spent +a great part of our days at the water-side, stripped to the waist and +groping about or (as they say) guddling for these fish. The largest we +got might have been a quarter of a pound; but they were of good flesh +and flavour, and when broiled upon the coals, lacked only a little salt +to be delicious. + +In any by-time Alan must teach me to use my sword, for my ignorance +had much distressed him; and I think besides, as I had sometimes +the upper-hand of him in the fishing, he was not sorry to turn to an +exercise where he had so much the upper-hand of me. He made it somewhat +more of a pain than need have been, for he stormed at me all through the +lessons in a very violent manner of scolding, and would push me so close +that I made sure he must run me through the body. I was often tempted +to turn tail, but held my ground for all that, and got some profit of +my lessons; if it was but to stand on guard with an assured countenance, +which is often all that is required. So, though I could never in the +least please my master, I was not altogether displeased with myself. + +In the meanwhile, you are not to suppose that we neglected our chief +business, which was to get away. + +“It will be many a long day,” Alan said to me on our first morning, +“before the red-coats think upon seeking Corrynakiegh; so now we must +get word sent to James, and he must find the siller for us.” + +“And how shall we send that word?” says I. “We are here in a desert +place, which yet we dare not leave; and unless ye get the fowls of the +air to be your messengers, I see not what we shall be able to do.” + +“Ay?” said Alan. “Ye’re a man of small contrivance, David.” + +Thereupon he fell in a muse, looking in the embers of the fire; and +presently, getting a piece of wood, he fashioned it in a cross, the four +ends of which he blackened on the coals. Then he looked at me a little +shyly. + +“Could ye lend me my button?” says he. “It seems a strange thing to ask +a gift again, but I own I am laith to cut another.” + +I gave him the button; whereupon he strung it on a strip of his +great-coat which he had used to bind the cross; and tying in a little +sprig of birch and another of fir, he looked upon his work with +satisfaction. + +“Now,” said he, “there is a little clachan” (what is called a hamlet +in the English) “not very far from Corrynakiegh, and it has the name of +Koalisnacoan. There there are living many friends of mine whom I could +trust with my life, and some that I am no just so sure of. Ye see, +David, there will be money set upon our heads; James himsel’ is to set +money on them; and as for the Campbells, they would never spare siller +where there was a Stewart to be hurt. If it was otherwise, I would go +down to Koalisnacoan whatever, and trust my life into these people’s +hands as lightly as I would trust another with my glove.” + +“But being so?” said I. + +“Being so,” said he, “I would as lief they didnae see me. There’s bad +folk everywhere, and what’s far worse, weak ones. So when it comes dark +again, I will steal down into that clachan, and set this that I have +been making in the window of a good friend of mine, John Breck Maccoll, +a bouman[26] of Appin’s.” + + [26] A bouman is a tenant who takes stock from the landlord and + shares with him the increase. + +“With all my heart,” says I; “and if he finds it, what is he to think?” + +“Well,” says Alan, “I wish he was a man of more penetration, for by my +troth I am afraid he will make little enough of it! But this is what I +have in my mind. This cross is something in the nature of the +crosstarrie, or fiery cross, which is the signal of gathering in our +clans; yet he will know well enough the clan is not to rise, for there +it is standing in his window, and no word with it. So he will say to +himsel’, _The clan is not to rise, but there is something_. Then he +will see my button, and that was Duncan Stewart’s. And then he will say +to himsel’, _The son of Duncan is in the heather and has need of me_.” + +“Well,” said I, “it may be. But even supposing so, there is a good deal +of heather between here and the Forth.” + +“And that is a very true word,” says Alan. “But then John Breck will +see the sprig of birch and the sprig of pine; and he will say to +himsel’ (if he is a man of any penetration at all, which I misdoubt), +_Alan will be lying in a wood which is both of pines and birches_. Then +he will think to himsel’, _That is not so very rife hereabout;_ and +then he will come and give us a look up in Corrynakiegh. And if he does +not, David, the devil may fly away with him, for what I care; for he +will no be worth the salt to his porridge.” + +“Eh, man,” said I, drolling with him a little, “you’re very ingenious! +But would it not be simpler for you to write him a few words in black +and white?” + +“And that is an excellent observe, Mr. Balfour of Shaws,” says Alan, +drolling with me; “and it would certainly be much simpler for me to +write to him, but it would be a sore job for John Breck to read it. He +would have to go to the school for two-three years; and it’s possible we +might be wearied waiting on him.” + +So that night Alan carried down his fiery cross and set it in the +bouman’s window. He was troubled when he came back; for the dogs had +barked and the folk run out from their houses; and he thought he had +heard a clatter of arms and seen a red-coat come to one of the doors. On +all accounts we lay the next day in the borders of the wood and kept a +close look-out, so that if it was John Breck that came we might be ready +to guide him, and if it was the red-coats we should have time to get +away. + +About noon a man was to be spied, straggling up the open side of the +mountain in the sun, and looking round him as he came, from under his +hand. No sooner had Alan seen him than he whistled; the man turned and +came a little towards us: then Alan would give another “peep!” and the +man would come still nearer; and so by the sound of whistling, he was +guided to the spot where we lay. + +He was a ragged, wild, bearded man, about forty, grossly disfigured with +the small pox, and looked both dull and savage. Although his English +was very bad and broken, yet Alan (according to his very handsome use, +whenever I was by) would suffer him to speak no Gaelic. Perhaps the +strange language made him appear more backward than he really was; but +I thought he had little good-will to serve us, and what he had was the +child of terror. + +Alan would have had him carry a message to James; but the bouman would +hear of no message. “She was forget it,” he said in his screaming voice; +and would either have a letter or wash his hands of us. + +I thought Alan would be gravelled at that, for we lacked the means of +writing in that desert. + +But he was a man of more resources than I knew; searched the wood until +he found the quill of a cushat-dove, which he shaped into a pen; made +himself a kind of ink with gunpowder from his horn and water from the +running stream; and tearing a corner from his French military commission +(which he carried in his pocket, like a talisman to keep him from the +gallows), he sat down and wrote as follows: + + +“DEAR KINSMAN,--Please send the money by the bearer to the place he kens +of. + +“Your affectionate cousin, + +“A. S.” + + +This he intrusted to the bouman, who promised to make what manner of +speed he best could, and carried it off with him down the hill. + +He was three full days gone, but about five in the evening of the third, +we heard a whistling in the wood, which Alan answered; and presently the +bouman came up the water-side, looking for us, right and left. He seemed +less sulky than before, and indeed he was no doubt well pleased to have +got to the end of such a dangerous commission. + +He gave us the news of the country; that it was alive with red-coats; +that arms were being found, and poor folk brought in trouble daily; and +that James and some of his servants were already clapped in prison at +Fort William, under strong suspicion of complicity. It seemed it was +noised on all sides that Alan Breck had fired the shot; and there was a +bill issued for both him and me, with one hundred pounds reward. + +This was all as bad as could be; and the little note the bouman had +carried us from Mrs. Stewart was of a miserable sadness. In it she +besought Alan not to let himself be captured, assuring him, if he fell +in the hands of the troops, both he and James were no better than dead +men. The money she had sent was all that she could beg or borrow, and +she prayed heaven we could be doing with it. Lastly, she said, she +enclosed us one of the bills in which we were described. + +This we looked upon with great curiosity and not a little fear, partly +as a man may look in a mirror, partly as he might look into the barrel +of an enemy’s gun to judge if it be truly aimed. Alan was advertised as +“a small, pock-marked, active man of thirty-five or thereby, dressed +in a feathered hat, a French side-coat of blue with silver buttons, +and lace a great deal tarnished, a red waistcoat and breeches of black, +shag;” and I as “a tall strong lad of about eighteen, wearing an +old blue coat, very ragged, an old Highland bonnet, a long homespun +waistcoat, blue breeches; his legs bare, low-country shoes, wanting the +toes; speaks like a Lowlander, and has no beard.” + +Alan was well enough pleased to see his finery so fully remembered and +set down; only when he came to the word tarnish, he looked upon his lace +like one a little mortified. As for myself, I thought I cut a miserable +figure in the bill; and yet was well enough pleased too, for since I had +changed these rags, the description had ceased to be a danger and become +a source of safety. + +“Alan,” said I, “you should change your clothes.” + +“Na, troth!” said Alan, “I have nae others. A fine sight I would be, if +I went back to France in a bonnet!” + +This put a second reflection in my mind: that if I were to separate +from Alan and his tell-tale clothes I should be safe against arrest, and +might go openly about my business. Nor was this all; for suppose I was +arrested when I was alone, there was little against me; but suppose I +was taken in company with the reputed murderer, my case would begin to +be grave. For generosity’s sake I dare not speak my mind upon this head; +but I thought of it none the less. + +I thought of it all the more, too, when the bouman brought out a green +purse with four guineas in gold, and the best part of another in small +change. True, it was more than I had. But then Alan, with less than +five guineas, had to get as far as France; I, with my less than two, not +beyond Queensferry; so that taking things in their proportion, Alan’s +society was not only a peril to my life, but a burden on my purse. + +But there was no thought of the sort in the honest head of my companion. +He believed he was serving, helping, and protecting me. And what could I +do but hold my peace, and chafe, and take my chance of it? + +“It’s little enough,” said Alan, putting the purse in his pocket, “but +it’ll do my business. And now, John Breck, if ye will hand me over my +button, this gentleman and me will be for taking the road.” + +But the bouman, after feeling about in a hairy purse that hung in front +of him in the Highland manner (though he wore otherwise the Lowland +habit, with sea-trousers), began to roll his eyes strangely, and at last +said, “Her nainsel will loss it,” meaning he thought he had lost it. + +“What!” cried Alan, “you will lose my button, that was my father’s +before me? Now I will tell you what is in my mind, John Breck: it is +in my mind this is the worst day’s work that ever ye did since ye was +born.” + +And as Alan spoke, he set his hands on his knees and looked at the +bouman with a smiling mouth, and that dancing light in his eyes that +meant mischief to his enemies. + +Perhaps the bouman was honest enough; perhaps he had meant to cheat and +then, finding himself alone with two of us in a desert place, cast back +to honesty as being safer; at least, and all at once, he seemed to find +that button and handed it to Alan. + +“Well, and it is a good thing for the honour of the Maccolls,” said +Alan, and then to me, “Here is my button back again, and I thank you for +parting with it, which is of a piece with all your friendships to me.” + Then he took the warmest parting of the bouman. “For,” says he, “ye have +done very well by me, and set your neck at a venture, and I will always +give you the name of a good man.” + +Lastly, the bouman took himself off by one way; and Alan and I (getting our +chattels together) struck into another to resume our flight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR + + +Some seven hours’ incessant, hard travelling brought us early in the +morning to the end of a range of mountains. In front of us there lay a +piece of low, broken, desert land, which we must now cross. The sun was +not long up, and shone straight in our eyes; a little, thin mist went up +from the face of the moorland like a smoke; so that (as Alan said) there +might have been twenty squadron of dragoons there and we none the wiser. + +We sat down, therefore, in a howe of the hill-side till the mist should +have risen, and made ourselves a dish of drammach, and held a council of +war. + +“David,” said Alan, “this is the kittle bit. Shall we lie here till it +comes night, or shall we risk it, and stave on ahead?” + +“Well,” said I, “I am tired indeed, but I could walk as far again, if +that was all.” + +“Ay, but it isnae,” said Alan, “nor yet the half. This is how we stand: +Appin’s fair death to us. To the south it’s all Campbells, and no to be +thought of. To the north; well, there’s no muckle to be gained by going +north; neither for you, that wants to get to Queensferry, nor yet for +me, that wants to get to France. Well, then, we’ll can strike east.” + +“East be it!” says I, quite cheerily; but I was thinking in to myself: +“O, man, if you would only take one point of the compass and let me take +any other, it would be the best for both of us.” + +“Well, then, east, ye see, we have the muirs,” said Alan. “Once there, +David, it’s mere pitch-and-toss. Out on yon bald, naked, flat place, +where can a body turn to? Let the red-coats come over a hill, they can +spy you miles away; and the sorrow’s in their horses’ heels, they would +soon ride you down. It’s no good place, David; and I’m free to say, it’s +worse by daylight than by dark.” + +“Alan,” said I, “hear my way of it. Appin’s death for us; we have none +too much money, nor yet meal; the longer they seek, the nearer they +may guess where we are; it’s all a risk; and I give my word to go ahead +until we drop.” + +Alan was delighted. “There are whiles,” said he, “when ye are altogether +too canny and Whiggish to be company for a gentleman like me; but there +come other whiles when ye show yoursel’ a mettle spark; and it’s then, +David, that I love ye like a brother.” + +The mist rose and died away, and showed us that country lying as waste +as the sea; only the moorfowl and the pewees crying upon it, and far +over to the east, a herd of deer, moving like dots. Much of it was red +with heather; much of the rest broken up with bogs and hags and peaty +pools; some had been burnt black in a heath fire; and in another place +there was quite a forest of dead firs, standing like skeletons. A +wearier-looking desert man never saw; but at least it was clear of +troops, which was our point. + +We went down accordingly into the waste, and began to make our toilsome +and devious travel towards the eastern verge. There were the tops of +mountains all round (you are to remember) from whence we might be spied +at any moment; so it behoved us to keep in the hollow parts of the moor, +and when these turned aside from our direction to move upon its naked +face with infinite care. Sometimes, for half an hour together, we must +crawl from one heather bush to another, as hunters do when they are hard +upon the deer. It was a clear day again, with a blazing sun; the water +in the brandy bottle was soon gone; and altogether, if I had guessed +what it would be to crawl half the time upon my belly and to walk much +of the rest stooping nearly to the knees, I should certainly have held +back from such a killing enterprise. + +Toiling and resting and toiling again, we wore away the morning; and +about noon lay down in a thick bush of heather to sleep. Alan took the +first watch; and it seemed to me I had scarce closed my eyes before I +was shaken up to take the second. We had no clock to go by; and Alan +stuck a sprig of heath in the ground to serve instead; so that as soon +as the shadow of the bush should fall so far to the east, I might know +to rouse him. But I was by this time so weary that I could have slept +twelve hours at a stretch; I had the taste of sleep in my throat; my +joints slept even when my mind was waking; the hot smell of the heather, +and the drone of the wild bees, were like possets to me; and every now +and again I would give a jump and find I had been dozing. + +The last time I woke I seemed to come back from farther away, and +thought the sun had taken a great start in the heavens. I looked at the +sprig of heath, and at that I could have cried aloud: for I saw I had +betrayed my trust. My head was nearly turned with fear and shame; and at +what I saw, when I looked out around me on the moor, my heart was like +dying in my body. For sure enough, a body of horse-soldiers had come +down during my sleep, and were drawing near to us from the south-east, +spread out in the shape of a fan and riding their horses to and fro in +the deep parts of the heather. + +When I waked Alan, he glanced first at the soldiers, then at the mark +and the position of the sun, and knitted his brows with a sudden, quick +look, both ugly and anxious, which was all the reproach I had of him. + +“What are we to do now?” I asked. + +“We’ll have to play at being hares,” said he. “Do ye see yon mountain?” + pointing to one on the north-eastern sky. + +“Ay,” said I. + +“Well, then,” says he, “let us strike for that. Its name is Ben Alder. +it is a wild, desert mountain full of hills and hollows, and if we can +win to it before the morn, we may do yet.” + +“But, Alan,” cried I, “that will take us across the very coming of the +soldiers!” + +“I ken that fine,” said he; “but if we are driven back on Appin, we are +two dead men. So now, David man, be brisk!” + +With that he began to run forward on his hands and knees with an +incredible quickness, as though it were his natural way of going. All +the time, too, he kept winding in and out in the lower parts of the +moorland where we were the best concealed. Some of these had been burned +or at least scathed with fire; and there rose in our faces (which were +close to the ground) a blinding, choking dust as fine as smoke. The +water was long out; and this posture of running on the hands and knees +brings an overmastering weakness and weariness, so that the joints ache +and the wrists faint under your weight. + +Now and then, indeed, where was a big bush of heather, we lay awhile, +and panted, and putting aside the leaves, looked back at the dragoons. +They had not spied us, for they held straight on; a half-troop, I think, +covering about two miles of ground, and beating it mighty thoroughly as +they went. I had awakened just in time; a little later, and we must have +fled in front of them, instead of escaping on one side. Even as it was, +the least misfortune might betray us; and now and again, when a grouse +rose out of the heather with a clap of wings, we lay as still as the +dead and were afraid to breathe. + +The aching and faintness of my body, the labouring of my heart, the +soreness of my hands, and the smarting of my throat and eyes in the +continual smoke of dust and ashes, had soon grown to be so unbearable +that I would gladly have given up. Nothing but the fear of Alan lent me +enough of a false kind of courage to continue. As for himself (and you +are to bear in mind that he was cumbered with a great-coat) he had first +turned crimson, but as time went on the redness began to be mingled +with patches of white; his breath cried and whistled as it came; and his +voice, when he whispered his observations in my ear during our halts, +sounded like nothing human. Yet he seemed in no way dashed in spirits, +nor did he at all abate in his activity, so that I was driven to marvel +at the man’s endurance. + +At length, in the first gloaming of the night, we heard a trumpet sound, +and looking back from among the heather, saw the troop beginning to +collect. A little after, they had built a fire and camped for the night, +about the middle of the waste. + +At this I begged and besought that we might lie down and sleep. + +“There shall be no sleep the night!” said Alan. “From now on, these +weary dragoons of yours will keep the crown of the muirland, and none +will get out of Appin but winged fowls. We got through in the nick +of time, and shall we jeopard what we’ve gained? Na, na, when the day +comes, it shall find you and me in a fast place on Ben Alder.” + +“Alan,” I said, “it’s not the want of will: it’s the strength that I +want. If I could, I would; but as sure as I’m alive I cannot.” + +“Very well, then,” said Alan. “I’ll carry ye.” + +I looked to see if he were jesting; but no, the little man was in dead +earnest; and the sight of so much resolution shamed me. + +“Lead away!” said I. “I’ll follow.” + +He gave me one look as much as to say, “Well done, David!” and off he +set again at his top speed. + +It grew cooler and even a little darker (but not much) with the coming +of the night. The sky was cloudless; it was still early in July, and +pretty far north; in the darkest part of that night, you would have +needed pretty good eyes to read, but for all that, I have often seen it +darker in a winter mid-day. Heavy dew fell and drenched the moor like +rain; and this refreshed me for a while. When we stopped to breathe, +and I had time to see all about me, the clearness and sweetness of +the night, the shapes of the hills like things asleep, and the fire +dwindling away behind us, like a bright spot in the midst of the moor, +anger would come upon me in a clap that I must still drag myself in +agony and eat the dust like a worm. + +By what I have read in books, I think few that have held a pen were ever +really wearied, or they would write of it more strongly. I had no care +of my life, neither past nor future, and I scarce remembered there was +such a lad as David Balfour. I did not think of myself, but just of each +fresh step which I was sure would be my last, with despair--and of Alan, +who was the cause of it, with hatred. Alan was in the right trade as a +soldier; this is the officer’s part to make men continue to do things, +they know not wherefore, and when, if the choice was offered, they would +lie down where they were and be killed. And I dare say I would have made +a good enough private; for in these last hours it never occurred to me +that I had any choice but just to obey as long as I was able, and die +obeying. + +Day began to come in, after years, I thought; and by that time we were +past the greatest danger, and could walk upon our feet like men, instead +of crawling like brutes. But, dear heart have mercy! what a pair we must +have made, going double like old grandfathers, stumbling like babes, +and as white as dead folk. Never a word passed between us; each set his +mouth and kept his eyes in front of him, and lifted up his foot and set +it down again, like people lifting weights at a country play;[27] all the +while, with the moorfowl crying “peep!” in the heather, and the light +coming slowly clearer in the east. + + [27] Village fair. + +I say Alan did as I did. Not that ever I looked at him, for I had enough +ado to keep my feet; but because it is plain he must have been as stupid +with weariness as myself, and looked as little where we were going, or +we should not have walked into an ambush like blind men. + +It fell in this way. We were going down a heathery brae, Alan leading +and I following a pace or two behind, like a fiddler and his wife; when +upon a sudden the heather gave a rustle, three or four ragged men leaped +out, and the next moment we were lying on our backs, each with a dirk at +his throat. + +I don’t think I cared; the pain of this rough handling was quite +swallowed up by the pains of which I was already full; and I was too +glad to have stopped walking to mind about a dirk. I lay looking up in +the face of the man that held me; and I mind his face was black with the +sun, and his eyes very light, but I was not afraid of him. I heard Alan +and another whispering in the Gaelic; and what they said was all one to +me. + +Then the dirks were put up, our weapons were taken away, and we were set +face to face, sitting in the heather. + +“They are Cluny’s men,” said Alan. “We couldnae have fallen better. +We’re just to bide here with these, which are his out-sentries, till +they can get word to the chief of my arrival.” + +Now Cluny Macpherson, the chief of the clan Vourich, had been one of the +leaders of the great rebellion six years before; there was a price on +his life; and I had supposed him long ago in France, with the rest of +the heads of that desperate party. Even tired as I was, the surprise of +what I heard half wakened me. + +“What,” I cried, “is Cluny still here?” + +“Ay, is he so!” said Alan. “Still in his own country and kept by his own +clan. King George can do no more.” + +I think I would have asked farther, but Alan gave me the put-off. “I am +rather wearied,” he said, “and I would like fine to get a sleep.” And +without more words, he rolled on his face in a deep heather bush, and +seemed to sleep at once. + +There was no such thing possible for me. You have heard grasshoppers +whirring in the grass in the summer time? Well, I had no sooner closed +my eyes, than my body, and above all my head, belly, and wrists, seemed +to be filled with whirring grasshoppers; and I must open my eyes again +at once, and tumble and toss, and sit up and lie down; and look at the +sky which dazzled me, or at Cluny’s wild and dirty sentries, peering out +over the top of the brae and chattering to each other in the Gaelic. + +That was all the rest I had, until the messenger returned; when, as it +appeared that Cluny would be glad to receive us, we must get once more +upon our feet and set forward. Alan was in excellent good spirits, much +refreshed by his sleep, very hungry, and looking pleasantly forward to +a dram and a dish of hot collops, of which, it seems, the messenger had +brought him word. For my part, it made me sick to hear of eating. I had +been dead-heavy before, and now I felt a kind of dreadful lightness, +which would not suffer me to walk. I drifted like a gossamer; the ground +seemed to me a cloud, the hills a feather-weight, the air to have a +current, like a running burn, which carried me to and fro. With all +that, a sort of horror of despair sat on my mind, so that I could have +wept at my own helplessness. + +I saw Alan knitting his brows at me, and supposed it was in anger; and +that gave me a pang of light-headed fear, like what a child may have. I +remember, too, that I was smiling, and could not stop smiling, hard as +I tried; for I thought it was out of place at such a time. But my good +companion had nothing in his mind but kindness; and the next moment, +two of the gillies had me by the arms, and I began to be carried forward +with great swiftness (or so it appeared to me, although I dare say it +was slowly enough in truth), through a labyrinth of dreary glens and +hollows and into the heart of that dismal mountain of Ben Alder. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +CLUNY’S CAGE + + +We came at last to the foot of an exceeding steep wood, which scrambled +up a craggy hillside, and was crowned by a naked precipice. + +“It’s here,” said one of the guides, and we struck up hill. + +The trees clung upon the slope, like sailors on the shrouds of a ship, +and their trunks were like the rounds of a ladder, by which we mounted. + +Quite at the top, and just before the rocky face of the cliff sprang +above the foliage, we found that strange house which was known in the +country as “Cluny’s Cage.” The trunks of several trees had been wattled +across, the intervals strengthened with stakes, and the ground behind +this barricade levelled up with earth to make the floor. A tree, which +grew out from the hillside, was the living centre-beam of the roof. +The walls were of wattle and covered with moss. The whole house had +something of an egg shape; and it half hung, half stood in that steep, +hillside thicket, like a wasp’s nest in a green hawthorn. + +Within, it was large enough to shelter five or six persons with some +comfort. A projection of the cliff had been cunningly employed to be the +fireplace; and the smoke rising against the face of the rock, and being +not dissimilar in colour, readily escaped notice from below. + +This was but one of Cluny’s hiding-places; he had caves, besides, and +underground chambers in several parts of his country; and following the +reports of his scouts, he moved from one to another as the soldiers +drew near or moved away. By this manner of living, and thanks to the +affection of his clan, he had not only stayed all this time in safety, +while so many others had fled or been taken and slain: but stayed four +or five years longer, and only went to France at last by the express +command of his master. There he soon died; and it is strange to reflect +that he may have regretted his Cage upon Ben Alder. + +When we came to the door he was seated by his rock chimney, watching a +gillie about some cookery. He was mighty plainly habited, with a knitted +nightcap drawn over his ears, and smoked a foul cutty pipe. For all that +he had the manners of a king, and it was quite a sight to see him rise +out of his place to welcome us. + +“Well, Mr. Stewart, come awa’, sir!” said he, “and bring in your friend +that as yet I dinna ken the name of.” + +“And how is yourself, Cluny?” said Alan. “I hope ye do brawly, sir. And +I am proud to see ye, and to present to ye my friend the Laird of Shaws, +Mr. David Balfour.” + +Alan never referred to my estate without a touch of a sneer, when we +were alone; but with strangers, he rang the words out like a herald. + +“Step in by, the both of ye, gentlemen,” says Cluny. “I make ye welcome +to my house, which is a queer, rude place for certain, but one where I +have entertained a royal personage, Mr. Stewart--ye doubtless ken the +personage I have in my eye. We’ll take a dram for luck, and as soon as +this handless man of mine has the collops ready, we’ll dine and take a +hand at the cartes as gentlemen should. My life is a bit driegh,” says +he, pouring out the brandy; “I see little company, and sit and twirl my +thumbs, and mind upon a great day that is gone by, and weary for another +great day that we all hope will be upon the road. And so here’s a toast +to ye: The Restoration!” + +Thereupon we all touched glasses and drank. I am sure I wished no ill +to King George; and if he had been there himself in proper person, it’s +like he would have done as I did. No sooner had I taken out the drain +than I felt hugely better, and could look on and listen, still a little +mistily perhaps, but no longer with the same groundless horror and +distress of mind. + +It was certainly a strange place, and we had a strange host. In his long +hiding, Cluny had grown to have all manner of precise habits, like those +of an old maid. He had a particular place, where no one else must sit; +the Cage was arranged in a particular way, which none must disturb; +cookery was one of his chief fancies, and even while he was greeting us +in, he kept an eye to the collops. + +It appears, he sometimes visited or received visits from his wife and +one or two of his nearest friends, under the cover of night; but for the +more part lived quite alone, and communicated only with his sentinels +and the gillies that waited on him in the Cage. The first thing in the +morning, one of them, who was a barber, came and shaved him, and gave +him the news of the country, of which he was immoderately greedy. There +was no end to his questions; he put them as earnestly as a child; and +at some of the answers, laughed out of all bounds of reason, and would +break out again laughing at the mere memory, hours after the barber was +gone. + +To be sure, there might have been a purpose in his questions; for +though he was thus sequestered, and like the other landed gentlemen of +Scotland, stripped by the late Act of Parliament of legal powers, he +still exercised a patriarchal justice in his clan. Disputes were brought +to him in his hiding-hole to be decided; and the men of his country, +who would have snapped their fingers at the Court of Session, laid +aside revenge and paid down money at the bare word of this forfeited and +hunted outlaw. When he was angered, which was often enough, he gave +his commands and breathed threats of punishment like any king; and his +gillies trembled and crouched away from him like children before a hasty +father. With each of them, as he entered, he ceremoniously shook hands, +both parties touching their bonnets at the same time in a military +manner. Altogether, I had a fair chance to see some of the inner +workings of a Highland clan; and this with a proscribed, fugitive chief; +his country conquered; the troops riding upon all sides in quest of +him, sometimes within a mile of where he lay; and when the least of the +ragged fellows whom he rated and threatened, could have made a fortune +by betraying him. + +On that first day, as soon as the collops were ready, Cluny gave them +with his own hand a squeeze of a lemon (for he was well supplied with +luxuries) and bade us draw in to our meal. + +“They,” said he, meaning the collops, “are such as I gave his Royal +Highness in this very house; bating the lemon juice, for at that time we +were glad to get the meat and never fashed for kitchen.[28] Indeed, there +were mair dragoons than lemons in my country in the year forty-six.” + + [28] Condiment. + +I do not know if the collops were truly very good, but my heart rose +against the sight of them, and I could eat but little. All the while +Cluny entertained us with stories of Prince Charlie’s stay in the Cage, +giving us the very words of the speakers, and rising from his place +to show us where they stood. By these, I gathered the Prince was a +gracious, spirited boy, like the son of a race of polite kings, but not +so wise as Solomon. I gathered, too, that while he was in the Cage, he +was often drunk; so the fault that has since, by all accounts, made such +a wreck of him, had even then begun to show itself. + +We were no sooner done eating than Cluny brought out an old, thumbed, +greasy pack of cards, such as you may find in a mean inn; and his eyes +brightened in his face as he proposed that we should fall to playing. + +Now this was one of the things I had been brought up to eschew like +disgrace; it being held by my father neither the part of a Christian +nor yet of a gentleman to set his own livelihood and fish for that of +others, on the cast of painted pasteboard. To be sure, I might have +pleaded my fatigue, which was excuse enough; but I thought it behoved +that I should bear a testimony. I must have got very red in the face, +but I spoke steadily, and told them I had no call to be a judge +of others, but for my own part, it was a matter in which I had no +clearness. + +Cluny stopped mingling the cards. “What in deil’s name is this?” says +he. “What kind of Whiggish, canting talk is this, for the house of Cluny +Macpherson?” + +“I will put my hand in the fire for Mr. Balfour,” says Alan. “He is an +honest and a mettle gentleman, and I would have ye bear in mind who says +it. I bear a king’s name,” says he, cocking his hat; “and I and any that +I call friend are company for the best. But the gentleman is tired, and +should sleep; if he has no mind to the cartes, it will never hinder you +and me. And I’m fit and willing, sir, to play ye any game that ye can +name.” + +“Sir,” says Cluny, “in this poor house of mine I would have you to ken +that any gentleman may follow his pleasure. If your friend would like to +stand on his head, he is welcome. And if either he, or you, or any other +man, is not preceesely satisfied, I will be proud to step outside with +him.” + +I had no will that these two friends should cut their throats for my +sake. + +“Sir,” said I, “I am very wearied, as Alan says; and what’s more, as +you are a man that likely has sons of your own, I may tell you it was a +promise to my father.” + +“Say nae mair, say nae mair,” said Cluny, and pointed me to a bed of +heather in a corner of the Cage. For all that he was displeased enough, +looked at me askance, and grumbled when he looked. And indeed it must +be owned that both my scruples and the words in which I declared them, +smacked somewhat of the Covenanter, and were little in their place among +wild Highland Jacobites. + +What with the brandy and the venison, a strange heaviness had come over +me; and I had scarce lain down upon the bed before I fell into a kind +of trance, in which I continued almost the whole time of our stay in the +Cage. Sometimes I was broad awake and understood what passed; sometimes +I only heard voices, or men snoring, like the voice of a silly river; +and the plaids upon the wall dwindled down and swelled out again, like +firelight shadows on the roof. I must sometimes have spoken or cried +out, for I remember I was now and then amazed at being answered; yet +I was conscious of no particular nightmare, only of a general, black, +abiding horror--a horror of the place I was in, and the bed I lay in, +and the plaids on the wall, and the voices, and the fire, and myself. + +The barber-gillie, who was a doctor too, was called in to prescribe +for me; but as he spoke in the Gaelic, I understood not a word of his +opinion, and was too sick even to ask for a translation. I knew well +enough I was ill, and that was all I cared about. + +I paid little heed while I lay in this poor pass. But Alan and Cluny +were most of the time at the cards, and I am clear that Alan must have +begun by winning; for I remember sitting up, and seeing them hard at it, +and a great glittering pile of as much as sixty or a hundred guineas on +the table. It looked strange enough, to see all this wealth in a nest +upon a cliff-side, wattled about growing trees. And even then, I +thought it seemed deep water for Alan to be riding, who had no better +battle-horse than a green purse and a matter of five pounds. + +The luck, it seems, changed on the second day. About noon I was wakened +as usual for dinner, and as usual refused to eat, and was given a dram +with some bitter infusion which the barber had prescribed. The sun was +shining in at the open door of the Cage, and this dazzled and offended +me. Cluny sat at the table, biting the pack of cards. Alan had stooped +over the bed, and had his face close to my eyes; to which, troubled as +they were with the fever, it seemed of the most shocking bigness. + +He asked me for a loan of my money. + +“What for?” said I. + +“O, just for a loan,” said he. + +“But why?” I repeated. “I don’t see.” + +“Hut, David!” said Alan, “ye wouldnae grudge me a loan?” + +I would, though, if I had had my senses! But all I thought of then was +to get his face away, and I handed him my money. + +On the morning of the third day, when we had been forty-eight hours in +the Cage, I awoke with a great relief of spirits, very weak and weary +indeed, but seeing things of the right size and with their honest, +everyday appearance. I had a mind to eat, moreover, rose from bed of my +own movement, and as soon as we had breakfasted, stepped to the entry of +the Cage and sat down outside in the top of the wood. It was a grey day +with a cool, mild air: and I sat in a dream all morning, only disturbed +by the passing by of Cluny’s scouts and servants coming with provisions +and reports; for as the coast was at that time clear, you might almost +say he held court openly. + +When I returned, he and Alan had laid the cards aside, and were +questioning a gillie; and the chief turned about and spoke to me in the +Gaelic. + +“I have no Gaelic, sir,” said I. + +Now since the card question, everything I said or did had the power of +annoying Cluny. “Your name has more sense than yourself, then,” said he +angrily, “for it’s good Gaelic. But the point is this. My scout reports +all clear in the south, and the question is, have ye the strength to +go?” + +I saw cards on the table, but no gold; only a heap of little written +papers, and these all on Cluny’s side. Alan, besides, had an odd +look, like a man not very well content; and I began to have a strong +misgiving. + +“I do not know if I am as well as I should be,” said I, looking at Alan; +“but the little money we have has a long way to carry us.” + +Alan took his under-lip into his mouth, and looked upon the ground. + +“David,” says he at last, “I’ve lost it; there’s the naked truth.” + +“My money too?” said I. + +“Your money too,” says Alan, with a groan. “Ye shouldnae have given it +me. I’m daft when I get to the cartes.” + +“Hoot-toot! hoot-toot!” said Cluny. “It was all daffing; it’s all +nonsense. Of course you’ll have your money back again, and the double of +it, if ye’ll make so free with me. It would be a singular thing for me +to keep it. It’s not to be supposed that I would be any hindrance to +gentlemen in your situation; that would be a singular thing!” cries he, +and began to pull gold out of his pocket with a mighty red face. + +Alan said nothing, only looked on the ground. + +“Will you step to the door with me, sir?” said I. + +Cluny said he would be very glad, and followed me readily enough, but he +looked flustered and put out. + +“And now, sir,” says I, “I must first acknowledge your generosity.” + +“Nonsensical nonsense!” cries Cluny. “Where’s the generosity? This is +just a most unfortunate affair; but what would ye have me do--boxed +up in this bee-skep of a cage of mine--but just set my friends to the +cartes, when I can get them? And if they lose, of course, it’s not to be +supposed----” And here he came to a pause. + +“Yes,” said I, “if they lose, you give them back their money; and if +they win, they carry away yours in their pouches! I have said before +that I grant your generosity; but to me, sir, it’s a very painful thing +to be placed in this position.” + +There was a little silence, in which Cluny seemed always as if he was +about to speak, but said nothing. All the time he grew redder and redder +in the face. + +“I am a young man,” said I, “and I ask your advice. Advise me as you +would your son. My friend fairly lost his money, after having fairly +gained a far greater sum of yours; can I accept it back again? Would +that be the right part for me to play? Whatever I do, you can see for +yourself it must be hard upon a man of any pride.” + +“It’s rather hard on me, too, Mr. Balfour,” said Cluny, “and ye give +me very much the look of a man that has entrapped poor people to their +hurt. I wouldnae have my friends come to any house of mine to accept +affronts; no,” he cried, with a sudden heat of anger, “nor yet to give +them!” + +“And so you see, sir,” said I, “there is something to be said upon my +side; and this gambling is a very poor employ for gentlefolks. But I am +still waiting your opinion.” + +I am sure if ever Cluny hated any man it was David Balfour. He looked +me all over with a warlike eye, and I saw the challenge at his lips. +But either my youth disarmed him, or perhaps his own sense of justice. +Certainly it was a mortifying matter for all concerned, and not least +Cluny; the more credit that he took it as he did. + +“Mr. Balfour,” said he, “I think you are too nice and covenanting, but +for all that you have the spirit of a very pretty gentleman. Upon my +honest word, ye may take this money--it’s what I would tell my son--and +here’s my hand along with it!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE QUARREL + + +Alan and I were put across Loch Errocht under cloud of night, and went +down its eastern shore to another hiding-place near the head of Loch +Rannoch, whither we were led by one of the gillies from the Cage. This +fellow carried all our luggage and Alan’s great-coat in the bargain, +trotting along under the burthen, far less than the half of which used +to weigh me to the ground, like a stout hill pony with a feather; yet he +was a man that, in plain contest, I could have broken on my knee. + +Doubtless it was a great relief to walk disencumbered; and perhaps +without that relief, and the consequent sense of liberty and lightness, +I could not have walked at all. I was but new risen from a bed of +sickness; and there was nothing in the state of our affairs to hearten +me for much exertion; travelling, as we did, over the most dismal +deserts in Scotland, under a cloudy heaven, and with divided hearts +among the travellers. + +For long, we said nothing; marching alongside or one behind the other, +each with a set countenance: I, angry and proud, and drawing what +strength I had from these two violent and sinful feelings; Alan angry +and ashamed, ashamed that he had lost my money, angry that I should take +it so ill. + +The thought of a separation ran always the stronger in my mind; and the +more I approved of it, the more ashamed I grew of my approval. It would +be a fine, handsome, generous thing, indeed, for Alan to turn round and +say to me: “Go, I am in the most danger, and my company only increases +yours.” But for me to turn to the friend who certainly loved me, and say +to him: “You are in great danger, I am in but little; your friendship +is a burden; go, take your risks and bear your hardships alone----” no, +that was impossible; and even to think of it privily to myself, made my +cheeks to burn. + +And yet Alan had behaved like a child, and (what is worse) a treacherous +child. Wheedling my money from me while I lay half-conscious was scarce +better than theft; and yet here he was trudging by my side, without a +penny to his name, and by what I could see, quite blithe to sponge upon +the money he had driven me to beg. True, I was ready to share it with +him; but it made me rage to see him count upon my readiness. + +These were the two things uppermost in my mind; and I could open my +mouth upon neither without black ungenerosity. So I did the next worst, +and said nothing, nor so much as looked once at my companion, save with +the tail of my eye. + +At last, upon the other side of Loch Errocht, going over a smooth, rushy +place, where the walking was easy, he could bear it no longer, and came +close to me. + +“David,” says he, “this is no way for two friends to take a small +accident. I have to say that I’m sorry; and so that’s said. And now if +you have anything, ye’d better say it.” + +“O,” says I, “I have nothing.” + +He seemed disconcerted; at which I was meanly pleased. + +“No,” said he, with rather a trembling voice, “but when I say I was to +blame?” + +“Why, of course, ye were to blame,” said I, coolly; “and you will bear +me out that I have never reproached you.” + +“Never,” says he; “but ye ken very well that ye’ve done worse. Are we to +part? Ye said so once before. Are ye to say it again? There’s hills and +heather enough between here and the two seas, David; and I will own I’m +no very keen to stay where I’m no wanted.” + +This pierced me like a sword, and seemed to lay bare my private +disloyalty. + +“Alan Breck!” I cried; and then: “Do you think I am one to turn my +back on you in your chief need? You dursn’t say it to my face. My whole +conduct’s there to give the lie to it. It’s true, I fell asleep upon +the muir; but that was from weariness, and you do wrong to cast it up to +me----” + +“Which is what I never did,” said Alan. + +“But aside from that,” I continued, “what have I done that you should +even me to dogs by such a supposition? I never yet failed a friend, and +it’s not likely I’ll begin with you. There are things between us that I +can never forget, even if you can.” + +“I will only say this to ye, David,” said Alan, very quietly, “that I +have long been owing ye my life, and now I owe ye money. Ye should try +to make that burden light for me.” + +This ought to have touched me, and in a manner it did, but the wrong +manner. I felt I was behaving badly; and was now not only angry with +Alan, but angry with myself in the bargain; and it made me the more +cruel. + +“You asked me to speak,” said I. “Well, then, I will. You own yourself +that you have done me a disservice; I have had to swallow an affront: I +have never reproached you, I never named the thing till you did. And +now you blame me,” cried I, “because I cannae laugh and sing as if I was +glad to be affronted. The next thing will be that I’m to go down upon my +knees and thank you for it! Ye should think more of others, Alan +Breck. If ye thought more of others, ye would perhaps speak less about +yourself; and when a friend that likes you very well has passed over an +offence without a word, you would be blithe to let it lie, instead of +making it a stick to break his back with. By your own way of it, it was +you that was to blame; then it shouldnae be you to seek the quarrel.” + +“Aweel,” said Alan, “say nae mair.” + +And we fell back into our former silence; and came to our journey’s end, +and supped, and lay down to sleep, without another word. + +The gillie put us across Loch Rannoch in the dusk of the next day, and +gave us his opinion as to our best route. This was to get us up at once +into the tops of the mountains: to go round by a circuit, turning the +heads of Glen Lyon, Glen Lochay, and Glen Dochart, and come down upon +the lowlands by Kippen and the upper waters of the Forth. Alan was +little pleased with a route which led us through the country of his +blood-foes, the Glenorchy Campbells. He objected that by turning to the +east, we should come almost at once among the Athole Stewarts, a race of +his own name and lineage, although following a different chief, and come +besides by a far easier and swifter way to the place whither we were +bound. But the gillie, who was indeed the chief man of Cluny’s scouts, +had good reasons to give him on all hands, naming the force of troops +in every district, and alleging finally (as well as I could understand) +that we should nowhere be so little troubled as in a country of the +Campbells. + +Alan gave way at last, but with only half a heart. “It’s one of the +dowiest countries in Scotland,” said he. “There’s naething there that I +ken, but heath, and crows, and Campbells. But I see that ye’re a man of +some penetration; and be it as ye please!” + +We set forth accordingly by this itinerary; and for the best part of +three nights travelled on eerie mountains and among the well-heads of +wild rivers; often buried in mist, almost continually blown and rained +upon, and not once cheered by any glimpse of sunshine. By day, we lay +and slept in the drenching heather; by night, incessantly clambered upon +break-neck hills and among rude crags. We often wandered; we were often +so involved in fog, that we must lie quiet till it lightened. A fire was +never to be thought of. Our only food was drammach and a portion of cold +meat that we had carried from the Cage; and as for drink, Heaven knows +we had no want of water. + +This was a dreadful time, rendered the more dreadful by the gloom of +the weather and the country. I was never warm; my teeth chattered in my +head; I was troubled with a very sore throat, such as I had on the isle; +I had a painful stitch in my side, which never left me; and when I slept +in my wet bed, with the rain beating above and the mud oozing below me, +it was to live over again in fancy the worst part of my adventures--to +see the tower of Shaws lit by lightning, Ransome carried below on the +men’s backs, Shuan dying on the round-house floor, or Colin Campbell +grasping at the bosom of his coat. From such broken slumbers, I would be +aroused in the gloaming, to sit up in the same puddle where I had slept, +and sup cold drammach; the rain driving sharp in my face or running +down my back in icy trickles; the mist enfolding us like as in a gloomy +chamber--or, perhaps, if the wind blew, falling suddenly apart and +showing us the gulf of some dark valley where the streams were crying +aloud. + +The sound of an infinite number of rivers came up from all round. In +this steady rain the springs of the mountain were broken up; every glen +gushed water like a cistern; every stream was in high spate, and had +filled and overflowed its channel. During our night tramps, it was +solemn to hear the voice of them below in the valleys, now booming like +thunder, now with an angry cry. I could well understand the story of the +Water Kelpie, that demon of the streams, who is fabled to keep wailing +and roaring at the ford until the coming of the doomed traveller. Alan I +saw believed it, or half believed it; and when the cry of the river rose +more than usually sharp, I was little surprised (though, of course, I +would still be shocked) to see him cross himself in the manner of the +Catholics. + +During all these horrid wanderings we had no familiarity, scarcely even +that of speech. The truth is that I was sickening for my grave, which +is my best excuse. But besides that I was of an unforgiving disposition +from my birth, slow to take offence, slower to forget it, and now +incensed both against my companion and myself. For the best part of two +days he was unweariedly kind; silent, indeed, but always ready to help, +and always hoping (as I could very well see) that my displeasure would +blow by. For the same length of time I stayed in myself, nursing my +anger, roughly refusing his services, and passing him over with my eyes +as if he had been a bush or a stone. + +The second night, or rather the peep of the third day, found us upon a +very open hill, so that we could not follow our usual plan and lie down +immediately to eat and sleep. Before we had reached a place of shelter, +the grey had come pretty clear, for though it still rained, the clouds +ran higher; and Alan, looking in my face, showed some marks of concern. + +“Ye had better let me take your pack,” said he, for perhaps the ninth +time since we had parted from the scout beside Loch Rannoch. + +“I do very well, I thank you,” said I, as cold as ice. + +Alan flushed darkly. “I’ll not offer it again,” he said. “I’m not a +patient man, David.” + +“I never said you were,” said I, which was exactly the rude, silly +speech of a boy of ten. + +Alan made no answer at the time, but his conduct answered for him. +Henceforth, it is to be thought, he quite forgave himself for the affair +at Cluny’s; cocked his hat again, walked jauntily, whistled airs, and +looked at me upon one side with a provoking smile. + +The third night we were to pass through the western end of the country +of Balquhidder. It came clear and cold, with a touch in the air like +frost, and a northerly wind that blew the clouds away and made the stars +bright. The streams were full, of course, and still made a great noise +among the hills; but I observed that Alan thought no more upon the +Kelpie, and was in high good spirits. As for me, the change of weather +came too late; I had lain in the mire so long that (as the Bible has it) +my very clothes “abhorred me.” I was dead weary, deadly sick and full +of pains and shiverings; the chill of the wind went through me, and the +sound of it confused my ears. In this poor state I had to bear from +my companion something in the nature of a persecution. He spoke a good +deal, and never without a taunt. “Whig” was the best name he had to give +me. “Here,” he would say, “here’s a dub for ye to jump, my Whiggie! I +ken you’re a fine jumper!” And so on; all the time with a gibing voice +and face. + +I knew it was my own doing, and no one else’s; but I was too miserable +to repent. I felt I could drag myself but little farther; pretty soon, I +must lie down and die on these wet mountains like a sheep or a fox, and +my bones must whiten there like the bones of a beast. My head was light +perhaps; but I began to love the prospect, I began to glory in the +thought of such a death, alone in the desert, with the wild eagles +besieging my last moments. Alan would repent then, I thought; he would +remember, when I was dead, how much he owed me, and the remembrance +would be torture. So I went like a sick, silly, and bad-hearted +schoolboy, feeding my anger against a fellow-man, when I would have +been better on my knees, crying on God for mercy. And at each of Alan’s +taunts, I hugged myself. “Ah!” thinks I to myself, “I have a better +taunt in readiness; when I lie down and die, you will feel it like a +buffet in your face; ah, what a revenge! ah, how you will regret your +ingratitude and cruelty!” + +All the while, I was growing worse and worse. Once I had fallen, my leg +simply doubling under me, and this had struck Alan for the moment; but I +was afoot so briskly, and set off again with such a natural manner, +that he soon forgot the incident. Flushes of heat went over me, and then +spasms of shuddering. The stitch in my side was hardly bearable. At last +I began to feel that I could trail myself no farther: and with that, +there came on me all at once the wish to have it out with Alan, let my +anger blaze, and be done with my life in a more sudden manner. He had +just called me “Whig.” I stopped. + +“Mr. Stewart,” said I, in a voice that quivered like a fiddle-string, +“you are older than I am, and should know your manners. Do you think +it either very wise or very witty to cast my politics in my teeth? I +thought, where folk differed, it was the part of gentlemen to differ +civilly; and if I did not, I may tell you I could find a better taunt +than some of yours.” + +Alan had stopped opposite to me, his hat cocked, his hands in his +breeches pockets, his head a little on one side. He listened, smiling +evilly, as I could see by the starlight; and when I had done he began to +whistle a Jacobite air. It was the air made in mockery of General Cope’s +defeat at Preston Pans: + + “Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin’ yet? + And are your drums a-beatin’ yet?” + +And it came in my mind that Alan, on the day of that battle, had been +engaged upon the royal side. + +“Why do ye take that air, Mr. Stewart?” said I. “Is that to remind me +you have been beaten on both sides?” + +The air stopped on Alan’s lips. “David!” said he. + +“But it’s time these manners ceased,” I continued; “and I mean you shall +henceforth speak civilly of my King and my good friends the Campbells.” + +“I am a Stewart--” began Alan. + +“O!” says I, “I ken ye bear a king’s name. But you are to remember, +since I have been in the Highlands, I have seen a good many of those +that bear it; and the best I can say of them is this, that they would be +none the worse of washing.” + +“Do you know that you insult me?” said Alan, very low. + +“I am sorry for that,” said I, “for I am not done; and if you distaste +the sermon, I doubt the pirliecue[29] will please you as little. You have +been chased in the field by the grown men of my party; it seems a poor +kind of pleasure to out-face a boy. Both the Campbells and the Whigs +have beaten you; you have run before them like a hare. It behoves you to +speak of them as of your betters.” + + [29] A second sermon. + +Alan stood quite still, the tails of his great-coat clapping behind him +in the wind. + +“This is a pity,” he said at last. “There are things said that cannot be +passed over.” + +“I never asked you to,” said I. “I am as ready as yourself.” + +“Ready?” said he. + +“Ready,” I repeated. “I am no blower and boaster like some that I could +name. Come on!” And drawing my sword, I fell on guard as Alan himself +had taught me. + +“David!” he cried. “Are ye daft? I cannae draw upon ye, David. It’s +fair murder.” + +“That was your look-out when you insulted me,” said I. + +“It’s the truth!” cried Alan, and he stood for a moment, wringing his +mouth in his hand like a man in sore perplexity. “It’s the bare truth,” + he said, and drew his sword. But before I could touch his blade with +mine, he had thrown it from him and fallen to the ground. “Na, na,” he +kept saying, “na, na--I cannae, I cannae.” + +At this the last of my anger oozed all out of me; and I found myself +only sick, and sorry, and blank, and wondering at myself. I would have +given the world to take back what I had said; but a word once spoken, +who can recapture it? I minded me of all Alan’s kindness and courage in +the past, how he had helped and cheered and borne with me in our evil +days; and then recalled my own insults, and saw that I had lost for ever +that doughty friend. At the same time, the sickness that hung upon +me seemed to redouble, and the pang in my side was like a sword for +sharpness. I thought I must have swooned where I stood. + +This it was that gave me a thought. No apology could blot out what I had +said; it was needless to think of one, none could cover the offence; but +where an apology was vain, a mere cry for help might bring Alan back to +my side. I put my pride away from me. “Alan!” I said; “if ye cannae help +me, I must just die here.” + +He started up sitting, and looked at me. + +“It’s true,” said I. “I’m by with it. O, let me get into the bield of a +house--I’ll can die there easier.” I had no need to pretend; whether I +chose or not, I spoke in a weeping voice that would have melted a heart +of stone. + +“Can ye walk?” asked Alan. + +“No,” said I, “not without help. This last hour my legs have been +fainting under me; I’ve a stitch in my side like a red-hot iron; I +cannae breathe right. If I die, ye’ll can forgive me, Alan? In my heart, +I liked ye fine--even when I was the angriest.” + +“Wheesht, wheesht!” cried Alan. “Dinna say that! David man, ye ken--” He +shut his mouth upon a sob. “Let me get my arm about ye,” he continued; +“that’s the way! Now lean upon me hard. Gude kens where there’s a house! +We’re in Balwhidder, too; there should be no want of houses, no, nor +friends’ houses here. Do ye gang easier so, Davie?” + +“Ay,” said I, “I can be doing this way;” and I pressed his arm with my +hand. + +Again he came near sobbing. “Davie,” said he, “I’m no a right man at +all; I have neither sense nor kindness; I could nae remember ye were +just a bairn, I couldnae see ye were dying on your feet; Davie, ye’ll +have to try and forgive me.” + +“O man, let’s say no more about it!” said I. “We’re neither one of us +to mend the other--that’s the truth! We must just bear and forbear, man +Alan. O, but my stitch is sore! Is there nae house?” + +“I’ll find a house to ye, David,” he said, stoutly. “We’ll follow down +the burn, where there’s bound to be houses. My poor man, will ye no be +better on my back?” + +“O, Alan,” says I, “and me a good twelve inches taller?” + +“Ye’re no such a thing,” cried Alan, with a start. “There may be a +trifling matter of an inch or two; I’m no saying I’m just exactly what +ye would call a tall man, whatever; and I dare say,” he added, his voice +tailing off in a laughable manner, “now when I come to think of it, I +dare say ye’ll be just about right. Ay, it’ll be a foot, or near hand; +or may be even mair!” + +It was sweet and laughable to hear Alan eat his words up in the fear of +some fresh quarrel. I could have laughed, had not my stitch caught me so +hard; but if I had laughed, I think I must have wept too. + +“Alan,” cried I, “what makes ye so good to me? What makes ye care for +such a thankless fellow?” + +“‘Deed, and I don’t know” said Alan. “For just precisely what I thought +I liked about ye, was that ye never quarrelled:--and now I like ye +better!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +IN BALQUHIDDER + + +At the door of the first house we came to, Alan knocked, which was of +no very safe enterprise in such a part of the Highlands as the Braes of +Balquhidder. No great clan held rule there; it was filled and disputed +by small septs, and broken remnants, and what they call “chiefless +folk,” driven into the wild country about the springs of Forth and Teith +by the advance of the Campbells. Here were Stewarts and Maclarens, which +came to the same thing, for the Maclarens followed Alan’s chief in war, +and made but one clan with Appin. Here, too, were many of that old, +proscribed, nameless, red-handed clan of the Macgregors. They had always +been ill-considered, and now worse than ever, having credit with no side +or party in the whole country of Scotland. Their chief, Macgregor of +Macgregor, was in exile; the more immediate leader of that part of them +about Balquhidder, James More, Rob Roy’s eldest son, lay waiting his +trial in Edinburgh Castle; they were in ill-blood with Highlander and +Lowlander, with the Grahames, the Maclarens, and the Stewarts; and Alan, +who took up the quarrel of any friend, however distant, was extremely +wishful to avoid them. + +Chance served us very well; for it was a household of Maclarens that we +found, where Alan was not only welcome for his name’s sake but known +by reputation. Here then I was got to bed without delay, and a doctor +fetched, who found me in a sorry plight. But whether because he was a +very good doctor, or I a very young, strong man, I lay bedridden for no +more than a week, and before a month I was able to take the road again +with a good heart. + +All this time Alan would not leave me though I often pressed him, and +indeed his foolhardiness in staying was a common subject of outcry with +the two or three friends that were let into the secret. He hid by day +in a hole of the braes under a little wood; and at night, when the coast +was clear, would come into the house to visit me. I need not say if I +was pleased to see him; Mrs. Maclaren, our hostess, thought nothing good +enough for such a guest; and as Duncan Dhu (which was the name of our +host) had a pair of pipes in his house, and was much of a lover of +music, this time of my recovery was quite a festival, and we commonly +turned night into day. + +The soldiers let us be; although once a party of two companies and some +dragoons went by in the bottom of the valley, where I could see them +through the window as I lay in bed. What was much more astonishing, no +magistrate came near me, and there was no question put of whence I came +or whither I was going; and in that time of excitement, I was as free of +all inquiry as though I had lain in a desert. Yet my presence was known +before I left to all the people in Balquhidder and the adjacent parts; +many coming about the house on visits and these (after the custom of the +country) spreading the news among their neighbours. The bills, too, had +now been printed. There was one pinned near the foot of my bed, where +I could read my own not very flattering portrait and, in larger +characters, the amount of the blood money that had been set upon my +life. Duncan Dhu and the rest that knew that I had come there in Alan’s +company, could have entertained no doubt of who I was; and many others +must have had their guess. For though I had changed my clothes, I could +not change my age or person; and Lowland boys of eighteen were not so +rife in these parts of the world, and above all about that time, that +they could fail to put one thing with another, and connect me with the +bill. So it was, at least. Other folk keep a secret among two or three +near friends, and somehow it leaks out; but among these clansmen, it is +told to a whole countryside, and they will keep it for a century. + +There was but one thing happened worth narrating; and that is the visit +I had of Robin Oig, one of the sons of the notorious Rob Roy. He was +sought upon all sides on a charge of carrying a young woman from +Balfron and marrying her (as was alleged) by force; yet he stepped about +Balquhidder like a gentleman in his own walled policy. It was he who had +shot James Maclaren at the plough stilts, a quarrel never satisfied; yet +he walked into the house of his blood enemies as a rider[30] might into a +public inn. + + [30] Commercial traveller. + +Duncan had time to pass me word of who it was; and we looked at one +another in concern. You should understand, it was then close upon the +time of Alan’s coming; the two were little likely to agree; and yet if +we sent word or sought to make a signal, it was sure to arouse suspicion +in a man under so dark a cloud as the Macgregor. + +He came in with a great show of civility, but like a man among +inferiors; took off his bonnet to Mrs. Maclaren, but clapped it on his +head again to speak to Duncan; and having thus set himself (as he would +have thought) in a proper light, came to my bedside and bowed. + +“I am given to know, sir,” says he, “that your name is Balfour.” + +“They call me David Balfour,” said I, “at your service.” + +“I would give ye my name in return, sir,” he replied, “but it’s one +somewhat blown upon of late days; and it’ll perhaps suffice if I tell +ye that I am own brother to James More Drummond or Macgregor, of whom ye +will scarce have failed to hear.” + +“No, sir,” said I, a little alarmed; “nor yet of your father, +Macgregor-Campbell.” And I sat up and bowed in bed; for I thought best +to compliment him, in case he was proud of having had an outlaw to his +father. + +He bowed in return. “But what I am come to say, sir,” he went on, “is +this. In the year ‘45, my brother raised a part of the ‘Gregara’ and +marched six companies to strike a stroke for the good side; and the +surgeon that marched with our clan and cured my brother’s leg when it +was broken in the brush at Preston Pans, was a gentleman of the same +name precisely as yourself. He was brother to Balfour of Baith; and if +you are in any reasonable degree of nearness one of that gentleman’s +kin, I have come to put myself and my people at your command.” + +You are to remember that I knew no more of my descent than any cadger’s +dog; my uncle, to be sure, had prated of some of our high connections, +but nothing to the present purpose; and there was nothing left me but +that bitter disgrace of owning that I could not tell. + +Robin told me shortly he was sorry he had put himself about, turned his +back upon me without a sign of salutation, and as he went towards the +door, I could hear him telling Duncan that I was “only some kinless loon +that didn’t know his own father.” Angry as I was at these words, and +ashamed of my own ignorance, I could scarce keep from smiling that a +man who was under the lash of the law (and was indeed hanged some three +years later) should be so nice as to the descent of his acquaintances. + +Just in the door, he met Alan coming in; and the two drew back and +looked at each other like strange dogs. They were neither of them big +men, but they seemed fairly to swell out with pride. Each wore a sword, +and by a movement of his haunch, thrust clear the hilt of it, so that it +might be the more readily grasped and the blade drawn. + +“Mr. Stewart, I am thinking,” says Robin. + +“Troth, Mr. Macgregor, it’s not a name to be ashamed of,” answered Alan. + +“I did not know ye were in my country, sir,” says Robin. + +“It sticks in my mind that I am in the country of my friends the +Maclarens,” says Alan. + +“That’s a kittle point,” returned the other. “There may be two words to +say to that. But I think I will have heard that you are a man of your +sword?” + +“Unless ye were born deaf, Mr. Macgregor, ye will have heard a good deal +more than that,” says Alan. “I am not the only man that can draw steel +in Appin; and when my kinsman and captain, Ardshiel, had a talk with a +gentleman of your name, not so many years back, I could never hear that +the Macgregor had the best of it.” + +“Do ye mean my father, sir?” says Robin. + +“Well, I wouldnae wonder,” said Alan. “The gentleman I have in my mind +had the ill-taste to clap Campbell to his name.” + +“My father was an old man,” returned Robin. + +“The match was unequal. You and me would make a better pair, sir.” + +“I was thinking that,” said Alan. + +I was half out of bed, and Duncan had been hanging at the elbow of these +fighting cocks, ready to intervene upon the least occasion. But when +that word was uttered, it was a case of now or never; and Duncan, with +something of a white face to be sure, thrust himself between. + +“Gentlemen,” said he, “I will have been thinking of a very different +matter, whateffer. Here are my pipes, and here are you two gentlemen who +are baith acclaimed pipers. It’s an auld dispute which one of ye’s the +best. Here will be a braw chance to settle it.” + +“Why, sir,” said Alan, still addressing Robin, from whom indeed he had +not so much as shifted his eyes, nor yet Robin from him, “why, sir,” + says Alan, “I think I will have heard some sough[31] of the sort. Have ye +music, as folk say? Are ye a bit of a piper?” + + [31] Rumour. + +“I can pipe like a Macrimmon!” cries Robin. + +“And that is a very bold word,” quoth Alan. + +“I have made bolder words good before now,” returned Robin, “and that +against better adversaries.” + +“It is easy to try that,” says Alan. + +Duncan Dhu made haste to bring out the pair of pipes that was his +principal possession, and to set before his guests a mutton-ham and a +bottle of that drink which they call Athole brose, and which is made of +old whiskey, strained honey and sweet cream, slowly beaten together in +the right order and proportion. The two enemies were still on the very +breach of a quarrel; but down they sat, one upon each side of the peat +fire, with a mighty show of politeness. Maclaren pressed them to taste +his mutton-ham and “the wife’s brose,” reminding them the wife was out +of Athole and had a name far and wide for her skill in that confection. +But Robin put aside these hospitalities as bad for the breath. + +“I would have ye to remark, sir,” said Alan, “that I havenae broken +bread for near upon ten hours, which will be worse for the breath than +any brose in Scotland.” + +“I will take no advantages, Mr. Stewart,” replied Robin. “Eat and drink; +I’ll follow you.” + +Each ate a small portion of the ham and drank a glass of the brose to +Mrs. Maclaren; and then after a great number of civilities, Robin took +the pipes and played a little spring in a very ranting manner. + +“Ay, ye can blow” said Alan; and taking the instrument from his rival, +he first played the same spring in a manner identical with Robin’s; and +then wandered into variations, which, as he went on, he decorated with +a perfect flight of grace-notes, such as pipers love, and call the +“warblers.” + +I had been pleased with Robin’s playing, Alan’s ravished me. + +“That’s no very bad, Mr. Stewart,” said the rival, “but ye show a poor +device in your warblers.” + +“Me!” cried Alan, the blood starting to his face. “I give ye the lie.” + +“Do ye own yourself beaten at the pipes, then,” said Robin, “that ye +seek to change them for the sword?” + +“And that’s very well said, Mr. Macgregor,” returned Alan; “and in the +meantime” (laying a strong accent on the word) “I take back the lie. I +appeal to Duncan.” + +“Indeed, ye need appeal to naebody,” said Robin. “Ye’re a far better +judge than any Maclaren in Balquhidder: for it’s a God’s truth that +you’re a very creditable piper for a Stewart. Hand me the pipes.” Alan +did as he asked; and Robin proceeded to imitate and correct some part of +Alan’s variations, which it seemed that he remembered perfectly. + +“Ay, ye have music,” said Alan, gloomily. + +“And now be the judge yourself, Mr. Stewart,” said Robin; and taking up +the variations from the beginning, he worked them throughout to so new a +purpose, with such ingenuity and sentiment, and with so odd a fancy and +so quick a knack in the grace-notes, that I was amazed to hear him. + +As for Alan, his face grew dark and hot, and he sat and gnawed his +fingers, like a man under some deep affront. “Enough!” he cried. “Ye can +blow the pipes--make the most of that.” And he made as if to rise. + +But Robin only held out his hand as if to ask for silence, and struck +into the slow measure of a pibroch. It was a fine piece of music in +itself, and nobly played; but it seems, besides, it was a piece peculiar +to the Appin Stewarts and a chief favourite with Alan. The first notes +were scarce out, before there came a change in his face; when the time +quickened, he seemed to grow restless in his seat; and long before that +piece was at an end, the last signs of his anger died from him, and he +had no thought but for the music. + +“Robin Oig,” he said, when it was done, “ye are a great piper. I am not +fit to blow in the same kingdom with ye. Body of me! ye have mair music +in your sporran than I have in my head! And though it still sticks in +my mind that I could maybe show ye another of it with the cold steel, +I warn ye beforehand--it’ll no be fair! It would go against my heart to +haggle a man that can blow the pipes as you can!” + +Thereupon that quarrel was made up; all night long the brose was going +and the pipes changing hands; and the day had come pretty bright, and +the three men were none the better for what they had been taking, before +Robin as much as thought upon the road. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH + + +The month, as I have said, was not yet out, but it was already far +through August, and beautiful warm weather, with every sign of an early +and great harvest, when I was pronounced able for my journey. Our money +was now run to so low an ebb that we must think first of all on speed; +for if we came not soon to Mr. Rankeillor’s, or if when we came there he +should fail to help me, we must surely starve. In Alan’s view, besides, +the hunt must have now greatly slackened; and the line of the Forth and +even Stirling Bridge, which is the main pass over that river, would be +watched with little interest. + +“It’s a chief principle in military affairs,” said he, “to go where +ye are least expected. Forth is our trouble; ye ken the saying, ‘Forth +bridles the wild Hielandman.’ Well, if we seek to creep round about +the head of that river and come down by Kippen or Balfron, it’s just +precisely there that they’ll be looking to lay hands on us. But if we +stave on straight to the auld Brig of Stirling, I’ll lay my sword they +let us pass unchallenged.” + +The first night, accordingly, we pushed to the house of a Maclaren in +Strathire, a friend of Duncan’s, where we slept the twenty-first of the +month, and whence we set forth again about the fall of night to make +another easy stage. The twenty-second we lay in a heather bush on the +hillside in Uam Var, within view of a herd of deer, the happiest ten +hours of sleep in a fine, breathing sunshine and on bone-dry ground, +that I have ever tasted. That night we struck Allan Water, and followed +it down; and coming to the edge of the hills saw the whole Carse of +Stirling underfoot, as flat as a pancake, with the town and castle on a +hill in the midst of it, and the moon shining on the Links of Forth. + +“Now,” said Alan, “I kenna if ye care, but ye’re in your own land again. +We passed the Hieland Line in the first hour; and now if we could but +pass yon crooked water, we might cast our bonnets in the air.” + +In Allan Water, near by where it falls into the Forth, we found a little +sandy islet, overgrown with burdock, butterbur and the like low plants, +that would just cover us if we lay flat. Here it was we made our camp, +within plain view of Stirling Castle, whence we could hear the drums +beat as some part of the garrison paraded. Shearers worked all day in +a field on one side of the river, and we could hear the stones going +on the hooks and the voices and even the words of the men talking. It +behoved to lie close and keep silent. But the sand of the little isle +was sun-warm, the green plants gave us shelter for our heads, we had +food and drink in plenty; and to crown all, we were within sight of +safety. + +As soon as the shearers quit their work and the dusk began to fall, +we waded ashore and struck for the Bridge of Stirling, keeping to the +fields and under the field fences. + +The bridge is close under the castle hill, an old, high, narrow bridge +with pinnacles along the parapet; and you may conceive with how much +interest I looked upon it, not only as a place famous in history, but as +the very doors of salvation to Alan and myself. The moon was not yet up +when we came there; a few lights shone along the front of the fortress, +and lower down a few lighted windows in the town; but it was all mighty +still, and there seemed to be no guard upon the passage. + +I was for pushing straight across; but Alan was more wary. + +“It looks unco’ quiet,” said he; “but for all that we’ll lie down here +cannily behind a dyke, and make sure.” + +So we lay for about a quarter of an hour, whiles whispering, whiles +lying still and hearing nothing earthly but the washing of the water on +the piers. At last there came by an old, hobbling woman with a crutch +stick; who first stopped a little, close to where we lay, and bemoaned +herself and the long way she had travelled; and then set forth again up +the steep spring of the bridge. The woman was so little, and the night +still so dark, that we soon lost sight of her; only heard the sound of +her steps, and her stick, and a cough that she had by fits, draw slowly +farther away. + +“She’s bound to be across now,” I whispered. + +“Na,” said Alan, “her foot still sounds boss[32] upon the bridge.” + + [32] Hollow. + +And just then--“Who goes?” cried a voice, and we heard the butt of +a musket rattle on the stones. I must suppose the sentry had been +sleeping, so that had we tried, we might have passed unseen; but he was +awake now, and the chance forfeited. + +“This’ll never do,” said Alan. “This’ll never, never do for us, David.” + +And without another word, he began to crawl away through the fields; and +a little after, being well out of eye-shot, got to his feet again, and +struck along a road that led to the eastward. I could not conceive what +he was doing; and indeed I was so sharply cut by the disappointment, +that I was little likely to be pleased with anything. A moment back +and I had seen myself knocking at Mr. Rankeillor’s door to claim my +inheritance, like a hero in a ballad; and here was I back again, a +wandering, hunted blackguard, on the wrong side of Forth. + +“Well?” said I. + +“Well,” said Alan, “what would ye have? They’re none such fools as I +took them for. We have still the Forth to pass, Davie--weary fall the +rains that fed and the hillsides that guided it!” + +“And why go east?” said I. + +“Ou, just upon the chance!” said he. “If we cannae pass the river, we’ll +have to see what we can do for the firth.” + +“There are fords upon the river, and none upon the firth,” said I. + +“To be sure there are fords, and a bridge forbye,” quoth Alan; “and of +what service, when they are watched?” + +“Well,” said I, “but a river can be swum.” + +“By them that have the skill of it,” returned he; “but I have yet to +hear that either you or me is much of a hand at that exercise; and for +my own part, I swim like a stone.” + +“I’m not up to you in talking back, Alan,” I said; “but I can see we’re +making bad worse. If it’s hard to pass a river, it stands to reason it +must be worse to pass a sea.” + +“But there’s such a thing as a boat,” says Alan, “or I’m the more +deceived.” + +“Ay, and such a thing as money,” says I. “But for us that have neither +one nor other, they might just as well not have been invented.” + +“Ye think so?” said Alan. + +“I do that,” said I. + +“David,” says he, “ye’re a man of small invention and less faith. But +let me set my wits upon the hone, and if I cannae beg, borrow, nor yet +steal a boat, I’ll make one!” + +“I think I see ye!” said I. “And what’s more than all that: if ye pass a +bridge, it can tell no tales; but if we pass the firth, there’s the boat +on the wrong side--somebody must have brought it--the country-side will +all be in a bizz---” + +“Man!” cried Alan, “if I make a boat, I’ll make a body to take it back +again! So deave me with no more of your nonsense, but walk (for that’s +what you’ve got to do)--and let Alan think for ye.” + +All night, then, we walked through the north side of the Carse under +the high line of the Ochil mountains; and by Alloa and Clackmannan and +Culross, all of which we avoided: and about ten in the morning, mighty +hungry and tired, came to the little clachan of Limekilns. This is a +place that sits near in by the water-side, and looks across the Hope to +the town of the Queensferry. Smoke went up from both of these, and from +other villages and farms upon all hands. The fields were being reaped; +two ships lay anchored, and boats were coming and going on the Hope. +It was altogether a right pleasant sight to me; and I could not take +my fill of gazing at these comfortable, green, cultivated hills and the +busy people both of the field and sea. + +For all that, there was Mr. Rankeillor’s house on the south shore, where +I had no doubt wealth awaited me; and here was I upon the north, clad in +poor enough attire of an outlandish fashion, with three silver shillings +left to me of all my fortune, a price set upon my head, and an outlawed +man for my sole company. + +“O, Alan!” said I, “to think of it! Over there, there’s all that heart +could want waiting me; and the birds go over, and the boats go over--all +that please can go, but just me only! O, man, but it’s a heart-break!” + +In Limekilns we entered a small change-house, which we only knew to be a +public by the wand over the door, and bought some bread and cheese from +a good-looking lass that was the servant. This we carried with us in a +bundle, meaning to sit and eat it in a bush of wood on the sea-shore, +that we saw some third part of a mile in front. As we went, I kept +looking across the water and sighing to myself; and though I took no +heed of it, Alan had fallen into a muse. At last he stopped in the way. + +“Did ye take heed of the lass we bought this of?” says he, tapping on +the bread and cheese. + +“To be sure,” said I, “and a bonny lass she was.” + +“Ye thought that?” cries he. “Man, David, that’s good news.” + +“In the name of all that’s wonderful, why so?” says I. “What good can +that do?” + +“Well,” said Alan, with one of his droll looks, “I was rather in hopes +it would maybe get us that boat.” + +“If it were the other way about, it would be liker it,” said I. + +“That’s all that you ken, ye see,” said Alan. “I don’t want the lass to +fall in love with ye, I want her to be sorry for ye, David; to which end +there is no manner of need that she should take you for a beauty. Let me +see” (looking me curiously over). “I wish ye were a wee thing paler; but +apart from that ye’ll do fine for my purpose--ye have a fine, hang-dog, +rag-and-tatter, clappermaclaw kind of a look to ye, as if ye had +stolen the coat from a potato-bogle. Come; right about, and back to the +change-house for that boat of ours.” + +I followed him, laughing. + +“David Balfour,” said he, “ye’re a very funny gentleman by your way of +it, and this is a very funny employ for ye, no doubt. For all that, if +ye have any affection for my neck (to say nothing of your own) ye will +perhaps be kind enough to take this matter responsibly. I am going to +do a bit of play-acting, the bottom ground of which is just exactly as +serious as the gallows for the pair of us. So bear it, if ye please, in +mind, and conduct yourself according.” + +“Well, well,” said I, “have it as you will.” + +As we got near the clachan, he made me take his arm and hang upon it +like one almost helpless with weariness; and by the time he pushed +open the change-house door, he seemed to be half carrying me. The maid +appeared surprised (as well she might be) at our speedy return; but +Alan had no words to spare for her in explanation, helped me to a chair, +called for a tass of brandy with which he fed me in little sips, +and then breaking up the bread and cheese helped me to eat it like +a nursery-lass; the whole with that grave, concerned, affectionate +countenance, that might have imposed upon a judge. It was small wonder +if the maid were taken with the picture we presented, of a poor, sick, +overwrought lad and his most tender comrade. She drew quite near, and +stood leaning with her back on the next table. + +“What’s like wrong with him?” said she at last. + +Alan turned upon her, to my great wonder, with a kind of fury. “Wrong?” + cries he. “He’s walked more hundreds of miles than he has hairs upon his +chin, and slept oftener in wet heather than dry sheets. Wrong, quo’ she! +Wrong enough, I would think! Wrong, indeed!” and he kept grumbling to +himself as he fed me, like a man ill-pleased. + +“He’s young for the like of that,” said the maid. + +“Ower young,” said Alan, with his back to her. + +“He would be better riding,” says she. + +“And where could I get a horse to him?” cried Alan, turning on her with +the same appearance of fury. “Would ye have me steal?” + +I thought this roughness would have sent her off in dudgeon, as indeed +it closed her mouth for the time. But my companion knew very well what +he was doing; and for as simple as he was in some things of life, had a +great fund of roguishness in such affairs as these. + +“Ye neednae tell me,” she said at last--“ye’re gentry.” + +“Well,” said Alan, softened a little (I believe against his will) by +this artless comment, “and suppose we were? Did ever you hear that +gentrice put money in folk’s pockets?” + +She sighed at this, as if she were herself some disinherited great lady. +“No,” says she, “that’s true indeed.” + +I was all this while chafing at the part I played, and sitting +tongue-tied between shame and merriment; but somehow at this I could +hold in no longer, and bade Alan let me be, for I was better already. My +voice stuck in my throat, for I ever hated to take part in lies; but my +very embarrassment helped on the plot, for the lass no doubt set down my +husky voice to sickness and fatigue. + +“Has he nae friends?” said she, in a tearful voice. + +“That has he so!” cried Alan, “if we could but win to them!--friends and +rich friends, beds to lie in, food to eat, doctors to see to him--and +here he must tramp in the dubs and sleep in the heather like a +beggarman.” + +“And why that?” says the lass. + +“My dear,” said Alan, “I cannae very safely say; but I’ll tell ye what +I’ll do instead,” says he, “I’ll whistle ye a bit tune.” And with that +he leaned pretty far over the table, and in a mere breath of a whistle, +but with a wonderful pretty sentiment, gave her a few bars of “Charlie +is my darling.” + +“Wheesht,” says she, and looked over her shoulder to the door. + +“That’s it,” said Alan. + +“And him so young!” cries the lass. + +“He’s old enough to----” and Alan struck his forefinger on the back part +of his neck, meaning that I was old enough to lose my head. + +“It would be a black shame,” she cried, flushing high. + +“It’s what will be, though,” said Alan, “unless we manage the better.” + +At this the lass turned and ran out of that part of the house, leaving +us alone together. Alan in high good humour at the furthering of his +schemes, and I in bitter dudgeon at being called a Jacobite and treated +like a child. + +“Alan,” I cried, “I can stand no more of this.” + +“Ye’ll have to sit it then, Davie,” said he. “For if ye upset the pot +now, ye may scrape your own life out of the fire, but Alan Breck is a +dead man.” + +This was so true that I could only groan; and even my groan served +Alan’s purpose, for it was overheard by the lass as she came flying in +again with a dish of white puddings and a bottle of strong ale. + +“Poor lamb!” says she, and had no sooner set the meat before us, than +she touched me on the shoulder with a little friendly touch, as much as +to bid me cheer up. Then she told us to fall to, and there would be no +more to pay; for the inn was her own, or at least her father’s, and he +was gone for the day to Pittencrieff. We waited for no second bidding, +for bread and cheese is but cold comfort and the puddings smelt +excellently well; and while we sat and ate, she took up that same place +by the next table, looking on, and thinking, and frowning to herself, +and drawing the string of her apron through her hand. + +“I’m thinking ye have rather a long tongue,” she said at last to Alan. + +“Ay” said Alan; “but ye see I ken the folk I speak to.” + +“I would never betray ye,” said she, “if ye mean that.” + +“No,” said he, “ye’re not that kind. But I’ll tell ye what ye would do, +ye would help.” + +“I couldnae,” said she, shaking her head. “Na, I couldnae.” + +“No,” said he, “but if ye could?” + +She answered him nothing. + +“Look here, my lass,” said Alan, “there are boats in the Kingdom of +Fife, for I saw two (no less) upon the beach, as I came in by your +town’s end. Now if we could have the use of a boat to pass under cloud +of night into Lothian, and some secret, decent kind of a man to bring +that boat back again and keep his counsel, there would be two souls +saved--mine to all likelihood--his to a dead surety. If we lack that +boat, we have but three shillings left in this wide world; and where +to go, and how to do, and what other place there is for us except the +chains of a gibbet--I give you my naked word, I kenna! Shall we go +wanting, lassie? Are ye to lie in your warm bed and think upon us, when +the wind gowls in the chimney and the rain tirls on the roof? Are ye to +eat your meat by the cheeks of a red fire, and think upon this poor sick +lad of mine, biting his finger ends on a blae muir for cauld and hunger? +Sick or sound, he must aye be moving; with the death grapple at his +throat he must aye be trailing in the rain on the lang roads; and when +he gants his last on a rickle of cauld stanes, there will be nae friends +near him but only me and God.” + +At this appeal, I could see the lass was in great trouble of mind, +being tempted to help us, and yet in some fear she might be helping +malefactors; and so now I determined to step in myself and to allay her +scruples with a portion of the truth. + +“Did ever you hear,” said I, “of Mr. Rankeillor of the Ferry?” + +“Rankeillor the writer?” said she. “I daur say that!” + +“Well,” said I, “it’s to his door that I am bound, so you may judge by +that if I am an ill-doer; and I will tell you more, that though I am +indeed, by a dreadful error, in some peril of my life, King George has +no truer friend in all Scotland than myself.” + +Her face cleared up mightily at this, although Alan’s darkened. + +“That’s more than I would ask,” said she. “Mr. Rankeillor is a kennt +man.” And she bade us finish our meat, get clear of the clachan as soon +as might be, and lie close in the bit wood on the sea-beach. “And ye can +trust me,” says she, “I’ll find some means to put you over.” + +At this we waited for no more, but shook hands with her upon the +bargain, made short work of the puddings, and set forth again from +Limekilns as far as to the wood. It was a small piece of perhaps a score +of elders and hawthorns and a few young ashes, not thick enough to veil +us from passersby upon the road or beach. Here we must lie, however, +making the best of the brave warm weather and the good hopes we now had +of a deliverance, and planing more particularly what remained for us to +do. + +We had but one trouble all day; when a strolling piper came and sat in +the same wood with us; a red-nosed, bleareyed, drunken dog, with a great +bottle of whisky in his pocket, and a long story of wrongs that had been +done him by all sorts of persons, from the Lord President of the +Court of Session, who had denied him justice, down to the Bailies of +Inverkeithing who had given him more of it than he desired. It was +impossible but he should conceive some suspicion of two men lying all +day concealed in a thicket and having no business to allege. As long as +he stayed there he kept us in hot water with prying questions; and after +he was gone, as he was a man not very likely to hold his tongue, we were +in the greater impatience to be gone ourselves. + +The day came to an end with the same brightness; the night fell quiet +and clear; lights came out in houses and hamlets and then, one after +another, began to be put out; but it was past eleven, and we were long +since strangely tortured with anxieties, before we heard the grinding +of oars upon the rowing-pins. At that, we looked out and saw the lass +herself coming rowing to us in a boat. She had trusted no one with our +affairs, not even her sweetheart, if she had one; but as soon as her +father was asleep, had left the house by a window, stolen a neighbour’s +boat, and come to our assistance single-handed. + +I was abashed how to find expression for my thanks; but she was no less +abashed at the thought of hearing them; begged us to lose no time and to +hold our peace, saying (very properly) that the heart of our matter was +in haste and silence; and so, what with one thing and another, she had +set us on the Lothian shore not far from Carriden, had shaken hands with +us, and was out again at sea and rowing for Limekilns, before there was +one word said either of her service or our gratitude. + +Even after she was gone, we had nothing to say, as indeed nothing was +enough for such a kindness. Only Alan stood a great while upon the shore +shaking his head. + +“It is a very fine lass,” he said at last. “David, it is a very fine +lass.” And a matter of an hour later, as we were lying in a den on +the sea-shore and I had been already dozing, he broke out again in +commendations of her character. For my part, I could say nothing, she +was so simple a creature that my heart smote me both with remorse and +fear: remorse because we had traded upon her ignorance; and fear lest we +should have anyway involved her in the dangers of our situation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR + + +The next day it was agreed that Alan should fend for himself till +sunset; but as soon as it began to grow dark, he should lie in the +fields by the roadside near to Newhalls, and stir for naught until he +heard me whistling. At first I proposed I should give him for a signal +the “Bonnie House of Airlie,” which was a favourite of mine; but he +objected that as the piece was very commonly known, any ploughman might +whistle it by accident; and taught me instead a little fragment of a +Highland air, which has run in my head from that day to this, and will +likely run in my head when I lie dying. Every time it comes to me, it +takes me off to that last day of my uncertainty, with Alan sitting up in +the bottom of the den, whistling and beating the measure with a finger, +and the grey of the dawn coming on his face. + +I was in the long street of Queensferry before the sun was up. It was a +fairly built burgh, the houses of good stone, many slated; the town-hall +not so fine, I thought, as that of Peebles, nor yet the street so noble; +but take it altogether, it put me to shame for my foul tatters. + + + +As the morning went on, and the fires began to be kindled, and the +windows to open, and the people to appear out of the houses, my concern +and despondency grew ever the blacker. I saw now that I had no grounds +to stand upon; and no clear proof of my rights, nor so much as of my own +identity. If it was all a bubble, I was indeed sorely cheated and left +in a sore pass. Even if things were as I conceived, it would in all +likelihood take time to establish my contentions; and what time had I +to spare with less than three shillings in my pocket, and a condemned, +hunted man upon my hands to ship out of the country? Truly, if my hope +broke with me, it might come to the gallows yet for both of us. And as I +continued to walk up and down, and saw people looking askance at me upon +the street or out of windows, and nudging or speaking one to another +with smiles, I began to take a fresh apprehension: that it might be no +easy matter even to come to speech of the lawyer, far less to convince +him of my story. + +For the life of me I could not muster up the courage to address any of +these reputable burghers; I thought shame even to speak with them in +such a pickle of rags and dirt; and if I had asked for the house of such +a man as Mr. Rankeillor, I suppose they would have burst out laughing in +my face. So I went up and down, and through the street, and down to +the harbour-side, like a dog that has lost its master, with a strange +gnawing in my inwards, and every now and then a movement of despair. +It grew to be high day at last, perhaps nine in the forenoon; and I was +worn with these wanderings, and chanced to have stopped in front of +a very good house on the landward side, a house with beautiful, clear +glass windows, flowering knots upon the sills, the walls new-harled[33] and +a chase-dog sitting yawning on the step like one that was at home. Well, +I was even envying this dumb brute, when the door fell open and +there issued forth a shrewd, ruddy, kindly, consequential man in a +well-powdered wig and spectacles. I was in such a plight that no one set +eyes on me once, but he looked at me again; and this gentleman, as it +proved, was so much struck with my poor appearance that he came straight +up to me and asked me what I did. + + [33] Newly rough-cast. + +I told him I was come to the Queensferry on business, and taking heart +of grace, asked him to direct me to the house of Mr. Rankeillor. + +“Why,” said he, “that is his house that I have just come out of; and for +a rather singular chance, I am that very man.” + +“Then, sir,” said I, “I have to beg the favour of an interview.” + +“I do not know your name,” said he, “nor yet your face.” + +“My name is David Balfour,” said I. + +“David Balfour?” he repeated, in rather a high tone, like one surprised. +“And where have you come from, Mr. David Balfour?” he asked, looking me +pretty drily in the face. + +“I have come from a great many strange places, sir,” said I; “but I +think it would be as well to tell you where and how in a more private +manner.” + +He seemed to muse awhile, holding his lip in his hand, and looking now +at me and now upon the causeway of the street. + +“Yes,” says he, “that will be the best, no doubt.” And he led me back +with him into his house, cried out to some one whom I could not see +that he would be engaged all morning, and brought me into a little +dusty chamber full of books and documents. Here he sate down, and bade +me be seated; though I thought he looked a little ruefully from his +clean chair to my muddy rags. “And now,” says he, “if you have any +business, pray be brief and come swiftly to the point. _Nec gemino +bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo_--do you understand that?” says he, with +a keen look. + +“I will even do as Horace says, sir,” I answered, smiling, “and carry +you _in medias res_.” He nodded as if he was well pleased, and indeed +his scrap of Latin had been set to test me. For all that, and though I +was somewhat encouraged, the blood came in my face when I added: “I +have reason to believe myself some rights on the estate of Shaws.” + +He got a paper book out of a drawer and set it before him open. “Well?” + said he. + +But I had shot my bolt and sat speechless. + +“Come, come, Mr. Balfour,” said he, “you must continue. Where were you +born?” + +“In Essendean, sir,” said I, “the year 1733, the 12th of March.” + +He seemed to follow this statement in his paper book; but what that +meant I knew not. “Your father and mother?” said he. + +“My father was Alexander Balfour, schoolmaster of that place,” said I, +“and my mother Grace Pitarrow; I think her people were from Angus.” + +“Have you any papers proving your identity?” asked Mr. Rankeillor. + +“No, sir,” said I, “but they are in the hands of Mr. Campbell, the +minister, and could be readily produced. Mr. Campbell, too, would give +me his word; and for that matter, I do not think my uncle would deny +me.” + +“Meaning Mr. Ebenezer Balfour?” says he. + +“The same,” said I. + +“Whom you have seen?” he asked. + +“By whom I was received into his own house,” I answered. + +“Did you ever meet a man of the name of Hoseason?” asked Mr. Rankeillor. + +“I did so, sir, for my sins,” said I; “for it was by his means and the +procurement of my uncle, that I was kidnapped within sight of this town, +carried to sea, suffered shipwreck and a hundred other hardships, and +stand before you to-day in this poor accoutrement.” + +“You say you were shipwrecked,” said Rankeillor; “where was that?” + +“Off the south end of the Isle of Mull,” said I. “The name of the isle +on which I was cast up is the Island Earraid.” + +“Ah!” says he, smiling, “you are deeper than me in the geography. But so +far, I may tell you, this agrees pretty exactly with other informations +that I hold. But you say you were kidnapped; in what sense?” + +“In the plain meaning of the word, sir,” said I. “I was on my way to +your house, when I was trepanned on board the brig, cruelly struck down, +thrown below, and knew no more of anything till we were far at sea. I +was destined for the plantations; a fate that, in God’s providence, I +have escaped.” + +“The brig was lost on June the 27th,” says he, looking in his book, +“and we are now at August the 24th. Here is a considerable hiatus, Mr. +Balfour, of near upon two months. It has already caused a vast amount +of trouble to your friends; and I own I shall not be very well contented +until it is set right.” + +“Indeed, sir,” said I, “these months are very easily filled up; but yet +before I told my story, I would be glad to know that I was talking to a +friend.” + +“This is to argue in a circle,” said the lawyer. “I cannot be convinced +till I have heard you. I cannot be your friend till I am properly +informed. If you were more trustful, it would better befit your time of +life. And you know, Mr. Balfour, we have a proverb in the country that +evil-doers are aye evil-dreaders.” + +“You are not to forget, sir,” said I, “that I have already suffered by +my trustfulness; and was shipped off to be a slave by the very man that +(if I rightly understand) is your employer?” + +All this while I had been gaining ground with Mr. Rankeillor, and in +proportion as I gained ground, gaining confidence. But at this sally, +which I made with something of a smile myself, he fairly laughed aloud. + +“No, no,” said he, “it is not so bad as that. _Fui, non sum_. I was +indeed your uncle’s man of business; but while you (_imberbis juvenis +custode remoto_) were gallivanting in the west, a good deal of water +has run under the bridges; and if your ears did not sing, it was not +for lack of being talked about. On the very day of your sea disaster, +Mr. Campbell stalked into my office, demanding you from all the winds. +I had never heard of your existence; but I had known your father; and +from matters in my competence (to be touched upon hereafter) I was +disposed to fear the worst. Mr. Ebenezer admitted having seen you; +declared (what seemed improbable) that he had given you considerable +sums; and that you had started for the continent of Europe, intending +to fulfil your education, which was probable and praiseworthy. +Interrogated how you had come to send no word to Mr. Campbell, he +deponed that you had expressed a great desire to break with your past +life. Further interrogated where you now were, protested ignorance, but +believed you were in Leyden. That is a close sum of his replies. I am +not exactly sure that any one believed him,” continued Mr. Rankeillor +with a smile; “and in particular he so much disrelished me expressions +of mine that (in a word) he showed me to the door. We were then at a +full stand; for whatever shrewd suspicions we might entertain, we had +no shadow of probation. In the very article, comes Captain Hoseason +with the story of your drowning; whereupon all fell through; with no +consequences but concern to Mr. Campbell, injury to my pocket, and +another blot upon your uncle’s character, which could very ill afford +it. And now, Mr. Balfour,” said he, “you understand the whole process +of these matters, and can judge for yourself to what extent I may be +trusted.” + +Indeed he was more pedantic than I can represent him, and placed more +scraps of Latin in his speech; but it was all uttered with a fine +geniality of eye and manner which went far to conquer my distrust. +Moreover, I could see he now treated me as if I was myself beyond a +doubt; so that first point of my identity seemed fully granted. + +“Sir,” said I, “if I tell you my story, I must commit a friend’s life +to your discretion. Pass me your word it shall be sacred; and for what +touches myself, I will ask no better guarantee than just your face.” + +He passed me his word very seriously. “But,” said he, “these are rather +alarming prolocutions; and if there are in your story any little jostles +to the law, I would beg you to bear in mind that I am a lawyer, and pass +lightly.” + +Thereupon I told him my story from the first, he listening with his +spectacles thrust up and his eyes closed, so that I sometimes feared +he was asleep. But no such matter! he heard every word (as I found +afterward) with such quickness of hearing and precision of memory as +often surprised me. Even strange outlandish Gaelic names, heard for that +time only, he remembered and would remind me of, years after. Yet when I +called Alan Breck in full, we had an odd scene. The name of Alan had of +course rung through Scotland, with the news of the Appin murder and the +offer of the reward; and it had no sooner escaped me than the lawyer +moved in his seat and opened his eyes. + +“I would name no unnecessary names, Mr. Balfour,” said he; “above all of +Highlanders, many of whom are obnoxious to the law.” + +“Well, it might have been better not,” said I, “but since I have let it +slip, I may as well continue.” + +“Not at all,” said Mr. Rankeillor. “I am somewhat dull of hearing, as +you may have remarked; and I am far from sure I caught the name exactly. +We will call your friend, if you please, Mr. Thomson--that there may +be no reflections. And in future, I would take some such way with any +Highlander that you may have to mention--dead or alive.” + +By this, I saw he must have heard the name all too clearly, and had +already guessed I might be coming to the murder. If he chose to play +this part of ignorance, it was no matter of mine; so I smiled, said it +was no very Highland-sounding name, and consented. Through all the rest +of my story Alan was Mr. Thomson; which amused me the more, as it was a +piece of policy after his own heart. James Stewart, in like manner, +was mentioned under the style of Mr. Thomson’s kinsman; Colin Campbell +passed as a Mr. Glen; and to Cluny, when I came to that part of my tale, +I gave the name of “Mr. Jameson, a Highland chief.” It was truly the +most open farce, and I wondered that the lawyer should care to keep it +up; but, after all, it was quite in the taste of that age, when there +were two parties in the state, and quiet persons, with no very high +opinions of their own, sought out every cranny to avoid offence to +either. + +“Well, well,” said the lawyer, when I had quite done, “this is a great +epic, a great Odyssey of yours. You must tell it, sir, in a sound +Latinity when your scholarship is riper; or in English if you please, +though for my part I prefer the stronger tongue. You have rolled much; +_quæ regio in terris_--what parish in Scotland (to make a homely +translation) has not been filled with your wanderings? You have shown, +besides, a singular aptitude for getting into false positions; and, +yes, upon the whole, for behaving well in them. This Mr. Thomson seems +to me a gentleman of some choice qualities, though perhaps a trifle +bloody-minded. It would please me none the worse, if (with all his +merits) he were soused in the North Sea, for the man, Mr. David, is a +sore embarrassment. But you are doubtless quite right to adhere to him; +indubitably, he adhered to you. _It comes_--we may say--he was your +true companion; nor less _paribus curis vestigia figit_, for I dare say +you would both take an orra thought upon the gallows. Well, well, these +days are fortunately by; and I think (speaking humanly) that you are +near the end of your troubles.” + +As he thus moralised on my adventures, he looked upon me with so much +humour and benignity that I could scarce contain my satisfaction. I had +been so long wandering with lawless people, and making my bed upon the +hills and under the bare sky, that to sit once more in a clean, covered +house, and to talk amicably with a gentleman in broadcloth, seemed +mighty elevations. Even as I thought so, my eye fell on my unseemly +tatters, and I was once more plunged in confusion. But the lawyer saw +and understood me. He rose, called over the stair to lay another plate, +for Mr. Balfour would stay to dinner, and led me into a bedroom in the +upper part of the house. Here he set before me water and soap, and a +comb; and laid out some clothes that belonged to his son; and here, with +another apposite tag, he left me to my toilet. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE + + +Having made what change I could in my appearance; and blithe was I to look in +the glass and find the beggarman a thing of the past, and David Balfour +come to life again. And yet I was ashamed of the change too, and, above +all, of the borrowed clothes. When I had done, Mr. Rankeillor caught +me on the stair, made me his compliments, and had me again into the +cabinet. + +“Sit ye down, Mr. David,” said he, “and now that you are looking a +little more like yourself, let me see if I can find you any news. You +will be wondering, no doubt, about your father and your uncle? To be +sure it is a singular tale; and the explanation is one that I blush to +have to offer you. For,” says he, really with embarrassment, “the matter +hinges on a love affair.” + +“Truly,” said I, “I cannot very well join that notion with my uncle.” + +“But your uncle, Mr. David, was not always old,” replied the lawyer, +“and what may perhaps surprise you more, not always ugly. He had a fine, +gallant air; people stood in their doors to look after him, as he +went by upon a mettle horse. I have seen it with these eyes, and I +ingenuously confess, not altogether without envy; for I was a plain lad +myself and a plain man’s son; and in those days it was a case of _Odi +te, qui bellus es, Sabelle_.” + +“It sounds like a dream,” said I. + +“Ay, ay,” said the lawyer, “that is how it is with youth and age. Nor +was that all, but he had a spirit of his own that seemed to promise +great things in the future. In 1715, what must he do but run away to +join the rebels? It was your father that pursued him, found him in a +ditch, and brought him back _multum gementem;_ to the mirth of the +whole country. However, _majora canamus_--the two lads fell in love, +and that with the same lady. Mr. Ebenezer, who was the admired and the +beloved, and the spoiled one, made, no doubt, mighty certain of the +victory; and when he found he had deceived himself, screamed like a +peacock. The whole country heard of it; now he lay sick at home, with +his silly family standing round the bed in tears; now he rode from +public-house to public-house, and shouted his sorrows into the lug of +Tom, Dick, and Harry. Your father, Mr. David, was a kind gentleman; but +he was weak, dolefully weak; took all this folly with a long +countenance; and one day--by your leave!--resigned the lady. She was no +such fool, however; it’s from her you must inherit your excellent good +sense; and she refused to be bandied from one to another. Both got upon +their knees to her; and the upshot of the matter for that while was +that she showed both of them the door. That was in August; dear me! the +same year I came from college. The scene must have been highly +farcical.” + +I thought myself it was a silly business, but I could not forget my +father had a hand in it. “Surely, sir, it had some note of tragedy,” + said I. + +“Why, no, sir, not at all,” returned the lawyer. “For tragedy implies +some ponderable matter in dispute, some _dignus vindice nodus;_ and +this piece of work was all about the petulance of a young ass that had +been spoiled, and wanted nothing so much as to be tied up and soundly +belted. However, that was not your father’s view; and the end of it +was, that from concession to concession on your father’s part, and from +one height to another of squalling, sentimental selfishness upon your +uncle’s, they came at last to drive a sort of bargain, from whose ill +results you have recently been smarting. The one man took the lady, the +other the estate. Now, Mr. David, they talk a great deal of charity and +generosity; but in this disputable state of life, I often think the +happiest consequences seem to flow when a gentleman consults his +lawyer, and takes all the law allows him. Anyhow, this piece of +Quixotry on your father’s part, as it was unjust in itself, has brought +forth a monstrous family of injustices. Your father and mother lived +and died poor folk; you were poorly reared; and in the meanwhile, what +a time it has been for the tenants on the estate of Shaws! And I might +add (if it was a matter I cared much about) what a time for Mr. +Ebenezer!” + +“And yet that is certainly the strangest part of all,” said I, “that a +man’s nature should thus change.” + +“True,” said Mr. Rankeillor. “And yet I imagine it was natural enough. +He could not think that he had played a handsome part. Those who knew +the story gave him the cold shoulder; those who knew it not, seeing one +brother disappear, and the other succeed in the estate, raised a cry of +murder; so that upon all sides he found himself evited. Money was all +he got by his bargain; well, he came to think the more of money. He was +selfish when he was young, he is selfish now that he is old; and the +latter end of all these pretty manners and fine feelings you have seen +for yourself.” + +“Well, sir,” said I, “and in all this, what is my position?” + +“The estate is yours beyond a doubt,” replied the lawyer. “It matters +nothing what your father signed, you are the heir of entail. But your +uncle is a man to fight the indefensible; and it would be likely your +identity that he would call in question. A lawsuit is always expensive, +and a family lawsuit always scandalous; besides which, if any of your +doings with your friend Mr. Thomson were to come out, we might find that +we had burned our fingers. The kidnapping, to be sure, would be a court +card upon our side, if we could only prove it. But it may be difficult +to prove; and my advice (upon the whole) is to make a very easy bargain +with your uncle, perhaps even leaving him at Shaws where he has +taken root for a quarter of a century, and contenting yourself in the +meanwhile with a fair provision.” + +I told him I was very willing to be easy, and that to carry family +concerns before the public was a step from which I was naturally much +averse. In the meantime (thinking to myself) I began to see the outlines +of that scheme on which we afterwards acted. + +“The great affair,” I asked, “is to bring home to him the kidnapping?” + +“Surely,” said Mr. Rankeillor, “and if possible, out of court. For mark +you here, Mr. David: we could no doubt find some men of the _Covenant_ +who would swear to your reclusion; but once they were in the box, we +could no longer check their testimony, and some word of your friend Mr. +Thomson must certainly crop out. Which (from what you have let fall) I +cannot think to be desirable.” + +“Well, sir,” said I, “here is my way of it.” And I opened my plot to +him. + +“But this would seem to involve my meeting the man Thomson?” says he, +when I had done. + +“I think so, indeed, sir,” said I. + +“Dear doctor!” cries he, rubbing his brow. “Dear doctor! No, Mr. David, +I am afraid your scheme is inadmissible. I say nothing against your +friend, Mr. Thomson: I know nothing against him; and if I did--mark +this, Mr. David!--it would be my duty to lay hands on him. Now I put it +to you: is it wise to meet? He may have matters to his charge. He may +not have told you all. His name may not be even Thomson!” cries the +lawyer, twinkling; “for some of these fellows will pick up names by the +roadside as another would gather haws.” + +“You must be the judge, sir,” said I. + +But it was clear my plan had taken hold upon his fancy, for he kept +musing to himself till we were called to dinner and the company of Mrs. +Rankeillor; and that lady had scarce left us again to ourselves and a +bottle of wine, ere he was back harping on my proposal. When and where +was I to meet my friend Mr. Thomson; was I sure of Mr. T.’s discretion; +supposing we could catch the old fox tripping, would I consent to such +and such a term of an agreement--these and the like questions he kept +asking at long intervals, while he thoughtfully rolled his wine upon his +tongue. When I had answered all of them, seemingly to his contentment, +he fell into a still deeper muse, even the claret being now forgotten. +Then he got a sheet of paper and a pencil, and set to work writing and +weighing every word; and at last touched a bell and had his clerk into +the chamber. + +“Torrance,” said he, “I must have this written out fair against +to-night; and when it is done, you will be so kind as put on your hat +and be ready to come along with this gentleman and me, for you will +probably be wanted as a witness.” + +“What, sir,” cried I, as soon as the clerk was gone, “are you to venture +it?” + +“Why, so it would appear,” says he, filling his glass. “But let us speak +no more of business. The very sight of Torrance brings in my head a +little droll matter of some years ago, when I had made a tryst with the +poor oaf at the cross of Edinburgh. Each had gone his proper errand; and +when it came four o’clock, Torrance had been taking a glass and did +not know his master, and I, who had forgot my spectacles, was so blind +without them, that I give you my word I did not know my own clerk.” And +thereupon he laughed heartily. + +I said it was an odd chance, and smiled out of politeness; but what held +me all the afternoon in wonder, he kept returning and dwelling on this +story, and telling it again with fresh details and laughter; so that I +began at last to be quite put out of countenance and feel ashamed for my +friend’s folly. + +Towards the time I had appointed with Alan, we set out from the house, +Mr. Rankeillor and I arm in arm, and Torrance following behind with the +deed in his pocket and a covered basket in his hand. All through the +town, the lawyer was bowing right and left, and continually being +button-holed by gentlemen on matters of burgh or private business; and I +could see he was one greatly looked up to in the county. At last we were +clear of the houses, and began to go along the side of the haven and +towards the Hawes Inn and the Ferry pier, the scene of my misfortune. I +could not look upon the place without emotion, recalling how many that +had been there with me that day were now no more: Ransome taken, I could +hope, from the evil to come; Shuan passed where I dared not follow him; +and the poor souls that had gone down with the brig in her last plunge. +All these, and the brig herself, I had outlived; and come through these +hardships and fearful perils without scath. My only thought should have +been of gratitude; and yet I could not behold the place without sorrow +for others and a chill of recollected fear. + +I was so thinking when, upon a sudden, Mr. Rankeillor cried out, clapped +his hand to his pockets, and began to laugh. + +“Why,” he cries, “if this be not a farcical adventure! After all that I +said, I have forgot my glasses!” + +At that, of course, I understood the purpose of his anecdote, and knew +that if he had left his spectacles at home, it had been done on purpose, +so that he might have the benefit of Alan’s help without the awkwardness +of recognising him. And indeed it was well thought upon; for now +(suppose things to go the very worst) how could Rankeillor swear to +my friend’s identity, or how be made to bear damaging evidence against +myself? For all that, he had been a long while of finding out his want, +and had spoken to and recognised a good few persons as we came through +the town; and I had little doubt myself that he saw reasonably well. + +As soon as we were past the Hawes (where I recognised the landlord +smoking his pipe in the door, and was amazed to see him look no older) +Mr. Rankeillor changed the order of march, walking behind with Torrance +and sending me forward in the manner of a scout. I went up the hill, +whistling from time to time my Gaelic air; and at length I had the +pleasure to hear it answered and to see Alan rise from behind a bush. He +was somewhat dashed in spirits, having passed a long day alone skulking +in the county, and made but a poor meal in an alehouse near Dundas. But +at the mere sight of my clothes, he began to brighten up; and as soon as +I had told him in what a forward state our matters were and the part I +looked to him to play in what remained, he sprang into a new man. + +“And that is a very good notion of yours,” says he; “and I dare to say +that you could lay your hands upon no better man to put it through than +Alan Breck. It is not a thing (mark ye) that any one could do, but takes +a gentleman of penetration. But it sticks in my head your lawyer-man +will be somewhat wearying to see me,” says Alan. + +Accordingly I cried and waved on Mr. Rankeillor, who came up alone and +was presented to my friend, Mr. Thomson. + +“Mr. Thomson, I am pleased to meet you,” said he. “But I have forgotten +my glasses; and our friend, Mr. David here” (clapping me on the +shoulder), “will tell you that I am little better than blind, and that +you must not be surprised if I pass you by to-morrow.” + +This he said, thinking that Alan would be pleased; but the Highlandman’s +vanity was ready to startle at a less matter than that. + +“Why, sir,” says he, stiffly, “I would say it mattered the less as we +are met here for a particular end, to see justice done to Mr. Balfour; +and by what I can see, not very likely to have much else in common. But +I accept your apology, which was a very proper one to make.” + +“And that is more than I could look for, Mr. Thomson,” said Rankeillor, +heartily. “And now as you and I are the chief actors in this enterprise, +I think we should come into a nice agreement; to which end, I propose +that you should lend me your arm, for (what with the dusk and the want +of my glasses) I am not very clear as to the path; and as for you, Mr. +David, you will find Torrance a pleasant kind of body to speak with. +Only let me remind you, it’s quite needless he should hear more of your +adventures or those of--ahem--Mr. Thomson.” + +Accordingly these two went on ahead in very close talk, and Torrance and +I brought up the rear. + +Night was quite come when we came in view of the house of Shaws. Ten +had been gone some time; it was dark and mild, with a pleasant, rustling +wind in the south-west that covered the sound of our approach; and as we +drew near we saw no glimmer of light in any portion of the building. It +seemed my uncle was already in bed, which was indeed the best thing for +our arrangements. We made our last whispered consultations some fifty +yards away; and then the lawyer and Torrance and I crept quietly up and +crouched down beside the corner of the house; and as soon as we were +in our places, Alan strode to the door without concealment and began to +knock. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +I COME INTO MY KINGDOM + + +For some time Alan volleyed upon the door, and his knocking only roused +the echoes of the house and neighbourhood. At last, however, I could +hear the noise of a window gently thrust up, and knew that my uncle +had come to his observatory. By what light there was, he would see Alan +standing, like a dark shadow, on the steps; the three witnesses were +hidden quite out of his view; so that there was nothing to alarm an +honest man in his own house. For all that, he studied his visitor awhile +in silence, and when he spoke his voice had a quaver of misgiving. + +“What’s this?” says he. “This is nae kind of time of night for decent +folk; and I hae nae trokings[34] wi’ night-hawks. What brings ye here? I +have a blunderbush.” + + [34] Dealings. + +“Is that yoursel’, Mr. Balfour?” returned Alan, stepping back and +looking up into the darkness. “Have a care of that blunderbuss; they’re +nasty things to burst.” + +“What brings ye here? and whae are ye?” says my uncle, angrily. + +“I have no manner of inclination to rowt out my name to the +country-side,” said Alan; “but what brings me here is another story, +being more of your affair than mine; and if ye’re sure it’s what ye +would like, I’ll set it to a tune and sing it to you.” + +“And what is’t?” asked my uncle. + +“David,” says Alan. + +“What was that?” cried my uncle, in a mighty changed voice. + +“Shall I give ye the rest of the name, then?” said Alan. + +There was a pause; and then, “I’m thinking I’ll better let ye in,” says +my uncle, doubtfully. + +“I dare say that,” said Alan; “but the point is, Would I go? Now I will +tell you what I am thinking. I am thinking that it is here upon this +doorstep that we must confer upon this business; and it shall be here or +nowhere at all whatever; for I would have you to understand that I am as +stiffnecked as yoursel’, and a gentleman of better family.” + +This change of note disconcerted Ebenezer; he was a little while +digesting it, and then says he, “Weel, weel, what must be must,” and +shut the window. But it took him a long time to get down-stairs, and a +still longer to undo the fastenings, repenting (I dare say) and taken +with fresh claps of fear at every second step and every bolt and bar. At +last, however, we heard the creak of the hinges, and it seems my uncle +slipped gingerly out and (seeing that Alan had stepped back a pace or +two) sate him down on the top doorstep with the blunderbuss ready in his +hands. + +“And, now” says he, “mind I have my blunderbush, and if ye take a step +nearer ye’re as good as deid.” + +“And a very civil speech,” says Alan, “to be sure.” + +“Na,” says my uncle, “but this is no a very chanty kind of a proceeding, +and I’m bound to be prepared. And now that we understand each other, +ye’ll can name your business.” + +“Why,” says Alan, “you that are a man of so much understanding, will +doubtless have perceived that I am a Hieland gentleman. My name has nae +business in my story; but the county of my friends is no very far from +the Isle of Mull, of which ye will have heard. It seems there was a +ship lost in those parts; and the next day a gentleman of my family was +seeking wreck-wood for his fire along the sands, when he came upon a lad +that was half drowned. Well, he brought him to; and he and some other +gentleman took and clapped him in an auld, ruined castle, where from +that day to this he has been a great expense to my friends. My friends +are a wee wild-like, and not so particular about the law as some that +I could name; and finding that the lad owned some decent folk, and was +your born nephew, Mr. Balfour, they asked me to give ye a bit call and +confer upon the matter. And I may tell ye at the off-go, unless we can +agree upon some terms, ye are little likely to set eyes upon him. For my +friends,” added Alan, simply, “are no very well off.” + +My uncle cleared his throat. “I’m no very caring,” says he. “He wasnae a +good lad at the best of it, and I’ve nae call to interfere.” + +“Ay, ay,” said Alan, “I see what ye would be at: pretending ye don’t +care, to make the ransom smaller.” + +“Na,” said my uncle, “it’s the mere truth. I take nae manner of interest +in the lad, and I’ll pay nae ransome, and ye can make a kirk and a mill +of him for what I care.” + +“Hoot, sir,” says Alan. “Blood’s thicker than water, in the deil’s name! +Ye cannae desert your brother’s son for the fair shame of it; and if +ye did, and it came to be kennt, ye wouldnae be very popular in your +country-side, or I’m the more deceived.” + +“I’m no just very popular the way it is,” returned Ebenezer; “and I +dinnae see how it would come to be kennt. No by me, onyway; nor yet by +you or your friends. So that’s idle talk, my buckie,” says he. + +“Then it’ll have to be David that tells it,” said Alan. + +“How that?” says my uncle, sharply. + +“Ou, just this way,” says Alan. “My friends would doubtless keep your +nephew as long as there was any likelihood of siller to be made of it, +but if there was nane, I am clearly of opinion they would let him gang +where he pleased, and be damned to him!” + +“Ay, but I’m no very caring about that either,” said my uncle. “I +wouldnae be muckle made up with that.” + +“I was thinking that,” said Alan. + +“And what for why?” asked Ebenezer. + +“Why, Mr. Balfour,” replied Alan, “by all that I could hear, there were +two ways of it: either ye liked David and would pay to get him back; or +else ye had very good reasons for not wanting him, and would pay for us +to keep him. It seems it’s not the first; well then, it’s the second; +and blythe am I to ken it, for it should be a pretty penny in my pocket +and the pockets of my friends.” + +“I dinnae follow ye there,” said my uncle. + +“No?” said Alan. “Well, see here: you dinnae want the lad back; well, +what do ye want done with him, and how much will ye pay?” + +My uncle made no answer, but shifted uneasily on his seat. + +“Come, sir,” cried Alan. “I would have you to ken that I am a gentleman; +I bear a king’s name; I am nae rider to kick my shanks at your hall +door. Either give me an answer in civility, and that out of hand; or by +the top of Glencoe, I will ram three feet of iron through your vitals.” + +“Eh, man,” cried my uncle, scrambling to his feet, “give me a meenit! +What’s like wrong with ye? I’m just a plain man and nae dancing master; +and I’m tryin to be as ceevil as it’s morally possible. As for that wild +talk, it’s fair disrepitable. Vitals, says you! And where would I be +with my blunderbush?” he snarled. + +“Powder and your auld hands are but as the snail to the swallow against +the bright steel in the hands of Alan,” said the other. “Before your +jottering finger could find the trigger, the hilt would dirl on your +breast-bane.” + +“Eh, man, whae’s denying it?” said my uncle. “Pit it as ye please, hae’t +your ain way; I’ll do naething to cross ye. Just tell me what like ye’ll +be wanting, and ye’ll see that we’ll can agree fine.” + +“Troth, sir,” said Alan, “I ask for nothing but plain dealing. In two +words: do ye want the lad killed or kept?” + +“O, sirs!” cried Ebenezer. “O, sirs, me! that’s no kind of language!” + +“Killed or kept!” repeated Alan. + +“O, keepit, keepit!” wailed my uncle. “We’ll have nae bloodshed, if you +please.” + +“Well,” says Alan, “as ye please; that’ll be the dearer.” + +“The dearer?” cries Ebenezer. “Would ye fyle your hands wi’ crime?” + +“Hoot!” said Alan, “they’re baith crime, whatever! And the killing’s +easier, and quicker, and surer. Keeping the lad’ll be a fashious[35] job, a +fashious, kittle business.” + + [35] Troublesome. + +“I’ll have him keepit, though,” returned my uncle. “I never had naething +to do with onything morally wrong; and I’m no gaun to begin to pleasure +a wild Hielandman.” + +“Ye’re unco scrupulous,” sneered Alan. + +“I’m a man o’ principle,” said Ebenezer, simply; “and if I have to pay +for it, I’ll have to pay for it. And besides,” says he, “ye forget the +lad’s my brother’s son.” + +“Well, well,” said Alan, “and now about the price. It’s no very easy for +me to set a name upon it; I would first have to ken some small matters. +I would have to ken, for instance, what ye gave Hoseason at the first +off-go?” + +“Hoseason!” cries my uncle, struck aback. “What for?” + +“For kidnapping David,” says Alan. + +“It’s a lee, it’s a black lee!” cried my uncle. “He was never kidnapped. +He leed in his throat that tauld ye that. Kidnapped? He never was!” + +“That’s no fault of mine nor yet of yours,” said Alan; “nor yet of +Hoseason’s, if he’s a man that can be trusted.” + +“What do ye mean?” cried Ebenezer. “Did Hoseason tell ye?” + +“Why, ye donnered auld runt, how else would I ken?” cried Alan. +“Hoseason and me are partners; we gang shares; so ye can see for +yoursel’ what good ye can do leeing. And I must plainly say ye drove a +fool’s bargain when ye let a man like the sailor-man so far forward in +your private matters. But that’s past praying for; and ye must lie on +your bed the way ye made it. And the point in hand is just this: what +did ye pay him?” + +“Has he tauld ye himsel’?” asked my uncle. + +“That’s my concern,” said Alan. + +“Weel,” said my uncle, “I dinnae care what he said, he leed, and the +solemn God’s truth is this, that I gave him twenty pound. But I’ll be +perfec’ly honest with ye: forby that, he was to have the selling of the +lad in Caroliny, whilk would be as muckle mair, but no from my pocket, +ye see.” + +“Thank you, Mr. Thomson. That will do excellently well,” said the +lawyer, stepping forward; and then mighty civilly, “Good-evening, Mr. +Balfour,” said he. + +And, “Good-evening, Uncle Ebenezer,” said I. + +And, “It’s a braw nicht, Mr. Balfour,” added Torrance. + +Never a word said my uncle, neither black nor white; but just sat where +he was on the top door-step and stared upon us like a man turned to +stone. Alan filched away his blunderbuss; and the lawyer, taking him +by the arm, plucked him up from the doorstep, led him into the kitchen, +whither we all followed, and set him down in a chair beside the hearth, +where the fire was out and only a rush-light burning. + +There we all looked upon him for a while, exulting greatly in our +success, but yet with a sort of pity for the man’s shame. + +“Come, come, Mr. Ebenezer,” said the lawyer, “you must not be +down-hearted, for I promise you we shall make easy terms. In the +meanwhile give us the cellar key, and Torrance shall draw us a bottle +of your father’s wine in honour of the event.” Then, turning to me and +taking me by the hand, “Mr. David,” says he, “I wish you all joy in your +good fortune, which I believe to be deserved.” And then to Alan, with +a spice of drollery, “Mr. Thomson, I pay you my compliment; it was +most artfully conducted; but in one point you somewhat outran my +comprehension. Do I understand your name to be James? or Charles? or is +it George, perhaps?” + +“And why should it be any of the three, sir?” quoth Alan, drawing +himself up, like one who smelt an offence. + +“Only, sir, that you mentioned a king’s name,” replied Rankeillor; “and +as there has never yet been a King Thomson, or his fame at least has +never come my way, I judged you must refer to that you had in baptism.” + +This was just the stab that Alan would feel keenest, and I am free to +confess he took it very ill. Not a word would he answer, but stepped off +to the far end of the kitchen, and sat down and sulked; and it was not +till I stepped after him, and gave him my hand, and thanked him by title +as the chief spring of my success, that he began to smile a bit, and was +at last prevailed upon to join our party. + +By that time we had the fire lighted, and a bottle of wine uncorked; a +good supper came out of the basket, to which Torrance and I and Alan +set ourselves down; while the lawyer and my uncle passed into the next +chamber to consult. They stayed there closeted about an hour; at the end +of which period they had come to a good understanding, and my uncle and +I set our hands to the agreement in a formal manner. By the terms +of this, my uncle bound himself to satisfy Rankeillor as to his +intromissions, and to pay me two clear thirds of the yearly income of +Shaws. + +So the beggar in the ballad had come home; and when I lay down that +night on the kitchen chests, I was a man of means and had a name in the +country. Alan and Torrance and Rankeillor slept and snored on their hard +beds; but for me who had lain out under heaven and upon dirt and stones, +so many days and nights, and often with an empty belly, and in fear +of death, this good change in my case unmanned me more than any of the +former evil ones; and I lay till dawn, looking at the fire on the roof +and planning the future. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +GOOD-BYE + + +So far as I was concerned myself, I had come to port; but I had still +Alan, to whom I was so much beholden, on my hands; and I felt besides a +heavy charge in the matter of the murder and James of the Glens. On both +these heads I unbosomed to Rankeillor the next morning, walking to and +fro about six of the clock before the house of Shaws, and with nothing +in view but the fields and woods that had been my ancestors’ and were +now mine. Even as I spoke on these grave subjects, my eye would take a +glad bit of a run over the prospect, and my heart jump with pride. + +About my clear duty to my friend, the lawyer had no doubt. I must help +him out of the county at whatever risk; but in the case of James, he was +of a different mind. + +“Mr. Thomson,” says he, “is one thing, Mr. Thomson’s kinsman quite +another. I know little of the facts, but I gather that a great noble +(whom we will call, if you like, the D. of A.)[36] has some concern and +is even supposed to feel some animosity in the matter. The D. of A. is +doubtless an excellent nobleman; but, Mr. David, _timeo qui nocuere +deos_. If you interfere to balk his vengeance, you should remember +there is one way to shut your testimony out; and that is to put you in +the dock. There, you would be in the same pickle as Mr. Thomson’s +kinsman. You will object that you are innocent; well, but so is he. And +to be tried for your life before a Highland jury, on a Highland quarrel +and with a Highland Judge upon the bench, would be a brief transition +to the gallows.” + + [36] The Duke of Argyle. + +Now I had made all these reasonings before and found no very good reply +to them; so I put on all the simplicity I could. “In that case, sir,” + said I, “I would just have to be hanged--would I not?” + +“My dear boy,” cries he, “go in God’s name, and do what you think is +right. It is a poor thought that at my time of life I should be advising +you to choose the safe and shameful; and I take it back with an apology. +Go and do your duty; and be hanged, if you must, like a gentleman. There +are worse things in the world than to be hanged.” + +“Not many, sir,” said I, smiling. + +“Why, yes, sir,” he cried, “very many. And it would be ten times better +for your uncle (to go no farther afield) if he were dangling decently +upon a gibbet.” + +Thereupon he turned into the house (still in a great fervour of mind, +so that I saw I had pleased him heartily) and there he wrote me two +letters, making his comments on them as he wrote. + +“This,” says he, “is to my bankers, the British Linen Company, placing a +credit to your name. Consult Mr. Thomson, he will know of ways; and +you, with this credit, can supply the means. I trust you will be a good +husband of your money; but in the affair of a friend like Mr. Thomson, +I would be even prodigal. Then for his kinsman, there is no better way +than that you should seek the Advocate, tell him your tale, and offer +testimony; whether he may take it or not, is quite another matter, and +will turn on the D. of A. Now, that you may reach the Lord Advocate well +recommended, I give you here a letter to a namesake of your own, the +learned Mr. Balfour of Pilrig, a man whom I esteem. It will look better +that you should be presented by one of your own name; and the laird of +Pilrig is much looked up to in the Faculty and stands well with Lord +Advocate Grant. I would not trouble him, if I were you, with any +particulars; and (do you know?) I think it would be needless to refer to +Mr. Thomson. Form yourself upon the laird, he is a good model; when you +deal with the Advocate, be discreet; and in all these matters, may the +Lord guide you, Mr. David!” + +Thereupon he took his farewell, and set out with Torrance for the Ferry, +while Alan and I turned our faces for the city of Edinburgh. As we went +by the footpath and beside the gateposts and the unfinished lodge, we +kept looking back at the house of my fathers. It stood there, bare and +great and smokeless, like a place not lived in; only in one of the top +windows, there was the peak of a nightcap bobbing up and down and back +and forward, like the head of a rabbit from a burrow. I had little +welcome when I came, and less kindness while I stayed; but at least I +was watched as I went away. + +Alan and I went slowly forward upon our way, having little heart either +to walk or speak. The same thought was uppermost in both, that we were +near the time of our parting; and remembrance of all the bygone days +sate upon us sorely. We talked indeed of what should be done; and it +was resolved that Alan should keep to the county, biding now here, now +there, but coming once in the day to a particular place where I might be +able to communicate with him, either in my own person or by messenger. +In the meanwhile, I was to seek out a lawyer, who was an Appin Stewart, +and a man therefore to be wholly trusted; and it should be his part to +find a ship and to arrange for Alan’s safe embarkation. No sooner was +this business done, than the words seemed to leave us; and though I +would seek to jest with Alan under the name of Mr. Thomson, and he with +me on my new clothes and my estate, you could feel very well that we +were nearer tears than laughter. + +We came the by-way over the hill of Corstorphine; and when we got +near to the place called Rest-and-be-Thankful, and looked down on +Corstorphine bogs and over to the city and the castle on the hill, we +both stopped, for we both knew without a word said that we had come to +where our ways parted. Here he repeated to me once again what had been +agreed upon between us: the address of the lawyer, the daily hour at +which Alan might be found, and the signals that were to be made by any +that came seeking him. Then I gave what money I had (a guinea or two of +Rankeillor’s) so that he should not starve in the meanwhile; and then we +stood a space, and looked over at Edinburgh in silence. + +“Well, good-bye,” said Alan, and held out his left hand. + +“Good-bye,” said I, and gave the hand a little grasp, and went off down +hill. + +Neither one of us looked the other in the face, nor so long as he was in +my view did I take one back glance at the friend I was leaving. But as +I went on my way to the city, I felt so lost and lonesome, that I could +have found it in my heart to sit down by the dyke, and cry and weep like +any baby. + +It was coming near noon when I passed in by the West Kirk and the +Grassmarket into the streets of the capital. The huge height of the +buildings, running up to ten and fifteen storeys, the narrow arched +entries that continually vomited passengers, the wares of the merchants +in their windows, the hubbub and endless stir, the foul smells and the +fine clothes, and a hundred other particulars too small to mention, +struck me into a kind of stupor of surprise, so that I let the crowd +carry me to and fro; and yet all the time what I was thinking of was +Alan at Rest-and-be-Thankful; and all the time (although you would think +I would not choose but be delighted with these braws and novelties) +there was a cold gnawing in my inside like a remorse for something +wrong. + +The hand of Providence brought me in my drifting to the very doors of +the British Linen Company’s bank. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 421 *** diff --git a/421-h/421-h.htm b/421-h/421-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1ae8485 --- /dev/null +++ b/421-h/421-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11467 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>Kidnapped | Project Gutenberg</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" /> +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +.figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 421 ***</div> + +<h1>KIDNAPPED</h1> + +<h2>By Robert Louis Stevenson</h2> + +<h3>Illustrated by Louis Rhead</h3> + +<hr /> + +<h3> +BEING<br/> +MEMOIRS OF THE ADVENTURES OF<br/> +DAVID BALFOUR<br/> +IN THE YEAR 1751<br/> +HOW HE WAS KIDNAPPED AND CAST AWAY; HIS SUFFERINGS IN<br/> +A DESERT ISLE; HIS JOURNEY IN THE WILD HIGHLANDS;<br/> +HIS ACQUAINTANCE WITH ALAN BRECK STEWART<br/> +AND OTHER NOTORIOUS HIGHLAND JACOBITES;<br/> +WITH ALL THAT HE SUFFERED AT THE<br/> +HANDS OF HIS UNCLE, EBENEZER<br/> +BALFOUR OF SHAWS, FALSELY<br/> +SO CALLED<br/> +<br/> +WRITTEN BY HIMSELF AND NOW SET FORTH BY<br/> +ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON<br/> +WITH A PREFACE BY MRS. STEVENSON<br/> + +</h3> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0010.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Frontispiece" /> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0011.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Title page" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0013.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Contents" /> +</div> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE TO THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> DEDICATION </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I.—I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II.—I COME TO MY JOURNEY’S END</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0003">CHAPTER III.—I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV.—I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V.—I GO TO THE QUEEN’S FERRY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI.—WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN’S FERRY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0007">CHAPTER VII.—I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG “COVENANT” OF DYSART</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII.—THE ROUND-HOUSE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX.—THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X.—THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0011">CHAPTER XI.—THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII.—I HEAR OF THE “RED FOX”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII.—THE LOSS OF THE BRIG</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV.—THE ISLET</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV.—THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0016">CHAPTER XVI.—THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII.—THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII.—TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX.—THE HOUSE OF FEAR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX.—THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0021">CHAPTER XXI.—THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII.—THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII.—CLUNY’S CAGE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV.—THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV.—THE QUARREL IN BALQUHIDDER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI.—END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII.—I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII.—I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX.—I COME INTO MY KINGDOM</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX.—GOOD-BYE</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0015.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="List of Illustrations first page" /> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0016.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="List of illustrations second page" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name="link2H_PREF"></a> +PREFACE TO THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION</h2> + +<p> +While my husband and Mr. Henley were engaged in writing plays in Bournemouth +they made a number of titles, hoping to use them in the future. Dramatic +composition was not what my husband preferred, but the torrent of Mr. Henley’s +enthusiasm swept him off his feet. However, after several plays had been +finished, and his health seriously impaired by his endeavours to keep up with +Mr. Henley, play writing was abandoned forever, and my husband returned to his +legitimate vocation. Having added one of the titles, The Hanging Judge, to the +list of projected plays, now thrown aside, and emboldened by my husband’s offer +to give me any help needed, I concluded to try and write it myself. +</p> + +<p> +As I wanted a trial scene in the Old Bailey, I chose the period of 1700 for my +purpose; but being shamefully ignorant of my subject, and my husband confessing +to little more knowledge than I possessed, a London bookseller was commissioned +to send us everything he could procure bearing on Old Bailey trials. A great +package came in response to our order, and very soon we were both absorbed, not +so much in the trials as in following the brilliant career of a Mr. Garrow, who +appeared as counsel in many of the cases. We sent for more books, and yet more, +still intent on Mr. Garrow, whose subtle cross-examination of witnesses and +masterly, if sometimes startling, methods of arriving at the truth seemed more +thrilling to us than any novel. +</p> + +<p> +Occasionally other trials than those of the Old Bailey would be included in the +package of books we received from London; among these my husband found and read +with avidity:— +</p> + +<h4>THE,<br/> +TRIAL<br/> +OF<br/> +JAMES STEWART<br/> +in Aucharn in Duror of Appin<br/> +FOR THE<br/> +Murder of COLIN CAMPBELL of Glenure, Efq;<br/> +Factor for His Majefty on the forfeited<br/> +Estate of Ardfhiel.</h4> + +<p> +My husband was always interested in this period of his country’s history, and +had already the intention of writing a story that should turn on the Appin +murder. The tale was to be of a boy, David Balfour, supposed to belong to my +husband’s own family, who should travel in Scotland as though it were a foreign +country, meeting with various adventures and misadventures by the way. From the +trial of James Stewart my husband gleaned much valuable material for his novel, +the most important being the character of Alan Breck. Aside from having +described him as “smallish in stature,” my husband seems to have taken Alan +Breck’s personal appearance, even to his clothing, from the book. +</p> + +<p> +A letter from James Stewart to Mr. John Macfarlane, introduced as evidence in +the trial, says: “There is one Alan Stewart, a distant friend of the late +Ardshiel’s, who is in the French service, and came over in March last, as he +said to some, in order to settle at home; to others, that he was to go soon +back; and was, as I hear, the day that the murder was committed, seen not far +from the place where it happened, and is not now to be seen; by which it is +believed he was the actor. He is a desperate foolish fellow; and if he is +guilty, came to the country for that very purpose. He is a tall, pock-pitted +lad, very black hair, and wore a blue coat and metal buttons, an old red vest, +and breeches of the same colour.” A second witness testified to having seen him +wearing “a blue coat with silver buttons, a red waistcoat, black shag breeches, +tartan hose, and a feathered hat, with a big coat, dun coloured,” a costume +referred to by one of the counsel as “French cloathes which were remarkable.” +</p> + +<p> +There are many incidents given in the trial that point to Alan’s fiery spirit +and Highland quickness to take offence. One witness “declared also That the +said Alan Breck threatened that he would challenge Ballieveolan and his sons to +fight because of his removing the declarant last year from Glenduror.” On +another page: “Duncan Campbell, change-keeper at Annat, aged thirty-five years, +married, witness cited, sworn, purged and examined ut supra, depones, That, in +the month of April last, the deponent met with Alan Breck Stewart, with whom he +was not acquainted, and John Stewart, in Auchnacoan, in the house of the walk +miller of Auchofragan, and went on with them to the house: Alan Breck Stewart +said, that he hated all the name of Campbell; and the deponent said, he had no +reason for doing so: But Alan said, he had very good reason for it: that +thereafter they left that house; and, after drinking a dram at another house, +came to the deponent’s house, where they went in, and drunk some drams, and +Alan Breck renewed the former Conversation; and the deponent, making the same +answer, Alan said, that, if the deponent had any respect for his friends, he +would tell them, that if they offered to turn out the possessors of Ardshiel’s +estate, he would make black cocks of them, before they entered into possession +by which the deponent understood shooting them, it being a common phrase in the +country.” +</p> + +<p> +Some time after the publication of Kidnapped we stopped for a short while in +the Appin country, where we were surprised and interested to discover that the +feeling concerning the murder of Glenure (the “Red Fox,” also called “Colin +Roy”) was almost as keen as though the tragedy had taken place the day before. +For several years my husband received letters of expostulation or commendation +from members of the Campbell and Stewart clans. I have in my possession a +paper, yellow with age, that was sent soon after the novel appeared, containing +“The Pedigree of the Family of Appine,” wherein it is said that “Alan 3rd Baron +of Appine was not killed at Flowdoun, tho there, but lived to a great old age. +He married Cameron Daughter to Ewen Cameron of Lochiel.” Following this is a +paragraph stating that “John Stewart 1st of Ardsheall of his descendants Alan +Breck had better be omitted. Duncan Baan Stewart in Achindarroch his father was +a Bastard.” +</p> + +<p> +One day, while my husband was busily at work, I sat beside him reading an old +cookery book called The Compleat Housewife: or Accomplish’d Gentlewoman’s +Companion. In the midst of receipts for “Rabbits, and Chickens mumbled, Pickled +Samphire, Skirret Pye, Baked Tansy,” and other forgotten delicacies, there were +directions for the preparation of several lotions for the preservation of +beauty. One of these was so charming that I interrupted my husband to read it +aloud. “Just what I wanted!” he exclaimed; and the receipt for the “Lily of the +Valley Water” was instantly incorporated into Kidnapped. +</p> + +<p> +F. V. DE G. S. +</p> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0002"></a> +DEDICATION</h2> + +<h4>MY DEAR CHARLES BAXTER:</h4> + +<p> +If you ever read this tale, you will likely ask yourself more questions than I +should care to answer: as for instance how the Appin murder has come to fall in +the year 1751, how the Torran rocks have crept so near to Earraid, or why the +printed trial is silent as to all that touches David Balfour. These are nuts +beyond my ability to crack. But if you tried me on the point of Alan’s guilt or +innocence, I think I could defend the reading of the text. To this day you will +find the tradition of Appin clear in Alan’s favour. If you inquire, you may +even hear that the descendants of “the other man” who fired the shot are in the +country to this day. But that other man’s name, inquire as you please, you +shall not hear; for the Highlander values a secret for itself and for the +congenial exercise of keeping it. I might go on for long to justify one point +and own another indefensible; it is more honest to confess at once how little I +am touched by the desire of accuracy. This is no furniture for the scholar’s +library, but a book for the winter evening school-room when the tasks are over +and the hour for bed draws near; and honest Alan, who was a grim old fire-eater +in his day has in this new avatar no more desperate purpose than to steal some +young gentleman’s attention from his Ovid, carry him awhile into the Highlands +and the last century, and pack him to bed with some engaging images to mingle +with his dreams. +</p> + +<p> +As for you, my dear Charles, I do not even ask you to like this tale. But +perhaps when he is older, your son will; he may then be pleased to find his +father’s name on the fly-leaf; and in the meanwhile it pleases me to set it +there, in memory of many days that were happy and some (now perhaps as pleasant +to remember) that were sad. If it is strange for me to look back from a +distance both in time and space on these bygone adventures of our youth, it +must be stranger for you who tread the same streets—who may to-morrow open the +door of the old Speculative, where we begin to rank with Scott and Robert Emmet +and the beloved and inglorious Macbean—or may pass the corner of the close +where that great society, the L. J. R., held its meetings and drank its beer, +sitting in the seats of Burns and his companions. I think I see you, moving +there by plain daylight, beholding with your natural eyes those places that +have now become for your companion a part of the scenery of dreams. How, in the +intervals of present business, the past must echo in your memory! Let it not +echo often without some kind thoughts of your friend, +</p> + +<p> +R.L.S. SKERRYVORE, BOURNEMOUTH. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0021.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter I" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0001"></a>CHAPTER I<br/> +I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9021.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="I" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p> +will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in the month +of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the last time out of +the door of my father’s house. The sun began to shine upon the summit of the +hills as I went down the road; and by the time I had come as far as the manse, +the blackbirds were whistling in the garden lilacs, and the mist that hung +around the valley in the time of the dawn was beginning to arise and die away. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Campbell, the minister of Essendean, was waiting for me by the garden gate, +good man! He asked me if I had breakfasted; and hearing that I lacked for +nothing, he took my hand in both of his and clapped it kindly under his arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Davie, lad,” said he, “I will go with you as far as the ford, to set you +on the way.” And we began to walk forward in silence. +</p> + +<p> +“Are ye sorry to leave Essendean?” said he, after awhile. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, sir,” said I, “if I knew where I was going, or what was likely to become +of me, I would tell you candidly. Essendean is a good place indeed, and I have +been very happy there; but then I have never been anywhere else. My father and +mother, since they are both dead, I shall be no nearer to in Essendean than in +the Kingdom of Hungary, and, to speak truth, if I thought I had a chance to +better myself where I was going I would go with a good will.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay?” said Mr. Campbell. “Very well, Davie. Then it behoves me to tell your +fortune; or so far as I may. When your mother was gone, and your father (the +worthy, Christian man) began to sicken for his end, he gave me in charge a +certain letter, which he said was your inheritance. ‘So soon,’ says he, ‘as I +am gone, and the house is redd up and the gear disposed of’ (all which, Davie, +hath been done), ‘give my boy this letter into his hand, and start him off to +the house of Shaws, not far from Cramond. That is the place I came from,’ he +said, ‘and it’s where it befits that my boy should return. He is a steady lad,’ +your father said, ‘and a canny goer; and I doubt not he will come safe, and be +well liked where he goes.’” +</p> + +<p> +“The house of Shaws!” I cried. “What had my poor father to do with the house of +Shaws?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay,” said Mr. Campbell, “who can tell that for a surety? But the name of that +family, Davie, boy, is the name you bear—Balfours of Shaws: an ancient, honest, +reputable house, peradventure in these latter days decayed. Your father, too, +was a man of learning as befitted his position; no man more plausibly conducted +school; nor had he the manner or the speech of a common dominie; but (as ye +will yourself remember) I took aye a pleasure to have him to the manse to meet +the gentry; and those of my own house, Campbell of Kilrennet, Campbell of +Dunswire, Campbell of Minch, and others, all well-kenned gentlemen, had +pleasure in his society. Lastly, to put all the elements of this affair before +you, here is the testamentary letter itself, superscrived by the own hand of +our departed brother.” +</p> + +<p> +He gave me the letter, which was addressed in these words: “To the hands of +Ebenezer Balfour, Esquire, of Shaws, in his house of Shaws, these will be +delivered by my son, David Balfour.” My heart was beating hard at this great +prospect now suddenly opening before a lad of seventeen years of age, the son +of a poor country dominie in the Forest of Ettrick. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Campbell,” I stammered, “and if you were in my shoes, would you go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of a surety,” said the minister, “that would I, and without pause. A pretty +lad like you should get to Cramond (which is near in by Edinburgh) in two days +of walk. If the worst came to the worst, and your high relations (as I cannot +but suppose them to be somewhat of your blood) should put you to the door, ye +can but walk the two days back again and risp at the manse door. But I would +rather hope that ye shall be well received, as your poor father forecast for +you, and for anything that I ken come to be a great man in time. And here, +Davie, laddie,” he resumed, “it lies near upon my conscience to improve this +parting, and set you on the right guard against the dangers of the world.” +</p> + +<p> +Here he cast about for a comfortable seat, lighted on a big boulder under a +birch by the trackside, sate down upon it with a very long, serious upper lip, +and the sun now shining in upon us between two peaks, put his +pocket-handkerchief over his cocked hat to shelter him. There, then, with +uplifted forefinger, he first put me on my guard against a considerable number +of heresies, to which I had no temptation, and urged upon me to be instant in +my prayers and reading of the Bible. That done, he drew a picture of the great +house that I was bound to, and how I should conduct myself with its +inhabitants. +</p> + +<p> +“Be soople, Davie, in things immaterial,” said he. “Bear ye this in mind, that, +though gentle born, ye have had a country rearing. Dinnae shame us, Davie, +dinnae shame us! In yon great, muckle house, with all these domestics, upper +and under, show yourself as nice, as circumspect, as quick at the conception, +and as slow of speech as any. As for the laird—remember he’s the laird; I say +no more: honour to whom honour. It’s a pleasure to obey a laird; or should be, +to the young.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” said I, “it may be; and I’ll promise you I’ll try to make it so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, very well said,” replied Mr. Campbell, heartily. “And now to come to the +material, or (to make a quibble) to the immaterial. I have here a little packet +which contains four things.” He tugged it, as he spoke, and with some great +difficulty, from the skirt pocket of his coat. “Of these four things, the first +is your legal due: the little pickle money for your father’s books and +plenishing, which I have bought (as I have explained from the first) in the +design of re-selling at a profit to the incoming dominie. The other three are +gifties that Mrs. Campbell and myself would be blithe of your acceptance. The +first, which is round, will likely please ye best at the first off-go; but, O +Davie, laddie, it’s but a drop of water in the sea; it’ll help you but a step, +and vanish like the morning. The second, which is flat and square and written +upon, will stand by you through life, like a good staff for the road, and a +good pillow to your head in sickness. And as for the last, which is cubical, +that’ll see you, it’s my prayerful wish, into a better land.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0025.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Held me at arm's length, +looking at me with his face all working with sorrow" /> +</div> + +<p> +With that he got upon his feet, took off his hat, and prayed a little while +aloud, and in affecting terms, for a young man setting out into the world; then +suddenly took me in his arms and embraced me very hard; then held me at arm’s +length, looking at me with his face all working with sorrow; and then whipped +about, and crying good-bye to me, set off backward by the way that we had come +at a sort of jogging run. It might have been laughable to another; but I was in +no mind to laugh. I watched him as long as he was in sight; and he never +stopped hurrying, nor once looked back. Then it came in upon my mind that this +was all his sorrow at my departure; and my conscience smote me hard and fast, +because I, for my part, was overjoyed to get away out of that quiet +country-side, and go to a great, busy house, among rich and respected +gentlefolk of my own name and blood. +</p> + +<p> +“Davie, Davie,” I thought, “was ever seen such black ingratitude? Can you +forget old favours and old friends at the mere whistle of a name? Fie, fie; +think shame.” +</p> + +<p> +And I sat down on the boulder the good man had just left, and opened the parcel +to see the nature of my gifts. That which he had called cubical, I had never +had much doubt of; sure enough it was a little Bible, to carry in a plaid-neuk. +That which he had called round, I found to be a shilling piece; and the third, +which was to help me so wonderfully both in health and sickness all the days of +my life, was a little piece of coarse yellow paper, written upon thus in red +ink: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“T<small>O</small> M<small>AKE</small> L<small>ILLY OF THE</small> +V<small>ALLEY</small> W<small>ATER</small>.—Take the flowers of lilly of the +valley and distil them in sack, and drink a spooneful or two as there is +occasion. It restores speech to those that have the dumb palsey. It is good +against the Gout; it comforts the heart and strengthens the memory; and the +flowers, put into a Glasse, close stopt, and set into ane hill of ants for a +month, then take it out, and you will find a liquor which comes from the +flowers, which keep in a vial; it is good, ill or well, and whether man or +woman.” +</p> + +<p> +And then, in the minister’s own hand, was added: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Likewise for sprains, rub it in; and for the cholic, a great spooneful in the +hour.” +</p> + +<p> +To be sure, I laughed over this; but it was rather tremulous laughter; and I +was glad to get my bundle on my staff’s end and set out over the ford and up +the hill upon the farther side; till, just as I came on the green drove-road +running wide through the heather, I took my last look of Kirk Essendean, the +trees about the manse, and the big rowans in the kirkyard where my father and +my mother lay. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0028.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter II" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0002"></a>CHAPTER II<br/> +I COME TO MY JOURNEY’S END</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9021.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="I" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +n the forenoon of the second day, coming to the top of a hill, I saw all the +country fall away before me down to the sea; and in the midst of this descent, +on a long ridge, the city of Edinburgh smoking like a kiln. There was a flag +upon the castle, and ships moving or lying anchored in the firth; both of +which, for as far away as they were, I could distinguish clearly; and both +brought my country heart into my mouth. +</p> + +<p> +Presently after, I came by a house where a shepherd lived, and got a rough +direction for the neighbourhood of Cramond; and so, from one to another, worked +my way to the westward of the capital by Colinton, till I came out upon the +Glasgow road. And there, to my great pleasure and wonder, I beheld a regiment +marching to the fifes, every foot in time; an old red-faced general on a grey +horse at the one end, and at the other the company of Grenadiers, with their +Pope’s-hats. The pride of life seemed to mount into my brain at the sight of +the red coats and the hearing of that merry music. +</p> + +<p> +A little farther on, and I was told I was in Cramond parish, and began to +substitute in my inquiries the name of the house of Shaws. It was a word that +seemed to surprise those of whom I sought my way. At first I thought the +plainness of my appearance, in my country habit, and that all dusty from the +road, consorted ill with the greatness of the place to which I was bound. But +after two, or maybe three, had given me the same look and the same answer, I +began to take it in my head there was something strange about the Shaws itself. +</p> + +<p> +The better to set this fear at rest, I changed the form of my inquiries; and +spying an honest fellow coming along a lane on the shaft of his cart, I asked +him if he had ever heard tell of a house they called the house of Shaws. +</p> + +<p> +He stopped his cart and looked at me, like the others. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay” said he. “What for?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a great house?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Doubtless,” says he. “The house is a big, muckle house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said I, “but the folk that are in it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Folk?” cried he. “Are ye daft? There’s nae folk there—to call folk.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” say I; “not Mr. Ebenezer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ou, ay” says the man; “there’s the laird, to be sure, if it’s him you’re +wanting. What’ll like be your business, mannie?” +</p> + +<p> +“I was led to think that I would get a situation,” I said, looking as modest as +I could. +</p> + +<p> +“What?” cries the carter, in so sharp a note that his very horse started; and +then, “Well, mannie,” he added, “it’s nane of my affairs; but ye seem a +decent-spoken lad; and if ye’ll take a word from me, ye’ll keep clear of the +Shaws.” +</p> + +<p> +The next person I came across was a dapper little man in a beautiful white wig, +whom I saw to be a barber on his rounds; and knowing well that barbers were +great gossips, I asked him plainly what sort of a man was Mr. Balfour of the +Shaws. +</p> + +<p> +“Hoot, hoot, hoot,” said the barber, “nae kind of a man, nae kind of a man at +all;” and began to ask me very shrewdly what my business was; but I was more +than a match for him at that, and he went on to his next customer no wiser than +he came. +</p> + +<p> +I cannot well describe the blow this dealt to my illusions. The more indistinct +the accusations were, the less I liked them, for they left the wider field to +fancy. What kind of a great house was this, that all the parish should start +and stare to be asked the way to it? or what sort of a gentleman, that his +ill-fame should be thus current on the wayside? If an hour’s walking would have +brought me back to Essendean, I had left my adventure then and there, and +returned to Mr. Campbell’s. But when I had come so far a way already, mere +shame would not suffer me to desist till I had put the matter to the touch of +proof; I was bound, out of mere self-respect, to carry it through; and little +as I liked the sound of what I heard, and slow as I began to travel, I still +kept asking my way and still kept advancing. +</p> + +<p> +It was drawing on to sundown when I met a stout, dark, sour-looking woman +coming trudging down a hill; and she, when I had put my usual question, turned +sharp about, accompanied me back to the summit she had just left, and pointed +to a great bulk of building standing very bare upon a green in the bottom of +the next valley. The country was pleasant round about, running in low hills, +pleasantly watered and wooded, and the crops, to my eyes, wonderfully good; but +the house itself appeared to be a kind of ruin; no road led up to it; no smoke +arose from any of the chimneys; nor was there any semblance of a garden. My +heart sank. “That!” I cried. +</p> + +<p> +The woman’s face lit up with a malignant anger. “That is the house of Shaws!” +she cried. “Blood built it; blood stopped the building of it; blood shall bring +it down. See here!” she cried again—“I spit upon the ground, and crack my thumb +at it! Black be its fall! If ye see the laird, tell him what ye hear; tell him +this makes the twelve hunner and nineteen time that Jennet Clouston has called +down the curse on him and his house, byre and stable, man, guest, and master, +wife, miss, or bairn—black, black be their fall!” +</p> + +<p> +And the woman, whose voice had risen to a kind of eldritch sing-song, turned +with a skip, and was gone. I stood where she left me, with my hair on end. In +those days folk still believed in witches and trembled at a curse; and this +one, falling so pat, like a wayside omen, to arrest me ere I carried out my +purpose, took the pith out of my legs. +</p> + +<p> +I sat me down and stared at the house of Shaws. The more I looked, the +pleasanter that country-side appeared; being all set with hawthorn bushes full +of flowers; the fields dotted with sheep; a fine flight of rooks in the sky; +and every sign of a kind soil and climate; and yet the barrack in the midst of +it went sore against my fancy. +</p> + +<p> +Country folk went by from the fields as I sat there on the side of the ditch, +but I lacked the spirit to give them a good-e’en. At last the sun went down, +and then, right up against the yellow sky, I saw a scroll of smoke go mounting, +not much thicker, as it seemed to me, than the smoke of a candle; but still +there it was, and meant a fire, and warmth, and cookery, and some living +inhabitant that must have lit it; and this comforted my heart. +</p> + +<p> +So I set forward by a little faint track in the grass that led in my direction. +It was very faint indeed to be the only way to a place of habitation; yet I saw +no other. Presently it brought me to stone uprights, with an unroofed lodge +beside them, and coats of arms upon the top. A main entrance it was plainly +meant to be, but never finished; instead of gates of wrought iron, a pair of +hurdles were tied across with a straw rope; and as there were no park walls, +nor any sign of avenue, the track that I was following passed on the right hand +of the pillars, and went wandering on toward the house. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0033.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="The nearer I got to the +house the drearier it appeared" /> +</div> + +<p> +The nearer I got to that, the drearier it appeared. It seemed like the one wing +of a house that had never been finished. What should have been the inner end +stood open on the upper floors, and showed against the sky with steps and +stairs of uncompleted masonry. Many of the windows were unglazed, and bats flew +in and out like doves out of a dove-cote. +</p> + +<p> +The night had begun to fall as I got close; and in three of the lower windows, +which were very high up and narrow, and well barred, the changing light of a +little fire began to glimmer. Was this the palace I had been coming to? Was it +within these walls that I was to seek new friends and begin great fortunes? +Why, in my father’s house on Essen-Waterside, the fire and the bright lights +would show a mile away, and the door open to a beggar’s knock! +</p> + +<p> +I came forward cautiously, and giving ear as I came, heard some one rattling +with dishes, and a little dry, eager cough that came in fits; but there was no +sound of speech, and not a dog barked. +</p> + +<p> +The door, as well as I could see it in the dim light, was a great piece of wood +all studded with nails; and I lifted my hand with a faint heart under my +jacket, and knocked once. Then I stood and waited. The house had fallen into a +dead silence; a whole minute passed away, and nothing stirred but the bats +overhead. I knocked again, and hearkened again. By this time my ears had grown +so accustomed to the quiet, that I could hear the ticking of the clock inside +as it slowly counted out the seconds; but whoever was in that house kept deadly +still, and must have held his breath. +</p> + +<p> +I was in two minds whether to run away; but anger got the upper hand, and I +began instead to rain kicks and buffets on the door, and to shout out aloud for +Mr. Balfour. I was in full career, when I heard the cough right overhead, and +jumping back and looking up, beheld a man’s head in a tall nightcap, and the +bell mouth of a blunderbuss, at one of the first-storey windows. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s loaded,” said a voice. +</p> + +<p> +“I have come here with a letter,” I said, “to Mr. Ebenezer Balfour of Shaws. Is +he here?” +</p> + +<p> +“From whom is it?” asked the man with the blunderbuss. +</p> + +<p> +“That is neither here nor there,” said I, for I was growing very wroth. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” was the reply, “ye can put it down upon the doorstep, and be off with +ye.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will do no such thing,” I cried. “I will deliver it into Mr. Balfour’s +hands, as it was meant I should. It is a letter of introduction.” +</p> + +<p> +“A what?” cried the voice, sharply. +</p> + +<p> +I repeated what I had said. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are ye, yourself?” was the next question, after a considerable pause. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not ashamed of my name,” said I. “They call me David Balfour.” +</p> + +<p> +At that, I made sure the man started, for I heard the blunderbuss rattle on the +window-sill; and it was after quite a long pause, and with a curious change of +voice, that the next question followed: +</p> + +<p> +“Is your father dead?” +</p> + +<p> +I was so much surprised at this, that I could find no voice to answer, but +stood staring. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” the man resumed, “he’ll be dead, no doubt; and that’ll be what brings ye +chapping to my door.” Another pause, and then defiantly, “Well, man,” he said, +“I’ll let ye in;” and he disappeared from the window. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0036.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter III" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0003"></a>CHAPTER III<br/> +I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9036.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="P" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +resently there came a great rattling of chains and bolts, and the door was +cautiously opened and shut to again behind me as soon as I had passed. +</p> + +<p> +“Go into the kitchen and touch naething,” said the voice; and while the person +of the house set himself to replacing the defences of the door, I groped my way +forward and entered the kitchen. +</p> + +<p> +The fire had burned up fairly bright, and showed me the barest room I think I +ever put my eyes on. Half-a-dozen dishes stood upon the shelves; the table was +laid for supper with a bowl of porridge, a horn spoon, and a cup of small beer. +Besides what I have named, there was not another thing in that great, +stone-vaulted, empty chamber but lockfast chests arranged along the wall and a +corner cupboard with a padlock. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as the last chain was up, the man rejoined me. He was a mean, stooping, +narrow-shouldered, clay-faced creature; and his age might have been anything +between fifty and seventy. His nightcap was of flannel, and so was the +nightgown that he wore, instead of coat and waistcoat, over his ragged shirt. +He was long unshaved; but what most distressed and even daunted me, he would +neither take his eyes away from me nor look me fairly in the face. What he was, +whether by trade or birth, was more than I could fathom; but he seemed most +like an old, unprofitable serving-man, who should have been left in charge of +that big house upon board wages. +</p> + +<p> +“Are ye sharp-set?” he asked, glancing at about the level of my knee. “Ye can +eat that drop parritch?” +</p> + +<p> +I said I feared it was his own supper. +</p> + +<p> +“O,” said he, “I can do fine wanting it. I’ll take the ale, though, for it +slockens<a href="#fn1" name="fnref1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> my cough.” He drank the +cup about half out, still keeping an eye upon me as he drank; and then suddenly +held out his hand. “Let’s see the letter,” said he. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn1"></a> <a href="#fnref1">[1]</a> +moistens +</p> + +<p> +I told him the letter was for Mr. Balfour; not for him. +</p> + +<p> +“And who do ye think I am?” says he. “Give me Alexander’s letter.” +</p> + +<p> +“You know my father’s name?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be strange if I didnae,” he returned, “for he was my born brother; +and little as ye seem to like either me or my house, or my good parritch, I’m +your born uncle, Davie, my man, and you my born nephew. So give us the letter, +and sit down and fill your kyte.” +</p> + +<p> +If I had been some years younger, what with shame, weariness, and +disappointment, I believe I had burst into tears. As it was, I could find no +words, neither black nor white, but handed him the letter, and sat down to the +porridge with as little appetite for meat as ever a young man had. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, my uncle, stooping over the fire, turned the letter over and over in +his hands. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0039.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Do ye ken what's in it?" +/> +</div> + +<p> +“Do ye ken what’s in it?” he asked, suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“You see for yourself, sir,” said I, “that the seal has not been broken.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said he, “but what brought you here?” +</p> + +<p> +“To give the letter,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” says he, cunningly, “but ye’ll have had some hopes, nae doubt?” +</p> + +<p> +“I confess, sir,” said I, “when I was told that I had kinsfolk well-to-do, I +did indeed indulge the hope that they might help me in my life. But I am no +beggar; I look for no favours at your hands, and I want none that are not +freely given. For as poor as I appear, I have friends of my own that will be +blithe to help me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hoot-toot!” said Uncle Ebenezer, “dinnae fly up in the snuff at me. We’ll +agree fine yet. And, Davie, my man, if you’re done with that bit parritch, I +could just take a sup of it myself. Ay,” he continued, as soon as he had ousted +me from the stool and spoon, “they’re fine, halesome food—they’re grand food, +parritch.” He murmured a little grace to himself and fell to. “Your father was +very fond of his meat, I mind; he was a hearty, if not a great eater; but as +for me, I could never do mair than pyke at food.” He took a pull at the small +beer, which probably reminded him of hospitable duties, for his next speech ran +thus: “If ye’re dry ye’ll find water behind the door.” +</p> + +<p> +To this I returned no answer, standing stiffly on my two feet, and looking down +upon my uncle with a mighty angry heart. He, on his part, continued to eat like +a man under some pressure of time, and to throw out little darting glances now +at my shoes and now at my home-spun stockings. Once only, when he had ventured +to look a little higher, our eyes met; and no thief taken with a hand in a +man’s pocket could have shown more lively signals of distress. This set me in a +muse, whether his timidity arose from too long a disuse of any human company; +and whether perhaps, upon a little trial, it might pass off, and my uncle +change into an altogether different man. From this I was awakened by his sharp +voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Your father’s been long dead?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Three weeks, sir,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“He was a secret man, Alexander—a secret, silent man,” he continued. “He never +said muckle when he was young. He’ll never have spoken muckle of me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I never knew, sir, till you told it me yourself, that he had any brother.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me, dear me!” said Ebenezer. “Nor yet of Shaws, I dare say?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not so much as the name, sir,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“To think o’ that!” said he. “A strange nature of a man!” For all that, he +seemed singularly satisfied, but whether with himself, or me, or with this +conduct of my father’s, was more than I could read. Certainly, however, he +seemed to be outgrowing that distaste, or ill-will, that he had conceived at +first against my person; for presently he jumped up, came across the room +behind me, and hit me a smack upon the shoulder. “We’ll agree fine yet!” he +cried. “I’m just as glad I let you in. And now come awa’ to your bed.” +</p> + +<p> +To my surprise, he lit no lamp or candle, but set forth into the dark passage, +groped his way, breathing deeply, up a flight of steps, and paused before a +door, which he unlocked. I was close upon his heels, having stumbled after him +as best I might; and then he bade me go in, for that was my chamber. I did as +he bid, but paused after a few steps, and begged a light to go to bed with. +</p> + +<p> +“Hoot-toot!” said Uncle Ebenezer, “there’s a fine moon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Neither moon nor star, sir, and pit-mirk,”<a href="#fn2" +name="fnref2"><sup>[2]</sup></a> said I. “I cannae see the bed.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn2"></a> <a href="#fnref2">[2]</a> +Dark as the pit. +</p> + +<p> +“Hoot-toot, hoot-toot!” said he. “Lights in a house is a thing I dinnae agree +with. I’m unco feared of fires. Good-night to ye, Davie, my man.” And before I +had time to add a further protest, he pulled the door to, and I heard him lock +me in from the outside. +</p> + +<p> +I did not know whether to laugh or cry. The room was as cold as a well, and the +bed, when I had found my way to it, as damp as a peat-hag; but by good fortune +I had caught up my bundle and my plaid, and rolling myself in the latter, I lay +down upon the floor under lee of the big bedstead, and fell speedily asleep. +</p> + +<p> +With the first peep of day I opened my eyes, to find myself in a great chamber, +hung with stamped leather, furnished with fine embroidered furniture, and lit +by three fair windows. Ten years ago, or perhaps twenty, it must have been as +pleasant a room to lie down or to awake in as a man could wish; but damp, dirt, +disuse, and the mice and spiders had done their worst since then. Many of the +window-panes, besides, were broken; and indeed this was so common a feature in +that house, that I believe my uncle must at some time have stood a siege from +his indignant neighbours—perhaps with Jennet Clouston at their head. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the sun was shining outside; and being very cold in that miserable +room, I knocked and shouted till my gaoler came and let me out. He carried me +to the back of the house, where was a draw-well, and told me to “wash my face +there, if I wanted;” and when that was done, I made the best of my own way back +to the kitchen, where he had lit the fire and was making the porridge. The +table was laid with two bowls and two horn spoons, but the same single measure +of small beer. Perhaps my eye rested on this particular with some surprise, and +perhaps my uncle observed it; for he spoke up as if in answer to my thought, +asking me if I would like to drink ale—for so he called it. +</p> + +<p> +I told him such was my habit, but not to put himself about. +</p> + +<p> +“Na, na,” said he; “I’ll deny you nothing in reason.” +</p> + +<p> +He fetched another cup from the shelf; and then, to my great surprise, instead +of drawing more beer, he poured an accurate half from one cup to the other. +There was a kind of nobleness in this that took my breath away; if my uncle was +certainly a miser, he was one of that thorough breed that goes near to make the +vice respectable. +</p> + +<p> +When we had made an end of our meal, my uncle Ebenezer unlocked a drawer, and +drew out of it a clay pipe and a lump of tobacco, from which he cut one fill +before he locked it up again. Then he sat down in the sun at one of the windows +and silently smoked. From time to time his eyes came coasting round to me, and +he shot out one of his questions. Once it was, “And your mother?” and when I +had told him that she, too, was dead, “Ay, she was a bonnie lassie!” Then, +after another long pause, “Whae were these friends o’ yours?” +</p> + +<p> +I told him they were different gentlemen of the name of Campbell; though, +indeed, there was only one, and that the minister, that had ever taken the +least note of me; but I began to think my uncle made too light of my position, +and finding myself all alone with him, I did not wish him to suppose me +helpless. +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to turn this over in his mind; and then, “Davie, my man,” said he, +“ye’ve come to the right bit when ye came to your uncle Ebenezer. I’ve a great +notion of the family, and I mean to do the right by you; but while I’m taking a +bit think to mysel’ of what’s the best thing to put you to—whether the law, or +the meenistry, or maybe the army, whilk is what boys are fondest of—I wouldnae +like the Balfours to be humbled before a wheen Hieland Campbells, and I’ll ask +you to keep your tongue within your teeth. Nae letters; nae messages; no kind +of word to onybody; or else—there’s my door.” +</p> + +<p> +“Uncle Ebenezer,” said I, “I’ve no manner of reason to suppose you mean +anything but well by me. For all that, I would have you to know that I have a +pride of my own. It was by no will of mine that I came seeking you; and if you +show me your door again, I’ll take you at the word.” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed grievously put out. “Hoots-toots,” said he, “ca’ cannie, man—ca’ +cannie! Bide a day or two. I’m nae warlock, to find a fortune for you in the +bottom of a parritch bowl; but just you give me a day or two, and say naething +to naebody, and as sure as sure, I’ll do the right by you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said I, “enough said. If you want to help me, there’s no doubt but +I’ll be glad of it, and none but I’ll be grateful.” +</p> + +<p> +It seemed to me (too soon, I dare say) that I was getting the upper hand of my +uncle; and I began next to say that I must have the bed and bedclothes aired +and put to sun-dry; for nothing would make me sleep in such a pickle. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this my house or yours?” said he, in his keen voice, and then all of a +sudden broke off. “Na, na,” said he, “I didnae mean that. What’s mine is yours, +Davie, my man, and what’s yours is mine. Blood’s thicker than water; and +there’s naebody but you and me that ought the name.” And then on he rambled +about the family, and its ancient greatness, and his father that began to +enlarge the house, and himself that stopped the building as a sinful waste; and +this put it in my head to give him Jennet Clouston’s message. +</p> + +<p> +“The limmer!” he cried. “Twelve hunner and fifteen—that’s every day since I had +the limmer rowpit!<a href="#fn3" name="fnref3"><sup>[3]</sup></a> Dod, David, +I’ll have her roasted on red peats before I’m by with it! A witch—a proclaimed +witch! I’ll aff and see the session clerk.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn3"></a> <a href="#fnref3">[3]</a> +Sold up. +</p> + +<p> +And with that he opened a chest, and got out a very old and well-preserved blue +coat and waistcoat, and a good enough beaver hat, both without lace. These he +threw on any way, and taking a staff from the cupboard, locked all up again, +and was for setting out, when a thought arrested him. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannae leave you by yoursel’ in the house,” said he. “I’ll have to lock you +out.” +</p> + +<p> +The blood came to my face. “If you lock me out,” I said, “it’ll be the last +you’ll see of me in friendship.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned very pale, and sucked his mouth in. +</p> + +<p> +“This is no the way,” he said, looking wickedly at a corner of the floor—“this +is no the way to win my favour, David.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” says I, “with a proper reverence for your age and our common blood, I do +not value your favour at a boddle’s purchase. I was brought up to have a good +conceit of myself; and if you were all the uncle, and all the family, I had in +the world ten times over, I wouldn’t buy your liking at such prices.” +</p> + +<p> +Uncle Ebenezer went and looked out of the window for awhile. I could see him +all trembling and twitching, like a man with palsy. But when he turned round, +he had a smile upon his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well,” said he, “we must bear and forbear. I’ll no go; that’s all that’s +to be said of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Uncle Ebenezer,” I said, “I can make nothing out of this. You use me like a +thief; you hate to have me in this house; you let me see it, every word and +every minute: it’s not possible that you can like me; and as for me, I’ve +spoken to you as I never thought to speak to any man. Why do you seek to keep +me, then? Let me gang back—let me gang back to the friends I have, and that +like me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Na, na; na, na,” he said, very earnestly. “I like you fine; we’ll agree fine +yet; and for the honour of the house I couldnae let you leave the way ye came. +Bide here quiet, there’s a good lad; just you bide here quiet a bittie, and +ye’ll find that we agree.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” said I, after I had thought the matter out in silence, “I’ll stay +awhile. It’s more just I should be helped by my own blood than strangers; and +if we don’t agree, I’ll do my best it shall be through no fault of mine.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0046.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter IV" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0004"></a>CHAPTER IV<br/> +I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9046.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="F" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +or a day that was begun so ill, the day passed fairly well. We had the porridge +cold again at noon, and hot porridge at night; porridge and small beer was my +uncle’s diet. He spoke but little, and that in the same way as before, shooting +a question at me after a long silence; and when I sought to lead him to talk +about my future, slipped out of it again. In a room next door to the kitchen, +where he suffered me to go, I found a great number of books, both Latin and +English, in which I took great pleasure all the afternoon. Indeed, the time +passed so lightly in this good company, that I began to be almost reconciled to +my residence at Shaws; and nothing but the sight of my uncle, and his eyes +playing hide and seek with mine, revived the force of my distrust. +</p> + +<p> +One thing I discovered, which put me in some doubt. This was an entry on the +fly-leaf of a chap-book (one of Patrick Walker’s) plainly written by my +father’s hand and thus conceived: “To my brother Ebenezer on his fifth +birthday.” Now, what puzzled me was this: That, as my father was of course the +younger brother, he must either have made some strange error, or he must have +written, before he was yet five, an excellent, clear manly hand of writing. +</p> + +<p> +I tried to get this out of my head; but though I took down many interesting +authors, old and new, history, poetry, and story-book, this notion of my +father’s hand of writing stuck to me; and when at length I went back into the +kitchen, and sat down once more to porridge and small beer, the first thing I +said to Uncle Ebenezer was to ask him if my father had not been very quick at +his book. +</p> + +<p> +“Alexander? No him!” was the reply. “I was far quicker mysel’; I was a clever +chappie when I was young. Why, I could read as soon as he could.” +</p> + +<p> +This puzzled me yet more; and a thought coming into my head, I asked if he and +my father had been twins. +</p> + +<p> +He jumped upon his stool, and the horn spoon fell out of his hand upon the +floor. “What gars ye ask that?” he said, and he caught me by the breast of the +jacket, and looked this time straight into my eyes: his own were little and +light, and bright like a bird’s, blinking and winking strangely. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” I asked, very calmly, for I was far stronger than he, and +not easily frightened. “Take your hand from my jacket. This is no way to +behave.” +</p> + +<p> +My uncle seemed to make a great effort upon himself. “Dod man, David,” he said, +“ye should-nae speak to me about your father. That’s where the mistake is.” He +sat awhile and shook, blinking in his plate: “He was all the brother that ever +I had,” he added, but with no heart in his voice; and then he caught up his +spoon and fell to supper again, but still shaking. +</p> + +<p> +Now this last passage, this laying of hands upon my person and sudden +profession of love for my dead father, went so clean beyond my comprehension +that it put me into both fear and hope. On the one hand, I began to think my +uncle was perhaps insane and might be dangerous; on the other, there came up +into my mind (quite unbidden by me and even discouraged) a story like some +ballad I had heard folk singing, of a poor lad that was a rightful heir and a +wicked kinsman that tried to keep him from his own. For why should my uncle +play a part with a relative that came, almost a beggar, to his door, unless in +his heart he had some cause to fear him? +</p> + +<p> +With this notion, all unacknowledged, but nevertheless getting firmly settled +in my head, I now began to imitate his covert looks; so that we sat at table +like a cat and a mouse, each stealthily observing the other. Not another word +had he to say to me, black or white, but was busy turning something secretly +over in his mind; and the longer we sat and the more I looked at him, the more +certain I became that the something was unfriendly to myself. +</p> + +<p> +When he had cleared the platter, he got out a single pipeful of tobacco, just +as in the morning, turned round a stool into the chimney corner, and sat awhile +smoking, with his back to me. +</p> + +<p> +“Davie,” he said, at length, “I’ve been thinking;” then he paused, and said it +again. “There’s a wee bit siller that I half promised ye before ye were born,” +he continued; “promised it to your father. O, naething legal, ye understand; +just gentlemen daffing at their wine. Well, I keepit that bit money separate—it +was a great expense, but a promise is a promise—and it has grown by now to be a +matter of just precisely—just exactly”—and here he paused and stumbled—“of just +exactly forty pounds!” This last he rapped out with a sidelong glance over his +shoulder; and the next moment added, almost with a scream, “Scots!” +</p> + +<p> +The pound Scots being the same thing as an English shilling, the difference +made by this second thought was considerable; I could see, besides, that the +whole story was a lie, invented with some end which it puzzled me to guess; and +I made no attempt to conceal the tone of raillery in which I answered— +</p> + +<p> +“O, think again, sir! Pounds sterling, I believe!” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I said,” returned my uncle: “pounds sterling! And if you’ll step +out-by to the door a minute, just to see what kind of a night it is, I’ll get +it out to ye and call ye in again.” +</p> + +<p> +I did his will, smiling to myself in my contempt that he should think I was so +easily to be deceived. It was a dark night, with a few stars low down; and as I +stood just outside the door, I heard a hollow moaning of wind far off among the +hills. I said to myself there was something thundery and changeful in the +weather, and little knew of what a vast importance that should prove to me +before the evening passed. +</p> + +<p> +When I was called in again, my uncle counted out into my hand seven and thirty +golden guinea pieces; the rest was in his hand, in small gold and silver; but +his heart failed him there, and he crammed the change into his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“There,” said he, “that’ll show you! I’m a queer man, and strange wi’ +strangers; but my word is my bond, and there’s the proof of it.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, my uncle seemed so miserly that I was struck dumb by this sudden +generosity, and could find no words in which to thank him. +</p> + +<p> +“No a word!” said he. “Nae thanks; I want nae thanks. I do my duty. I’m no +saying that everybody would have done it; but for my part (though I’m a careful +body, too) it’s a pleasure to me to do the right by my brother’s son; and it’s +a pleasure to me to think that now we’ll agree as such near friends should.” +</p> + +<p> +I spoke him in return as handsomely as I was able; but all the while I was +wondering what would come next, and why he had parted with his precious +guineas; for as to the reason he had given, a baby would have refused it. +</p> + +<p> +Presently he looked towards me sideways. +</p> + +<p> +“And see here,” says he, “tit for tat.” +</p> + +<p> +I told him I was ready to prove my gratitude in any reasonable degree, and then +waited, looking for some monstrous demand. And yet, when at last he plucked up +courage to speak, it was only to tell me (very properly, as I thought) that he +was growing old and a little broken, and that he would expect me to help him +with the house and the bit garden. +</p> + +<p> +I answered, and expressed my readiness to serve. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he said, “let’s begin.” He pulled out of his pocket a rusty key. +“There,” says he, “there’s the key of the stair-tower at the far end of the +house. Ye can only win into it from the outside, for that part of the house is +no finished. Gang ye in there, and up the stairs, and bring me down the chest +that’s at the top. There’s papers in’t,” he added. +</p> + +<p> +“Can I have a light, sir?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Na,” said he, very cunningly. “Nae lights in my house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, sir,” said I. “Are the stairs good?” +</p> + +<p> +“They’re grand,” said he; and then, as I was going, “Keep to the wall,” he +added; “there’s nae bannisters. But the stairs are grand underfoot.” +</p> + +<p> +Out I went into the night. The wind was still moaning in the distance, though +never a breath of it came near the house of Shaws. It had fallen blacker than +ever; and I was glad to feel along the wall, till I came the length of the +stairtower door at the far end of the unfinished wing. I had got the key into +the keyhole and had just turned it, when all upon a sudden, without sound of +wind or thunder, the whole sky lighted up with wild fire and went black again. +I had to put my hand over my eyes to get back to the colour of the darkness; +and indeed I was already half blinded when I stepped into the tower. +</p> + +<p> +It was so dark inside, it seemed a body could scarce breathe; but I pushed out +with foot and hand, and presently struck the wall with the one, and the +lowermost round of the stair with the other. The wall, by the touch, was of +fine hewn stone; the steps too, though somewhat steep and narrow, were of +polished masonwork, and regular and solid underfoot. Minding my uncle’s word +about the bannisters, I kept close to the tower side, and felt my way in the +pitch darkness with a beating heart. +</p> + +<p> +The house of Shaws stood some five full storeys high, not counting lofts. Well, +as I advanced, it seemed to me the stair grew airier and a thought more +lightsome; and I was wondering what might be the cause of this change, when a +second blink of the summer lightning came and went. If I did not cry out, it +was because fear had me by the throat; and if I did not fall, it was more by +Heaven’s mercy than my own strength. It was not only that the flash shone in on +every side through breaches in the wall, so that I seemed to be clambering +aloft upon an open scaffold, but the same passing brightness showed me the +steps were of unequal length, and that one of my feet rested that moment within +two inches of the well. +</p> + +<p> +This was the grand stair! I thought; and with the thought, a gust of a kind of +angry courage came into my heart. My uncle had sent me here, certainly to run +great risks, perhaps to die. I swore I would settle that “perhaps,” if I should +break my neck for it; got me down upon my hands and knees; and as slowly as a +snail, feeling before me every inch, and testing the solidity of every stone, I +continued to ascend the stair. The darkness, by contrast with the flash, +appeared to have redoubled; nor was that all, for my ears were now troubled and +my mind confounded by a great stir of bats in the top part of the tower, and +the foul beasts, flying downwards, sometimes beat about my face and body. +</p> + +<p> +The tower, I should have said, was square; and in every corner the step was +made of a great stone of a different shape to join the flights. Well, I had +come close to one of these turns, when, feeling forward as usual, my hand +slipped upon an edge and found nothing but emptiness beyond it. The stair had +been carried no higher; to set a stranger mounting it in the darkness was to +send him straight to his death; and (although, thanks to the lightning and my +own precautions, I was safe enough) the mere thought of the peril in which I +might have stood, and the dreadful height I might have fallen from, brought out +the sweat upon my body and relaxed my joints. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0053.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="My hand slipped upon an +edge and found nothing but emptiness beyond it" /> +</div> + +<p> +But I knew what I wanted now, and turned and groped my way down again, with a +wonderful anger in my heart. About half-way down, the wind sprang up in a clap +and shook the tower, and died again; the rain followed; and before I had +reached the ground level it fell in buckets. I put out my head into the storm, +and looked along towards the kitchen. The door, which I had shut behind me when +I left, now stood open, and shed a little glimmer of light; and I thought I +could see a figure standing in the rain, quite still, like a man hearkening. +And then there came a blinding flash, which showed me my uncle plainly, just +where I had fancied him to stand; and hard upon the heels of it, a great +tow-row of thunder. +</p> + +<p> +Now, whether my uncle thought the crash to be the sound of my fall, or whether +he heard in it God’s voice denouncing murder, I will leave you to guess. +Certain it is, at least, that he was seized on by a kind of panic fear, and +that he ran into the house and left the door open behind him. I followed as +softly as I could, and, coming unheard into the kitchen, stood and watched him. +</p> + +<p> +He had found time to open the corner cupboard and bring out a great case bottle +of aqua vitae, and now sat with his back towards me at the table. Ever and +again he would be seized with a fit of deadly shuddering and groan aloud, and +carrying the bottle to his lips, drink down the raw spirits by the mouthful. +</p> + +<p> +I stepped forward, came close behind him where he sat, and suddenly clapping my +two hands down upon his shoulders—“Ah!” cried I. +</p> + +<p> +My uncle gave a kind of broken cry like a sheep’s bleat, flung up his arms, and +tumbled to the floor like a dead man. I was somewhat shocked at this; but I had +myself to look to first of all, and did not hesitate to let him lie as he had +fallen. The keys were hanging in the cupboard; and it was my design to furnish +myself with arms before my uncle should come again to his senses and the power +of devising evil. In the cupboard were a few bottles, some apparently of +medicine; a great many bills and other papers, which I should willingly enough +have rummaged, had I had the time; and a few necessaries that were nothing to +my purpose. Thence I turned to the chests. The first was full of meal; the +second of moneybags and papers tied into sheaves; in the third, with many other +things (and these for the most part clothes) I found a rusty, ugly-looking +Highland dirk without the scabbard. This, then, I concealed inside my +waistcoat, and turned to my uncle. +</p> + +<p> +He lay as he had fallen, all huddled, with one knee up and one arm sprawling +abroad; his face had a strange colour of blue, and he seemed to have ceased +breathing. Fear came on me that he was dead; then I got water and dashed it in +his face; and with that he seemed to come a little to himself, working his +mouth and fluttering his eyelids. At last he looked up and saw me, and there +came into his eyes a terror that was not of this world. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come,” said I; “sit up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are ye alive?” he sobbed. “O man, are ye alive?” +</p> + +<p> +“That am I,” said I. “Small thanks to you!” +</p> + +<p> +He had begun to seek for his breath with deep sighs. “The blue phial,” said +he—“in the aumry—the blue phial.” His breath came slower still. +</p> + +<p> +I ran to the cupboard, and, sure enough, found there a blue phial of medicine, +with the dose written on it on a paper, and this I administered to him with +what speed I might. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the trouble,” said he, reviving a little; “I have a trouble, Davie. It’s +the heart.” +</p> + +<p> +I set him on a chair and looked at him. It is true I felt some pity for a man +that looked so sick, but I was full besides of righteous anger; and I numbered +over before him the points on which I wanted explanation: why he lied to me at +every word; why he feared that I should leave him; why he disliked it to be +hinted that he and my father were twins—“Is that because it is true?” I asked; +why he had given me money to which I was convinced I had no claim; and, last of +all, why he had tried to kill me. He heard me all through in silence; and then, +in a broken voice, begged me to let him go to bed. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell ye the morn,” he said; “as sure as death I will.” +</p> + +<p> +And so weak was he that I could do nothing but consent. I locked him into his +room, however, and pocketed the key, and then returning to the kitchen, made up +such a blaze as had not shone there for many a long year, and wrapping myself +in my plaid, lay down upon the chests and fell asleep. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0057.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter V" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0005"></a>CHAPTER V<br/> +I GO TO THE QUEEN’S FERRY</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9057.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="M" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +uch rain fell in the night; and the next morning there blew a bitter wintry +wind out of the north-west, driving scattered clouds. For all that, and before +the sun began to peep or the last of the stars had vanished, I made my way to +the side of the burn, and had a plunge in a deep whirling pool. All aglow from +my bath, I sat down once more beside the fire, which I replenished, and began +gravely to consider my position. +</p> + +<p> +There was now no doubt about my uncle’s enmity; there was no doubt I carried my +life in my hand, and he would leave no stone unturned that he might compass my +destruction. But I was young and spirited, and like most lads that have been +country-bred, I had a great opinion of my shrewdness. I had come to his door no +better than a beggar and little more than a child; he had met me with treachery +and violence; it would be a fine consummation to take the upper hand, and drive +him like a herd of sheep. +</p> + +<p> +I sat there nursing my knee and smiling at the fire; and I saw myself in fancy +smell out his secrets one after another, and grow to be that man’s king and +ruler. The warlock of Essendean, they say, had made a mirror in which men could +read the future; it must have been of other stuff than burning coal; for in all +the shapes and pictures that I sat and gazed at, there was never a ship, never +a seaman with a hairy cap, never a big bludgeon for my silly head, or the least +sign of all those tribulations that were ripe to fall on me. +</p> + +<p> +Presently, all swollen with conceit, I went up-stairs and gave my prisoner his +liberty. He gave me good-morning civilly; and I gave the same to him, smiling +down upon him, from the heights of my sufficiency. Soon we were set to +breakfast, as it might have been the day before. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” said I, with a jeering tone, “have you nothing more to say to me?” +And then, as he made no articulate reply, “It will be time, I think, to +understand each other,” I continued. “You took me for a country Johnnie Raw, +with no more mother-wit or courage than a porridge-stick. I took you for a good +man, or no worse than others at the least. It seems we were both wrong. What +cause you have to fear me, to cheat me, and to attempt my life—” +</p> + +<p> +He murmured something about a jest, and that he liked a bit of fun; and then, +seeing me smile, changed his tone, and assured me he would make all clear as +soon as we had breakfasted. I saw by his face that he had no lie ready for me, +though he was hard at work preparing one; and I think I was about to tell him +so, when we were interrupted by a knocking at the door. +</p> + +<p> +Bidding my uncle sit where he was, I went to open it, and found on the doorstep +a half-grown boy in sea-clothes. He had no sooner seen me than he began to +dance some steps of the sea-hornpipe (which I had never before heard of far +less seen), snapping his fingers in the air and footing it right cleverly. For +all that, he was blue with the cold; and there was something in his face, a +look between tears and laughter, that was highly pathetic and consisted ill +with this gaiety of manner. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0059.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Snapping his fingers in +the air and footing it right cleverly" /> +</div> + +<p> +“What cheer, mate?” says he, with a cracked voice. +</p> + +<p> +I asked him soberly to name his pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +“O, pleasure!” says he; and then began to sing: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“For it’s my delight, of a shiny night,<br/> +In the season of the year.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said I, “if you have no business at all, I will even be so unmannerly +as to shut you out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stay, brother!” he cried. “Have you no fun about you? or do you want to get me +thrashed? I’ve brought a letter from old Heasyoasy to Mr. Belflower.” He showed +me a letter as he spoke. “And I say, mate,” he added, “I’m mortal hungry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said I, “come into the house, and you shall have a bite if I go empty +for it.” +</p> + +<p> +With that I brought him in and set him down to my own place, where he fell-to +greedily on the remains of breakfast, winking to me between whiles, and making +many faces, which I think the poor soul considered manly. Meanwhile, my uncle +had read the letter and sat thinking; then, suddenly, he got to his feet with a +great air of liveliness, and pulled me apart into the farthest corner of the +room. +</p> + +<p> +“Read that,” said he, and put the letter in my hand. +</p> + +<p> +Here it is, lying before me as I write: +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“The Hawes Inn, at the Queen’s Ferry. +</p> + +<p> +“S<small>IR</small>,—I lie here with my hawser up and down, and send my +cabin-boy to informe. If you have any further commands for over-seas, to-day +will be the last occasion, as the wind will serve us well out of the firth. I +will not seek to deny that I have had crosses with your doer,<a href="#fn4" +name="fnref4"><sup>[4]</sup></a> Mr. Rankeillor; of which, if not speedily redd +up, you may looke to see some losses follow. I have drawn a bill upon you, as +per margin, and am, sir, your most obedt., humble servant, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“E<small>LIAS</small> H<small>OSEASON</small>.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn4"></a> <a href="#fnref4">[4]</a> +Agent. +</p> + +<p> +“You see, Davie,” resumed my uncle, as soon as he saw that I had done, “I have +a venture with this man Hoseason, the captain of a trading brig, the +<i>Covenant</i>, of Dysart. Now, if you and me was to walk over with yon lad, I +could see the captain at the Hawes, or maybe on board the <i>Covenant</i> if +there was papers to be signed; and so far from a loss of time, we can jog on to +the lawyer, Mr. Rankeillor’s. After a’ that’s come and gone, ye would be +swier<a href="#fn5" name="fnref5"><sup>[5]</sup></a> to believe me upon my +naked word; but ye’ll believe Rankeillor. He’s factor to half the gentry in +these parts; an auld man, forby: highly respeckit, and he kenned your father.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn5"></a> <a href="#fnref5">[5]</a> +Unwilling. +</p> + +<p> +I stood awhile and thought. I was going to some place of shipping, which was +doubtless populous, and where my uncle durst attempt no violence, and, indeed, +even the society of the cabin-boy so far protected me. Once there, I believed I +could force on the visit to the lawyer, even if my uncle were now insincere in +proposing it; and, perhaps, in the bottom of my heart, I wished a nearer view +of the sea and ships. You are to remember I had lived all my life in the inland +hills, and just two days before had my first sight of the firth lying like a +blue floor, and the sailed ships moving on the face of it, no bigger than toys. +One thing with another, I made up my mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” says I, “let us go to the Ferry.” +</p> + +<p> +My uncle got into his hat and coat, and buckled an old rusty cutlass on; and +then we trod the fire out, locked the door, and set forth upon our walk. +</p> + +<p> +The wind, being in that cold quarter the north-west, blew nearly in our faces +as we went. It was the month of June; the grass was all white with daisies, and +the trees with blossom; but, to judge by our blue nails and aching wrists, the +time might have been winter and the whiteness a December frost. +</p> + +<p> +Uncle Ebenezer trudged in the ditch, jogging from side to side like an old +ploughman coming home from work. He never said a word the whole way; and I was +thrown for talk on the cabin-boy. He told me his name was Ransome, and that he +had followed the sea since he was nine, but could not say how old he was, as he +had lost his reckoning. He showed me tattoo marks, baring his breast in the +teeth of the wind and in spite of my remonstrances, for I thought it was enough +to kill him; he swore horribly whenever he remembered, but more like a silly +schoolboy than a man; and boasted of many wild and bad things that he had done: +stealthy thefts, false accusations, ay, and even murder; but all with such a +dearth of likelihood in the details, and such a weak and crazy swagger in the +delivery, as disposed me rather to pity than to believe him. +</p> + +<p> +I asked him of the brig (which he declared was the finest ship that sailed) and +of Captain Hoseason, in whose praises he was equally loud. Heasyoasy (for so he +still named the skipper) was a man, by his account, that minded for nothing +either in heaven or earth; one that, as people said, would “crack on all sail +into the day of judgment;” rough, fierce, unscrupulous, and brutal; and all +this my poor cabin-boy had taught himself to admire as something seamanlike and +manly. He would only admit one flaw in his idol. “He ain’t no seaman,” he +admitted. “That’s Mr. Shuan that navigates the brig; he’s the finest seaman in +the trade, only for drink; and I tell you I believe it! Why, look’ere;” and +turning down his stocking he showed me a great, raw, red wound that made my +blood run cold. “He done that—Mr. Shuan done it,” he said, with an air of +pride. +</p> + +<p> +“What!” I cried, “do you take such savage usage at his hands? Why, you are no +slave, to be so handled!” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said the poor moon-calf, changing his tune at once, “and so he’ll find. +See’ere;” and he showed me a great case-knife, which he told me was stolen. +“O,” says he, “let me see him try; I dare him to; I’ll do for him! O, he ain’t +the first!” And he confirmed it with a poor, silly, ugly oath. +</p> + +<p> +I have never felt such pity for any one in this wide world as I felt for that +half-witted creature, and it began to come over me that the brig +<i>Covenant</i> (for all her pious name) was little better than a hell upon the +seas. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you no friends?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +He said he had a father in some English seaport, I forget which. +</p> + +<p> +“He was a fine man, too,” he said, “but he’s dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“In Heaven’s name,” cried I, “can you find no reputable life on shore?” +</p> + +<p> +“O, no,” says he, winking and looking very sly, “they would put me to a trade. +I know a trick worth two of that, I do!” +</p> + +<p> +I asked him what trade could be so dreadful as the one he followed, where he +ran the continual peril of his life, not alone from wind and sea, but by the +horrid cruelty of those who were his masters. He said it was very true; and +then began to praise the life, and tell what a pleasure it was to get on shore +with money in his pocket, and spend it like a man, and buy apples, and swagger, +and surprise what he called stick-in-the-mud boys. “And then it’s not all as +bad as that,” says he; “there’s worse off than me: there’s the twenty-pounders. +O, laws! you should see them taking on. Why, I’ve seen a man as old as you, I +dessay”—(to him I seemed old)—“ah, and he had a beard, too—well, and as soon as +we cleared out of the river, and he had the drug out of his head—my! how he +cried and carried on! I made a fine fool of him, I tell you! And then there’s +little uns, too: oh, little by me! I tell you, I keep them in order. When we +carry little uns, I have a rope’s end of my own to wollop’em.” And so he ran +on, until it came in on me what he meant by twenty-pounders were those unhappy +criminals who were sent over-seas to slavery in North America, or the still +more unhappy innocents who were kidnapped or trepanned (as the word went) for +private interest or vengeance. +</p> + +<p> +Just then we came to the top of the hill, and looked down on the Ferry and the +Hope. The Firth of Forth (as is very well known) narrows at this point to the +width of a good-sized river, which makes a convenient ferry going north, and +turns the upper reach into a landlocked haven for all manner of ships. Right in +the midst of the narrows lies an islet with some ruins; on the south shore they +have built a pier for the service of the Ferry; and at the end of the pier, on +the other side of the road, and backed against a pretty garden of holly-trees +and hawthorns, I could see the building which they called the Hawes Inn. +</p> + +<p> +The town of Queensferry lies farther west, and the neighbourhood of the inn +looked pretty lonely at that time of day, for the boat had just gone north with +passengers. A skiff, however, lay beside the pier, with some seamen sleeping on +the thwarts; this, as Ransome told me, was the brig’s boat waiting for the +captain; and about half a mile off, and all alone in the anchorage, he showed +me the <i>Covenant</i> herself. There was a sea-going bustle on board; yards +were swinging into place; and as the wind blew from that quarter, I could hear +the song of the sailors as they pulled upon the ropes. After all I had listened +to upon the way, I looked at that ship with an extreme abhorrence; and from the +bottom of my heart I pitied all poor souls that were condemned to sail in her. +</p> + +<p> +We had all three pulled up on the brow of the hill; and now I marched across +the road and addressed my uncle. “I think it right to tell you, sir,” says I, +“there’s nothing that will bring me on board that <i>Covenant</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to waken from a dream. “Eh?” he said. “What’s that?” +</p> + +<p> +I told him over again. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well,” he said, “we’ll have to please ye, I suppose. But what are we +standing here for? It’s perishing cold; and if I’m no mistaken, they’re busking +the <i>Covenant</i> for sea.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0066.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter VI" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0006"></a>CHAPTER VI<br/> +WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN’S FERRY</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9066.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="A" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +s soon as we came to the inn, Ransome led us up the stair to a small room, with +a bed in it, and heated like an oven by a great fire of coal. At a table hard +by the chimney, a tall, dark, sober-looking man sat writing. In spite of the +heat of the room, he wore a thick sea-jacket, buttoned to the neck, and a tall +hairy cap drawn down over his ears; yet I never saw any man, not even a judge +upon the bench, look cooler, or more studious and self-possessed, than this +ship-captain. +</p> + +<p> +He got to his feet at once, and coming forward, offered his large hand to +Ebenezer. “I am proud to see you, Mr. Balfour,” said he, in a fine deep voice, +“and glad that ye are here in time. The wind’s fair, and the tide upon the +turn; we’ll see the old coal-bucket burning on the Isle of May before +to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Captain Hoseason,” returned my uncle, “you keep your room unco hot.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a habit I have, Mr. Balfour,” said the skipper. “I’m a cold-rife man by +my nature; I have a cold blood, sir. There’s neither fur, nor flannel—no, sir, +nor hot rum, will warm up what they call the temperature. Sir, it’s the same +with most men that have been carbonadoed, as they call it, in the tropic seas.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, captain,” replied my uncle, “we must all be the way we’re made.” +</p> + +<p> +But it chanced that this fancy of the captain’s had a great share in my +misfortunes. For though I had promised myself not to let my kinsman out of +sight, I was both so impatient for a nearer look of the sea, and so sickened by +the closeness of the room, that when he told me to “run down-stairs and play +myself awhile,” I was fool enough to take him at his word. +</p> + +<p> +Away I went, therefore, leaving the two men sitting down to a bottle and a +great mass of papers; and crossing the road in front of the inn, walked down +upon the beach. With the wind in that quarter, only little wavelets, not much +bigger than I had seen upon a lake, beat upon the shore. But the weeds were new +to me—some green, some brown and long, and some with little bladders that +crackled between my fingers. Even so far up the firth, the smell of the +sea-water was exceedingly salt and stirring; the <i>Covenant</i>, besides, was +beginning to shake out her sails, which hung upon the yards in clusters; and +the spirit of all that I beheld put me in thoughts of far voyages and foreign +places. +</p> + +<p> +I looked, too, at the seamen with the skiff—big brown fellows, some in shirts, +some with jackets, some with coloured handkerchiefs about their throats, one +with a brace of pistols stuck into his pockets, two or three with knotty +bludgeons, and all with their case-knives. I passed the time of day with one +that looked less desperate than his fellows, and asked him of the sailing of +the brig. He said they would get under way as soon as the ebb set, and +expressed his gladness to be out of a port where there were no taverns and +fiddlers; but all with such horrifying oaths, that I made haste to get away +from him. +</p> + +<p> +This threw me back on Ransome, who seemed the least wicked of that gang, and +who soon came out of the inn and ran to me, crying for a bowl of punch. I told +him I would give him no such thing, for neither he nor I was of an age for such +indulgences. “But a glass of ale you may have, and welcome,” said I. He mopped +and mowed at me, and called me names; but he was glad to get the ale, for all +that; and presently we were set down at a table in the front room of the inn, +and both eating and drinking with a good appetite. +</p> + +<p> +Here it occurred to me that, as the landlord was a man of that county, I might +do well to make a friend of him. I offered him a share, as was much the custom +in those days; but he was far too great a man to sit with such poor customers +as Ransome and myself, and he was leaving the room, when I called him back to +ask if he knew Mr. Rankeillor. +</p> + +<p> +“Hoot, ay,” says he, “and a very honest man. And, O, by-the-by,” says he, “was +it you that came in with Ebenezer?” And when I had told him yes, “Ye’ll be no +friend of his?” he asked, meaning, in the Scottish way, that I would be no +relative. +</p> + +<p> +I told him no, none. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought not,” said he, “and yet ye have a kind of gliff<a href="#fn6" +name="fnref6"><sup>[6]</sup></a> of Mr. Alexander.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn6"></a> <a href="#fnref6">[6]</a> +Look. +</p> + +<p> +I said it seemed that Ebenezer was ill-seen in the country. +</p> + +<p> +“Nae doubt,” said the landlord. “He’s a wicked auld man, and there’s many would +like to see him girning in the tow.<a href="#fn7" +name="fnref7"><sup>[7]</sup></a> Jennet Clouston and mony mair that he has +harried out of house and hame. And yet he was ance a fine young fellow, too. +But that was before the sough<a href="#fn8" name="fnref8"><sup>[8]</sup></a> +gaed abroad about Mr. Alexander, that was like the death of him.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn7"></a> <a href="#fnref7">[7]</a> +Rope. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn8"></a> <a href="#fnref8">[8]</a> +Report. +</p> + +<p> +“And what was it?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Ou, just that he had killed him,” said the landlord. “Did ye never hear that?” +</p> + +<p> +“And what would he kill him for?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“And what for, but just to get the place,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“The place?” said I. “The Shaws?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nae other place that I ken,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, man?” said I. “Is that so? Was my—was Alexander the eldest son?” +</p> + +<p> +“‘Deed was he,” said the landlord. “What else would he have killed him for?” +</p> + +<p> +And with that he went away, as he had been impatient to do from the beginning. +</p> + +<p> +Of course, I had guessed it a long while ago; but it is one thing to guess, +another to know; and I sat stunned with my good fortune, and could scarce grow +to believe that the same poor lad who had trudged in the dust from Ettrick +Forest not two days ago, was now one of the rich of the earth, and had a house +and broad lands, and might mount his horse tomorrow. All these pleasant things, +and a thousand others, crowded into my mind, as I sat staring before me out of +the inn window, and paying no heed to what I saw; only I remember that my eye +lighted on Captain Hoseason down on the pier among his seamen, and speaking +with some authority. And presently he came marching back towards the house, +with no mark of a sailor’s clumsiness, but carrying his fine, tall figure with +a manly bearing, and still with the same sober, grave expression on his face. I +wondered if it was possible that Ransome’s stories could be true, and half +disbelieved them; they fitted so ill with the man’s looks. But indeed, he was +neither so good as I supposed him, nor quite so bad as Ransome did; for, in +fact, he was two men, and left the better one behind as soon as he set foot on +board his vessel. +</p> + +<p> +The next thing, I heard my uncle calling me, and found the pair in the road +together. It was the captain who addressed me, and that with an air (very +flattering to a young lad) of grave equality. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said he, “Mr. Balfour tells me great things of you; and for my own part, +I like your looks. I wish I was for longer here, that we might make the better +friends; but we’ll make the most of what we have. Ye shall come on board my +brig for half an hour, till the ebb sets, and drink a bowl with me.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, I longed to see the inside of a ship more than words can tell; but I was +not going to put myself in jeopardy, and I told him my uncle and I had an +appointment with a lawyer. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, ay,” said he, “he passed me word of that. But, ye see, the boat’ll set ye +ashore at the town pier, and that’s but a penny stonecast from Rankeillor’s +house.” And here he suddenly leaned down and whispered in my ear: “Take care of +the old tod;<a href="#fn9" name="fnref9"><sup>[9]</sup></a> he means mischief. +Come aboard till I can get a word with ye.” And then, passing his arm through +mine, he continued aloud, as he set off towards his boat: “But, come, what can +I bring ye from the Carolinas? Any friend of Mr. Balfour’s can command. A roll +of tobacco? Indian feather-work? a skin of a wild beast? a stone pipe? the +mocking-bird that mews for all the world like a cat? the cardinal bird that is +as red as blood?—take your pick and say your pleasure.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn9"></a> <a href="#fnref9">[9]</a> +Fox. +</p> + +<p> +By this time we were at the boat-side, and he was handing me in. I did not +dream of hanging back; I thought (the poor fool!) that I had found a good +friend and helper, and I was rejoiced to see the ship. As soon as we were all +set in our places, the boat was thrust off from the pier and began to move over +the waters: and what with my pleasure in this new movement and my surprise at +our low position, and the appearance of the shores, and the growing bigness of +the brig as we drew near to it, I could hardly understand what the captain +said, and must have answered him at random. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as we were alongside (where I sat fairly gaping at the ship’s height, +the strong humming of the tide against its sides, and the pleasant cries of the +seamen at their work) Hoseason, declaring that he and I must be the first +aboard, ordered a tackle to be sent down from the main-yard. In this I was +whipped into the air and set down again on the deck, where the captain stood +ready waiting for me, and instantly slipped back his arm under mine. There I +stood some while, a little dizzy with the unsteadiness of all around me, +perhaps a little afraid, and yet vastly pleased with these strange sights; the +captain meanwhile pointing out the strangest, and telling me their names and +uses. +</p> + +<p> +“But where is my uncle?” said I suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said Hoseason, with a sudden grimness, “that’s the point.” +</p> + +<p> +I felt I was lost. With all my strength, I plucked myself clear of him and ran +to the bulwarks. Sure enough, there was the boat pulling for the town, with my +uncle sitting in the stern. I gave a piercing cry—“Help, help! Murder!”—so that +both sides of the anchorage rang with it, and my uncle turned round where he +was sitting, and showed me a face full of cruelty and terror. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0071.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="I gave a piercing cry-- +Help, Help! Murger!" /> +</div> + +<p> +It was the last I saw. Already strong hands had been plucking me back from the +ship’s side; and now a thunderbolt seemed to strike me; I saw a great flash of +fire, and fell senseless. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0074.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter VII" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0007"></a>CHAPTER VII<br/> +I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG <i>COVENANT</i> OF DYSART</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9074.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="I" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p> +came to myself in darkness, in great pain, bound hand and foot, and deafened by +many unfamiliar noises. There sounded in my ears a roaring of water as of a +huge mill-dam, the thrashing of heavy sprays, the thundering of the sails, and +the shrill cries of seamen. The whole world now heaved giddily up, and now +rushed giddily downward; and so sick and hurt was I in body, and my mind so +much confounded, that it took me a long while, chasing my thoughts up and down, +and ever stunned again by a fresh stab of pain, to realise that I must be lying +somewhere bound in the belly of that unlucky ship, and that the wind must have +strengthened to a gale. With the clear perception of my plight, there fell upon +me a blackness of despair, a horror of remorse at my own folly, and a passion +of anger at my uncle, that once more bereft me of my senses. +</p> + +<p> +When I returned again to life, the same uproar, the same confused and violent +movements, shook and deafened me; and presently, to my other pains and +distresses, there was added the sickness of an unused landsman on the sea. In +that time of my adventurous youth, I suffered many hardships; but none that was +so crushing to my mind and body, or lit by so few hopes, as these first hours +aboard the brig. +</p> + +<p> +I heard a gun fire, and supposed the storm had proved too strong for us, and we +were firing signals of distress. The thought of deliverance, even by death in +the deep sea, was welcome to me. Yet it was no such matter; but (as I was +afterwards told) a common habit of the captain’s, which I here set down to show +that even the worst man may have his kindlier side. We were then passing, it +appeared, within some miles of Dysart, where the brig was built, and where old +Mrs. Hoseason, the captain’s mother, had come some years before to live; and +whether outward or inward bound, the <i>Covenant</i> was never suffered to go +by that place by day, without a gun fired and colours shown. +</p> + +<p> +I had no measure of time; day and night were alike in that ill-smelling cavern +of the ship’s bowels where I lay; and the misery of my situation drew out the +hours to double. How long, therefore, I lay waiting to hear the ship split upon +some rock, or to feel her reel head foremost into the depths of the sea, I have +not the means of computation. But sleep at length stole from me the +consciousness of sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +I was awakened by the light of a hand-lantern shining in my face. A small man +of about thirty, with green eyes and a tangle of fair hair, stood looking down +at me. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0077.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="I was awakened..." /> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0079.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="I was awakened by the +light of a lantern shining in my face" /> +</div> + +<p> +“Well,” said he, “how goes it?” +</p> + +<p> +I answered by a sob; and my visitor then felt my pulse and temples, and set +himself to wash and dress the wound upon my scalp. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said he, “a sore dunt.<a href="#fn10" name="fnref10"><sup>[10]</sup></a> +What, man? Cheer up! The world’s no done; you’ve made a bad start of it but +you’ll make a better. Have you had any meat?” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn10"></a> <a href="#fnref10">[10]</a> +Stroke. +</p> + +<p> +I said I could not look at it: and thereupon he gave me some brandy and water +in a tin pannikin, and left me once more to myself. +</p> + +<p> +The next time he came to see me, I was lying betwixt sleep and waking, my eyes +wide open in the darkness, the sickness quite departed, but succeeded by a +horrid giddiness and swimming that was almost worse to bear. I ached, besides, +in every limb, and the cords that bound me seemed to be of fire. The smell of +the hole in which I lay seemed to have become a part of me; and during the long +interval since his last visit I had suffered tortures of fear, now from the +scurrying of the ship’s rats, that sometimes pattered on my very face, and now +from the dismal imaginings that haunt the bed of fever. +</p> + +<p> +The glimmer of the lantern, as a trap opened, shone in like the heaven’s +sunlight; and though it only showed me the strong, dark beams of the ship that +was my prison, I could have cried aloud for gladness. The man with the green +eyes was the first to descend the ladder, and I noticed that he came somewhat +unsteadily. He was followed by the captain. Neither said a word; but the first +set to and examined me, and dressed my wound as before, while Hoseason looked +me in my face with an odd, black look. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, sir, you see for yourself,” said the first: “a high fever, no appetite, +no light, no meat: you see for yourself what that means.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am no conjurer, Mr. Riach,” said the captain. +</p> + +<p> +“Give me leave, sir,” said Riach; “you’ve a good head upon your shoulders, and +a good Scotch tongue to ask with; but I will leave you no manner of excuse; I +want that boy taken out of this hole and put in the forecastle.” +</p> + +<p> +“What ye may want, sir, is a matter of concern to nobody but yoursel’,” +returned the captain; “but I can tell ye that which is to be. Here he is; here +he shall bide.” +</p> + +<p> +“Admitting that you have been paid in a proportion,” said the other, “I will +crave leave humbly to say that I have not. Paid I am, and none too much, to be +the second officer of this old tub, and you ken very well if I do my best to +earn it. But I was paid for nothing more.” +</p> + +<p> +“If ye could hold back your hand from the tin-pan, Mr. Riach, I would have no +complaint to make of ye,” returned the skipper; “and instead of asking riddles, +I make bold to say that ye would keep your breath to cool your porridge. We’ll +be required on deck,” he added, in a sharper note, and set one foot upon the +ladder. +</p> + +<p> +But Mr. Riach caught him by the sleeve. +</p> + +<p> +“Admitting that you have been paid to do a murder——” he began. +</p> + +<p> +Hoseason turned upon him with a flash. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that?” he cried. “What kind of talk is that?” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems it is the talk that you can understand,” said Mr. Riach, looking him +steadily in the face. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Riach, I have sailed with ye three cruises,” replied the captain. “In all +that time, sir, ye should have learned to know me: I’m a stiff man, and a dour +man; but for what ye say the now—fie, fie!—it comes from a bad heart and a +black conscience. If ye say the lad will die——” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, will he!” said Mr. Riach. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir, is not that enough?” said Hoseason. “Flit him where ye please!” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon the captain ascended the ladder; and I, who had lain silent +throughout this strange conversation, beheld Mr. Riach turn after him and bow +as low as to his knees in what was plainly a spirit of derision. Even in my +then state of sickness, I perceived two things: that the mate was touched with +liquor, as the captain hinted, and that (drunk or sober) he was like to prove a +valuable friend. +</p> + +<p> +Five minutes afterwards my bonds were cut, I was hoisted on a man’s back, +carried up to the forecastle, and laid in a bunk on some sea-blankets; where +the first thing that I did was to lose my senses. +</p> + +<p> +It was a blessed thing indeed to open my eyes again upon the daylight, and to +find myself in the society of men. The forecastle was a roomy place enough, set +all about with berths, in which the men of the watch below were seated smoking, +or lying down asleep. The day being calm and the wind fair, the scuttle was +open, and not only the good daylight, but from time to time (as the ship +rolled) a dusty beam of sunlight shone in, and dazzled and delighted me. I had +no sooner moved, moreover, than one of the men brought me a drink of something +healing which Mr. Riach had prepared, and bade me lie still and I should soon +be well again. There were no bones broken, he explained: “A clour<a +href="#fn11" name="fnref11"><sup>[11]</sup></a> on the head was naething. Man,” +said he, “it was me that gave it ye!” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn11"></a> <a href="#fnref11">[11]</a> +Blow. +</p> + +<p> +Here I lay for the space of many days a close prisoner, and not only got my +health again, but came to know my companions. They were a rough lot indeed, as +sailors mostly are: being men rooted out of all the kindly parts of life, and +condemned to toss together on the rough seas, with masters no less cruel. There +were some among them that had sailed with the pirates and seen things it would +be a shame even to speak of; some were men that had run from the king’s ships, +and went with a halter round their necks, of which they made no secret; and +all, as the saying goes, were “at a word and a blow” with their best friends. +Yet I had not been many days shut up with them before I began to be ashamed of +my first judgment, when I had drawn away from them at the Ferry pier, as though +they had been unclean beasts. No class of man is altogether bad, but each has +its own faults and virtues; and these shipmates of mine were no exception to +the rule. Rough they were, sure enough; and bad, I suppose; but they had many +virtues. They were kind when it occurred to them, simple even beyond the +simplicity of a country lad like me, and had some glimmerings of honesty. +</p> + +<p> +There was one man, of maybe forty, that would sit on my berthside for hours and +tell me of his wife and child. He was a fisher that had lost his boat, and thus +been driven to the deep-sea voyaging. Well, it is years ago now: but I have +never forgotten him. His wife (who was “young by him,” as he often told me) +waited in vain to see her man return; he would never again make the fire for +her in the morning, nor yet keep the bairn when she was sick. Indeed, many of +these poor fellows (as the event proved) were upon their last cruise; the deep +seas and cannibal fish received them; and it is a thankless business to speak +ill of the dead. +</p> + +<p> +Among other good deeds that they did, they returned my money, which had been +shared among them; and though it was about a third short, I was very glad to +get it, and hoped great good from it in the land I was going to. The ship was +bound for the Carolinas; and you must not suppose that I was going to that +place merely as an exile. The trade was even then much depressed; since that, +and with the rebellion of the colonies and the formation of the United States, +it has, of course, come to an end; but in those days of my youth, white men +were still sold into slavery on the plantations, and that was the destiny to +which my wicked uncle had condemned me. +</p> + +<p> +The cabin-boy Ransome (from whom I had first heard of these atrocities) came in +at times from the round-house, where he berthed and served, now nursing a +bruised limb in silent agony, now raving against the cruelty of Mr. Shuan. It +made my heart bleed; but the men had a great respect for the chief mate, who +was, as they said, “the only seaman of the whole jing-bang, and none such a bad +man when he was sober.” Indeed, I found there was a strange peculiarity about +our two mates: that Mr. Riach was sullen, unkind, and harsh when he was sober, +and Mr. Shuan would not hurt a fly except when he was drinking. I asked about +the captain; but I was told drink made no difference upon that man of iron. +</p> + +<p> +I did my best in the small time allowed me to make some thing like a man, or +rather I should say something like a boy, of the poor creature, Ransome. But +his mind was scarce truly human. He could remember nothing of the time before +he came to sea; only that his father had made clocks, and had a starling in the +parlour, which could whistle “The North Countrie;” all else had been blotted +out in these years of hardship and cruelties. He had a strange notion of the +dry land, picked up from sailor’s stories: that it was a place where lads were +put to some kind of slavery called a trade, and where apprentices were +continually lashed and clapped into foul prisons. In a town, he thought every +second person a decoy, and every third house a place in which seamen would be +drugged and murdered. To be sure, I would tell him how kindly I had myself been +used upon that dry land he was so much afraid of, and how well fed and +carefully taught both by my friends and my parents: and if he had been recently +hurt, he would weep bitterly and swear to run away; but if he was in his usual +crackbrain humour, or (still more) if he had had a glass of spirits in the +roundhouse, he would deride the notion. +</p> + +<p> +It was Mr. Riach (Heaven forgive him!) who gave the boy drink; and it was, +doubtless, kindly meant; but besides that it was ruin to his health, it was the +pitifullest thing in life to see this unhappy, unfriended creature staggering, +and dancing, and talking he knew not what. Some of the men laughed, but not +all; others would grow as black as thunder (thinking, perhaps, of their own +childhood or their own children) and bid him stop that nonsense, and think what +he was doing. As for me, I felt ashamed to look at him, and the poor child +still comes about me in my dreams. +</p> + +<p> +All this time, you should know, the <i>Covenant</i> was meeting continual +head-winds and tumbling up and down against head-seas, so that the scuttle was +almost constantly shut, and the forecastle lighted only by a swinging lantern +on a beam. There was constant labour for all hands; the sails had to be made +and shortened every hour; the strain told on the men’s temper; there was a +growl of quarrelling all day long from berth to berth; and as I was never +allowed to set my foot on deck, you can picture to yourselves how weary of my +life I grew to be, and how impatient for a change. +</p> + +<p> +And a change I was to get, as you shall hear; but I must first tell of a +conversation I had with Mr. Riach, which put a little heart in me to bear my +troubles. Getting him in a favourable stage of drink (for indeed he never +looked near me when he was sober), I pledged him to secrecy, and told him my +whole story. +</p> + +<p> +He declared it was like a ballad; that he would do his best to help me; that I +should have paper, pen, and ink, and write one line to Mr. Campbell and another +to Mr. Rankeillor; and that if I had told the truth, ten to one he would be +able (with their help) to pull me through and set me in my rights. +</p> + +<p> +“And in the meantime,” says he, “keep your heart up. You’re not the only one, +I’ll tell you that. There’s many a man hoeing tobacco over-seas that should be +mounting his horse at his own door at home; many and many! And life is all a +variorum, at the best. Look at me: I’m a laird’s son and more than half a +doctor, and here I am, man-Jack to Hoseason!” +</p> + +<p> +I thought it would be civil to ask him for his story. +</p> + +<p> +He whistled loud. +</p> + +<p> +“Never had one,” said he. “I like fun, that’s all.” And he skipped out of the +forecastle. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0086.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter VIII" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0008"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br/> +THE ROUND-HOUSE</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9086.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="O" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +ne night, about eleven o’clock, a man of Mr. Riach’s watch (which was on deck) +came below for his jacket; and instantly there began to go a whisper about the +forecastle that “Shuan had done for him at last.” There was no need of a name; +we all knew who was meant; but we had scarce time to get the idea rightly in +our heads, far less to speak of it, when the scuttle was again flung open, and +Captain Hoseason came down the ladder. He looked sharply round the bunks in the +tossing light of the lantern; and then, walking straight up to me, he addressed +me, to my surprise, in tones of kindness. +</p> + +<p> +“My man,” said he, “we want ye to serve in the round-house. You and Ransome are +to change berths. Run away aft with ye.” +</p> + +<p> +Even as he spoke, two seamen appeared in the scuttle, carrying Ransome in their +arms; and the ship at that moment giving a great sheer into the sea, and the +lantern swinging, the light fell direct on the boy’s face. It was as white as +wax, and had a look upon it like a dreadful smile. The blood in me ran cold, +and I drew in my breath as if I had been struck. +</p> + +<p> +“Run away aft; run away aft with ye!” cried Hoseason. +</p> + +<p> +And at that I brushed by the sailors and the boy (who neither spoke nor moved), +and ran up the ladder on deck. +</p> + +<p> +The brig was sheering swiftly and giddily through a long, cresting swell. She +was on the starboard tack, and on the left hand, under the arched foot of the +foresail, I could see the sunset still quite bright. This, at such an hour of +the night, surprised me greatly; but I was too ignorant to draw the true +conclusion—that we were going north-about round Scotland, and were now on the +high sea between the Orkney and Shetland Islands, having avoided the dangerous +currents of the Pentland Firth. For my part, who had been so long shut in the +dark and knew nothing of head-winds, I thought we might be half-way or more +across the Atlantic. And indeed (beyond that I wondered a little at the +lateness of the sunset light) I gave no heed to it, and pushed on across the +decks, running between the seas, catching at ropes, and only saved from going +overboard by one of the hands on deck, who had been always kind to me. +</p> + +<p> +The round-house, for which I was bound, and where I was now to sleep and serve, +stood some six feet above the decks, and considering the size of the brig, was +of good dimensions. Inside were a fixed table and bench, and two berths, one +for the captain and the other for the two mates, turn and turn about. It was +all fitted with lockers from top to bottom, so as to stow away the officers’ +belongings and a part of the ship’s stores; there was a second store-room +underneath, which you entered by a hatchway in the middle of the deck; indeed, +all the best of the meat and drink and the whole of the powder were collected +in this place; and all the firearms, except the two pieces of brass ordnance, +were set in a rack in the aftermost wall of the round-house. The most of the +cutlasses were in another place. +</p> + +<p> +A small window with a shutter on each side, and a skylight in the roof, gave it +light by day; and after dark there was a lamp always burning. It was burning +when I entered, not brightly, but enough to show Mr. Shuan sitting at the +table, with the brandy bottle and a tin pannikin in front of him. He was a tall +man, strongly made and very black; and he stared before him on the table like +one stupid. +</p> + +<p> +He took no notice of my coming in; nor did he move when the captain followed +and leant on the berth beside me, looking darkly at the mate. I stood in great +fear of Hoseason, and had my reasons for it; but something told me I need not +be afraid of him just then; and I whispered in his ear: “How is he?” He shook +his head like one that does not know and does not wish to think, and his face +was very stern. +</p> + +<p> +Presently Mr. Riach came in. He gave the captain a glance that meant the boy +was dead as plain as speaking, and took his place like the rest of us; so that +we all three stood without a word, staring down at Mr. Shuan, and Mr. Shuan (on +his side) sat without a word, looking hard upon the table. +</p> + +<p> +All of a sudden he put out his hand to take the bottle; and at that Mr. Riach +started forward and caught it away from him, rather by surprise than violence, +crying out, with an oath, that there had been too much of this work altogether, +and that a judgment would fall upon the ship. And as he spoke (the weather +sliding-doors standing open) he tossed the bottle into the sea. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Shuan was on his feet in a trice; he still looked dazed, but he meant +murder, ay, and would have done it, for the second time that night, had not the +captain stepped in between him and his victim. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down!” roars the captain. “Ye sot and swine, do ye know what ye’ve done? +Ye’ve murdered the boy!” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0089.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Sit down! Roars the +Captain " /> +</div> + +<p> +Mr. Shuan seemed to understand; for he sat down again, and put up his hand to +his brow. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he said, “he brought me a dirty pannikin!” +</p> + +<p> +At that word, the captain and I and Mr. Riach all looked at each other for a +second with a kind of frightened look; and then Hoseason walked up to his chief +officer, took him by the shoulder, led him across to his bunk, and bade him lie +down and go to sleep, as you might speak to a bad child. The murderer cried a +little, but he took off his sea-boots and obeyed. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” cried Mr. Riach, with a dreadful voice, “ye should have interfered long +syne. It’s too late now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Riach,” said the captain, “this night’s work must never be kennt in +Dysart. The boy went overboard, sir; that’s what the story is; and I would give +five pounds out of my pocket it was true!” He turned to the table. “What made +ye throw the good bottle away?” he added. “There was nae sense in that, sir. +Here, David, draw me another. They’re in the bottom locker;” and he tossed me a +key. “Ye’ll need a glass yourself, sir,” he added to Riach. “Yon was an ugly +thing to see.” +</p> + +<p> +So the pair sat down and hob-a-nobbed; and while they did so, the murderer, who +had been lying and whimpering in his berth, raised himself upon his elbow and +looked at them and at me. +</p> + +<p> +That was the first night of my new duties; and in the course of the next day I +had got well into the run of them. I had to serve at the meals, which the +captain took at regular hours, sitting down with the officer who was off duty; +all the day through I would be running with a dram to one or other of my three +masters; and at night I slept on a blanket thrown on the deck boards at the +aftermost end of the round-house, and right in the draught of the two doors. It +was a hard and a cold bed; nor was I suffered to sleep without interruption; +for some one would be always coming in from deck to get a dram, and when a +fresh watch was to be set, two and sometimes all three would sit down and brew +a bowl together. How they kept their health, I know not, any more than how I +kept my own. +</p> + +<p> +And yet in other ways it was an easy service. There was no cloth to lay; the +meals were either of oatmeal porridge or salt junk, except twice a week, when +there was duff: and though I was clumsy enough and (not being firm on my +sealegs) sometimes fell with what I was bringing them, both Mr. Riach and the +captain were singularly patient. I could not but fancy they were making up +lee-way with their consciences, and that they would scarce have been so good +with me if they had not been worse with Ransome. +</p> + +<p> +As for Mr. Shuan, the drink or his crime, or the two together, had certainly +troubled his mind. I cannot say I ever saw him in his proper wits. He never +grew used to my being there, stared at me continually (sometimes, I could have +thought, with terror), and more than once drew back from my hand when I was +serving him. I was pretty sure from the first that he had no clear mind of what +he had done, and on my second day in the round-house I had the proof of it. We +were alone, and he had been staring at me a long time, when all at once, up he +got, as pale as death, and came close up to me, to my great terror. But I had +no cause to be afraid of him. +</p> + +<p> +“You were not here before?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir,” said I.” +</p> + +<p> +“There was another boy?” he asked again; and when I had answered him, “Ah!” +says he, “I thought that,” and went and sat down, without another word, except +to call for brandy. +</p> + +<p> +You may think it strange, but for all the horror I had, I was still sorry for +him. He was a married man, with a wife in Leith; but whether or no he had a +family, I have now forgotten; I hope not. +</p> + +<p> +Altogether it was no very hard life for the time it lasted, which (as you are +to hear) was not long. I was as well fed as the best of them; even their +pickles, which were the great dainty, I was allowed my share of; and had I +liked I might have been drunk from morning to night, like Mr. Shuan. I had +company, too, and good company of its sort. Mr. Riach, who had been to the +college, spoke to me like a friend when he was not sulking, and told me many +curious things, and some that were informing; and even the captain, though he +kept me at the stick’s end the most part of the time, would sometimes unbuckle +a bit, and tell me of the fine countries he had visited. +</p> + +<p> +The shadow of poor Ransome, to be sure, lay on all four of us, and on me and +Mr. Shuan in particular, most heavily. And then I had another trouble of my +own. Here I was, doing dirty work for three men that I looked down upon, and +one of whom, at least, should have hung upon a gallows; that was for the +present; and as for the future, I could only see myself slaving alongside of +negroes in the tobacco fields. Mr. Riach, perhaps from caution, would never +suffer me to say another word about my story; the captain, whom I tried to +approach, rebuffed me like a dog and would not hear a word; and as the days +came and went, my heart sank lower and lower, till I was even glad of the work +which kept me from thinking. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0094.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter IX" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0009"></a>CHAPTER IX<br/> +THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9094.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="M" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +ore than a week went by, in which the ill-luck that had hitherto pursued the +<i>Covenant</i> upon this voyage grew yet more strongly marked. Some days she +made a little way; others, she was driven actually back. At last we were beaten +so far to the south that we tossed and tacked to and fro the whole of the ninth +day, within sight of Cape Wrath and the wild, rocky coast on either hand of it. +There followed on that a council of the officers, and some decision which I did +not rightly understand, seeing only the result: that we had made a fair wind of +a foul one and were running south. +</p> + +<p> +The tenth afternoon there was a falling swell and a thick, wet, white fog that +hid one end of the brig from the other. All afternoon, when I went on deck, I +saw men and officers listening hard over the bulwarks—“for breakers,” they +said; and though I did not so much as understand the word, I felt danger in the +air, and was excited. +</p> + +<p> +Maybe about ten at night, I was serving Mr. Riach and the captain at their +supper, when the ship struck something with a great sound, and we heard voices +singing out. My two masters leaped to their feet. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s struck!” said Mr. Riach. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir,” said the captain. “We’ve only run a boat down.” +</p> + +<p> +And they hurried out. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0097.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="The stern had been thrown +into the air, and the man had leaped up" /> +</div> + +<p> +The captain was in the right of it. We had run down a boat in the fog, and she +had parted in the midst and gone to the bottom with all her crew but one. This +man (as I heard afterwards) had been sitting in the stern as a passenger, while +the rest were on the benches rowing. At the moment of the blow, the stern had +been thrown into the air, and the man (having his hands free, and for all he +was encumbered with a frieze overcoat that came below his knees) had leaped up +and caught hold of the brig’s bowsprit. It showed he had luck and much agility +and unusual strength, that he should have thus saved himself from such a pass. +And yet, when the captain brought him into the round-house, and I set eyes on +him for the first time, he looked as cool as I did. +</p> + +<p> +He was smallish in stature, but well set and as nimble as a goat; his face was +of a good open expression, but sunburnt very dark, and heavily freckled and +pitted with the small-pox; his eyes were unusually light and had a kind of +dancing madness in them, that was both engaging and alarming; and when he took +off his great-coat, he laid a pair of fine silver-mounted pistols on the table, +and I saw that he was belted with a great sword. His manners, besides, were +elegant, and he pledged the captain handsomely. Altogether I thought of him, at +the first sight, that here was a man I would rather call my friend than my +enemy. +</p> + +<p> +The captain, too, was taking his observations, but rather of the man’s clothes +than his person. And to be sure, as soon as he had taken off the great-coat, he +showed forth mighty fine for the round-house of a merchant brig: having a hat +with feathers, a red waistcoat, breeches of black plush, and a blue coat with +silver buttons and handsome silver lace; costly clothes, though somewhat +spoiled with the fog and being slept in. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m vexed, sir, about the boat,” says the captain. +</p> + +<p> +“There are some pretty men gone to the bottom,” said the stranger, “that I +would rather see on the dry land again than half a score of boats.” +</p> + +<p> +“Friends of yours?” said Hoseason. +</p> + +<p> +“You have none such friends in your country,” was the reply. “They would have +died for me like dogs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” said the captain, still watching him, “there are more men in the +world than boats to put them in.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that’s true, too,” cried the other, “and ye seem to be a gentleman of +great penetration.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have been in France, sir,” says the captain, so that it was plain he meant +more by the words than showed upon the face of them. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” says the other, “and so has many a pretty man, for the matter of +that.” +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt, sir,” says the captain, “and fine coats.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oho!” says the stranger, “is that how the wind sets?” And he laid his hand +quickly on his pistols. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be hasty,” said the captain. “Don’t do a mischief before ye see the need +of it. Ye’ve a French soldier’s coat upon your back and a Scotch tongue in your +head, to be sure; but so has many an honest fellow in these days, and I dare +say none the worse of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“So?” said the gentleman in the fine coat: “are ye of the honest party?” +(meaning, Was he a Jacobite? for each side, in these sort of civil broils, +takes the name of honesty for its own). +</p> + +<p> +“Why, sir,” replied the captain, “I am a true-blue Protestant, and I thank God +for it.” (It was the first word of any religion I had ever heard from him, but +I learnt afterwards he was a great church-goer while on shore.) “But, for all +that,” says he, “I can be sorry to see another man with his back to the wall.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can ye so, indeed?” asked the Jacobite. “Well, sir, to be quite plain with ye, +I am one of those honest gentlemen that were in trouble about the years +forty-five and six; and (to be still quite plain with ye) if I got into the +hands of any of the red-coated gentry, it’s like it would go hard with me. Now, +sir, I was for France; and there was a French ship cruising here to pick me up; +but she gave us the go-by in the fog—as I wish from the heart that ye had done +yoursel’! And the best that I can say is this: If ye can set me ashore where I +was going, I have that upon me will reward you highly for your trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“In France?” says the captain. “No, sir; that I cannot do. But where ye come +from—we might talk of that.” +</p> + +<p> +And then, unhappily, he observed me standing in my corner, and packed me off to +the galley to get supper for the gentleman. I lost no time, I promise you; and +when I came back into the round-house, I found the gentleman had taken a +money-belt from about his waist, and poured out a guinea or two upon the table. +The captain was looking at the guineas, and then at the belt, and then at the +gentleman’s face; and I thought he seemed excited. +</p> + +<p> +“Half of it,” he cried, “and I’m your man!” +</p> + +<p> +The other swept back the guineas into the belt, and put it on again under his +waistcoat. “I have told ye sir,” said he, “that not one doit of it belongs to +me. It belongs to my chieftain,” and here he touched his hat, “and while I +would be but a silly messenger to grudge some of it that the rest might come +safe, I should show myself a hound indeed if I bought my own carcase any too +dear. Thirty guineas on the sea-side, or sixty if ye set me on the Linnhe Loch. +Take it, if ye will; if not, ye can do your worst.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said Hoseason. “And if I give ye over to the soldiers?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ye would make a fool’s bargain,” said the other. “My chief, let me tell you, +sir, is forfeited, like every honest man in Scotland. His estate is in the +hands of the man they call King George; and it is his officers that collect the +rents, or try to collect them. But for the honour of Scotland, the poor tenant +bodies take a thought upon their chief lying in exile; and this money is a part +of that very rent for which King George is looking. Now, sir, ye seem to me to +be a man that understands things: bring this money within the reach of +Government, and how much of it’ll come to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Little enough, to be sure,” said Hoseason; and then, “if they knew,” he added, +drily. “But I think, if I was to try, that I could hold my tongue about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, but I’ll begowk<a href="#fn12" name="fnref12"><sup>[12]</sup></a> ye +there!” cried the gentleman. “Play me false, and I’ll play you cunning. If a +hand is laid upon me, they shall ken what money it is.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn12"></a> <a href="#fnref12">[12]</a> +Befool. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” returned the captain, “what must be must. Sixty guineas, and done. +Here’s my hand upon it.” +</p> + +<p> +“And here’s mine,” said the other. +</p> + +<p> +And thereupon the captain went out (rather hurriedly, I thought), and left me +alone in the round-house with the stranger. +</p> + +<p> +At that period (so soon after the forty-five) there were many exiled gentlemen +coming back at the peril of their lives, either to see their friends or to +collect a little money; and as for the Highland chiefs that had been forfeited, +it was a common matter of talk how their tenants would stint themselves to send +them money, and their clansmen outface the soldiery to get it in, and run the +gauntlet of our great navy to carry it across. All this I had, of course, heard +tell of; and now I had a man under my eyes whose life was forfeit on all these +counts and upon one more, for he was not only a rebel and a smuggler of rents, +but had taken service with King Louis of France. And as if all this were not +enough, he had a belt full of golden guineas round his loins. Whatever my +opinions, I could not look on such a man without a lively interest. +</p> + +<p> +“And so you’re a Jacobite?” said I, as I set meat before him. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said he, beginning to eat. “And you, by your long face, should be a +Whig?”<a href="#fn13" name="fnref13"><sup>[13]</sup></a> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn13"></a> <a href="#fnref13">[13]</a> +Whig or Whigamore was the cant name for those who were loyal to King George. +</p> + +<p> +“Betwixt and between,” said I, not to annoy him; for indeed I was as good a +Whig as Mr. Campbell could make me. +</p> + +<p> +“And that’s naething,” said he. “But I’m saying, Mr. Betwixt-and-Between,” he +added, “this bottle of yours is dry; and it’s hard if I’m to pay sixty guineas +and be grudged a dram upon the back of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go and ask for the key,” said I, and stepped on deck. +</p> + +<p> +The fog was as close as ever, but the swell almost down. They had laid the brig +to, not knowing precisely where they were, and the wind (what little there was +of it) not serving well for their true course. Some of the hands were still +hearkening for breakers; but the captain and the two officers were in the waist +with their heads together. It struck me (I don’t know why) that they were after +no good; and the first word I heard, as I drew softly near, more than confirmed +me. +</p> + +<p> +It was Mr. Riach, crying out as if upon a sudden thought: “Couldn’t we wile him +out of the round-house?” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s better where he is,” returned Hoseason; “he hasn’t room to use his +sword.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that’s true,” said Riach; “but he’s hard to come at.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hut!” said Hoseason. “We can get the man in talk, one upon each side, and pin +him by the two arms; or if that’ll not hold, sir, we can make a run by both the +doors and get him under hand before he has the time to draw.” +</p> + +<p> +At this hearing, I was seized with both fear and anger at these treacherous, +greedy, bloody men that I sailed with. My first mind was to run away; my second +was bolder. +</p> + +<p> +“Captain,” said I, “the gentleman is seeking a dram, and the bottle’s out. Will +you give me the key?” +</p> + +<p> +They all started and turned about. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, here’s our chance to get the firearms!” +</p> + +<p> +Riach cried; and then to me: “Hark ye, David,” he said, “do ye ken where the +pistols are?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, ay,” put in Hoseason. “David kens; David’s a good lad. Ye see, David my +man, yon wild Hielandman is a danger to the ship, besides being a rank foe to +King George, God bless him!” +</p> + +<p> +I had never been so be-Davided since I came on board: but I said Yes, as if all +I heard were quite natural. +</p> + +<p> +“The trouble is,” resumed the captain, “that all our firelocks, great and +little, are in the round-house under this man’s nose; likewise the powder. Now, +if I, or one of the officers, was to go in and take them, he would fall to +thinking. But a lad like you, David, might snap up a horn and a pistol or two +without remark. And if ye can do it cleverly, I’ll bear it in mind when it’ll +be good for you to have friends; and that’s when we come to Carolina.” +</p> + +<p> +Here Mr. Riach whispered him a little. +</p> + +<p> +“Very right, sir,” said the captain; and then to myself: “And see here, David, +yon man has a beltful of gold, and I give you my word that you shall have your +fingers in it.” +</p> + +<p> +I told him I would do as he wished, though indeed I had scarce breath to speak +with; and upon that he gave me the key of the spirit locker, and I began to go +slowly back to the round-house. What was I to do? They were dogs and thieves; +they had stolen me from my own country; they had killed poor Ransome; and was I +to hold the candle to another murder? But then, upon the other hand, there was +the fear of death very plain before me; for what could a boy and a man, if they +were as brave as lions, against a whole ship’s company? +</p> + +<p> +I was still arguing it back and forth, and getting no great clearness, when I +came into the round-house and saw the Jacobite eating his supper under the +lamp; and at that my mind was made up all in a moment. I have no credit by it; +it was by no choice of mine, but as if by compulsion, that I walked right up to +the table and put my hand on his shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +“Do ye want to be killed?” said I. He sprang to his feet, and looked a question +at me as clear as if he had spoken. +</p> + +<p> +“O!” cried I, “they’re all murderers here; it’s a ship full of them! They’ve +murdered a boy already. Now it’s you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, ay,” said he; “but they have n’t got me yet.” And then looking at me +curiously, “Will ye stand with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“That will I!” said I. “I am no thief, nor yet murderer. I’ll stand by you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, then,” said he, “what’s your name?” +</p> + +<p> +“David Balfour,” said I; and then, thinking that a man with so fine a coat must +like fine people, I added for the first time, “of Shaws.” +</p> + +<p> +It never occurred to him to doubt me, for a Highlander is used to see great +gentlefolk in great poverty; but as he had no estate of his own, my words +nettled a very childish vanity he had. +</p> + +<p> +“My name is Stewart,” he said, drawing himself up. “Alan Breck, they call me. A +king’s name is good enough for me, though I bear it plain and have the name of +no farm-midden to clap to the hind-end of it.” +</p> + +<p> +And having administered this rebuke, as though it were something of a chief +importance, he turned to examine our defences. +</p> + +<p> +The round-house was built very strong, to support the breaching of the seas. Of +its five apertures, only the skylight and the two doors were large enough for +the passage of a man. The doors, besides, could be drawn close: they were of +stout oak, and ran in grooves, and were fitted with hooks to keep them either +shut or open, as the need arose. The one that was already shut I secured in +this fashion; but when I was proceeding to slide to the other, Alan stopped me. +</p> + +<p> +“David,” said he—“for I cannae bring to mind the name of your landed estate, +and so will make so bold as to call you David—that door, being open, is the +best part of my defences.” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be yet better shut,” says I. +</p> + +<p> +“Not so, David,” says he. “Ye see, I have but one face; but so long as that +door is open and my face to it, the best part of my enemies will be in front of +me, where I would aye wish to find them.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he gave me from the rack a cutlass (of which there were a few besides the +firearms), choosing it with great care, shaking his head and saying he had +never in all his life seen poorer weapons; and next he set me down to the table +with a powder-horn, a bag of bullets and all the pistols, which he bade me +charge. +</p> + +<p> +“And that will be better work, let me tell you,” said he, “for a gentleman of +decent birth, than scraping plates and raxing<a href="#fn14" +name="fnref14"><sup>[14]</sup></a> drams to a wheen tarry sailors.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn14"></a> <a href="#fnref14">[14]</a> +Reaching. +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon he stood up in the midst with his face to the door, and drawing his +great sword, made trial of the room he had to wield it in. +</p> + +<p> +“I must stick to the point,” he said, shaking his head; “and that’s a pity, +too. It doesn’t set my genius, which is all for the upper guard. And, now,” +said he, “do you keep on charging the pistols, and give heed to me.” +</p> + +<p> +I told him I would listen closely. My chest was tight, my mouth dry, the light +dark to my eyes; the thought of the numbers that were soon to leap in upon us +kept my heart in a flutter: and the sea, which I heard washing round the brig, +and where I thought my dead body would be cast ere morning, ran in my mind +strangely. +</p> + +<p> +“First of all,” said he, “how many are against us?” +</p> + +<p> +I reckoned them up; and such was the hurry of my mind, I had to cast the +numbers twice. “Fifteen,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +Alan whistled. “Well,” said he, “that can’t be cured. And now follow me. It is +my part to keep this door, where I look for the main battle. In that, ye have +no hand. And mind and dinnae fire to this side unless they get me down; for I +would rather have ten foes in front of me than one friend like you cracking +pistols at my back.” +</p> + +<p> +I told him, indeed I was no great shot. +</p> + +<p> +“And that’s very bravely said,” he cried, in a great admiration of my candour. +“There’s many a pretty gentleman that wouldnae dare to say it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But then, sir,” said I, “there is the door behind you, which they may perhaps +break in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said he, “and that is a part of your work. No sooner the pistols charged, +than ye must climb up into yon bed where ye’re handy at the window; and if they +lift hand against the door, ye’re to shoot. But that’s not all. Let’s make a +bit of a soldier of ye, David. What else have ye to guard?” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s the skylight,” said I. “But indeed, Mr. Stewart, I would need to have +eyes upon both sides to keep the two of them; for when my face is at the one, +my back is to the other.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that’s very true,” said Alan. “But have ye no ears to your head?” +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure!” cried I. “I must hear the bursting of the glass!” +</p> + +<p> +“Ye have some rudiments of sense,” said Alan, grimly. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0106.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter X" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0010"></a>CHAPTER X<br/> +THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9106.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="B" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +ut now our time of truce was come to an end. Those on deck had waited for my +coming till they grew impatient; and scarce had Alan spoken, when the captain +showed face in the open door. +</p> + +<p> +“Stand!” cried Alan, and pointed his sword at him. The captain stood, indeed; +but he neither winced nor drew back a foot. +</p> + +<p> +“A naked sword?” says he. “This is a strange return for hospitality.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do ye see me?” said Alan. “I am come of kings; I bear a king’s name. My badge +is the oak. Do ye see my sword? It has slashed the heads off mair Whigamores +than you have toes upon your feet. Call up your vermin to your back, sir, and +fall on! The sooner the clash begins, the sooner ye’ll taste this steel +throughout your vitals.” +</p> + +<p> +The captain said nothing to Alan, but he looked over at me with an ugly look. +“David,” said he, “I’ll mind this;” and the sound of his voice went through me +with a jar. +</p> + +<p> +Next moment he was gone. +</p> + +<p> +“And now,” said Alan, “let your hand keep your head, for the grip is coming.” +</p> + +<p> +Alan drew a dirk, which he held in his left hand in case they should run in +under his sword. I, on my part, clambered up into the berth with an armful of +pistols and something of a heavy heart, and set open the window where I was to +watch. It was a small part of the deck that I could overlook, but enough for +our purpose. The sea had gone down, and the wind was steady and kept the sails +quiet; so that there was a great stillness in the ship, in which I made sure I +heard the sound of muttering voices. A little after, and there came a clash of +steel upon the deck, by which I knew they were dealing out the cutlasses and +one had been let fall; and after that, silence again. +</p> + +<p> +I do not know if I was what you call afraid; but my heart beat like a bird’s, +both quick and little; and there was a dimness came before my eyes which I +continually rubbed away, and which continually returned. As for hope, I had +none; but only a darkness of despair and a sort of anger against all the world +that made me long to sell my life as dear as I was able. I tried to pray, I +remember, but that same hurry of my mind, like a man running, would not suffer +me to think upon the words; and my chief wish was to have the thing begin and +be done with it. +</p> + +<p> +It came all of a sudden when it did, with a rush of feet and a roar, and then a +shout from Alan, and a sound of blows and some one crying out as if hurt. I +looked back over my shoulder, and saw Mr. Shuan in the doorway, crossing blades +with Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s him that killed the boy!” I cried. +</p> + +<p> +“Look to your window!” said Alan; and as I turned back to my place, I saw him +pass his sword through the mate’s body. +</p> + +<p> +It was none too soon for me to look to my own part; for my head was scarce back +at the window, before five men, carrying a spare yard for a battering-ram, ran +past me and took post to drive the door in. I had never fired with a pistol in +my life, and not often with a gun; far less against a fellow-creature. But it +was now or never; and just as they swang the yard, I cried out: “Take that!” +and shot into their midst. +</p> + +<p> +I must have hit one of them, for he sang out and gave back a step, and the rest +stopped as if a little disconcerted. Before they had time to recover, I sent +another ball over their heads; and at my third shot (which went as wide as the +second) the whole party threw down the yard and ran for it. +</p> + +<p> +Then I looked round again into the deck-house. The whole place was full of the +smoke of my own firing, just as my ears seemed to be burst with the noise of +the shots. But there was Alan, standing as before; only now his sword was +running blood to the hilt, and himself so swelled with triumph and fallen into +so fine an attitude, that he looked to be invincible. Right before him on the +floor was Mr. Shuan, on his hands and knees; the blood was pouring from his +mouth, and he was sinking slowly lower, with a terrible, white face; and just +as I looked, some of those from behind caught hold of him by the heels and +dragged him bodily out of the round-house. I believe he died as they were doing +it. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s one of your Whigs for ye!” cried Alan; and then turning to me, he +asked if I had done much execution. +</p> + +<p> +I told him I had winged one, and thought it was the captain. +</p> + +<p> +“And I’ve settled two,” says he. “No, there’s not enough blood let; they’ll be +back again. To your watch, David. This was but a dram before meat.” +</p> + +<p> +I settled back to my place, re-charging the three pistols I had fired, and +keeping watch with both eye and ear. +</p> + +<p> +Our enemies were disputing not far off upon the deck, and that so loudly that I +could hear a word or two above the washing of the seas. +</p> + +<p> +“It was Shuan bauchled<a href="#fn15" name="fnref15"><sup>[15]</sup></a> it,” I +heard one say. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn15"></a> <a href="#fnref15">[15]</a> +Bungled. +</p> + +<p> +And another answered him with a “Wheesht, man! He’s paid the piper.” +</p> + +<p> +After that the voices fell again into the same muttering as before. Only now, +one person spoke most of the time, as though laying down a plan, and first one +and then another answered him briefly, like men taking orders. By this, I made +sure they were coming on again, and told Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s what we have to pray for,” said he. “Unless we can give them a good +distaste of us, and done with it, there’ll be nae sleep for either you or me. +But this time, mind, they’ll be in earnest.” +</p> + +<p> +By this, my pistols were ready, and there was nothing to do but listen and +wait. While the brush lasted, I had not the time to think if I was frighted; +but now, when all was still again, my mind ran upon nothing else. The thought +of the sharp swords and the cold steel was strong in me; and presently, when I +began to hear stealthy steps and a brushing of men’s clothes against the +round-house wall, and knew they were taking their places in the dark, I could +have found it in my mind to cry out aloud. +</p> + +<p> +All this was upon Alan’s side; and I had begun to think my share of the fight +was at an end, when I heard some one drop softly on the roof above me. +</p> + +<p> +Then there came a single call on the sea-pipe, and that was the signal. A knot +of them made one rush of it, cutlass in hand, against the door; and at the same +moment, the glass of the skylight was dashed in a thousand pieces, and a man +leaped through and landed on the floor. Before he got his feet, I had clapped a +pistol to his back, and might have shot him, too; only at the touch of him (and +him alive) my whole flesh misgave me, and I could no more pull the trigger than +I could have flown. +</p> + +<p> +He had dropped his cutlass as he jumped, and when he felt the pistol, whipped +straight round and laid hold of me, roaring out an oath; and at that either my +courage came again, or I grew so much afraid as came to the same thing; for I +gave a shriek and shot him in the midst of the body. He gave the most horrible, +ugly groan and fell to the floor. The foot of a second fellow, whose legs were +dangling through the skylight, struck me at the same time upon the head; and at +that I snatched another pistol and shot this one through the thigh, so that he +slipped through and tumbled in a lump on his companion’s body. There was no +talk of missing, any more than there was time to aim; I clapped the muzzle to +the very place and fired. +</p> + +<p> +I might have stood and stared at them for long, but I heard Alan shout as if +for help, and that brought me to my senses. +</p> + +<p> +He had kept the door so long; but one of the seamen, while he was engaged with +others, had run in under his guard and caught him about the body. Alan was +dirking him with his left hand, but the fellow clung like a leech. Another had +broken in and had his cutlass raised. The door was thronged with their faces. I +thought we were lost, and catching up my cutlass, fell on them in flank. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0111.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Alan ran upon the others +like a bull, roaring as he went" /> +</div> + +<p> +But I had not time to be of help. The wrestler dropped at last; and Alan, +leaping back to get his distance, ran upon the others like a bull, roaring as +he went. They broke before him like water, turning, and running, and falling +one against another in their haste. The sword in his hands flashed like +quicksilver into the huddle of our fleeing enemies; and at every flash there +came the scream of a man hurt. I was still thinking we were lost, when lo! they +were all gone, and Alan was driving them along the deck as a sheep-dog chases +sheep. +</p> + +<p> +Yet he was no sooner out than he was back again, being as cautious as he was +brave; and meanwhile the seamen continued running and crying out as if he was +still behind them; and we heard them tumble one upon another into the +forecastle, and clap-to the hatch upon the top. +</p> + +<p> +The round-house was like a shambles; three were dead inside, another lay in his +death agony across the threshold; and there were Alan and I victorious and +unhurt. +</p> + +<p> +He came up to me with open arms. “Come to my arms!” he cried, and embraced and +kissed me hard upon both cheeks. “David,” said he, “I love you like a brother. +And O, man,” he cried in a kind of ecstasy, “am I no a bonny fighter?” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon he turned to the four enemies, passed his sword clean through each of +them, and tumbled them out of doors one after the other. As he did so, he kept +humming and singing and whistling to himself, like a man trying to recall an +air; only what <i>he</i> was trying was to make one. All the while, the flush +was in his face, and his eyes were as bright as a five-year-old child’s with a +new toy. And presently he sat down upon the table, sword in hand; the air that +he was making all the time began to run a little clearer, and then clearer +still; and then out he burst with a great voice into a Gaelic song. +</p> + +<p> +I have translated it here, not in verse (of which I have no skill) but at least +in the king’s English. +</p> + +<p> +He sang it often afterwards, and the thing became popular; so that I have heard +it and had it explained to me, many’s the time. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“This is the song of the sword of Alan;<br/> +The smith made it,<br/> +The fire set it;<br/> +Now it shines in the hand of Alan Breck.<br/> +<br/> +“Their eyes were many and bright,<br/> +Swift were they to behold,<br/> +Many the hands they guided:<br/> +The sword was alone.<br/> +<br/> +“The dun deer troop over the hill,<br/> +They are many, the hill is one;<br/> +The dun deer vanish,<br/> +The hill remains.<br/> +<br/> +“Come to me from the hills of heather,<br/> +Come from the isles of the sea.<br/> +O far-beholding eagles,<br/> +Here is your meat.” +</p> + +<p> +Now this song which he made (both words and music) in the hour of our victory, +is something less than just to me, who stood beside him in the tussle. Mr. +Shuan and five more were either killed outright or thoroughly disabled; but of +these, two fell by my hand, the two that came by the skylight. Four more were +hurt, and of that number, one (and he not the least important) got his hurt +from me. So that, altogether, I did my fair share both of the killing and the +wounding, and might have claimed a place in Alan’s verses. But poets have to +think upon their rhymes; and in good prose talk, Alan always did me more than +justice. +</p> + +<p> +In the meanwhile, I was innocent of any wrong being done me. For not only I +knew no word of the Gaelic; but what with the long suspense of the waiting, and +the scurry and strain of our two spirts of fighting, and more than all, the +horror I had of some of my own share in it, the thing was no sooner over than I +was glad to stagger to a seat. There was that tightness on my chest that I +could hardly breathe; the thought of the two men I had shot sat upon me like a +nightmare; and all upon a sudden, and before I had a guess of what was coming, +I began to sob and cry like any child. +</p> + +<p> +Alan clapped my shoulder, and said I was a brave lad and wanted nothing but a +sleep. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll take the first watch,” said he. “Ye’ve done well by me, David, first and +last; and I wouldn’t lose you for all Appin—no, nor for Breadalbane.” +</p> + +<p> +So I made up my bed on the floor; and he took the first spell, pistol in hand +and sword on knee, three hours by the captain’s watch upon the wall. Then he +roused me up, and I took my turn of three hours; before the end of which it was +broad day, and a very quiet morning, with a smooth, rolling sea that tossed the +ship and made the blood run to and fro on the round-house floor, and a heavy +rain that drummed upon the roof. All my watch there was nothing stirring; and +by the banging of the helm, I knew they had even no one at the tiller. Indeed +(as I learned afterwards) there were so many of them hurt or dead, and the rest +in so ill a temper, that Mr. Riach and the captain had to take turn and turn +like Alan and me, or the brig might have gone ashore and nobody the wiser. It +was a mercy the night had fallen so still, for the wind had gone down as soon +as the rain began. Even as it was, I judged by the wailing of a great number of +gulls that went crying and fishing round the ship, that she must have drifted +pretty near the coast or one of the islands of the Hebrides; and at last, +looking out of the door of the round-house, I saw the great stone hills of Skye +on the right hand, and, a little more astern, the strange isle of Rum. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0116.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XI" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0011"></a>CHAPTER XI<br/> +THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9116.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="A" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +lan and I sat down to breakfast about six of the clock. The floor was covered +with broken glass and in a horrid mess of blood, which took away my hunger. In +all other ways we were in a situation not only agreeable but merry; having +ousted the officers from their own cabin, and having at command all the drink +in the ship—both wine and spirits—and all the dainty part of what was eatable, +such as the pickles and the fine sort of bread. This, of itself, was enough to +set us in good humour, but the richest part of it was this, that the two +thirstiest men that ever came out of Scotland (Mr. Shuan being dead) were now +shut in the fore-part of the ship and condemned to what they hated most—cold +water. +</p> + +<p> +“And depend upon it,” Alan said, “we shall hear more of them ere long. Ye may +keep a man from the fighting, but never from his bottle.” +</p> + +<p> +We made good company for each other. Alan, indeed, expressed himself most +lovingly; and taking a knife from the table, cut me off one of the silver +buttons from his coat. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0117.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Alan cut me off one of the +silver buttons from his coat" /> +</div> + +<p> +“I had them,” says he, “from my father, Duncan Stewart; and now give ye one of +them to be a keepsake for last night’s work. And wherever ye go and show that +button, the friends of Alan Breck will come around you.” +</p> + +<p> +He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies; and indeed, +much as I admired his courage, I was always in danger of smiling at his vanity: +in danger, I say, for had I not kept my countenance, I would be afraid to think +what a quarrel might have followed. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as we were through with our meal he rummaged in the captain’s locker +till he found a clothes-brush; and then taking off his coat, began to visit his +suit and brush away the stains, with such care and labour as I supposed to have +been only usual with women. To be sure, he had no other; and, besides (as he +said), it belonged to a king and so behoved to be royally looked after. +</p> + +<p> +For all that, when I saw what care he took to pluck out the threads where the +button had been cut away, I put a higher value on his gift. +</p> + +<p> +He was still so engaged when we were hailed by Mr. Riach from the deck, asking +for a parley; and I, climbing through the skylight and sitting on the edge of +it, pistol in hand and with a bold front, though inwardly in fear of broken +glass, hailed him back again and bade him speak out. He came to the edge of the +round-house, and stood on a coil of rope, so that his chin was on a level with +the roof; and we looked at each other awhile in silence. Mr. Riach, as I do not +think he had been very forward in the battle, so he had got off with nothing +worse than a blow upon the cheek: but he looked out of heart and very weary, +having been all night afoot, either standing watch or doctoring the wounded. +</p> + +<p> +“This is a bad job,” said he at last, shaking his head. +</p> + +<p> +“It was none of our choosing,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“The captain,” says he, “would like to speak with your friend. They might speak +at the window.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how do we know what treachery he means?” cried I. +</p> + +<p> +“He means none, David,” returned Mr. Riach, “and if he did, I’ll tell ye the +honest truth, we couldnae get the men to follow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that so?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell ye more than that,” said he. “It’s not only the men; it’s me. I’m +frich’ened, Davie.” And he smiled across at me. “No,” he continued, “what we +want is to be shut of him.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon I consulted with Alan, and the parley was agreed to and parole given +upon either side; but this was not the whole of Mr. Riach’s business, and he +now begged me for a dram with such instancy and such reminders of his former +kindness, that at last I handed him a pannikin with about a gill of brandy. He +drank a part, and then carried the rest down upon the deck, to share it (I +suppose) with his superior. +</p> + +<p> +A little after, the captain came (as was agreed) to one of the windows, and +stood there in the rain, with his arm in a sling, and looking stern and pale, +and so old that my heart smote me for having fired upon him. +</p> + +<p> +Alan at once held a pistol in his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Put that thing up!” said the captain. “Have I not passed my word, sir? or do +ye seek to affront me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Captain,” says Alan, “I doubt your word is a breakable. Last night ye haggled +and argle-bargled like an apple-wife; and then passed me your word, and gave me +your hand to back it; and ye ken very well what was the upshot. Be damned to +your word!” says he. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, sir,” said the captain, “ye’ll get little good by swearing.” (And +truly that was a fault of which the captain was quite free.) “But we have other +things to speak,” he continued, bitterly. “Ye’ve made a sore hash of my brig; I +haven’t hands enough left to work her; and my first officer (whom I could ill +spare) has got your sword throughout his vitals, and passed without speech. +There is nothing left me, sir, but to put back into the port of Glasgow after +hands; and there (by your leave) ye will find them that are better able to talk +to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay?” said Alan; “and faith, I’ll have a talk with them mysel’! Unless there’s +naebody speaks English in that town, I have a bonny tale for them. Fifteen +tarry sailors upon the one side, and a man and a halfling boy upon the other! +O, man, it’s peetiful!” +</p> + +<p> +Hoseason flushed red. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” continued Alan, “that’ll no do. Ye’ll just have to set me ashore as we +agreed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said Hoseason, “but my first officer is dead—ye ken best how. There’s +none of the rest of us acquaint with this coast, sir; and it’s one very +dangerous to ships.” +</p> + +<p> +“I give ye your choice,” says Alan. “Set me on dry ground in Appin, or Ardgour, +or in Morven, or Arisaig, or Morar; or, in brief, where ye please, within +thirty miles of my own country; except in a country of the Campbells. That’s a +broad target. If ye miss that, ye must be as feckless at the sailoring as I +have found ye at the fighting. Why, my poor country people in their bit +cobles<a href="#fn16" name="fnref16"><sup>[16]</sup></a> pass from island to +island in all weathers, ay, and by night too, for the matter of that.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn16"></a> <a href="#fnref16">[16]</a> +Coble: a small boat used in fishing. +</p> + +<p> +“A coble’s not a ship, sir,” said the captain. “It has nae draught of water.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, to Glasgow if ye list!” says Alan. “We’ll have the laugh of ye at +the least.” +</p> + +<p> +“My mind runs little upon laughing,” said the captain. “But all this will cost +money, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” says Alan, “I am nae weathercock. Thirty guineas, if ye land me on +the sea-side; and sixty, if ye put me in the Linnhe Loch.” +</p> + +<p> +“But see, sir, where we lie, we are but a few hours’ sail from Ardnamurchan,” +said Hoseason. “Give me sixty, and I’ll set ye there.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I’m to wear my brogues and run jeopardy of the red-coats to please you?” +cries Alan. “No, sir; if ye want sixty guineas earn them, and set me in my own +country.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s to risk the brig, sir,” said the captain, “and your own lives along with +her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Take it or want it,” says Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“Could ye pilot us at all?” asked the captain, who was frowning to himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s doubtful,” said Alan. “I’m more of a fighting man (as ye have seen +for yoursel’) than a sailor-man. But I have been often enough picked up and set +down upon this coast, and should ken something of the lie of it.” +</p> + +<p> +The captain shook his head, still frowning. +</p> + +<p> +“If I had lost less money on this unchancy cruise,” says he, “I would see you +in a rope’s end before I risked my brig, sir. But be it as ye will. As soon as +I get a slant of wind (and there’s some coming, or I’m the more mistaken) I’ll +put it in hand. But there’s one thing more. We may meet in with a king’s ship +and she may lay us aboard, sir, with no blame of mine: they keep the cruisers +thick upon this coast, ye ken who for. Now, sir, if that was to befall, ye +might leave the money.” +</p> + +<p> +“Captain,” says Alan, “if ye see a pennant, it shall be your part to run away. +And now, as I hear you’re a little short of brandy in the fore-part, I’ll offer +ye a change: a bottle of brandy against two buckets of water.” +</p> + +<p> +That was the last clause of the treaty, and was duly executed on both sides; so +that Alan and I could at last wash out the round-house and be quit of the +memorials of those whom we had slain, and the captain and Mr. Riach could be +happy again in their own way, the name of which was drink. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0123.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XII" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0012"></a>CHAPTER XII<br/> +I HEAR OF THE “RED FOX”</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9123.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="B" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +efore we had done cleaning out the round-house, a breeze sprang up from a +little to the east of north. This blew off the rain and brought out the sun. +</p> + +<p> +And here I must explain; and the reader would do well to look at a map. On the +day when the fog fell and we ran down Alan’s boat, we had been running through +the Little Minch. At dawn after the battle, we lay becalmed to the east of the +Isle of Canna or between that and Isle Eriska in the chain of the Long Island. +Now to get from there to the Linnhe Loch, the straight course was through the +narrows of the Sound of Mull. But the captain had no chart; he was afraid to +trust his brig so deep among the islands; and the wind serving well, he +preferred to go by west of Tiree and come up under the southern coast of the +great Isle of Mull. +</p> + +<p> +All day the breeze held in the same point, and rather freshened than died down; +and towards afternoon, a swell began to set in from round the outer Hebrides. +Our course, to go round about the inner isles, was to the west of south, so +that at first we had this swell upon our beam, and were much rolled about. But +after nightfall, when we had turned the end of Tiree and began to head more to +the east, the sea came right astern. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0125.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Alan and I smoked a pipe +or two of the captain's fine tobacco" /> +</div> + +<p> +Meanwhile, the early part of the day, before the swell came up, was very +pleasant; sailing, as we were, in a bright sunshine and with many mountainous +islands upon different sides. Alan and I sat in the round-house with the doors +open on each side (the wind being straight astern), and smoked a pipe or two of +the captain’s fine tobacco. It was at this time we heard each other’s stories, +which was the more important to me, as I gained some knowledge of that wild +Highland country on which I was so soon to land. In those days, so close on the +back of the great rebellion, it was needful a man should know what he was doing +when he went upon the heather. +</p> + +<p> +It was I that showed the example, telling him all my misfortune; which he heard +with great good-nature. Only, when I came to mention that good friend of mine, +Mr. Campbell the minister, Alan fired up and cried out that he hated all that +were of that name. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” said I, “he is a man you should be proud to give your hand to.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know nothing I would help a Campbell to,” says he, “unless it was a leaden +bullet. I would hunt all of that name like blackcocks. If I lay dying, I would +crawl upon my knees to my chamber window for a shot at one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Alan,” I cried, “what ails ye at the Campbells?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” says he, “ye ken very well that I am an Appin Stewart, and the +Campbells have long harried and wasted those of my name; ay, and got lands of +us by treachery—but never with the sword,” he cried loudly, and with the word +brought down his fist upon the table. But I paid the less attention to this, +for I knew it was usually said by those who have the underhand. “There’s more +than that,” he continued, “and all in the same story: lying words, lying +papers, tricks fit for a peddler, and the show of what’s legal over all, to +make a man the more angry.” +</p> + +<p> +“You that are so wasteful of your buttons,” said I, “I can hardly think you +would be a good judge of business.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” says he, falling again to smiling, “I got my wastefulness from the same +man I got the buttons from; and that was my poor father, Duncan Stewart, grace +be to him! He was the prettiest man of his kindred; and the best swordsman in +the Hielands, David, and that is the same as to say, in all the world, I should +ken, for it was him that taught me. He was in the Black Watch, when first it +was mustered; and, like other gentlemen privates, had a gillie at his back to +carry his firelock for him on the march. Well, the King, it appears, was +wishful to see Hieland swordsmanship; and my father and three more were chosen +out and sent to London town, to let him see it at the best. So they were had +into the palace and showed the whole art of the sword for two hours at a +stretch, before King George and Queen Carline, and the Butcher Cumberland, and +many more of whom I havenae mind. And when they were through, the King (for all +he was a rank usurper) spoke them fair and gave each man three guineas in his +hand. Now, as they were going out of the palace, they had a porter’s lodge to +go by; and it came in on my father, as he was perhaps the first private Hieland +gentleman that had ever gone by that door, it was right he should give the poor +porter a proper notion of their quality. So he gives the King’s three guineas +into the man’s hand, as if it was his common custom; the three others that came +behind him did the same; and there they were on the street, never a penny the +better for their pains. Some say it was one, that was the first to fee the +King’s porter; and some say it was another; but the truth of it is, that it was +Duncan Stewart, as I am willing to prove with either sword or pistol. And that +was the father that I had, God rest him!” +</p> + +<p> +“I think he was not the man to leave you rich,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“And that’s true,” said Alan. “He left me my breeks to cover me, and little +besides. And that was how I came to enlist, which was a black spot upon my +character at the best of times, and would still be a sore job for me if I fell +among the red-coats.” +</p> + +<p> +“What,” cried I, “were you in the English army?” +</p> + +<p> +“That was I,” said Alan. “But I deserted to the right side at Preston Pans—and +that’s some comfort.” +</p> + +<p> +I could scarcely share this view: holding desertion under arms for an +unpardonable fault in honour. But for all I was so young, I was wiser than say +my thought. “Dear, dear,” says I, “the punishment is death.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay” said he, “if they got hands on me, it would be a short shrift and a lang +tow for Alan! But I have the King of France’s commission in my pocket, which +would aye be some protection.” +</p> + +<p> +“I misdoubt it much,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“I have doubts mysel’,” said Alan drily. +</p> + +<p> +“And, good heaven, man,” cried I, “you that are a condemned rebel, and a +deserter, and a man of the French King’s—what tempts ye back into this country? +It’s a braving of Providence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tut!” says Alan, “I have been back every year since forty-six!” +</p> + +<p> +“And what brings ye, man?” cried I. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, ye see, I weary for my friends and country,” said he. “France is a braw +place, nae doubt; but I weary for the heather and the deer. And then I have bit +things that I attend to. Whiles I pick up a few lads to serve the King of +France: recruits, ye see; and that’s aye a little money. But the heart of the +matter is the business of my chief, Ardshiel.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought they called your chief Appin,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, but Ardshiel is the captain of the clan,” said he, which scarcely cleared +my mind. “Ye see, David, he that was all his life so great a man, and come of +the blood and bearing the name of kings, is now brought down to live in a +French town like a poor and private person. He that had four hundred swords at +his whistle, I have seen, with these eyes of mine, buying butter in the +market-place, and taking it home in a kale-leaf. This is not only a pain but a +disgrace to us of his family and clan. There are the bairns forby, the children +and the hope of Appin, that must be learned their letters and how to hold a +sword, in that far country. Now, the tenants of Appin have to pay a rent to +King George; but their hearts are staunch, they are true to their chief; and +what with love and a bit of pressure, and maybe a threat or two, the poor folk +scrape up a second rent for Ardshiel. Well, David, I’m the hand that carries +it.” And he struck the belt about his body, so that the guineas rang. +</p> + +<p> +“Do they pay both?” cried I. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, David, both,” says he. +</p> + +<p> +“What! two rents?” I repeated. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, David,” said he. “I told a different tale to yon captain man; but this is +the truth of it. And it’s wonderful to me how little pressure is needed. But +that’s the handiwork of my good kinsman and my father’s friend, James of the +Glens: James Stewart, that is: Ardshiel’s half-brother. He it is that gets the +money in, and does the management.” +</p> + +<p> +This was the first time I heard the name of that James Stewart, who was +afterwards so famous at the time of his hanging. But I took little heed at the +moment, for all my mind was occupied with the generosity of these poor +Highlanders. +</p> + +<p> +“I call it noble,” I cried. “I’m a Whig, or little better; but I call it +noble.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay” said he, “ye’re a Whig, but ye’re a gentleman; and that’s what does it. +Now, if ye were one of the cursed race of Campbell, ye would gnash your teeth +to hear tell of it. If ye were the Red Fox...” And at that name, his teeth shut +together, and he ceased speaking. I have seen many a grim face, but never a +grimmer than Alan’s when he had named the Red Fox. +</p> + +<p> +“And who is the Red Fox?” I asked, daunted, but still curious. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is he?” cried Alan. “Well, and I’ll tell you that. When the men of the +clans were broken at Culloden, and the good cause went down, and the horses +rode over the fetlocks in the best blood of the north, Ardshiel had to flee +like a poor deer upon the mountains—he and his lady and his bairns. A sair job +we had of it before we got him shipped; and while he still lay in the heather, +the English rogues, that couldnae come at his life, were striking at his +rights. They stripped him of his powers; they stripped him of his lands; they +plucked the weapons from the hands of his clansmen, that had borne arms for +thirty centuries; ay, and the very clothes off their backs—so that it’s now a +sin to wear a tartan plaid, and a man may be cast into a gaol if he has but a +kilt about his legs. One thing they couldnae kill. That was the love the +clansmen bore their chief. These guineas are the proof of it. And now, in there +steps a man, a Campbell, red-headed Colin of Glenure——” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that him you call the Red Fox?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Will ye bring me his brush?” cries Alan, fiercely. “Ay, that’s the man. In he +steps, and gets papers from King George, to be so-called King’s factor on the +lands of Appin. And at first he sings small, and is hail-fellow-well-met with +Sheamus—that’s James of the Glens, my chieftain’s agent. But by-and-by, that +came to his ears that I have just told you; how the poor commons of Appin, the +farmers and the crofters and the boumen, were wringing their very plaids to get +a second rent, and send it over-seas for Ardshiel and his poor bairns. What was +it ye called it, when I told ye?” +</p> + +<p> +“I called it noble, Alan,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“And you little better than a common Whig!” cries Alan. “But when it came to +Colin Roy, the black Campbell blood in him ran wild. He sat gnashing his teeth +at the wine table. What! should a Stewart get a bite of bread, and him not be +able to prevent it? Ah! Red Fox, if ever I hold you at a gun’s end, the Lord +have pity upon ye!” (Alan stopped to swallow down his anger.) “Well, David, +what does he do? He declares all the farms to let. And, thinks he, in his black +heart, ‘I’ll soon get other tenants that’ll overbid these Stewarts, and +Maccolls, and Macrobs’ (for these are all names in my clan, David); ‘and then,’ +thinks he, ‘Ardshiel will have to hold his bonnet on a French roadside.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said I, “what followed?” +</p> + +<p> +Alan laid down his pipe, which he had long since suffered to go out, and set +his two hands upon his knees. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said he, “ye’ll never guess that! For these same Stewarts, and Maccolls, +and Macrobs (that had two rents to pay, one to King George by stark force, and +one to Ardshiel by natural kindness) offered him a better price than any +Campbell in all broad Scotland; and far he sent seeking them—as far as to the +sides of Clyde and the cross of Edinburgh—seeking, and fleeching, and begging +them to come, where there was a Stewart to be starved and a red-headed hound of +a Campbell to be pleasured!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Alan,” said I, “that is a strange story, and a fine one, too. And Whig +as I may be, I am glad the man was beaten.” +</p> + +<p> +“Him beaten?” echoed Alan. “It’s little ye ken of Campbells, and less of the +Red Fox. Him beaten? No: nor will be, till his blood’s on the hillside! But if +the day comes, David man, that I can find time and leisure for a bit of +hunting, there grows not enough heather in all Scotland to hide him from my +vengeance!” +</p> + +<p> +“Man Alan,” said I, “ye are neither very wise nor very Christian to blow off so +many words of anger. They will do the man ye call the Fox no harm, and yourself +no good. Tell me your tale plainly out. What did he next?” +</p> + +<p> +“And that’s a good observe, David,” said Alan. “Troth and indeed, they will do +him no harm; the more’s the pity! And barring that about Christianity (of which +my opinion is quite otherwise, or I would be nae Christian), I am much of your +mind.” +</p> + +<p> +“Opinion here or opinion there,” said I, “it’s a kent thing that Christianity +forbids revenge.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay” said he, “it’s well seen it was a Campbell taught ye! It would be a +convenient world for them and their sort, if there was no such a thing as a lad +and a gun behind a heather bush! But that’s nothing to the point. This is what +he did.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay” said I, “come to that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, David,” said he, “since he couldnae be rid of the loyal commons by fair +means, he swore he would be rid of them by foul. Ardshiel was to starve: that +was the thing he aimed at. And since them that fed him in his exile wouldnae be +bought out—right or wrong, he would drive them out. Therefore he sent for +lawyers, and papers, and red-coats to stand at his back. And the kindly folk of +that country must all pack and tramp, every father’s son out of his father’s +house, and out of the place where he was bred and fed, and played when he was a +callant. And who are to succeed them? Bare-leggit beggars! King George is to +whistle for his rents; he maun dow with less; he can spread his butter thinner: +what cares Red Colin? If he can hurt Ardshiel, he has his wish; if he can pluck +the meat from my chieftain’s table, and the bit toys out of his children’s +hands, he will gang hame singing to Glenure!” +</p> + +<p> +“Let me have a word,” said I. “Be sure, if they take less rents, be sure +Government has a finger in the pie. It’s not this Campbell’s fault, man—it’s +his orders. And if ye killed this Colin to-morrow, what better would ye be? +There would be another factor in his shoes, as fast as spur can drive.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ye’re a good lad in a fight,” said Alan; “but, man! ye have Whig blood in ye!” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke kindly enough, but there was so much anger under his contempt that I +thought it was wise to change the conversation. I expressed my wonder how, with +the Highlands covered with troops, and guarded like a city in a siege, a man in +his situation could come and go without arrest. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s easier than ye would think,” said Alan. “A bare hillside (ye see) is like +all one road; if there’s a sentry at one place, ye just go by another. And then +the heather’s a great help. And everywhere there are friends’ houses and +friends’ byres and haystacks. And besides, when folk talk of a country covered +with troops, it’s but a kind of a byword at the best. A soldier covers nae mair +of it than his boot-soles. I have fished a water with a sentry on the other +side of the brae, and killed a fine trout; and I have sat in a heather bush +within six feet of another, and learned a real bonny tune from his whistling. +This was it,” said he, and whistled me the air. +</p> + +<p> +“And then, besides,” he continued, “it’s no sae bad now as it was in forty-six. +The Hielands are what they call pacified. Small wonder, with never a gun or a +sword left from Cantyre to Cape Wrath, but what tenty<a href="#fn17" +name="fnref17"><sup>[17]</sup></a> folk have hidden in their thatch! But what I +would like to ken, David, is just how long? Not long, ye would think, with men +like Ardshiel in exile and men like the Red Fox sitting birling the wine and +oppressing the poor at home. But it’s a kittle thing to decide what folk’ll +bear, and what they will not. Or why would Red Colin be riding his horse all +over my poor country of Appin, and never a pretty lad to put a bullet in him?” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn17"></a> <a href="#fnref17">[17]</a> +Careful. +</p> + +<p> +And with this Alan fell into a muse, and for a long time sate very sad and +silent. +</p> + +<p> +I will add the rest of what I have to say about my friend, that he was skilled +in all kinds of music, but principally pipe-music; was a well-considered poet +in his own tongue; had read several books both in French and English; was a +dead shot, a good angler, and an excellent fencer with the small sword as well +as with his own particular weapon. For his faults, they were on his face, and I +now knew them all. But the worst of them, his childish propensity to take +offence and to pick quarrels, he greatly laid aside in my case, out of regard +for the battle of the round-house. But whether it was because I had done well +myself, or because I had been a witness of his own much greater prowess, is +more than I can tell. For though he had a great taste for courage in other men, +yet he admired it most in Alan Breck. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0135.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XIII" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0013"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br/> +THE LOSS OF THE BRIG</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9135.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="I" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +t was already late at night, and as dark as it ever would be at that season of +the year (and that is to say, it was still pretty bright), when Hoseason +clapped his head into the round-house door. +</p> + +<p> +“Here,” said he, “come out and see if ye can pilot.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is this one of your tricks?” asked Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“Do I look like tricks?” cries the captain. “I have other things to think of—my +brig’s in danger!” +</p> + +<p> +By the concerned look of his face, and, above all, by the sharp tones in which +he spoke of his brig, it was plain to both of us he was in deadly earnest; and +so Alan and I, with no great fear of treachery, stepped on deck. +</p> + +<p> +The sky was clear; it blew hard, and was bitter cold; a great deal of daylight +lingered; and the moon, which was nearly full, shone brightly. The brig was +close hauled, so as to round the southwest corner of the Island of Mull, the +hills of which (and Ben More above them all, with a wisp of mist upon the top +of it) lay full upon the lar-board bow. Though it was no good point of sailing +for the <i>Covenant</i>, she tore through the seas at a great rate, pitching +and straining, and pursued by the westerly swell. +</p> + +<p> +Altogether it was no such ill night to keep the seas in; and I had begun to +wonder what it was that sat so heavily upon the captain, when the brig rising +suddenly on the top of a high swell, he pointed and cried to us to look. Away +on the lee bow, a thing like a fountain rose out of the moonlit sea, and +immediately after we heard a low sound of roaring. +</p> + +<p> +“What do ye call that?” asked the captain, gloomily. +</p> + +<p> +“The sea breaking on a reef,” said Alan. “And now ye ken where it is; and what +better would ye have?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said Hoseason, “if it was the only one.” +</p> + +<p> +And sure enough, just as he spoke there came a second fountain farther to the +south. +</p> + +<p> +“There!” said Hoseason. “Ye see for yourself. If I had kent of these reefs, if +I had had a chart, or if Shuan had been spared, it’s not sixty guineas, no, nor +six hundred, would have made me risk my brig in sic a stoneyard! But you, sir, +that was to pilot us, have ye never a word?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m thinking,” said Alan, “these’ll be what they call the Torran Rocks.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are there many of them?” says the captain. +</p> + +<p> +“Truly, sir, I am nae pilot,” said Alan; “but it sticks in my mind there are +ten miles of them.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Riach and the captain looked at each other. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a way through them, I suppose?” said the captain. +</p> + +<p> +“Doubtless,” said Alan, “but where? But it somehow runs in my mind once more +that it is clearer under the land.” +</p> + +<p> +“So?” said Hoseason. “We’ll have to haul our wind then, Mr. Riach; we’ll have +to come as near in about the end of Mull as we can take her, sir; and even then +we’ll have the land to kep the wind off us, and that stoneyard on our lee. +Well, we’re in for it now, and may as well crack on.” +</p> + +<p> +With that he gave an order to the steersman, and sent Riach to the foretop. +There were only five men on deck, counting the officers; these being all that +were fit (or, at least, both fit and willing) for their work. So, as I say, it +fell to Mr. Riach to go aloft, and he sat there looking out and hailing the +deck with news of all he saw. +</p> + +<p> +“The sea to the south is thick,” he cried; and then, after a while, “it does +seem clearer in by the land.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” said Hoseason to Alan, “we’ll try your way of it. But I think I +might as well trust to a blind fiddler. Pray God you’re right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray God I am!” says Alan to me. “But where did I hear it? Well, well, it will +be as it must.” +</p> + +<p> +As we got nearer to the turn of the land the reefs began to be sown here and +there on our very path; and Mr. Riach sometimes cried down to us to change the +course. Sometimes, indeed, none too soon; for one reef was so close on the +brig’s weather board that when a sea burst upon it the lighter sprays fell upon +her deck and wetted us like rain. +</p> + +<p> +The brightness of the night showed us these perils as clearly as by day, which +was, perhaps, the more alarming. It showed me, too, the face of the captain as +he stood by the steersman, now on one foot, now on the other, and sometimes +blowing in his hands, but still listening and looking and as steady as steel. +Neither he nor Mr. Riach had shown well in the fighting; but I saw they were +brave in their own trade, and admired them all the more because I found Alan +very white. +</p> + +<p> +“Ochone, David,” says he, “this is no the kind of death I fancy!” +</p> + +<p> +“What, Alan!” I cried, “you’re not afraid?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said he, wetting his lips, “but you’ll allow, yourself, it’s a cold +ending.” +</p> + +<p> +By this time, now and then sheering to one side or the other to avoid a reef, +but still hugging the wind and the land, we had got round Iona and begun to +come alongside Mull. The tide at the tail of the land ran very strong, and +threw the brig about. Two hands were put to the helm, and Hoseason himself +would sometimes lend a help; and it was strange to see three strong men throw +their weight upon the tiller, and it (like a living thing) struggle against and +drive them back. This would have been the greater danger had not the sea been +for some while free of obstacles. Mr. Riach, besides, announced from the top +that he saw clear water ahead. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye were right,” said Hoseason to Alan. “Ye have saved the brig, sir. I’ll mind +that when we come to clear accounts.” And I believe he not only meant what he +said, but would have done it; so high a place did the <i>Covenant</i> hold in +his affections. +</p> + +<p> +But this is matter only for conjecture, things having gone otherwise than he +forecast. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep her away a point,” sings out Mr. Riach. “Reef to windward!” +</p> + +<p> +And just at the same time the tide caught the brig, and threw the wind out of +her sails. She came round into the wind like a top, and the next moment struck +the reef with such a dunch as threw us all flat upon the deck, and came near to +shake Mr. Riach from his place upon the mast. +</p> + +<p> +I was on my feet in a minute. The reef on which we had struck was close in +under the southwest end of Mull, off a little isle they call Earraid, which lay +low and black upon the larboard. Sometimes the swell broke clean over us; +sometimes it only ground the poor brig upon the reef, so that we could hear her +beat herself to pieces; and what with the great noise of the sails, and the +singing of the wind, and the flying of the spray in the moonlight, and the +sense of danger, I think my head must have been partly turned, for I could +scarcely understand the things I saw. +</p> + +<p> +Presently I observed Mr. Riach and the seamen busy round the skiff, and, still +in the same blank, ran over to assist them; and as soon as I set my hand to +work, my mind came clear again. It was no very easy task, for the skiff lay +amidships and was full of hamper, and the breaking of the heavier seas +continually forced us to give over and hold on; but we all wrought like horses +while we could. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile such of the wounded as could move came clambering out of the +fore-scuttle and began to help; while the rest that lay helpless in their bunks +harrowed me with screaming and begging to be saved. +</p> + +<p> +The captain took no part. It seemed he was struck stupid. He stood holding by +the shrouds, talking to himself and groaning out aloud whenever the ship +hammered on the rock. His brig was like wife and child to him; he had looked +on, day by day, at the mishandling of poor Ransome; but when it came to the +brig, he seemed to suffer along with her. +</p> + +<p> +All the time of our working at the boat, I remember only one other thing: that +I asked Alan, looking across at the shore, what country it was; and he +answered, it was the worst possible for him, for it was a land of the +Campbells. +</p> + +<p> +We had one of the wounded men told off to keep a watch upon the seas and cry us +warning. Well, we had the boat about ready to be launched, when this man sang +out pretty shrill: “For God’s sake, hold on!” We knew by his tone that it was +something more than ordinary; and sure enough, there followed a sea so huge +that it lifted the brig right up and canted her over on her beam. Whether the +cry came too late, or my hold was too weak, I know not; but at the sudden +tilting of the ship I was cast clean over the bulwarks into the sea. +</p> + +<p> +I went down, and drank my fill, and then came up, and got a blink of the moon, +and then down again. They say a man sinks a third time for good. I cannot be +made like other folk, then; for I would not like to write how often I went +down, or how often I came up again. All the while, I was being hurled along, +and beaten upon and choked, and then swallowed whole; and the thing was so +distracting to my wits, that I was neither sorry nor afraid. +</p> + +<p> +Presently, I found I was holding to a spar, which helped me somewhat. And then +all of a sudden I was in quiet water, and began to come to myself. +</p> + +<p> +It was the spare yard I had got hold of, and I was amazed to see how far I had +travelled from the brig. I hailed her, indeed; but it was plain she was already +out of cry. She was still holding together; but whether or not they had yet +launched the boat, I was too far off and too low down to see. +</p> + +<p> +While I was hailing the brig, I spied a tract of water lying between us where +no great waves came, but which yet boiled white all over and bristled in the +moon with rings and bubbles. Sometimes the whole tract swung to one side, like +the tail of a live serpent; sometimes, for a glimpse, it would all disappear +and then boil up again. What it was I had no guess, which for the time +increased my fear of it; but I now know it must have been the roost or tide +race, which had carried me away so fast and tumbled me about so cruelly, and at +last, as if tired of that play, had flung out me and the spare yard upon its +landward margin. +</p> + +<p> +I now lay quite becalmed, and began to feel that a man can die of cold as well +as of drowning. The shores of Earraid were close in; I could see in the +moonlight the dots of heather and the sparkling of the mica in the rocks. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” thought I to myself, “if I cannot get as far as that, it’s strange!” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0141.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="When I kicked out..." /> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0143.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="When I kicked out with +both feed, I soon began to find that I was moving" /> +</div> + +<p> +I had no skill of swimming, Essen Water being small in our neighbourhood; but +when I laid hold upon the yard with both arms, and kicked out with both feet, I +soon begun to find that I was moving. Hard work it was, and mortally slow; but +in about an hour of kicking and splashing, I had got well in between the points +of a sandy bay surrounded by low hills. +</p> + +<p> +The sea was here quite quiet; there was no sound of any surf; the moon shone +clear; and I thought in my heart I had never seen a place so desert and +desolate. But it was dry land; and when at last it grew so shallow that I could +leave the yard and wade ashore upon my feet, I cannot tell if I was more tired +or more grateful. Both, at least, I was: tired as I never was before that +night; and grateful to God as I trust I have been often, though never with more +cause. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0146.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XIV" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0014"></a>CHAPTER XIV<br/> +THE ISLET</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9146.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="W" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +ith my stepping ashore I began the most unhappy part of my adventures. It was +half-past twelve in the morning, and though the wind was broken by the land, it +was a cold night. I dared not sit down (for I thought I should have frozen), +but took off my shoes and walked to and fro upon the sand, bare-foot, and +beating my breast with infinite weariness. There was no sound of man or cattle; +not a cock crew, though it was about the hour of their first waking; only the +surf broke outside in the distance, which put me in mind of my perils and those +of my friend. To walk by the sea at that hour of the morning, and in a place so +desert-like and lonesome, struck me with a kind of fear. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as the day began to break I put on my shoes and climbed a hill—the +ruggedest scramble I ever undertook—falling, the whole way, between big blocks +of granite, or leaping from one to another. When I got to the top the dawn was +come. There was no sign of the brig, which must have lifted from the reef and +sunk. The boat, too, was nowhere to be seen. There was never a sail upon the +ocean; and in what I could see of the land was neither house nor man. +</p> + +<p> +I was afraid to think what had befallen my shipmates, and afraid to look longer +at so empty a scene. What with my wet clothes and weariness, and my belly that +now began to ache with hunger, I had enough to trouble me without that. So I +set off eastward along the south coast, hoping to find a house where I might +warm myself, and perhaps get news of those I had lost. And at the worst, I +considered the sun would soon rise and dry my clothes. +</p> + +<p> +After a little, my way was stopped by a creek or inlet of the sea, which seemed +to run pretty deep into the land; and as I had no means to get across, I must +needs change my direction to go about the end of it. It was still the roughest +kind of walking; indeed the whole, not only of Earraid, but of the neighbouring +part of Mull (which they call the Ross) is nothing but a jumble of granite +rocks with heather in among. At first the creek kept narrowing as I had looked +to see; but presently to my surprise it began to widen out again. At this I +scratched my head, but had still no notion of the truth: until at last I came +to a rising ground, and it burst upon me all in a moment that I was cast upon a +little barren isle, and cut off on every side by the salt seas. +</p> + +<p> +Instead of the sun rising to dry me, it came on to rain, with a thick mist; so +that my case was lamentable. +</p> + +<p> +I stood in the rain, and shivered, and wondered what to do, till it occurred to +me that perhaps the creek was fordable. Back I went to the narrowest point and +waded in. But not three yards from shore, I plumped in head over ears; and if +ever I was heard of more, it was rather by God’s grace than my own prudence. I +was no wetter (for that could hardly be), but I was all the colder for this +mishap; and having lost another hope was the more unhappy. +</p> + +<p> +And now, all at once, the yard came in my head. What had carried me through the +roost would surely serve me to cross this little quiet creek in safety. With +that I set off, undaunted, across the top of the isle, to fetch and carry it +back. It was a weary tramp in all ways, and if hope had not buoyed me up, I +must have cast myself down and given up. Whether with the sea salt, or because +I was growing fevered, I was distressed with thirst, and had to stop, as I +went, and drink the peaty water out of the hags. +</p> + +<p> +I came to the bay at last, more dead than alive; and at the first glance, I +thought the yard was something farther out than when I left it. In I went, for +the third time, into the sea. The sand was smooth and firm, and shelved +gradually down, so that I could wade out till the water was almost to my neck +and the little waves splashed into my face. But at that depth my feet began to +leave me, and I durst venture in no farther. As for the yard, I saw it bobbing +very quietly some twenty feet beyond. +</p> + +<p> +I had borne up well until this last disappointment; but at that I came ashore, +and flung myself down upon the sands and wept. +</p> + +<p> +The time I spent upon the island is still so horrible a thought to me, that I +must pass it lightly over. In all the books I have read of people cast away, +they had either their pockets full of tools, or a chest of things would be +thrown upon the beach along with them, as if on purpose. My case was very +different. I had nothing in my pockets but money and Alan’s silver button; and +being inland bred, I was as much short of knowledge as of means. +</p> + +<p> +I knew indeed that shell-fish were counted good to eat; and among the rocks of +the isle I found a great plenty of limpets, which at first I could scarcely +strike from their places, not knowing quickness to be needful. There were, +besides, some of the little shells that we call buckies; I think periwinkle is +the English name. Of these two I made my whole diet, devouring them cold and +raw as I found them; and so hungry was I, that at first they seemed to me +delicious. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps they were out of season, or perhaps there was something wrong in the +sea about my island. But at least I had no sooner eaten my first meal than I +was seized with giddiness and retching, and lay for a long time no better than +dead. A second trial of the same food (indeed I had no other) did better with +me, and revived my strength. But as long as I was on the island, I never knew +what to expect when I had eaten; sometimes all was well, and sometimes I was +thrown into a miserable sickness; nor could I ever distinguish what particular +fish it was that hurt me. +</p> + +<p> +All day it streamed rain; the island ran like a sop, there was no dry spot to +be found; and when I lay down that night, between two boulders that made a kind +of roof, my feet were in a bog. +</p> + +<p> +The second day I crossed the island to all sides. There was no one part of it +better than another; it was all desolate and rocky; nothing living on it but +game birds which I lacked the means to kill, and the gulls which haunted the +outlying rocks in a prodigious number. But the creek, or strait, that cut off +the isle from the main-land of the Ross, opened out on the north into a bay, +and the bay again opened into the Sound of Iona; and it was the neighbourhood +of this place that I chose to be my home; though if I had thought upon the very +name of home in such a spot, I must have burst out weeping. +</p> + +<p> +I had good reasons for my choice. There was in this part of the isle a little +hut of a house like a pig’s hut, where fishers used to sleep when they came +there upon their business; but the turf roof of it had fallen entirely in; so +that the hut was of no use to me, and gave me less shelter than my rocks. What +was more important, the shell-fish on which I lived grew there in great plenty; +when the tide was out I could gather a peck at a time: and this was doubtless a +convenience. But the other reason went deeper. I had become in no way used to +the horrid solitude of the isle, but still looked round me on all sides (like a +man that was hunted), between fear and hope that I might see some human +creature coming. Now, from a little up the hillside over the bay, I could catch +a sight of the great, ancient church and the roofs of the people’s houses in +Iona. And on the other hand, over the low country of the Ross, I saw smoke go +up, morning and evening, as if from a homestead in a hollow of the land. +</p> + +<p> +I used to watch this smoke, when I was wet and cold, and had my head half +turned with loneliness; and think of the fireside and the company, till my +heart burned. It was the same with the roofs of Iona. Altogether, this sight I +had of men’s homes and comfortable lives, although it put a point on my own +sufferings, yet it kept hope alive, and helped me to eat my raw shell-fish +(which had soon grown to be a disgust), and saved me from the sense of horror I +had whenever I was quite alone with dead rocks, and fowls, and the rain, and +the cold sea. +</p> + +<p> +I say it kept hope alive; and indeed it seemed impossible that I should be left +to die on the shores of my own country, and within view of a church-tower and +the smoke of men’s houses. But the second day passed; and though as long as the +light lasted I kept a bright look-out for boats on the Sound or men passing on +the Ross, no help came near me. It still rained, and I turned in to sleep, as +wet as ever, and with a cruel sore throat, but a little comforted, perhaps, by +having said good-night to my next neighbours, the people of Iona. +</p> + +<p> +Charles the Second declared a man could stay outdoors more days in the year in +the climate of England than in any other. This was very like a king, with a +palace at his back and changes of dry clothes. But he must have had better luck +on his flight from Worcester than I had on that miserable isle. It was the +height of the summer; yet it rained for more than twenty-four hours, and did +not clear until the afternoon of the third day. +</p> + +<p> +This was the day of incidents. In the morning I saw a red deer, a buck with a +fine spread of antlers, standing in the rain on the top of the island; but he +had scarce seen me rise from under my rock, before he trotted off upon the +other side. I supposed he must have swum the strait; though what should bring +any creature to Earraid, was more than I could fancy. +</p> + +<p> +A little after, as I was jumping about after my limpets, I was startled by a +guinea-piece, which fell upon a rock in front of me and glanced off into the +sea. When the sailors gave me my money again, they kept back not only about a +third of the whole sum, but my father’s leather purse; so that from that day +out, I carried my gold loose in a pocket with a button. I now saw there must be +a hole, and clapped my hand to the place in a great hurry. But this was to lock +the stable door after the steed was stolen. I had left the shore at Queensferry +with near on fifty pounds; now I found no more than two guinea-pieces and a +silver shilling. +</p> + +<p> +It is true I picked up a third guinea a little after, where it lay shining on a +piece of turf. That made a fortune of three pounds and four shillings, English +money, for a lad, the rightful heir of an estate, and now starving on an isle +at the extreme end of the wild Highlands. +</p> + +<p> +This state of my affairs dashed me still further; and, indeed my plight on that +third morning was truly pitiful. My clothes were beginning to rot; my stockings +in particular were quite worn through, so that my shanks went naked; my hands +had grown quite soft with the continual soaking; my throat was very sore, my +strength had much abated, and my heart so turned against the horrid stuff I was +condemned to eat, that the very sight of it came near to sicken me. +</p> + +<p> +And yet the worst was not yet come. +</p> + +<p> +There is a pretty high rock on the northwest of Earraid, which (because it had +a flat top and overlooked the Sound) I was much in the habit of frequenting; +not that ever I stayed in one place, save when asleep, my misery giving me no +rest. Indeed, I wore myself down with continual and aimless goings and comings +in the rain. +</p> + +<p> +As soon, however, as the sun came out, I lay down on the top of that rock to +dry myself. The comfort of the sunshine is a thing I cannot tell. It set me +thinking hopefully of my deliverance, of which I had begun to despair; and I +scanned the sea and the Ross with a fresh interest. On the south of my rock, a +part of the island jutted out and hid the open ocean, so that a boat could thus +come quite near me upon that side, and I be none the wiser. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0153.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="A coble with a brown sail +came flying round that corner of the isle" /> +</div> + +<p> +Well, all of a sudden, a coble with a brown sail and a pair of fishers aboard +of it, came flying round that corner of the isle, bound for Iona. I shouted +out, and then fell on my knees on the rock and reached up my hands and prayed +to them. They were near enough to hear—I could even see the colour of their +hair; and there was no doubt but they observed me, for they cried out in the +Gaelic tongue, and laughed. But the boat never turned aside, and flew on, right +before my eyes, for Iona. +</p> + +<p> +I could not believe such wickedness, and ran along the shore from rock to rock, +crying on them piteously even after they were out of reach of my voice, I still +cried and waved to them; and when they were quite gone, I thought my heart +would have burst. All the time of my troubles I wept only twice. Once, when I +could not reach the yard, and now, the second time, when these fishers turned a +deaf ear to my cries. But this time I wept and roared like a wicked child, +tearing up the turf with my nails, and grinding my face in the earth. If a wish +would kill men, those two fishers would never have seen morning, and I should +likely have died upon my island. +</p> + +<p> +When I was a little over my anger, I must eat again, but with such loathing of +the mess as I could now scarce control. Sure enough, I should have done as well +to fast, for my fishes poisoned me again. I had all my first pains; my throat +was so sore I could scarce swallow; I had a fit of strong shuddering, which +clucked my teeth together; and there came on me that dreadful sense of illness, +which we have no name for either in Scotch or English. I thought I should have +died, and made my peace with God, forgiving all men, even my uncle and the +fishers; and as soon as I had thus made up my mind to the worst, clearness came +upon me; I observed the night was falling dry; my clothes were dried a good +deal; truly, I was in a better case than ever before, since I had landed on the +isle; and so I got to sleep at last, with a thought of gratitude. +</p> + +<p> +The next day (which was the fourth of this horrible life of mine) I found my +bodily strength run very low. But the sun shone, the air was sweet, and what I +managed to eat of the shell-fish agreed well with me and revived my courage. +</p> + +<p> +I was scarce back on my rock (where I went always the first thing after I had +eaten) before I observed a boat coming down the Sound, and with her head, as I +thought, in my direction. +</p> + +<p> +I began at once to hope and fear exceedingly; for I thought these men might +have thought better of their cruelty and be coming back to my assistance. But +another disappointment, such as yesterday’s, was more than I could bear. I +turned my back, accordingly, upon the sea, and did not look again till I had +counted many hundreds. The boat was still heading for the island. The next time +I counted the full thousand, as slowly as I could, my heart beating so as to +hurt me. And then it was out of all question. She was coming straight to +Earraid! +</p> + +<p> +I could no longer hold myself back, but ran to the seaside and out, from one +rock to another, as far as I could go. It is a marvel I was not drowned; for +when I was brought to a stand at last, my legs shook under me, and my mouth was +so dry, I must wet it with the sea-water before I was able to shout. +</p> + +<p> +All this time the boat was coming on; and now I was able to perceive it was the +same boat and the same two men as yesterday. This I knew by their hair, which +the one had of a bright yellow and the other black. But now there was a third +man along with them, who looked to be of a better class. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as they were come within easy speech, they let down their sail and lay +quiet. In spite of my supplications, they drew no nearer in, and what +frightened me most of all, the new man tee-hee’d with laughter as he talked and +looked at me. +</p> + +<p> +Then he stood up in the boat and addressed me a long while, speaking fast and +with many wavings of his hand. I told him I had no Gaelic; and at this he +became very angry, and I began to suspect he thought he was talking English. +Listening very close, I caught the word “whateffer” several times; but all the +rest was Gaelic and might have been Greek and Hebrew for me. +</p> + +<p> +“Whatever,” said I, to show him I had caught a word. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes—yes, yes,” says he, and then he looked at the other men, as much as +to say, “I told you I spoke English,” and began again as hard as ever in the +Gaelic. +</p> + +<p> +This time I picked out another word, “tide.” Then I had a flash of hope. I +remembered he was always waving his hand towards the mainland of the Ross. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean when the tide is out—?” I cried, and could not finish. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes,” said he. “Tide.” +</p> + +<p> +At that I turned tail upon their boat (where my adviser had once more begun to +tee-hee with laughter), leaped back the way I had come, from one stone to +another, and set off running across the isle as I had never run before. In +about half an hour I came out upon the shores of the creek; and, sure enough, +it was shrunk into a little trickle of water, through which I dashed, not above +my knees, and landed with a shout on the main island. +</p> + +<p> +A sea-bred boy would not have stayed a day on Earraid; which is only what they +call a tidal islet, and except in the bottom of the neaps, can be entered and +left twice in every twenty-four hours, either dry-shod, or at the most by +wading. Even I, who had the tide going out and in before me in the bay, and +even watched for the ebbs, the better to get my shellfish—even I (I say) if I +had sat down to think, instead of raging at my fate, must have soon guessed the +secret, and got free. It was no wonder the fishers had not understood me. The +wonder was rather that they had ever guessed my pitiful illusion, and taken the +trouble to come back. I had starved with cold and hunger on that island for +close upon one hundred hours. But for the fishers, I might have left my bones +there, in pure folly. And even as it was, I had paid for it pretty dear, not +only in past sufferings, but in my present case; being clothed like a +beggar-man, scarce able to walk, and in great pain of my sore throat. +</p> + +<p> +I have seen wicked men and fools, a great many of both; and I believe they both +get paid in the end; but the fools first. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0158.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XV" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0015"></a>CHAPTER XV<br/> +THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9158.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="T" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +he Ross of Mull, which I had now got upon, was rugged and trackless, like the +isle I had just left; being all bog, and brier, and big stone. There may be +roads for them that know that country well; but for my part I had no better +guide than my own nose, and no other landmark than Ben More. +</p> + +<p> +I aimed as well as I could for the smoke I had seen so often from the island; +and with all my great weariness and the difficulty of the way came upon the +house in the bottom of a little hollow about five or six at night. It was low +and longish, roofed with turf and built of unmortared stones; and on a mound in +front of it, an old gentleman sat smoking his pipe in the sun. +</p> + +<p> +With what little English he had, he gave me to understand that my shipmates had +got safe ashore, and had broken bread in that very house on the day after. +</p> + +<p> +“Was there one,” I asked, “dressed like a gentleman?” +</p> + +<p> +He said they all wore rough great-coats; but to be sure, the first of them, the +one that came alone, wore breeches and stockings, while the rest had sailors’ +trousers. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah,” said I, “and he would have a feathered hat?” +</p> + +<p> +He told me, no, that he was bareheaded like myself. +</p> + +<p> +At first I thought Alan might have lost his hat; and then the rain came in my +mind, and I judged it more likely he had it out of harm’s way under his +great-coat. This set me smiling, partly because my friend was safe, partly to +think of his vanity in dress. +</p> + +<p> +And then the old gentleman clapped his hand to his brow, and cried out that I +must be the lad with the silver button. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, yes!” said I, in some wonder. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then,” said the old gentleman, “I have a word for you, that you are to +follow your friend to his country, by Torosay.” +</p> + +<p> +He then asked me how I had fared, and I told him my tale. A south-country man +would certainly have laughed; but this old gentleman (I call him so because of +his manners, for his clothes were dropping off his back) heard me all through +with nothing but gravity and pity. When I had done, he took me by the hand, led +me into his hut (it was no better) and presented me before his wife, as if she +had been the Queen and I a duke. +</p> + +<p> +The good woman set oat-bread before me and a cold grouse, patting my shoulder +and smiling to me all the time, for she had no English; and the old gentleman +(not to be behind) brewed me a strong punch out of their country spirit. All +the while I was eating, and after that when I was drinking the punch, I could +scarce come to believe in my good fortune; and the house, though it was thick +with the peat-smoke and as full of holes as a colander, seemed like a palace. +</p> + +<p> +The punch threw me in a strong sweat and a deep slumber; the good people let me +lie; and it was near noon of the next day before I took the road, my throat +already easier and my spirits quite restored by good fare and good news. The +old gentleman, although I pressed him hard, would take no money, and gave me an +old bonnet for my head; though I am free to own I was no sooner out of view of +the house than I very jealously washed this gift of his in a wayside fountain. +</p> + +<p> +Thought I to myself: “If these are the wild Highlanders, I could wish my own +folk wilder.” +</p> + +<p> +I not only started late, but I must have wandered nearly half the time. True, I +met plenty of people, grubbing in little miserable fields that would not keep a +cat, or herding little kine about the bigness of asses. The Highland dress +being forbidden by law since the rebellion, and the people condemned to the +Lowland habit, which they much disliked, it was strange to see the variety of +their array. Some went bare, only for a hanging cloak or great-coat, and +carried their trousers on their backs like a useless burthen: some had made an +imitation of the tartan with little parti-coloured stripes patched together +like an old wife’s quilt; others, again, still wore the Highland philabeg, but +by putting a few stitches between the legs transformed it into a pair of +trousers like a Dutchman’s. All those makeshifts were condemned and punished, +for the law was harshly applied, in hopes to break up the clan spirit; but in +that out-of-the-way, sea-bound isle, there were few to make remarks and fewer +to tell tales. +</p> + +<p> +They seemed in great poverty; which was no doubt natural, now that rapine was +put down, and the chiefs kept no longer an open house; and the roads (even such +a wandering, country by-track as the one I followed) were infested with +beggars. And here again I marked a difference from my own part of the country. +For our Lowland beggars—even the gownsmen themselves, who beg by patent—had a +louting, flattering way with them, and if you gave them a plaek and asked +change, would very civilly return you a boddle. But these Highland beggars +stood on their dignity, asked alms only to buy snuff (by their account) and +would give no change. +</p> + +<p> +To be sure, this was no concern of mine, except in so far as it entertained me +by the way. What was much more to the purpose, few had any English, and these +few (unless they were of the brotherhood of beggars) not very anxious to place +it at my service. I knew Torosay to be my destination, and repeated the name to +them and pointed; but instead of simply pointing in reply, they would give me a +screed of the Gaelic that set me foolish; so it was small wonder if I went out +of my road as often as I stayed in it. +</p> + +<p> +At last, about eight at night, and already very weary, I came to a lone house, +where I asked admittance, and was refused, until I bethought me of the power of +money in so poor a country, and held up one of my guineas in my finger and +thumb. Thereupon, the man of the house, who had hitherto pretended to have no +English, and driven me from his door by signals, suddenly began to speak as +clearly as was needful, and agreed for five shillings to give me a night’s +lodging and guide me the next day to Torosay. +</p> + +<p> +I slept uneasily that night, fearing I should be robbed; but I might have +spared myself the pain; for my host was no robber, only miserably poor and a +great cheat. He was not alone in his poverty; for the next morning, we must go +five miles about to the house of what he called a rich man to have one of my +guineas changed. This was perhaps a rich man for Mull; he would have scarce +been thought so in the south; for it took all he had—the whole house was turned +upside down, and a neighbour brought under contribution, before he could scrape +together twenty shillings in silver. The odd shilling he kept for himself, +protesting he could ill afford to have so great a sum of money lying “locked +up.” For all that he was very courteous and well spoken, made us both sit down +with his family to dinner, and brewed punch in a fine china bowl, over which my +rascal guide grew so merry that he refused to start. +</p> + +<p> +I was for getting angry, and appealed to the rich man (Hector Maclean was his +name), who had been a witness to our bargain and to my payment of the five +shillings. But Maclean had taken his share of the punch, and vowed that no +gentleman should leave his table after the bowl was brewed; so there was +nothing for it but to sit and hear Jacobite toasts and Gaelic songs, till all +were tipsy and staggered off to the bed or the barn for their night’s rest. +</p> + +<p> +Next day (the fourth of my travels) we were up before five upon the clock; but +my rascal guide got to the bottle at once, and it was three hours before I had +him clear of the house, and then (as you shall hear) only for a worse +disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +As long as we went down a heathery valley that lay before Mr. Maclean’s house, +all went well; only my guide looked constantly over his shoulder, and when I +asked him the cause, only grinned at me. No sooner, however, had we crossed the +back of a hill, and got out of sight of the house windows, than he told me +Torosay lay right in front, and that a hill-top (which he pointed out) was my +best landmark. +</p> + +<p> +“I care very little for that,” said I, “since you are going with me.” +</p> + +<p> +The impudent cheat answered me in the Gaelic that he had no English. +</p> + +<p> +“My fine fellow,” I said, “I know very well your English comes and goes. Tell +me what will bring it back? Is it more money you wish?” +</p> + +<p> +“Five shillings mair,” said he, “and hersel’ will bring ye there.” +</p> + +<p> +I reflected awhile and then offered him two, which he accepted greedily, and +insisted on having in his hands at once “for luck,” as he said, but I think it +was rather for my misfortune. +</p> + +<p> +The two shillings carried him not quite as many miles; at the end of which +distance, he sat down upon the wayside and took off his brogues from his feet, +like a man about to rest. +</p> + +<p> +I was now red-hot. “Ha!” said I, “have you no more English?” +</p> + +<p> +He said impudently, “No.” +</p> + +<p> +At that I boiled over, and lifted my hand to strike him; and he, drawing a +knife from his rags, squatted back and grinned at me like a wildcat. At that, +forgetting everything but my anger, I ran in upon him, put aside his knife with +my left, and struck him in the mouth with the right. I was a strong lad and +very angry, and he but a little man; and he went down before me heavily. By +good luck, his knife flew out of his hand as he fell. +</p> + +<p> +I picked up both that and his brogues, wished him a good morning, and set off +upon my way, leaving him barefoot and disarmed. I chuckled to myself as I went, +being sure I was done with that rogue, for a variety of reasons. First, he knew +he could have no more of my money; next, the brogues were worth in that country +only a few pence; and, lastly, the knife, which was really a dagger, it was +against the law for him to carry. +</p> + +<p> +In about half an hour of walk, I overtook a great, ragged man, moving pretty +fast but feeling before him with a staff. He was quite blind, and told me he +was a catechist, which should have put me at my ease. But his face went against +me; it seemed dark and dangerous and secret; and presently, as we began to go +on alongside, I saw the steel butt of a pistol sticking from under the flap of +his coat-pocket. To carry such a thing meant a fine of fifteen pounds sterling +upon a first offence, and transportation to the colonies upon a second. Nor +could I quite see why a religious teacher should go armed, or what a blind man +could be doing with a pistol. +</p> + +<p> +I told him about my guide, for I was proud of what I had done, and my vanity +for once got the heels of my prudence. At the mention of the five shillings he +cried out so loud that I made up my mind I should say nothing of the other two, +and was glad he could not see my blushes. +</p> + +<p> +“Was it too much?” I asked, a little faltering. +</p> + +<p> +“Too much!” cries he. “Why, I will guide you to Torosay myself for a dram of +brandy. And give you the great pleasure of my company (me that is a man of some +learning) in the bargain.” +</p> + +<p> +I said I did not see how a blind man could be a guide; but at that he laughed +aloud, and said his stick was eyes enough for an eagle. +</p> + +<p> +“In the Isle of Mull, at least,” says he, “where I know every stone and +heather-bush by mark of head. See, now,” he said, striking right and left, as +if to make sure, “down there a burn is running; and at the head of it there +stands a bit of a small hill with a stone cocked upon the top of that; and it’s +hard at the foot of the hill, that the way runs by to Torosay; and the way +here, being for droves, is plainly trodden, and will show grassy through the +heather.” +</p> + +<p> +I had to own he was right in every feature, and told my wonder. +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” says he, “that’s nothing. Would ye believe me now, that before the Act +came out, and when there were weepons in this country, I could shoot? Ay, could +I!” cries he, and then with a leer: “If ye had such a thing as a pistol here to +try with, I would show ye how it’s done.” +</p> + +<p> +I told him I had nothing of the sort, and gave him a wider berth. If he had +known, his pistol stuck at that time quite plainly out of his pocket, and I +could see the sun twinkle on the steel of the butt. But by the better luck for +me, he knew nothing, thought all was covered, and lied on in the dark. +</p> + +<p> +He then began to question me cunningly, where I came from, whether I was rich, +whether I could change a five-shilling piece for him (which he declared he had +that moment in his sporran), and all the time he kept edging up to me and I +avoiding him. We were now upon a sort of green cattle-track which crossed the +hills towards Torosay, and we kept changing sides upon that like dancers in a +reel. I had so plainly the upper-hand that my spirits rose, and indeed I took a +pleasure in this game of blindman’s buff; but the catechist grew angrier and +angrier, and at last began to swear in Gaelic and to strike for my legs with +his staff. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0165.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="The catechist began to +swear and to strike for my legs with his staff" /> +</div> + +<p> +Then I told him that, sure enough, I had a pistol in my pocket as well as he, +and if he did not strike across the hill due south I would even blow his brains +out. +</p> + +<p> +He became at once very polite, and after trying to soften me for some time, but +quite in vain, he cursed me once more in Gaelic and took himself off. I watched +him striding along, through bog and brier, tapping with his stick, until he +turned the end of a hill and disappeared in the next hollow. Then I struck on +again for Torosay, much better pleased to be alone than to travel with that man +of learning. This was an unlucky day; and these two, of whom I had just rid +myself, one after the other, were the two worst men I met with in the +Highlands. +</p> + +<p> +At Torosay, on the Sound of Mull and looking over to the mainland of Morven, +there was an inn with an innkeeper, who was a Maclean, it appeared, of a very +high family; for to keep an inn is thought even more genteel in the Highlands +than it is with us, perhaps as partaking of hospitality, or perhaps because the +trade is idle and drunken. He spoke good English, and finding me to be +something of a scholar, tried me first in French, where he easily beat me, and +then in the Latin, in which I don’t know which of us did best. This pleasant +rivalry put us at once upon friendly terms; and I sat up and drank punch with +him (or to be more correct, sat up and watched him drink it), until he was so +tipsy that he wept upon my shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +I tried him, as if by accident, with a sight of Alan’s button; but it was plain +he had never seen or heard of it. Indeed, he bore some grudge against the +family and friends of Ardshiel, and before he was drunk he read me a lampoon, +in very good Latin, but with a very ill meaning, which he had made in elegiac +verses upon a person of that house. +</p> + +<p> +When I told him of my catechist, he shook his head, and said I was lucky to +have got clear off. “That is a very dangerous man,” he said; “Duncan Mackiegh +is his name; he can shoot by the ear at several yards, and has been often +accused of highway robberies, and once of murder.” +</p> + +<p> +“The cream of it is,” says I, “that he called himself a catechist.” +</p> + +<p> +“And why should he not?” says he, “when that is what he is. It was Maclean of +Duart gave it to him because he was blind. But perhaps it was a peety,” says my +host, “for he is always on the road, going from one place to another to hear +the young folk say their religion; and, doubtless, that is a great temptation +to the poor man.” +</p> + +<p> +At last, when my landlord could drink no more, he showed me to a bed, and I lay +down in very good spirits; having travelled the greater part of that big and +crooked Island of Mull, from Earraid to Torosay, fifty miles as the crow flies, +and (with my wanderings) much nearer a hundred, in four days and with little +fatigue. Indeed I was by far in better heart and health of body at the end of +that long tramp than I had been at the beginning. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0169.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XVI" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0016"></a>CHAPTER XVI<br/> +THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9169.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="T" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +here is a regular ferry from Torosay to Kinlochaline on the mainland. Both +shores of the Sound are in the country of the strong clan of the Macleans, and +the people that passed the ferry with me were almost all of that clan. The +skipper of the boat, on the other hand, was called Neil Roy Macrob; and since +Macrob was one of the names of Alan’s clansmen, and Alan himself had sent me to +that ferry, I was eager to come to private speech of Neil Roy. +</p> + +<p> +In the crowded boat this was of course impossible, and the passage was a very +slow affair. There was no wind, and as the boat was wretchedly equipped, we +could pull but two oars on one side, and one on the other. The men gave way, +however, with a good will, the passengers taking spells to help them, and the +whole company giving the time in Gaelic boat-songs. And what with the songs, +and the sea-air, and the good-nature and spirit of all concerned, and the +bright weather, the passage was a pretty thing to have seen. +</p> + +<p> +But there was one melancholy part. In the mouth of Loch Aline we found a great +sea-going ship at anchor; and this I supposed at first to be one of the King’s +cruisers which were kept along that coast, both summer and winter, to prevent +communication with the French. As we got a little nearer, it became plain she +was a ship of merchandise; and what still more puzzled me, not only her decks, +but the sea-beach also, were quite black with people, and skiffs were +continually plying to and fro between them. Yet nearer, and there began to come +to our ears a great sound of mourning, the people on board and those on the +shore crying and lamenting one to another so as to pierce the heart. +</p> + +<p> +Then I understood this was an emigrant ship bound for the American colonies. +</p> + +<p> +We put the ferry-boat alongside, and the exiles leaned over the bulwarks, +weeping and reaching out their hands to my fellow-passengers, among whom they +counted some near friends. How long this might have gone on I do not know, for +they seemed to have no sense of time: but at last the captain of the ship, who +seemed near beside himself (and no great wonder) in the midst of this crying +and confusion, came to the side and begged us to depart. +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon Neil sheered off; and the chief singer in our boat struck into a +melancholy air, which was presently taken up both by the emigrants and their +friends upon the beach, so that it sounded from all sides like a lament for the +dying. I saw the tears run down the cheeks of the men and women in the boat, +even as they bent at the oars; and the circumstances and the music of the song +(which is one called “Lochaber no more”) were highly affecting even to myself. +</p> + +<p> +At Kinlochaline I got Neil Roy upon one side on the beach, and said I made sure +he was one of Appin’s men. +</p> + +<p> +“And what for no?” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“I am seeking somebody,” said I; “and it comes in my mind that you will have +news of him. Alan Breck Stewart is his name.” And very foolishly, instead of +showing him the button, I sought to pass a shilling in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +At this he drew back. “I am very much affronted,” he said; “and this is not the +way that one shentleman should behave to another at all. The man you ask for is +in France; but if he was in my sporran,” says he, “and your belly full of +shillings, I would not hurt a hair upon his body.” +</p> + +<p> +I saw I had gone the wrong way to work, and without wasting time upon +apologies, showed him the button lying in the hollow of my palm. +</p> + +<p> +“Aweel, aweel,” said Neil; “and I think ye might have begun with that end of +the stick, whatever! But if ye are the lad with the silver button, all is well, +and I have the word to see that ye come safe. But if ye will pardon me to speak +plainly,” says he, “there is a name that you should never take into your mouth, +and that is the name of Alan Breck; and there is a thing that ye would never +do, and that is to offer your dirty money to a Hieland shentleman.” +</p> + +<p> +It was not very easy to apologise; for I could scarce tell him (what was the +truth) that I had never dreamed he would set up to be a gentleman until he told +me so. Neil on his part had no wish to prolong his dealings with me, only to +fulfil his orders and be done with it; and he made haste to give me my route. +This was to lie the night in Kinlochaline in the public inn; to cross Morven +the next day to Ardgour, and lie the night in the house of one John of the +Claymore, who was warned that I might come; the third day, to be set across one +loch at Corran and another at Balachulish, and then ask my way to the house of +James of the Glens, at Aucharn in Duror of Appin. There was a good deal of +ferrying, as you hear; the sea in all this part running deep into the mountains +and winding about their roots. It makes the country strong to hold and +difficult to travel, but full of prodigious wild and dreadful prospects. +</p> + +<p> +I had some other advice from Neil: to speak with no one by the way, to avoid +Whigs, Campbells, and the “red-soldiers;” to leave the road and lie in a bush +if I saw any of the latter coming, “for it was never chancy to meet in with +them;” and in brief, to conduct myself like a robber or a Jacobite agent, as +perhaps Neil thought me. +</p> + +<p> +The inn at Kinlochaline was the most beggarly vile place that ever pigs were +styed in, full of smoke, vermin, and silent Highlanders. I was not only +discontented with my lodging, but with myself for my mismanagement of Neil, and +thought I could hardly be worse off. But very wrongly, as I was soon to see; +for I had not been half an hour at the inn (standing in the door most of the +time, to ease my eyes from the peat smoke) when a thunderstorm came close by, +the springs broke in a little hill on which the inn stood, and one end of the +house became a running water. Places of public entertainment were bad enough +all over Scotland in those days; yet it was a wonder to myself, when I had to +go from the fireside to the bed in which I slept, wading over the shoes. +</p> + +<p> +Early in my next day’s journey I overtook a little, stout, solemn man, walking +very slowly with his toes turned out, sometimes reading in a book and sometimes +marking the place with his finger, and dressed decently and plainly in +something of a clerical style. +</p> + +<p> +This I found to be another catechist, but of a different order from the blind +man of Mull: being indeed one of those sent out by the Edinburgh Society for +Propagating Christian Knowledge, to evangelise the more savage places of the +Highlands. His name was Henderland; he spoke with the broad south-country +tongue, which I was beginning to weary for the sound of; and besides common +countryship, we soon found we had a more particular bond of interest. For my +good friend, the minister of Essendean, had translated into the Gaelic in his +by-time a number of hymns and pious books which Henderland used in his work, +and held in great esteem. Indeed, it was one of these he was carrying and +reading when we met. +</p> + +<p> +We fell in company at once, our ways lying together as far as to Kingairloch. +As we went, he stopped and spoke with all the wayfarers and workers that we met +or passed; and though of course I could not tell what they discoursed about, +yet I judged Mr. Henderland must be well liked in the countryside, for I +observed many of them to bring out their mulls and share a pinch of snuff with +him. +</p> + +<p> +I told him as far in my affairs as I judged wise; as far, that is, as they were +none of Alan’s; and gave Balachulish as the place I was travelling to, to meet +a friend; for I thought Aucharn, or even Duror, would be too particular, and +might put him on the scent. +</p> + +<p> +On his part, he told me much of his work and the people he worked among, the +hiding priests and Jacobites, the Disarming Act, the dress, and many other +curiosities of the time and place. He seemed moderate; blaming Parliament in +several points, and especially because they had framed the Act more severely +against those who wore the dress than against those who carried weapons. +</p> + +<p> +This moderation put it in my mind to question him of the Red Fox and the Appin +tenants; questions which, I thought, would seem natural enough in the mouth of +one travelling to that country. +</p> + +<p> +He said it was a bad business. “It’s wonderful,” said he, “where the tenants +find the money, for their life is mere starvation. (Ye don’t carry such a thing +as snuff, do ye, Mr. Balfour? No. Well, I’m better wanting it.) But these +tenants (as I was saying) are doubtless partly driven to it. James Stewart in +Duror (that’s him they call James of the Glens) is half-brother to Ardshiel, +the captain of the clan; and he is a man much looked up to, and drives very +hard. And then there’s one they call Alan Breck—” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” I cried, “what of him?” +</p> + +<p> +“What of the wind that bloweth where it listeth?” said Henderland. “He’s here +and awa; here to-day and gone to-morrow: a fair heather-cat. He might be +glowering at the two of us out of yon whin-bush, and I wouldnae wonder! Ye’ll +no carry such a thing as snuff, will ye?” +</p> + +<p> +I told him no, and that he had asked the same thing more than once. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s highly possible,” said he, sighing. “But it seems strange ye shouldnae +carry it. However, as I was saying, this Alan Breck is a bold, desperate +customer, and well kent to be James’s right hand. His life is forfeit already; +he would boggle at naething; and maybe, if a tenant-body was to hang back he +would get a dirk in his wame.” +</p> + +<p> +“You make a poor story of it all, Mr. Henderland,” said I. “If it is all fear +upon both sides, I care to hear no more of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Na,” said Mr. Henderland, “but there’s love too, and self-denial that should +put the like of you and me to shame. There’s something fine about it; no +perhaps Christian, but humanly fine. Even Alan Breck, by all that I hear, is a +chield to be respected. There’s many a lying sneck-draw sits close in kirk in +our own part of the country, and stands well in the world’s eye, and maybe is a +far worse man, Mr. Balfour, than yon misguided shedder of man’s blood. Ay, ay, +we might take a lesson by them.—Ye’ll perhaps think I’ve been too long in the +Hielands?” he added, smiling to me. +</p> + +<p> +I told him not at all; that I had seen much to admire among the Highlanders; +and if he came to that, Mr. Campbell himself was a Highlander. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said he, “that’s true. It’s a fine blood.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what is the King’s agent about?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Colin Campbell?” says Henderland. “Putting his head in a bees’ byke!” +</p> + +<p> +“He is to turn the tenants out by force, I hear?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” says he, “but the business has gone back and forth, as folk say. First, +James of the Glens rode to Edinburgh, and got some lawyer (a Stewart, nae +doubt—they all hing together like bats in a steeple) and had the proceedings +stayed. And then Colin Campbell cam’ in again, and had the upper-hand before +the Barons of Exchequer. And now they tell me the first of the tenants are to +flit to-morrow. It’s to begin at Duror under James’s very windows, which +doesnae seem wise by my humble way of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think they’ll fight?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” says Henderland, “they’re disarmed—or supposed to be—for there’s still +a good deal of cold iron lying by in quiet places. And then Colin Campbell has +the sogers coming. But for all that, if I was his lady wife, I wouldnae be well +pleased till I got him home again. They’re queer customers, the Appin +Stewarts.” +</p> + +<p> +I asked if they were worse than their neighbours. +</p> + +<p> +“No they,” said he. “And that’s the worst part of it. For if Colin Roy can get +his business done in Appin, he has it all to begin again in the next country, +which they call Mamore, and which is one of the countries of the Camerons. He’s +King’s Factor upon both, and from both he has to drive out the tenants; and +indeed, Mr. Balfour (to be open with ye), it’s my belief that if he escapes the +one lot, he’ll get his death by the other.” +</p> + +<p> +So we continued talking and walking the great part of the day; until at last, +Mr. Henderland after expressing his delight in my company, and satisfaction at +meeting with a friend of Mr. Campbell’s (“whom,” says he, “I will make bold to +call that sweet singer of our covenanted Zion”), proposed that I should make a +short stage, and lie the night in his house a little beyond Kingairloch. To say +truth, I was overjoyed; for I had no great desire for John of the Claymore, and +since my double misadventure, first with the guide and next with the gentleman +skipper, I stood in some fear of any Highland stranger. Accordingly we shook +hands upon the bargain, and came in the afternoon to a small house, standing +alone by the shore of the Linnhe Loch. The sun was already gone from the desert +mountains of Ardgour upon the hither side, but shone on those of Appin on the +farther; the loch lay as still as a lake, only the gulls were crying round the +sides of it; and the whole place seemed solemn and uncouth. +</p> + +<p> +We had no sooner come to the door of Mr. Henderland’s dwelling, than to my +great surprise (for I was now used to the politeness of Highlanders) he burst +rudely past me, dashed into the room, caught up a jar and a small horn-spoon, +and began ladling snuff into his nose in most excessive quantities. Then he had +a hearty fit of sneezing, and looked round upon me with a rather silly smile. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0175.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="He began ladling snuff +into his nose in most excessive quantities" /> +</div> + +<p> +“It’s a vow I took,” says he. “I took a vow upon me that I wouldnae carry it. +Doubtless it’s a great privation; but when I think upon the martyrs, not only +to the Scottish Covenant but to other points of Christianity, I think shame to +mind it.” +</p> + +<p> +As soon as we had eaten (and porridge and whey was the best of the good man’s +diet) he took a grave face and said he had a duty to perform by Mr. Campbell, +and that was to inquire into my state of mind towards God. I was inclined to +smile at him since the business of the snuff; but he had not spoken long before +he brought the tears into my eyes. There are two things that men should never +weary of, goodness and humility; we get none too much of them in this rough +world among cold, proud people; but Mr. Henderland had their very speech upon +his tongue. And though I was a good deal puffed up with my adventures and with +having come off, as the saying is, with flying colours; yet he soon had me on +my knees beside a simple, poor old man, and both proud and glad to be there. +</p> + +<p> +Before we went to bed he offered me sixpence to help me on my way, out of a +scanty store he kept in the turf wall of his house; at which excess of goodness +I knew not what to do. But at last he was so earnest with me that I thought it +the more mannerly part to let him have his way, and so left him poorer than +myself. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0179.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XVII" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0017"></a>CHAPTER XVII<br/> +THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9179.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="T" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +he next day Mr. Henderland found for me a man who had a boat of his own and was +to cross the Linnhe Loch that afternoon into Appin, fishing. Him he prevailed +on to take me, for he was one of his flock; and in this way I saved a long +day’s travel and the price of the two public ferries I must otherwise have +passed. +</p> + +<p> +It was near noon before we set out; a dark day with clouds, and the sun shining +upon little patches. The sea was here very deep and still, and had scarce a +wave upon it; so that I must put the water to my lips before I could believe it +to be truly salt. The mountains on either side were high, rough and barren, +very black and gloomy in the shadow of the clouds, but all silver-laced with +little watercourses where the sun shone upon them. It seemed a hard country, +this of Appin, for people to care as much about as Alan did. +</p> + +<p> +There was but one thing to mention. A little after we had started, the sun +shone upon a little moving clump of scarlet close in along the water-side to +the north. It was much of the same red as soldiers’ coats; every now and then, +too, there came little sparks and lightnings, as though the sun had struck upon +bright steel. +</p> + +<p> +I asked my boatman what it should be, and he answered he supposed it was some +of the red soldiers coming from Fort William into Appin, against the poor +tenantry of the country. Well, it was a sad sight to me; and whether it was +because of my thoughts of Alan, or from something prophetic in my bosom, +although this was but the second time I had seen King George’s troops, I had no +good will to them. +</p> + +<p> +At last we came so near the point of land at the entering in of Loch Leven that +I begged to be set on shore. My boatman (who was an honest fellow and mindful +of his promise to the catechist) would fain have carried me on to Balachulish; +but as this was to take me farther from my secret destination, I insisted, and +was set on shore at last under the wood of Lettermore (or Lettervore, for I +have heard it both ways) in Alan’s country of Appin. +</p> + +<p> +This was a wood of birches, growing on a steep, craggy side of a mountain that +overhung the loch. It had many openings and ferny howes; and a road or bridle +track ran north and south through the midst of it, by the edge of which, where +was a spring, I sat down to eat some oat-bread of Mr. Henderland’s and think +upon my situation. +</p> + +<p> +Here I was not only troubled by a cloud of stinging midges, but far more by the +doubts of my mind. What I ought to do, why I was going to join myself with an +outlaw and a would-be murderer like Alan, whether I should not be acting more +like a man of sense to tramp back to the south country direct, by my own +guidance and at my own charges, and what Mr. Campbell or even Mr. Henderland +would think of me if they should ever learn my folly and presumption: these +were the doubts that now began to come in on me stronger than ever. +</p> + +<p> +As I was so sitting and thinking, a sound of men and horses came to me through +the wood; and presently after, at a turning of the road, I saw four travellers +come into view. The way was in this part so rough and narrow that they came +single and led their horses by the reins. The first was a great, red-headed +gentleman, of an imperious and flushed face, who carried his hat in his hand +and fanned himself, for he was in a breathing heat. The second, by his decent +black garb and white wig, I correctly took to be a lawyer. The third was a +servant, and wore some part of his clothes in tartan, which showed that his +master was of a Highland family, and either an outlaw or else in singular good +odour with the Government, since the wearing of tartan was against the Act. If +I had been better versed in these things, I would have known the tartan to be +of the Argyle (or Campbell) colours. This servant had a good-sized portmanteau +strapped on his horse, and a net of lemons (to brew punch with) hanging at the +saddle-bow; as was often enough the custom with luxurious travellers in that +part of the country. +</p> + +<p> +As for the fourth, who brought up the tail, I had seen his like before, and +knew him at once to be a sheriff’s officer. +</p> + +<p> +I had no sooner seen these people coming than I made up my mind (for no reason +that I can tell) to go through with my adventure; and when the first came +alongside of me, I rose up from the bracken and asked him the way to Aucharn. +</p> + +<p> +He stopped and looked at me, as I thought, a little oddly; and then, turning to +the lawyer, “Mungo,” said he, “there’s many a man would think this more of a +warning than two pyats. Here am I on my road to Duror on the job ye ken; and +here is a young lad starts up out of the bracken, and speers if I am on the way +to Aucharn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenure,” said the other, “this is an ill subject for jesting.” +</p> + +<p> +These two had now drawn close up and were gazing at me, while the two followers +had halted about a stone-cast in the rear. +</p> + +<p> +“And what seek ye in Aucharn?” said Colin Roy Campbell of Glenure, him they +called the Red Fox; for he it was that I had stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“The man that lives there,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“James of the Glens,” says Glenure, musingly; and then to the lawyer: “Is he +gathering his people, think ye?” +</p> + +<p> +“Anyway,” says the lawyer, “we shall do better to bide where we are, and let +the soldiers rally us.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you are concerned for me,” said I, “I am neither of his people nor yours, +but an honest subject of King George, owing no man and fearing no man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, very well said,” replies the Factor. “But if I may make so bold as ask, +what does this honest man so far from his country? and why does he come seeking +the brother of Ardshiel? I have power here, I must tell you. I am King’s Factor +upon several of these estates, and have twelve files of soldiers at my back.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have heard a waif word in the country,” said I, a little nettled, “that you +were a hard man to drive.” +</p> + +<p> +He still kept looking at me, as if in doubt. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said he, at last, “your tongue is bold; but I am no unfriend to +plainness. If ye had asked me the way to the door of James Stewart on any other +day but this, I would have set ye right and bidden ye God speed. But to-day—eh, +Mungo?” And he turned again to look at the lawyer. +</p> + +<p> +But just as he turned there came the shot of a firelock from higher up the +hill; and with the very sound of it Glenure fell upon the road. +</p> + +<p> +“O, I am dead!” he cried, several times over. +</p> + +<p> +The lawyer had caught him up and held him in his arms, the servant standing +over and clasping his hands. And now the wounded man looked from one to another +with scared eyes, and there was a change in his voice, that went to the heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Take care of yourselves,” says he. “I am dead.” +</p> + +<p> +He tried to open his clothes as if to look for the wound, but his fingers +slipped on the buttons. With that he gave a great sigh, his head rolled on his +shoulder, and he passed away. +</p> + +<p> +The lawyer said never a word, but his face was as sharp as a pen and as white +as the dead man’s; the servant broke out into a great noise of crying and +weeping, like a child; and I, on my side, stood staring at them in a kind of +horror. The sheriff’s officer had run back at the first sound of the shot, to +hasten the coming of the soldiers. +</p> + +<p> +At last the lawyer laid down the dead man in his blood upon the road, and got +to his own feet with a kind of stagger. +</p> + +<p> +I believe it was his movement that brought me to my senses; for he had no +sooner done so than I began to scramble up the hill, crying out, “The murderer! +the murderer!” +</p> + +<p> +So little a time had elapsed, that when I got to the top of the first +steepness, and could see some part of the open mountain, the murderer was still +moving away at no great distance. He was a big man, in a black coat, with metal +buttons, and carried a long fowling-piece. +</p> + +<p> +“Here!” I cried. “I see him!” +</p> + +<p> +At that the murderer gave a little, quick look over his shoulder, and began to +run. The next moment he was lost in a fringe of birches; then he came out again +on the upper side, where I could see him climbing like a jackanapes, for that +part was again very steep; and then he dipped behind a shoulder, and I saw him +no more. +</p> + +<p> +All this time I had been running on my side, and had got a good way up, when a +voice cried upon me to stand. +</p> + +<p> +I was at the edge of the upper wood, and so now, when I halted and looked back, +I saw all the open part of the hill below me. +</p> + +<p> +The lawyer and the sheriff’s officer were standing just above the road, crying +and waving on me to come back; and on their left, the red-coats, musket in +hand, were beginning to struggle singly out of the lower wood. +</p> + +<p> +“Why should I come back?” I cried. “Come you on!” +</p> + +<p> +“Ten pounds if ye take that lad!” cried the lawyer. “He’s an accomplice. He was +posted here to hold us in talk.” +</p> + +<p> +At that word (which I could hear quite plainly, though it was to the soldiers +and not to me that he was crying it) my heart came in my mouth with quite a new +kind of terror. Indeed, it is one thing to stand the danger of your life, and +quite another to run the peril of both life and character. The thing, besides, +had come so suddenly, like thunder out of a clear sky, that I was all amazed +and helpless. +</p> + +<p> +The soldiers began to spread, some of them to run, and others to put up their +pieces and cover me; and still I stood. +</p> + +<p> +“Jouk<a href="#fn18" name="fnref18"><sup>[18]</sup></a> in here among the +trees,” said a voice close by. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn18"></a> <a href="#fnref18">[18]</a> +Duck. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0185.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Jouk in here among the +trees, said a voice close by" /> +</div> + +<p> +Indeed, I scarce knew what I was doing, but I obeyed; and as I did so, I heard +the firelocks bang and the balls whistle in the birches. +</p> + +<p> +Just inside the shelter of the trees I found Alan Breck standing, with a +fishing-rod. He gave me no salutation; indeed it was no time for civilities; +only “Come!” says he, and set off running along the side of the mountain +towards Balachulish; and I, like a sheep, to follow him. +</p> + +<p> +Now we ran among the birches; now stooping behind low humps upon the +mountain-side; now crawling on all fours among the heather. The pace was +deadly: my heart seemed bursting against my ribs; and I had neither time to +think nor breath to speak with. Only I remember seeing with wonder, that Alan +every now and then would straighten himself to his full height and look back; +and every time he did so, there came a great far-away cheering and crying of +the soldiers. +</p> + +<p> +Quarter of an hour later, Alan stopped, clapped down flat in the heather, and +turned to me. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said he, “it’s earnest. Do as I do, for your life.” +</p> + +<p> +And at the same speed, but now with infinitely more precaution, we traced back +again across the mountain-side by the same way that we had come, only perhaps +higher; till at last Alan threw himself down in the upper wood of Lettermore, +where I had found him at the first, and lay, with his face in the bracken, +panting like a dog. +</p> + +<p> +My own sides so ached, my head so swam, my tongue so hung out of my mouth with +heat and dryness, that I lay beside him like one dead. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0188.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XVIII" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0018"></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br/> +I TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9188.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="A" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +lan was the first to come round. He rose, went to the border of the wood, +peered out a little, and then returned and sat down. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said he, “yon was a hot burst, David.” +</p> + +<p> +I said nothing, nor so much as lifted my face. I had seen murder done, and a +great, ruddy, jovial gentleman struck out of life in a moment; the pity of that +sight was still sore within me, and yet that was but a part of my concern. Here +was murder done upon the man Alan hated; here was Alan skulking in the trees +and running from the troops; and whether his was the hand that fired or only +the head that ordered, signified but little. By my way of it, my only friend in +that wild country was blood-guilty in the first degree; I held him in horror; I +could not look upon his face; I would have rather lain alone in the rain on my +cold isle, than in that warm wood beside a murderer. +</p> + +<p> +“Are ye still wearied?” he asked again. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said I, still with my face in the bracken; “no, I am not wearied now, and +I can speak. You and me must twine,”<a href="#fn19" +name="fnref19"><sup>[19]</sup></a> I said. “I liked you very well, Alan, but +your ways are not mine, and they’re not God’s: and the short and the long of it +is just that we must twine.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn19"></a> <a href="#fnref19">[19]</a> +Part. +</p> + +<p> +“I will hardly twine from ye, David, without some kind of reason for the same,” +said Alan, mighty gravely. “If ye ken anything against my reputation, it’s the +least thing that ye should do, for old acquaintance’ sake, to let me hear the +name of it; and if ye have only taken a distaste to my society, it will be +proper for me to judge if I’m insulted.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alan,” said I, “what is the sense of this? Ye ken very well yon Campbell-man +lies in his blood upon the road.” +</p> + +<p> +He was silent for a little; then says he, “Did ever ye hear tell of the story +of the Man and the Good People?”—by which he meant the fairies. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said I, “nor do I want to hear it.” +</p> + +<p> +“With your permission, Mr. Balfour, I will tell it you, whatever,” says Alan. +“The man, ye should ken, was cast upon a rock in the sea, where it appears the +Good People were in use to come and rest as they went through to Ireland. The +name of this rock is called the Skerryvore, and it’s not far from where we +suffered ship-wreck. Well, it seems the man cried so sore, if he could just see +his little bairn before he died! that at last the king of the Good People took +peety upon him, and sent one flying that brought back the bairn in a poke<a +href="#fn20" name="fnref20"><sup>[20]</sup></a> and laid it down beside the man +where he lay sleeping. So when the man woke, there was a poke beside him and +something into the inside of it that moved. Well, it seems he was one of these +gentry that think aye the worst of things; and for greater security, he stuck +his dirk throughout that poke before he opened it, and there was his bairn +dead. I am thinking to myself, Mr. Balfour, that you and the man are very much +alike.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn20"></a> <a href="#fnref20">[20]</a> +Bag. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean you had no hand in it?” cried I, sitting up. +</p> + +<p> +“I will tell you first of all, Mr. Balfour of Shaws, as one friend to another,” +said Alan, “that if I were going to kill a gentleman, it would not be in my own +country, to bring trouble on my clan; and I would not go wanting sword and gun, +and with a long fishing-rod upon my back.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said I, “that’s true!” +</p> + +<p> +“And now,” continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying his hand upon it in a +certain manner, “I swear upon the Holy Iron I had neither art nor part, act nor +thought in it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank God for that!” cried I, and offered him my hand. +</p> + +<p> +He did not appear to see it. +</p> + +<p> +“And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell!” said he. “They are not so +scarce, that I ken!” +</p> + +<p> +“At least,” said I, “you cannot justly blame me, for you know very well what +you told me in the brig. But the temptation and the act are different, I thank +God again for that. We may all be tempted; but to take a life in cold blood, +Alan!” And I could say no more for the moment. “And do you know who did it?” I +added. “Do you know that man in the black coat?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have nae clear mind about his coat,” said Alan cunningly, “but it sticks in +my head that it was blue.” +</p> + +<p> +“Blue or black, did ye know him?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“I couldnae just conscientiously swear to him,” says Alan. “He gaed very close +by me, to be sure, but it’s a strange thing that I should just have been tying +my brogues.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you swear that you don’t know him, Alan?” I cried, half angered, half in a +mind to laugh at his evasions. +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet,” says he; “but I’ve a grand memory for forgetting, David.” +</p> + +<p> +“And yet there was one thing I saw clearly,” said I; “and that was, that you +exposed yourself and me to draw the soldiers.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s very likely,” said Alan; “and so would any gentleman. You and me were +innocent of that transaction.” +</p> + +<p> +“The better reason, since we were falsely suspected, that we should get clear,” +I cried. “The innocent should surely come before the guilty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, David,” said he, “the innocent have aye a chance to get assoiled in +court; but for the lad that shot the bullet, I think the best place for him +will be the heather. Them that havenae dipped their hands in any little +difficulty, should be very mindful of the case of them that have. And that is +the good Christianity. For if it was the other way round about, and the lad +whom I couldnae just clearly see had been in our shoes, and we in his (as might +very well have been), I think we would be a good deal obliged to him oursel’s +if he would draw the soldiers.” +</p> + +<p> +When it came to this, I gave Alan up. But he looked so innocent all the time, +and was in such clear good faith in what he said, and so ready to sacrifice +himself for what he deemed his duty, that my mouth was closed. Mr. Henderland’s +words came back to me: that we ourselves might take a lesson by these wild +Highlanders. Well, here I had taken mine. Alan’s morals were all tail-first; +but he was ready to give his life for them, such as they were. +</p> + +<p> +“Alan,” said I, “I’ll not say it’s the good Christianity as I understand it, +but it’s good enough. And here I offer ye my hand for the second time.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon he gave me both of his, saying surely I had cast a spell upon him, +for he could forgive me anything. Then he grew very grave, and said we had not +much time to throw away, but must both flee that country: he, because he was a +deserter, and the whole of Appin would now be searched like a chamber, and +every one obliged to give a good account of himself; and I, because I was +certainly involved in the murder. +</p> + +<p> +“O!” says I, willing to give him a little lesson, “I have no fear of the +justice of my country.” +</p> + +<p> +“As if this was your country!” said he. “Or as if ye would be tried here, in a +country of Stewarts!” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all Scotland,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Man, I whiles wonder at ye,” said Alan. “This is a Campbell that’s been +killed. Well, it’ll be tried in Inverara, the Campbells’ head place; with +fifteen Campbells in the jury-box and the biggest Campbell of all (and that’s +the Duke) sitting cocking on the bench. Justice, David? The same justice, by +all the world, as Glenure found awhile ago at the roadside.” +</p> + +<p> +This frightened me a little, I confess, and would have frightened me more if I +had known how nearly exact were Alan’s predictions; indeed it was but in one +point that he exaggerated, there being but eleven Campbells on the jury; though +as the other four were equally in the Duke’s dependence, it mattered less than +might appear. Still, I cried out that he was unjust to the Duke of Argyle, who +(for all he was a Whig) was yet a wise and honest nobleman. +</p> + +<p> +“Hoot!” said Alan, “the man’s a Whig, nae doubt; but I would never deny he was +a good chieftain to his clan. And what would the clan think if there was a +Campbell shot, and naebody hanged, and their own chief the Justice General? But +I have often observed,” says Alan, “that you Low-country bodies have no clear +idea of what’s right and wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +At this I did at last laugh out aloud, when to my surprise, Alan joined in, and +laughed as merrily as myself. +</p> + +<p> +“Na, na,” said he, “we’re in the Hielands, David; and when I tell ye to run, +take my word and run. Nae doubt it’s a hard thing to skulk and starve in the +Heather, but it’s harder yet to lie shackled in a red-coat prison.” +</p> + +<p> +I asked him whither we should flee; and as he told me “to the Lowlands,” I was +a little better inclined to go with him; for, indeed, I was growing impatient +to get back and have the upper-hand of my uncle. Besides, Alan made so sure +there would be no question of justice in the matter, that I began to be afraid +he might be right. Of all deaths, I would truly like least to die by the +gallows; and the picture of that uncanny instrument came into my head with +extraordinary clearness (as I had once seen it engraved at the top of a +pedlar’s ballad) and took away my appetite for courts of justice. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll chance it, Alan,” said I. “I’ll go with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“But mind you,” said Alan, “it’s no small thing. Ye maun lie bare and hard, and +brook many an empty belly. Your bed shall be the moorcock’s, and your life +shall be like the hunted deer’s, and ye shall sleep with your hand upon your +weapons. Ay, man, ye shall taigle many a weary foot, or we get clear! I tell ye +this at the start, for it’s a life that I ken well. But if ye ask what other +chance ye have, I answer: Nane. Either take to the heather with me, or else +hang.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that’s a choice very easily made,” said I; and we shook hands upon it. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0193.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="And now let's take another +peep at the redcoats" /> +</div> + +<p> +“And now let’s take another peek at the red-coats,” says Alan, and he led me to +the north-eastern fringe of the wood. +</p> + +<p> +Looking out between the trees, we could see a great side of mountain, running +down exceeding steep into the waters of the loch. It was a rough part, all +hanging stone, and heather, and big scrogs of birchwood; and away at the far +end towards Balachulish, little wee red soldiers were dipping up and down over +hill and howe, and growing smaller every minute. There was no cheering now, for +I think they had other uses for what breath was left them; but they still stuck +to the trail, and doubtless thought that we were close in front of them. +</p> + +<p> +Alan watched them, smiling to himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said he, “they’ll be gey weary before they’ve got to the end of that +employ! And so you and me, David, can sit down and eat a bite, and breathe a +bit longer, and take a dram from my bottle. Then we’ll strike for Aucharn, the +house of my kinsman, James of the Glens, where I must get my clothes, and my +arms, and money to carry us along; and then, David, we’ll cry, ‘Forth, +Fortune!’ and take a cast among the heather.” +</p> + +<p> +So we sat again and ate and drank, in a place whence we could see the sun going +down into a field of great, wild, and houseless mountains, such as I was now +condemned to wander in with my companion. Partly as we so sat, and partly +afterwards, on the way to Aucharn, each of us narrated his adventures; and I +shall here set down so much of Alan’s as seems either curious or needful. +</p> + +<p> +It appears he ran to the bulwarks as soon as the wave was passed; saw me, and +lost me, and saw me again, as I tumbled in the roost; and at last had one +glimpse of me clinging on the yard. It was this that put him in some hope I +would maybe get to land after all, and made him leave those clues and messages +which had brought me (for my sins) to that unlucky country of Appin. +</p> + +<p> +In the meanwhile, those still on the brig had got the skiff launched, and one +or two were on board of her already, when there came a second wave greater than +the first, and heaved the brig out of her place, and would certainly have sent +her to the bottom, had she not struck and caught on some projection of the +reef. When she had struck first, it had been bows-on, so that the stern had +hitherto been lowest. But now her stern was thrown in the air, and the bows +plunged under the sea; and with that, the water began to pour into the +fore-scuttle like the pouring of a mill-dam. +</p> + +<p> +It took the colour out of Alan’s face, even to tell what followed. For there +were still two men lying impotent in their bunks; and these, seeing the water +pour in and thinking the ship had foundered, began to cry out aloud, and that +with such harrowing cries that all who were on deck tumbled one after another +into the skiff and fell to their oars. They were not two hundred yards away, +when there came a third great sea; and at that the brig lifted clean over the +reef; her canvas filled for a moment, and she seemed to sail in chase of them, +but settling all the while; and presently she drew down and down, as if a hand +was drawing her; and the sea closed over the <i>Covenant</i> of Dysart. +</p> + +<p> +Never a word they spoke as they pulled ashore, being stunned with the horror of +that screaming; but they had scarce set foot upon the beach when Hoseason woke +up, as if out of a muse, and bade them lay hands upon Alan. They hung back +indeed, having little taste for the employment; but Hoseason was like a fiend, +crying that Alan was alone, that he had a great sum about him, that he had been +the means of losing the brig and drowning all their comrades, and that here was +both revenge and wealth upon a single cast. It was seven against one; in that +part of the shore there was no rock that Alan could set his back to; and the +sailors began to spread out and come behind him. +</p> + +<p> +“And then,” said Alan, “the little man with the red head—I havenae mind of the +name that he is called.” +</p> + +<p> +“Riach,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay” said Alan, “Riach! Well, it was him that took up the clubs for me, asked +the men if they werenae feared of a judgment, and, says he ‘Dod, I’ll put my +back to the Hielandman’s mysel’.’ That’s none such an entirely bad little man, +yon little man with the red head,” said Alan. “He has some spunks of decency.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said I, “he was kind to me in his way.” +</p> + +<p> +“And so he was to Alan,” said he; “and by my troth, I found his way a very good +one! But ye see, David, the loss of the ship and the cries of these poor lads +sat very ill upon the man; and I’m thinking that would be the cause of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I would think so,” says I; “for he was as keen as any of the rest at the +beginning. But how did Hoseason take it?” +</p> + +<p> +“It sticks in my mind that he would take it very ill,” says Alan. “But the +little man cried to me to run, and indeed I thought it was a good observe, and +ran. The last that I saw they were all in a knot upon the beach, like folk that +were not agreeing very well together.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean by that?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, the fists were going,” said Alan; “and I saw one man go down like a pair +of breeks. But I thought it would be better no to wait. Ye see there’s a strip +of Campbells in that end of Mull, which is no good company for a gentleman like +me. If it hadnae been for that I would have waited and looked for ye mysel’, +let alone giving a hand to the little man.” (It was droll how Alan dwelt on Mr. +Riach’s stature, for, to say the truth, the one was not much smaller than the +other.) “So,” says he, continuing, “I set my best foot forward, and whenever I +met in with any one I cried out there was a wreck ashore. Man, they didnae stop +to fash with me! Ye should have seen them linking for the beach! And when they +got there they found they had had the pleasure of a run, which is aye good for +a Campbell. I’m thinking it was a judgment on the clan that the brig went down +in the lump and didnae break. But it was a very unlucky thing for you, that +same; for if any wreck had come ashore they would have hunted high and low, and +would soon have found ye.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0199.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XIX" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0019"></a>CHAPTER XIX<br/> +THE HOUSE OF FEAR</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9199.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="N" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +ight fell as we were walking, and the clouds, which had broken up in the +afternoon, settled in and thickened, so that it fell, for the season of the +year, extremely dark. The way we went was over rough mountainsides; and though +Alan pushed on with an assured manner, I could by no means see how he directed +himself. +</p> + +<p> +At last, about half-past ten of the clock, we came to the top of a brae, and +saw lights below us. It seemed a house door stood open and let out a beam of +fire and candle-light; and all round the house and steading five or six persons +were moving hurriedly about, each carrying a lighted brand. +</p> + +<p> +“James must have tint his wits,” said Alan. “If this was the soldiers instead +of you and me, he would be in a bonny mess. But I dare say he’ll have a sentry +on the road, and he would ken well enough no soldiers would find the way that +we came.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0201.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="He whistled three times, +in a particular manner" /> +</div> + +<p> +Hereupon he whistled three times, in a particular manner. It was strange to see +how, at the first sound of it, all the moving torches came to a stand, as if +the bearers were affrighted; and how, at the third, the bustle began again as +before. +</p> + +<p> +Having thus set folks’ minds at rest, we came down the brae, and were met at +the yard gate (for this place was like a well-doing farm) by a tall, handsome +man of more than fifty, who cried out to Alan in the Gaelic. +</p> + +<p> +“James Stewart,” said Alan, “I will ask ye to speak in Scotch, for here is a +young gentleman with me that has nane of the other. This is him,” he added, +putting his arm through mine, “a young gentleman of the Lowlands, and a laird +in his country too, but I am thinking it will be the better for his health if +we give his name the go-by.” +</p> + +<p> +James of the Glens turned to me for a moment, and greeted me courteously +enough; the next he had turned to Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“This has been a dreadful accident,” he cried. “It will bring trouble on the +country.” And he wrung his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Hoots!” said Alan, “ye must take the sour with the sweet, man. Colin Roy is +dead, and be thankful for that!” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay” said James, “and by my troth, I wish he was alive again! It’s all very +fine to blow and boast beforehand; but now it’s done, Alan; and who’s to bear +the wyte<a href="#fn21" name="fnref21"><sup>[21]</sup></a> of it? The accident +fell out in Appin—mind ye that, Alan; it’s Appin that must pay; and I am a man +that has a family.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn21"></a> <a href="#fnref21">[21]</a> +Blame. +</p> + +<p> +While this was going on I looked about me at the servants. Some were on +ladders, digging in the thatch of the house or the farm buildings, from which +they brought out guns, swords, and different weapons of war; others carried +them away; and by the sound of mattock blows from somewhere farther down the +brae, I suppose they buried them. Though they were all so busy, there prevailed +no kind of order in their efforts; men struggled together for the same gun and +ran into each other with their burning torches; and James was continually +turning about from his talk with Alan, to cry out orders which were apparently +never understood. The faces in the torchlight were like those of people +overborne with hurry and panic; and though none spoke above his breath, their +speech sounded both anxious and angry. +</p> + +<p> +It was about this time that a lassie came out of the house carrying a pack or +bundle; and it has often made me smile to think how Alan’s instinct awoke at +the mere sight of it. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that the lassie has?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re just setting the house in order, Alan,” said James, in his frightened +and somewhat fawning way. “They’ll search Appin with candles, and we must have +all things straight. We’re digging the bit guns and swords into the moss, ye +see; and these, I am thinking, will be your ain French clothes. We’ll be to +bury them, I believe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bury my French clothes!” cried Alan. “Troth, no!” And he laid hold upon the +packet and retired into the barn to shift himself, recommending me in the +meanwhile to his kinsman. +</p> + +<p> +James carried me accordingly into the kitchen, and sat down with me at table, +smiling and talking at first in a very hospitable manner. But presently the +gloom returned upon him; he sat frowning and biting his fingers; only +remembered me from time to time; and then gave me but a word or two and a poor +smile, and back into his private terrors. His wife sat by the fire and wept, +with her face in her hands; his eldest son was crouched upon the floor, running +over a great mass of papers and now and again setting one alight and burning it +to the bitter end; all the while a servant lass with a red face was rummaging +about the room, in a blind hurry of fear, and whimpering as she went; and every +now and again one of the men would thrust in his face from the yard, and cry +for orders. +</p> + +<p> +At last James could keep his seat no longer, and begged my permission to be so +unmannerly as walk about. “I am but poor company altogether, sir,” says he, +“but I can think of nothing but this dreadful accident, and the trouble it is +like to bring upon quite innocent persons.” +</p> + +<p> +A little after he observed his son burning a paper which he thought should have +been kept; and at that his excitement burst out so that it was painful to +witness. He struck the lad repeatedly. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you gone gyte?”<a href="#fn22" name="fnref22"><sup>[22]</sup></a> he +cried. “Do you wish to hang your father?” and forgetful of my presence, carried +on at him a long time together in the Gaelic, the young man answering nothing; +only the wife, at the name of hanging, throwing her apron over her face and +sobbing out louder than before. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn22"></a> <a href="#fnref22">[22]</a> +Mad. +</p> + +<p> +This was all wretched for a stranger like myself to hear and see; and I was +right glad when Alan returned, looking like himself in his fine French clothes, +though (to be sure) they were now grown almost too battered and withered to +deserve the name of fine. I was then taken out in my turn by another of the +sons, and given that change of clothing of which I had stood so long in need, +and a pair of Highland brogues made of deer-leather, rather strange at first, +but after a little practice very easy to the feet. +</p> + +<p> +By the time I came back Alan must have told his story; for it seemed understood +that I was to fly with him, and they were all busy upon our equipment. They +gave us each a sword and pistols, though I professed my inability to use the +former; and with these, and some ammunition, a bag of oatmeal, an iron pan, and +a bottle of right French brandy, we were ready for the heather. Money, indeed, +was lacking. I had about two guineas left; Alan’s belt having been despatched +by another hand, that trusty messenger had no more than seventeen-pence to his +whole fortune; and as for James, it appears he had brought himself so low with +journeys to Edinburgh and legal expenses on behalf of the tenants, that he +could only scrape together three-and-five-pence-halfpenny, the most of it in +coppers. +</p> + +<p> +“This’ll no do,” said Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye must find a safe bit somewhere near by,” said James, “and get word sent to +me. Ye see, ye’ll have to get this business prettily off, Alan. This is no time +to be stayed for a guinea or two. They’re sure to get wind of ye, sure to seek +ye, and by my way of it, sure to lay on ye the wyte of this day’s accident. If +it falls on you, it falls on me that am your near kinsman and harboured ye +while ye were in the country. And if it comes on me——” he paused, and bit his +fingers, with a white face. “It would be a painful thing for our friends if I +was to hang,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“It would be an ill day for Appin,” says Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a day that sticks in my throat,” said James. “O man, man, man—man Alan! +you and me have spoken like two fools!” he cried, striking his hand upon the +wall so that the house rang again. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, and that’s true, too,” said Alan; “and my friend from the Lowlands here” +(nodding at me) “gave me a good word upon that head, if I would only have +listened to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“But see here,” said James, returning to his former manner, “if they lay me by +the heels, Alan, it’s then that you’ll be needing the money. For with all that +I have said and that you have said, it will look very black against the two of +us; do ye mark that? Well, follow me out, and ye’ll, I’ll see that I’ll have to +get a paper out against ye mysel’; have to offer a reward for ye; ay, will I! +It’s a sore thing to do between such near friends; but if I get the dirdum<a +href="#fn23" name="fnref23"><sup>[23]</sup></a> of this dreadful accident, I’ll +have to fend for myself, man. Do ye see that?” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn23"></a> <a href="#fnref23">[23]</a> +Blame. +</p> + +<p> +He spoke with a pleading earnestness, taking Alan by the breast of the coat. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay” said Alan, “I see that.” +</p> + +<p> +“And ye’ll have to be clear of the country, Alan—ay, and clear of Scotland—you +and your friend from the Lowlands, too. For I’ll have to paper your friend from +the Lowlands. Ye see that, Alan—say that ye see that!” +</p> + +<p> +I thought Alan flushed a bit. “This is unco hard on me that brought him here, +James,” said he, throwing his head back. “It’s like making me a traitor!” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Alan, man!” cried James. “Look things in the face! He’ll be papered +anyway; Mungo Campbell’ll be sure to paper him; what matters if I paper him +too? And then, Alan, I am a man that has a family.” And then, after a little +pause on both sides, “And, Alan, it’ll be a jury of Campbells,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s one thing,” said Alan, musingly, “that naebody kens his name.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nor yet they shallnae, Alan! There’s my hand on that,” cried James, for all +the world as if he had really known my name and was foregoing some advantage. +“But just the habit he was in, and what he looked like, and his age, and the +like? I couldnae well do less.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder at your father’s son,” cried Alan, sternly. “Would ye sell the lad +with a gift? Would ye change his clothes and then betray him?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, Alan,” said James. “No, no: the habit he took off—the habit Mungo saw +him in.” But I thought he seemed crestfallen; indeed, he was clutching at every +straw, and all the time, I dare say, saw the faces of his hereditary foes on +the bench, and in the jury-box, and the gallows in the background. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” says Alan, turning to me, “what say ye to that? Ye are here under +the safeguard of my honour; and it’s my part to see nothing done but what shall +please you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have but one word to say,” said I; “for to all this dispute I am a perfect +stranger. But the plain common-sense is to set the blame where it belongs, and +that is on the man who fired the shot. Paper him, as ye call it, set the hunt +on him; and let honest, innocent folk show their faces in safety.” But at this +both Alan and James cried out in horror; bidding me hold my tongue, for that +was not to be thought of; and asking me what the Camerons would think? (which +confirmed me, it must have been a Cameron from Mamore that did the act) and if +I did not see that the lad might be caught? “Ye havenae surely thought of +that?” said they, with such innocent earnestness, that my hands dropped at my +side and I despaired of argument. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, then,” said I, “paper me, if you please, paper Alan, paper King +George! We’re all three innocent, and that seems to be what’s wanted. But at +least, sir,” said I to James, recovering from my little fit of annoyance, “I am +Alan’s friend, and if I can be helpful to friends of his, I will not stumble at +the risk.” +</p> + +<p> +I thought it best to put a fair face on my consent, for I saw Alan troubled; +and, besides (thinks I to myself), as soon as my back is turned, they will +paper me, as they call it, whether I consent or not. But in this I saw I was +wrong; for I had no sooner said the words, than Mrs. Stewart leaped out of her +chair, came running over to us, and wept first upon my neck and then on Alan’s, +blessing God for our goodness to her family. +</p> + +<p> +“As for you, Alan, it was no more than your bounden duty,” she said. “But for +this lad that has come here and seen us at our worst, and seen the goodman +fleeching like a suitor, him that by rights should give his commands like any +king—as for you, my lad,” she says, “my heart is wae not to have your name, but +I have your face; and as long as my heart beats under my bosom, I will keep it, +and think of it, and bless it.” And with that she kissed me, and burst once +more into such sobbing, that I stood abashed. +</p> + +<p> +“Hoot, hoot,” said Alan, looking mighty silly. “The day comes unco soon in this +month of July; and to-morrow there’ll be a fine to-do in Appin, a fine riding +of dragoons, and crying of ‘Cruachan!’<a href="#fn24" +name="fnref24"><sup>[24]</sup></a> and running of red-coats; and it behoves you +and me to the sooner be gone.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn24"></a> <a href="#fnref24">[24]</a> +The rallying-word of the Campbells. +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon we said farewell, and set out again, bending somewhat eastwards, in a +fine mild dark night, and over much the same broken country as before. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0208.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XX" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0020"></a>CHAPTER XX<br/> +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9208.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="S" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +ometimes we walked, sometimes ran; and as it drew on to morning, walked ever +the less and ran the more. Though, upon its face, that country appeared to be a +desert, yet there were huts and houses of the people, of which we must have +passed more than twenty, hidden in quiet places of the hills. When we came to +one of these, Alan would leave me in the way, and go himself and rap upon the +side of the house and speak awhile at the window with some sleeper awakened. +This was to pass the news; which, in that country, was so much of a duty that +Alan must pause to attend to it even while fleeing for his life; and so well +attended to by others, that in more than half of the houses where we called +they had heard already of the murder. In the others, as well as I could make +out (standing back at a distance and hearing a strange tongue), the news was +received with more of consternation than surprise. +</p> + +<p> +For all our hurry, day began to come in while we were still far from any +shelter. It found us in a prodigious valley, strewn with rocks and where ran a +foaming river. Wild mountains stood around it; there grew there neither grass +nor trees; and I have sometimes thought since then, that it may have been the +valley called Glencoe, where the massacre was in the time of King William. But +for the details of our itinerary, I am all to seek; our way lying now by short +cuts, now by great detours; our pace being so hurried, our time of journeying +usually by night; and the names of such places as I asked and heard being in +the Gaelic tongue and the more easily forgotten. +</p> + +<p> +The first peep of morning, then, showed us this horrible place, and I could see +Alan knit his brow. +</p> + +<p> +“This is no fit place for you and me,” he said. “This is a place they’re bound +to watch.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that he ran harder than ever down to the water-side, in a part where +the river was split in two among three rocks. It went through with a horrid +thundering that made my belly quake; and there hung over the lynn a little mist +of spray. Alan looked neither to the right nor to the left, but jumped clean +upon the middle rock and fell there on his hands and knees to check himself, +for that rock was small and he might have pitched over on the far side. I had +scarce time to measure the distance or to understand the peril before I had +followed him, and he had caught and stopped me. +</p> + +<p> +So there we stood, side by side upon a small rock slippery with spray, a far +broader leap in front of us, and the river dinning upon all sides. When I saw +where I was, there came on me a deadly sickness of fear, and I put my hand over +my eyes. Alan took me and shook me; I saw he was speaking, but the roaring of +the falls and the trouble of my mind prevented me from hearing; only I saw his +face was red with anger, and that he stamped upon the rock. The same look +showed me the water raging by, and the mist hanging in the air: and with that I +covered my eyes again and shuddered. +</p> + +<p> +The next minute Alan had set the brandy bottle to my lips, and forced me to +drink about a gill, which sent the blood into my head again. Then, putting his +hands to his mouth, and his mouth to my ear, he shouted, “Hang or drown!” and +turning his back upon me, leaped over the farther branch of the stream, and +landed safe. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0211.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="I was bent low on my knees +and flung myself forth" /> +</div> + +<p> +I was now alone upon the rock, which gave me the more room; the brandy was +singing in my ears; I had this good example fresh before me, and just wit +enough to see that if I did not leap at once, I should never leap at all. I +bent low on my knees and flung myself forth, with that kind of anger of despair +that has sometimes stood me in stead of courage. Sure enough, it was but my +hands that reached the full length; these slipped, caught again, slipped again; +and I was sliddering back into the lynn, when Alan seized me, first by the +hair, then by the collar, and with a great strain dragged me into safety. +</p> + +<p> +Never a word he said, but set off running again for his life, and I must +stagger to my feet and run after him. I had been weary before, but now I was +sick and bruised, and partly drunken with the brandy; I kept stumbling as I +ran, I had a stitch that came near to overmaster me; and when at last Alan +paused under a great rock that stood there among a number of others, it was +none too soon for David Balfour. +</p> + +<p> +A great rock I have said; but by rights it was two rocks leaning together at +the top, both some twenty feet high, and at the first sight inaccessible. Even +Alan (though you may say he had as good as four hands) failed twice in an +attempt to climb them; and it was only at the third trial, and then by standing +on my shoulders and leaping up with such force as I thought must have broken my +collar-bone, that he secured a lodgment. Once there, he let down his leathern +girdle; and with the aid of that and a pair of shallow footholds in the rock, I +scrambled up beside him. +</p> + +<p> +Then I saw why we had come there; for the two rocks, being both somewhat hollow +on the top and sloping one to the other, made a kind of dish or saucer, where +as many as three or four men might have lain hidden. +</p> + +<p> +All this while Alan had not said a word, and had run and climbed with such a +savage, silent frenzy of hurry, that I knew that he was in mortal fear of some +miscarriage. Even now we were on the rock he said nothing, nor so much as +relaxed the frowning look upon his face; but clapped flat down, and keeping +only one eye above the edge of our place of shelter scouted all round the +compass. The dawn had come quite clear; we could see the stony sides of the +valley, and its bottom, which was bestrewed with rocks, and the river, which +went from one side to another, and made white falls; but nowhere the smoke of a +house, nor any living creature but some eagles screaming round a cliff. +</p> + +<p> +Then at last Alan smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay” said he, “now we have a chance;” and then looking at me with some +amusement, “Ye’re no very gleg<a href="#fn25" +name="fnref25"><sup>[25]</sup></a> at the jumping,” said he. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn25"></a> <a href="#fnref25">[25]</a> +Brisk. +</p> + +<p> +At this I suppose I coloured with mortification, for he added at once, “Hoots! +small blame to ye! To be feared of a thing and yet to do it, is what makes the +prettiest kind of a man. And then there was water there, and water’s a thing +that dauntons even me. No, no,” said Alan, “it’s no you that’s to blame, it’s +me.” +</p> + +<p> +I asked him why. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” said he, “I have proved myself a gomeral this night. For first of all I +take a wrong road, and that in my own country of Appin; so that the day has +caught us where we should never have been; and thanks to that, we lie here in +some danger and mair discomfort. And next (which is the worst of the two, for a +man that has been so much among the heather as myself) I have come wanting a +water-bottle, and here we lie for a long summer’s day with naething but neat +spirit. Ye may think that a small matter; but before it comes night, David, +ye’ll give me news of it.” +</p> + +<p> +I was anxious to redeem my character, and offered, if he would pour out the +brandy, to run down and fill the bottle at the river. +</p> + +<p> +“I wouldnae waste the good spirit either,” says he. “It’s been a good friend to +you this night; or in my poor opinion, ye would still be cocking on yon stone. +And what’s mair,” says he, “ye may have observed (you that’s a man of so much +penetration) that Alan Breck Stewart was perhaps walking quicker than his +ordinar’.” +</p> + +<p> +“You!” I cried, “you were running fit to burst.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was I so?” said he. “Well, then, ye may depend upon it, there was nae time to +be lost. And now here is enough said; gang you to your sleep, lad, and I’ll +watch.” +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly, I lay down to sleep; a little peaty earth had drifted in between +the top of the two rocks, and some bracken grew there, to be a bed to me; the +last thing I heard was still the crying of the eagles. +</p> + +<p> +I dare say it would be nine in the morning when I was roughly awakened, and +found Alan’s hand pressed upon my mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“Wheesht!” he whispered. “Ye were snoring.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said I, surprised at his anxious and dark face, “and why not?” +</p> + +<p> +He peered over the edge of the rock, and signed to me to do the like. +</p> + +<p> +It was now high day, cloudless, and very hot. The valley was as clear as in a +picture. About half a mile up the water was a camp of red-coats; a big fire +blazed in their midst, at which some were cooking; and near by, on the top of a +rock about as high as ours, there stood a sentry, with the sun sparkling on his +arms. All the way down along the river-side were posted other sentries; here +near together, there widelier scattered; some planted like the first, on places +of command, some on the ground level and marching and counter-marching, so as +to meet half-way. Higher up the glen, where the ground was more open, the chain +of posts was continued by horse-soldiers, whom we could see in the distance +riding to and fro. Lower down, the infantry continued; but as the stream was +suddenly swelled by the confluence of a considerable burn, they were more +widely set, and only watched the fords and stepping-stones. +</p> + +<p> +I took but one look at them, and ducked again into my place. It was strange +indeed to see this valley, which had lain so solitary in the hour of dawn, +bristling with arms and dotted with the red coats and breeches. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye see,” said Alan, “this was what I was afraid of, Davie: that they would +watch the burn-side. They began to come in about two hours ago, and, man! but +ye’re a grand hand at the sleeping! We’re in a narrow place. If they get up the +sides of the hill, they could easy spy us with a glass; but if they’ll only +keep in the foot of the valley, we’ll do yet. The posts are thinner down the +water; and, come night, we’ll try our hand at getting by them.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what are we to do till night?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Lie here,” says he, “and birstle.” +</p> + +<p> +That one good Scotch word, “birstle,” was indeed the most of the story of the +day that we had now to pass. You are to remember that we lay on the bare top of +a rock, like scones upon a girdle; the sun beat upon us cruelly; the rock grew +so heated, a man could scarce endure the touch of it; and the little patch of +earth and fern, which kept cooler, was only large enough for one at a time. We +took turn about to lie on the naked rock, which was indeed like the position of +that saint that was martyred on a gridiron; and it ran in my mind how strange +it was, that in the same climate and at only a few days’ distance, I should +have suffered so cruelly, first from cold upon my island and now from heat upon +this rock. +</p> + +<p> +All the while we had no water, only raw brandy for a drink, which was worse +than nothing; but we kept the bottle as cool as we could, burying it in the +earth, and got some relief by bathing our breasts and temples. +</p> + +<p> +The soldiers kept stirring all day in the bottom of the valley, now changing +guard, now in patrolling parties hunting among the rocks. These lay round in so +great a number, that to look for men among them was like looking for a needle +in a bottle of hay; and being so hopeless a task, it was gone about with the +less care. Yet we could see the soldiers pike their bayonets among the heather, +which sent a cold thrill into my vitals; and they would sometimes hang about +our rock, so that we scarce dared to breathe. +</p> + +<p> +It was in this way that I first heard the right English speech; one fellow as +he went by actually clapping his hand upon the sunny face of the rock on which +we lay, and plucking it off again with an oath. “I tell you it’s ‘ot,” says he; +and I was amazed at the clipping tones and the odd sing-song in which he spoke, +and no less at that strange trick of dropping out the letter “h.” To be sure, I +had heard Ransome; but he had taken his ways from all sorts of people, and +spoke so imperfectly at the best, that I set down the most of it to +childishness. My surprise was all the greater to hear that manner of speaking +in the mouth of a grown man; and indeed I have never grown used to it; nor yet +altogether with the English grammar, as perhaps a very critical eye might here +and there spy out even in these memoirs. +</p> + +<p> +The tediousness and pain of these hours upon the rock grew only the greater as +the day went on; the rock getting still the hotter and the sun fiercer. There +were giddiness, and sickness, and sharp pangs like rheumatism, to be supported. +I minded then, and have often minded since, on the lines in our Scotch psalm:— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“The moon by night thee shall not smite,<br/> +Nor yet the sun by day;” +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +and indeed it was only by God’s blessing that we were neither of us +sun-smitten. +</p> + +<p> +At last, about two, it was beyond men’s bearing, and there was now temptation +to resist, as well as pain to thole. For the sun being now got a little into +the west, there came a patch of shade on the east side of our rock, which was +the side sheltered from the soldiers. +</p> + +<p> +“As well one death as another,” said Alan, and slipped over the edge and +dropped on the ground on the shadowy side. +</p> + +<p> +I followed him at once, and instantly fell all my length, so weak was I and so +giddy with that long exposure. Here, then, we lay for an hour or two, aching +from head to foot, as weak as water, and lying quite naked to the eye of any +soldier who should have strolled that way. None came, however, all passing by +on the other side; so that our rock continued to be our shield even in this new +position. +</p> + +<p> +Presently we began again to get a little strength; and as the soldiers were now +lying closer along the river-side, Alan proposed that we should try a start. I +was by this time afraid of but one thing in the world; and that was to be set +back upon the rock; anything else was welcome to me; so we got ourselves at +once in marching order, and began to slip from rock to rock one after the +other, now crawling flat on our bellies in the shade, now making a run for it, +heart in mouth. +</p> + +<p> +The soldiers, having searched this side of the valley after a fashion, and +being perhaps somewhat sleepy with the sultriness of the afternoon, had now +laid by much of their vigilance, and stood dozing at their posts or only kept a +look-out along the banks of the river; so that in this way, keeping down the +valley and at the same time towards the mountains, we drew steadily away from +their neighbourhood. But the business was the most wearing I had ever taken +part in. A man had need of a hundred eyes in every part of him, to keep +concealed in that uneven country and within cry of so many and scattered +sentries. When we must pass an open place, quickness was not all, but a swift +judgment not only of the lie of the whole country, but of the solidity of every +stone on which we must set foot; for the afternoon was now fallen so breathless +that the rolling of a pebble sounded abroad like a pistol shot, and would start +the echo calling among the hills and cliffs. +</p> + +<p> +By sundown we had made some distance, even by our slow rate of progress, though +to be sure the sentry on the rock was still plainly in our view. But now we +came on something that put all fears out of season; and that was a deep rushing +burn, that tore down, in that part, to join the glen river. At the sight of +this we cast ourselves on the ground and plunged head and shoulders in the +water; and I cannot tell which was the more pleasant, the great shock as the +cool stream went over us, or the greed with which we drank of it. +</p> + +<p> +We lay there (for the banks hid us), drank again and again, bathed our chests, +let our wrists trail in the running water till they ached with the chill; and +at last, being wonderfully renewed, we got out the meal-bag and made drammach +in the iron pan. This, though it is but cold water mingled with oatmeal, yet +makes a good enough dish for a hungry man; and where there are no means of +making fire, or (as in our case) good reason for not making one, it is the +chief stand-by of those who have taken to the heather. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as the shadow of the night had fallen, we set forth again, at first +with the same caution, but presently with more boldness, standing our full +height and stepping out at a good pace of walking. The way was very intricate, +lying up the steep sides of mountains and along the brows of cliffs; clouds had +come in with the sunset, and the night was dark and cool; so that I walked +without much fatigue, but in continual fear of falling and rolling down the +mountains, and with no guess at our direction. +</p> + +<p> +The moon rose at last and found us still on the road; it was in its last +quarter, and was long beset with clouds; but after awhile shone out and showed +me many dark heads of mountains, and was reflected far underneath us on the +narrow arm of a sea-loch. +</p> + +<p> +At this sight we both paused: I struck with wonder to find myself so high and +walking (as it seemed to me) upon clouds; Alan to make sure of his direction. +</p> + +<p> +Seemingly he was well pleased, and he must certainly have judged us out of +ear-shot of all our enemies; for throughout the rest of our night-march he +beguiled the way with whistling of many tunes, warlike, merry, plaintive; reel +tunes that made the foot go faster; tunes of my own south country that made me +fain to be home from my adventures; and all these, on the great, dark, desert +mountains, making company upon the way. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0220.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XXI" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0021"></a>CHAPTER XXI<br/> +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9220.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="E" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +arly as day comes in the beginning of July, it was still dark when we reached +our destination, a cleft in the head of a great mountain, with a water running +through the midst, and upon the one hand a shallow cave in a rock. Birches grew +there in a thin, pretty wood, which a little farther on was changed into a wood +of pines. The burn was full of trout; the wood of cushat-doves; on the open +side of the mountain beyond, whaups would be always whistling, and cuckoos were +plentiful. From the mouth of the cleft we looked down upon a part of Mamore, +and on the sea-loch that divides that country from Appin; and this from so +great a height as made it my continual wonder and pleasure to sit and behold +them. +</p> + +<p> +The name of the cleft was the Heugh of Corrynakiegh; and although from its +height and being so near upon the sea, it was often beset with clouds, yet it +was on the whole a pleasant place, and the five days we lived in it went +happily. +</p> + +<p> +We slept in the cave, making our bed of heather bushes which we cut for that +purpose, and covering ourselves with Alan’s great-coat. There was a low +concealed place, in a turning of the glen, where we were so bold as to make +fire: so that we could warm ourselves when the clouds set in, and cook hot +porridge, and grill the little trouts that we caught with our hands under the +stones and overhanging banks of the burn. This was indeed our chief pleasure +and business; and not only to save our meal against worse times, but with a +rivalry that much amused us, we spent a great part of our days at the +water-side, stripped to the waist and groping about or (as they say) guddling +for these fish. The largest we got might have been a quarter of a pound; but +they were of good flesh and flavour, and when broiled upon the coals, lacked +only a little salt to be delicious. +</p> + +<p> +In any by-time Alan must teach me to use my sword, for my ignorance had much +distressed him; and I think besides, as I had sometimes the upper-hand of him +in the fishing, he was not sorry to turn to an exercise where he had so much +the upper-hand of me. He made it somewhat more of a pain than need have been, +for he stormed at me all through the lessons in a very violent manner of +scolding, and would push me so close that I made sure he must run me through +the body. I was often tempted to turn tail, but held my ground for all that, +and got some profit of my lessons; if it was but to stand on guard with an +assured countenance, which is often all that is required. So, though I could +never in the least please my master, I was not altogether displeased with +myself. +</p> + +<p> +In the meanwhile, you are not to suppose that we neglected our chief business, +which was to get away. +</p> + +<p> +“It will be many a long day,” Alan said to me on our first morning, “before the +red-coats think upon seeking Corrynakiegh; so now we must get word sent to +James, and he must find the siller for us.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how shall we send that word?” says I. “We are here in a desert place, +which yet we dare not leave; and unless ye get the fowls of the air to be your +messengers, I see not what we shall be able to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay?” said Alan. “Ye’re a man of small contrivance, David.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon he fell in a muse, looking in the embers of the fire; and presently, +getting a piece of wood, he fashioned it in a cross, the four ends of which he +blackened on the coals. Then he looked at me a little shyly. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0223.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Getting a piece of wood, +he fashioned it in a cross" /> +</div> + +<p> +“Could ye lend me my button?” says he. “It seems a strange thing to ask a gift +again, but I own I am laith to cut another.” +</p> + +<p> +I gave him the button; whereupon he strung it on a strip of his great-coat +which he had used to bind the cross; and tying in a little sprig of birch and +another of fir, he looked upon his work with satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said he, “there is a little clachan” (what is called a hamlet in the +English) “not very far from Corrynakiegh, and it has the name of Koalisnacoan. +There there are living many friends of mine whom I could trust with my life, +and some that I am no just so sure of. Ye see, David, there will be money set +upon our heads; James himsel’ is to set money on them; and as for the +Campbells, they would never spare siller where there was a Stewart to be hurt. +If it was otherwise, I would go down to Koalisnacoan whatever, and trust my +life into these people’s hands as lightly as I would trust another with my +glove.” +</p> + +<p> +“But being so?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Being so,” said he, “I would as lief they didnae see me. There’s bad folk +everywhere, and what’s far worse, weak ones. So when it comes dark again, I +will steal down into that clachan, and set this that I have been making in the +window of a good friend of mine, John Breck Maccoll, a bouman<a href="#fn26" +name="fnref26"><sup>[26]</sup></a> of Appin’s.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn26"></a> <a href="#fnref26">[26]</a> +A bouman is a tenant who takes stock from the landlord and shares with him the +increase. +</p> + +<p> +“With all my heart,” says I; “and if he finds it, what is he to think?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” says Alan, “I wish he was a man of more penetration, for by my troth I +am afraid he will make little enough of it! But this is what I have in my mind. +This cross is something in the nature of the crosstarrie, or fiery cross, which +is the signal of gathering in our clans; yet he will know well enough the clan +is not to rise, for there it is standing in his window, and no word with it. So +he will say to himsel’, <i>The clan is not to rise, but there is something</i>. +Then he will see my button, and that was Duncan Stewart’s. And then he will say +to himsel’, <i>The son of Duncan is in the heather and has need of me</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said I, “it may be. But even supposing so, there is a good deal of +heather between here and the Forth.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that is a very true word,” says Alan. “But then John Breck will see the +sprig of birch and the sprig of pine; and he will say to himsel’ (if he is a +man of any penetration at all, which I misdoubt), <i>Alan will be lying in a +wood which is both of pines and birches</i>. Then he will think to himsel’, +<i>That is not so very rife hereabout;</i> and then he will come and give us a +look up in Corrynakiegh. And if he does not, David, the devil may fly away with +him, for what I care; for he will no be worth the salt to his porridge.” +</p> + +<p> +“Eh, man,” said I, drolling with him a little, “you’re very ingenious! But +would it not be simpler for you to write him a few words in black and white?” +</p> + +<p> +“And that is an excellent observe, Mr. Balfour of Shaws,” says Alan, drolling +with me; “and it would certainly be much simpler for me to write to him, but it +would be a sore job for John Breck to read it. He would have to go to the +school for two-three years; and it’s possible we might be wearied waiting on +him.” +</p> + +<p> +So that night Alan carried down his fiery cross and set it in the bouman’s +window. He was troubled when he came back; for the dogs had barked and the folk +run out from their houses; and he thought he had heard a clatter of arms and +seen a red-coat come to one of the doors. On all accounts we lay the next day +in the borders of the wood and kept a close look-out, so that if it was John +Breck that came we might be ready to guide him, and if it was the red-coats we +should have time to get away. +</p> + +<p> +About noon a man was to be spied, straggling up the open side of the mountain +in the sun, and looking round him as he came, from under his hand. No sooner +had Alan seen him than he whistled; the man turned and came a little towards +us: then Alan would give another “peep!” and the man would come still nearer; +and so by the sound of whistling, he was guided to the spot where we lay. +</p> + +<p> +He was a ragged, wild, bearded man, about forty, grossly disfigured with the +small pox, and looked both dull and savage. Although his English was very bad +and broken, yet Alan (according to his very handsome use, whenever I was by) +would suffer him to speak no Gaelic. Perhaps the strange language made him +appear more backward than he really was; but I thought he had little good-will +to serve us, and what he had was the child of terror. +</p> + +<p> +Alan would have had him carry a message to James; but the bouman would hear of +no message. “She was forget it,” he said in his screaming voice; and would +either have a letter or wash his hands of us. +</p> + +<p> +I thought Alan would be gravelled at that, for we lacked the means of writing +in that desert. +</p> + +<p> +But he was a man of more resources than I knew; searched the wood until he +found the quill of a cushat-dove, which he shaped into a pen; made himself a +kind of ink with gunpowder from his horn and water from the running stream; and +tearing a corner from his French military commission (which he carried in his +pocket, like a talisman to keep him from the gallows), he sat down and wrote as +follows: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“D<small>EAR</small> K<small>INSMAN</small>,—Please send the money by the +bearer to the place he kens of. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“Your affectionate cousin,<br/> +“A. S.” +</p> + +<p> +This he intrusted to the bouman, who promised to make what manner of speed he +best could, and carried it off with him down the hill. +</p> + +<p> +He was three full days gone, but about five in the evening of the third, we +heard a whistling in the wood, which Alan answered; and presently the bouman +came up the water-side, looking for us, right and left. He seemed less sulky +than before, and indeed he was no doubt well pleased to have got to the end of +such a dangerous commission. +</p> + +<p> +He gave us the news of the country; that it was alive with red-coats; that arms +were being found, and poor folk brought in trouble daily; and that James and +some of his servants were already clapped in prison at Fort William, under +strong suspicion of complicity. It seemed it was noised on all sides that Alan +Breck had fired the shot; and there was a bill issued for both him and me, with +one hundred pounds reward. +</p> + +<p> +This was all as bad as could be; and the little note the bouman had carried us +from Mrs. Stewart was of a miserable sadness. In it she besought Alan not to +let himself be captured, assuring him, if he fell in the hands of the troops, +both he and James were no better than dead men. The money she had sent was all +that she could beg or borrow, and she prayed heaven we could be doing with it. +Lastly, she said, she enclosed us one of the bills in which we were described. +</p> + +<p> +This we looked upon with great curiosity and not a little fear, partly as a man +may look in a mirror, partly as he might look into the barrel of an enemy’s gun +to judge if it be truly aimed. Alan was advertised as “a small, pock-marked, +active man of thirty-five or thereby, dressed in a feathered hat, a French +side-coat of blue with silver buttons, and lace a great deal tarnished, a red +waistcoat and breeches of black, shag;” and I as “a tall strong lad of about +eighteen, wearing an old blue coat, very ragged, an old Highland bonnet, a long +homespun waistcoat, blue breeches; his legs bare, low-country shoes, wanting +the toes; speaks like a Lowlander, and has no beard.” +</p> + +<p> +Alan was well enough pleased to see his finery so fully remembered and set +down; only when he came to the word tarnish, he looked upon his lace like one a +little mortified. As for myself, I thought I cut a miserable figure in the +bill; and yet was well enough pleased too, for since I had changed these rags, +the description had ceased to be a danger and become a source of safety. +</p> + +<p> +“Alan,” said I, “you should change your clothes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Na, troth!” said Alan, “I have nae others. A fine sight I would be, if I went +back to France in a bonnet!” +</p> + +<p> +This put a second reflection in my mind: that if I were to separate from Alan +and his tell-tale clothes I should be safe against arrest, and might go openly +about my business. Nor was this all; for suppose I was arrested when I was +alone, there was little against me; but suppose I was taken in company with the +reputed murderer, my case would begin to be grave. For generosity’s sake I dare +not speak my mind upon this head; but I thought of it none the less. +</p> + +<p> +I thought of it all the more, too, when the bouman brought out a green purse +with four guineas in gold, and the best part of another in small change. True, +it was more than I had. But then Alan, with less than five guineas, had to get +as far as France; I, with my less than two, not beyond Queensferry; so that +taking things in their proportion, Alan’s society was not only a peril to my +life, but a burden on my purse. +</p> + +<p> +But there was no thought of the sort in the honest head of my companion. He +believed he was serving, helping, and protecting me. And what could I do but +hold my peace, and chafe, and take my chance of it? +</p> + +<p> +“It’s little enough,” said Alan, putting the purse in his pocket, “but it’ll do +my business. And now, John Breck, if ye will hand me over my button, this +gentleman and me will be for taking the road.” +</p> + +<p> +But the bouman, after feeling about in a hairy purse that hung in front of him +in the Highland manner (though he wore otherwise the Lowland habit, with +sea-trousers), began to roll his eyes strangely, and at last said, “Her nainsel +will loss it,” meaning he thought he had lost it. +</p> + +<p> +“What!” cried Alan, “you will lose my button, that was my father’s before me? +Now I will tell you what is in my mind, John Breck: it is in my mind this is +the worst day’s work that ever ye did since ye was born.” +</p> + +<p> +And as Alan spoke, he set his hands on his knees and looked at the bouman with +a smiling mouth, and that dancing light in his eyes that meant mischief to his +enemies. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps the bouman was honest enough; perhaps he had meant to cheat and then, +finding himself alone with two of us in a desert place, cast back to honesty as +being safer; at least, and all at once, he seemed to find that button and +handed it to Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, and it is a good thing for the honour of the Maccolls,” said Alan, and +then to me, “Here is my button back again, and I thank you for parting with it, +which is of a piece with all your friendships to me.” Then he took the warmest +parting of the bouman. “For,” says he, “ye have done very well by me, and set +your neck at a venture, and I will always give you the name of a good man.” +</p> + +<p> +Lastly, the bouman took himself off by one way; and Alan and I (getting our +chattels together) struck into another to resume our flight. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0230.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XXII" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0022"></a>CHAPTER XXII<br/> +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9230.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="S" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +ome seven hours’ incessant, hard travelling brought us early in the morning to +the end of a range of mountains. In front of us there lay a piece of low, +broken, desert land, which we must now cross. The sun was not long up, and +shone straight in our eyes; a little, thin mist went up from the face of the +moorland like a smoke; so that (as Alan said) there might have been twenty +squadron of dragoons there and we none the wiser. +</p> + +<p> +We sat down, therefore, in a howe of the hill-side till the mist should have +risen, and made ourselves a dish of drammach, and held a council of war. +</p> + +<p> +“David,” said Alan, “this is the kittle bit. Shall we lie here till it comes +night, or shall we risk it, and stave on ahead?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said I, “I am tired indeed, but I could walk as far again, if that was +all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, but it isnae,” said Alan, “nor yet the half. This is how we stand: Appin’s +fair death to us. To the south it’s all Campbells, and no to be thought of. To +the north; well, there’s no muckle to be gained by going north; neither for +you, that wants to get to Queensferry, nor yet for me, that wants to get to +France. Well, then, we’ll can strike east.” +</p> + +<p> +“East be it!” says I, quite cheerily; but I was thinking in to myself: “O, man, +if you would only take one point of the compass and let me take any other, it +would be the best for both of us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, east, ye see, we have the muirs,” said Alan. “Once there, David, +it’s mere pitch-and-toss. Out on yon bald, naked, flat place, where can a body +turn to? Let the red-coats come over a hill, they can spy you miles away; and +the sorrow’s in their horses’ heels, they would soon ride you down. It’s no +good place, David; and I’m free to say, it’s worse by daylight than by dark.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alan,” said I, “hear my way of it. Appin’s death for us; we have none too much +money, nor yet meal; the longer they seek, the nearer they may guess where we +are; it’s all a risk; and I give my word to go ahead until we drop.” +</p> + +<p> +Alan was delighted. “There are whiles,” said he, “when ye are altogether too +canny and Whiggish to be company for a gentleman like me; but there come other +whiles when ye show yoursel’ a mettle spark; and it’s then, David, that I love +ye like a brother.” +</p> + +<p> +The mist rose and died away, and showed us that country lying as waste as the +sea; only the moorfowl and the pewees crying upon it, and far over to the east, +a herd of deer, moving like dots. Much of it was red with heather; much of the +rest broken up with bogs and hags and peaty pools; some had been burnt black in +a heath fire; and in another place there was quite a forest of dead firs, +standing like skeletons. A wearier-looking desert man never saw; but at least +it was clear of troops, which was our point. +</p> + +<p> +We went down accordingly into the waste, and began to make our toilsome and +devious travel towards the eastern verge. There were the tops of mountains all +round (you are to remember) from whence we might be spied at any moment; so it +behoved us to keep in the hollow parts of the moor, and when these turned aside +from our direction to move upon its naked face with infinite care. Sometimes, +for half an hour together, we must crawl from one heather bush to another, as +hunters do when they are hard upon the deer. It was a clear day again, with a +blazing sun; the water in the brandy bottle was soon gone; and altogether, if I +had guessed what it would be to crawl half the time upon my belly and to walk +much of the rest stooping nearly to the knees, I should certainly have held +back from such a killing enterprise. +</p> + +<p> +Toiling and resting and toiling again, we wore away the morning; and about noon +lay down in a thick bush of heather to sleep. Alan took the first watch; and it +seemed to me I had scarce closed my eyes before I was shaken up to take the +second. We had no clock to go by; and Alan stuck a sprig of heath in the ground +to serve instead; so that as soon as the shadow of the bush should fall so far +to the east, I might know to rouse him. But I was by this time so weary that I +could have slept twelve hours at a stretch; I had the taste of sleep in my +throat; my joints slept even when my mind was waking; the hot smell of the +heather, and the drone of the wild bees, were like possets to me; and every now +and again I would give a jump and find I had been dozing. +</p> + +<p> +The last time I woke I seemed to come back from farther away, and thought the +sun had taken a great start in the heavens. I looked at the sprig of heath, and +at that I could have cried aloud: for I saw I had betrayed my trust. My head +was nearly turned with fear and shame; and at what I saw, when I looked out +around me on the moor, my heart was like dying in my body. For sure enough, a +body of horse-soldiers had come down during my sleep, and were drawing near to +us from the south-east, spread out in the shape of a fan and riding their +horses to and fro in the deep parts of the heather. +</p> + +<p> +When I waked Alan, he glanced first at the soldiers, then at the mark and the +position of the sun, and knitted his brows with a sudden, quick look, both ugly +and anxious, which was all the reproach I had of him. +</p> + +<p> +“What are we to do now?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll have to play at being hares,” said he. “Do ye see yon mountain?” +pointing to one on the north-eastern sky. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then,” says he, “let us strike for that. Its name is Ben Alder. it is a +wild, desert mountain full of hills and hollows, and if we can win to it before +the morn, we may do yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Alan,” cried I, “that will take us across the very coming of the +soldiers!” +</p> + +<p> +“I ken that fine,” said he; “but if we are driven back on Appin, we are two +dead men. So now, David man, be brisk!” +</p> + +<p> +With that he began to run forward on his hands and knees with an incredible +quickness, as though it were his natural way of going. All the time, too, he +kept winding in and out in the lower parts of the moorland where we were the +best concealed. Some of these had been burned or at least scathed with fire; +and there rose in our faces (which were close to the ground) a blinding, +choking dust as fine as smoke. The water was long out; and this posture of +running on the hands and knees brings an overmastering weakness and weariness, +so that the joints ache and the wrists faint under your weight. +</p> + +<p> +Now and then, indeed, where was a big bush of heather, we lay awhile, and +panted, and putting aside the leaves, looked back at the dragoons. They had not +spied us, for they held straight on; a half-troop, I think, covering about two +miles of ground, and beating it mighty thoroughly as they went. I had awakened +just in time; a little later, and we must have fled in front of them, instead +of escaping on one side. Even as it was, the least misfortune might betray us; +and now and again, when a grouse rose out of the heather with a clap of wings, +we lay as still as the dead and were afraid to breathe. +</p> + +<p> +The aching and faintness of my body, the labouring of my heart, the soreness of +my hands, and the smarting of my throat and eyes in the continual smoke of dust +and ashes, had soon grown to be so unbearable that I would gladly have given +up. Nothing but the fear of Alan lent me enough of a false kind of courage to +continue. As for himself (and you are to bear in mind that he was cumbered with +a great-coat) he had first turned crimson, but as time went on the redness +began to be mingled with patches of white; his breath cried and whistled as it +came; and his voice, when he whispered his observations in my ear during our +halts, sounded like nothing human. Yet he seemed in no way dashed in spirits, +nor did he at all abate in his activity, so that I was driven to marvel at the +man’s endurance. +</p> + +<p> +At length, in the first gloaming of the night, we heard a trumpet sound, and +looking back from among the heather, saw the troop beginning to collect. A +little after, they had built a fire and camped for the night, about the middle +of the waste. +</p> + +<p> +At this I begged and besought that we might lie down and sleep. +</p> + +<p> +“There shall be no sleep the night!” said Alan. “From now on, these weary +dragoons of yours will keep the crown of the muirland, and none will get out of +Appin but winged fowls. We got through in the nick of time, and shall we +jeopard what we’ve gained? Na, na, when the day comes, it shall find you and me +in a fast place on Ben Alder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alan,” I said, “it’s not the want of will: it’s the strength that I want. If I +could, I would; but as sure as I’m alive I cannot.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, then,” said Alan. “I’ll carry ye.” +</p> + +<p> +I looked to see if he were jesting; but no, the little man was in dead earnest; +and the sight of so much resolution shamed me. +</p> + +<p> +“Lead away!” said I. “I’ll follow.” +</p> + +<p> +He gave me one look as much as to say, “Well done, David!” and off he set again +at his top speed. +</p> + +<p> +It grew cooler and even a little darker (but not much) with the coming of the +night. The sky was cloudless; it was still early in July, and pretty far north; +in the darkest part of that night, you would have needed pretty good eyes to +read, but for all that, I have often seen it darker in a winter mid-day. Heavy +dew fell and drenched the moor like rain; and this refreshed me for a while. +When we stopped to breathe, and I had time to see all about me, the clearness +and sweetness of the night, the shapes of the hills like things asleep, and the +fire dwindling away behind us, like a bright spot in the midst of the moor, +anger would come upon me in a clap that I must still drag myself in agony and +eat the dust like a worm. +</p> + +<p> +By what I have read in books, I think few that have held a pen were ever really +wearied, or they would write of it more strongly. I had no care of my life, +neither past nor future, and I scarce remembered there was such a lad as David +Balfour. I did not think of myself, but just of each fresh step which I was +sure would be my last, with despair—and of Alan, who was the cause of it, with +hatred. Alan was in the right trade as a soldier; this is the officer’s part to +make men continue to do things, they know not wherefore, and when, if the +choice was offered, they would lie down where they were and be killed. And I +dare say I would have made a good enough private; for in these last hours it +never occurred to me that I had any choice but just to obey as long as I was +able, and die obeying. +</p> + +<p> +Day began to come in, after years, I thought; and by that time we were past the +greatest danger, and could walk upon our feet like men, instead of crawling +like brutes. But, dear heart have mercy! what a pair we must have made, going +double like old grandfathers, stumbling like babes, and as white as dead folk. +Never a word passed between us; each set his mouth and kept his eyes in front +of him, and lifted up his foot and set it down again, like people lifting +weights at a country play;<a href="#fn27" name="fnref27"><sup>[27]</sup></a> +all the while, with the moorfowl crying “peep!” in the heather, and the light +coming slowly clearer in the east. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn27"></a> <a href="#fnref27">[27]</a> +Village fair. +</p> + +<p> +I say Alan did as I did. Not that ever I looked at him, for I had enough ado to +keep my feet; but because it is plain he must have been as stupid with +weariness as myself, and looked as little where we were going, or we should not +have walked into an ambush like blind men. +</p> + +<p> +It fell in this way. We were going down a heathery brae, Alan leading and I +following a pace or two behind, like a fiddler and his wife; when upon a sudden +the heather gave a rustle, three or four ragged men leaped out, and the next +moment we were lying on our backs, each with a dirk at his throat. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0237.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="The next moment we were +lying on our backs, each with a dirk at his throat" /> +</div> + +<p> +I don’t think I cared; the pain of this rough handling was quite swallowed up +by the pains of which I was already full; and I was too glad to have stopped +walking to mind about a dirk. I lay looking up in the face of the man that held +me; and I mind his face was black with the sun, and his eyes very light, but I +was not afraid of him. I heard Alan and another whispering in the Gaelic; and +what they said was all one to me. +</p> + +<p> +Then the dirks were put up, our weapons were taken away, and we were set face +to face, sitting in the heather. +</p> + +<p> +“They are Cluny’s men,” said Alan. “We couldnae have fallen better. We’re just +to bide here with these, which are his out-sentries, till they can get word to +the chief of my arrival.” +</p> + +<p> +Now Cluny Macpherson, the chief of the clan Vourich, had been one of the +leaders of the great rebellion six years before; there was a price on his life; +and I had supposed him long ago in France, with the rest of the heads of that +desperate party. Even tired as I was, the surprise of what I heard half wakened +me. +</p> + +<p> +“What,” I cried, “is Cluny still here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, is he so!” said Alan. “Still in his own country and kept by his own clan. +King George can do no more.” +</p> + +<p> +I think I would have asked farther, but Alan gave me the put-off. “I am rather +wearied,” he said, “and I would like fine to get a sleep.” And without more +words, he rolled on his face in a deep heather bush, and seemed to sleep at +once. +</p> + +<p> +There was no such thing possible for me. You have heard grasshoppers whirring +in the grass in the summer time? Well, I had no sooner closed my eyes, than my +body, and above all my head, belly, and wrists, seemed to be filled with +whirring grasshoppers; and I must open my eyes again at once, and tumble and +toss, and sit up and lie down; and look at the sky which dazzled me, or at +Cluny’s wild and dirty sentries, peering out over the top of the brae and +chattering to each other in the Gaelic. +</p> + +<p> +That was all the rest I had, until the messenger returned; when, as it appeared +that Cluny would be glad to receive us, we must get once more upon our feet and +set forward. Alan was in excellent good spirits, much refreshed by his sleep, +very hungry, and looking pleasantly forward to a dram and a dish of hot +collops, of which, it seems, the messenger had brought him word. For my part, +it made me sick to hear of eating. I had been dead-heavy before, and now I felt +a kind of dreadful lightness, which would not suffer me to walk. I drifted like +a gossamer; the ground seemed to me a cloud, the hills a feather-weight, the +air to have a current, like a running burn, which carried me to and fro. With +all that, a sort of horror of despair sat on my mind, so that I could have wept +at my own helplessness. +</p> + +<p> +I saw Alan knitting his brows at me, and supposed it was in anger; and that +gave me a pang of light-headed fear, like what a child may have. I remember, +too, that I was smiling, and could not stop smiling, hard as I tried; for I +thought it was out of place at such a time. But my good companion had nothing +in his mind but kindness; and the next moment, two of the gillies had me by the +arms, and I began to be carried forward with great swiftness (or so it appeared +to me, although I dare say it was slowly enough in truth), through a labyrinth +of dreary glens and hollows and into the heart of that dismal mountain of Ben +Alder. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0241.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XXIII" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0023"></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br/> +CLUNY’S CAGE</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9241.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="W" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +e came at last to the foot of an exceeding steep wood, which scrambled up a +craggy hillside, and was crowned by a naked precipice. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s here,” said one of the guides, and we struck up hill. +</p> + +<p> +The trees clung upon the slope, like sailors on the shrouds of a ship, and +their trunks were like the rounds of a ladder, by which we mounted. +</p> + +<p> +Quite at the top, and just before the rocky face of the cliff sprang above the +foliage, we found that strange house which was known in the country as “Cluny’s +Cage.” The trunks of several trees had been wattled across, the intervals +strengthened with stakes, and the ground behind this barricade levelled up with +earth to make the floor. A tree, which grew out from the hillside, was the +living centre-beam of the roof. The walls were of wattle and covered with moss. +The whole house had something of an egg shape; and it half hung, half stood in +that steep, hillside thicket, like a wasp’s nest in a green hawthorn. +</p> + +<p> +Within, it was large enough to shelter five or six persons with some comfort. A +projection of the cliff had been cunningly employed to be the fireplace; and +the smoke rising against the face of the rock, and being not dissimilar in +colour, readily escaped notice from below. +</p> + +<p> +This was but one of Cluny’s hiding-places; he had caves, besides, and +underground chambers in several parts of his country; and following the reports +of his scouts, he moved from one to another as the soldiers drew near or moved +away. By this manner of living, and thanks to the affection of his clan, he had +not only stayed all this time in safety, while so many others had fled or been +taken and slain: but stayed four or five years longer, and only went to France +at last by the express command of his master. There he soon died; and it is +strange to reflect that he may have regretted his Cage upon Ben Alder. +</p> + +<p> +When we came to the door he was seated by his rock chimney, watching a gillie +about some cookery. He was mighty plainly habited, with a knitted nightcap +drawn over his ears, and smoked a foul cutty pipe. For all that he had the +manners of a king, and it was quite a sight to see him rise out of his place to +welcome us. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Mr. Stewart, come awa’, sir!” said he, “and bring in your friend that as +yet I dinna ken the name of.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how is yourself, Cluny?” said Alan. “I hope ye do brawly, sir. And I am +proud to see ye, and to present to ye my friend the Laird of Shaws, Mr. David +Balfour.” +</p> + +<p> +Alan never referred to my estate without a touch of a sneer, when we were +alone; but with strangers, he rang the words out like a herald. +</p> + +<p> +“Step in by, the both of ye, gentlemen,” says Cluny. “I make ye welcome to my +house, which is a queer, rude place for certain, but one where I have +entertained a royal personage, Mr. Stewart—ye doubtless ken the personage I +have in my eye. We’ll take a dram for luck, and as soon as this handless man of +mine has the collops ready, we’ll dine and take a hand at the cartes as +gentlemen should. My life is a bit driegh,” says he, pouring out the brandy; “I +see little company, and sit and twirl my thumbs, and mind upon a great day that +is gone by, and weary for another great day that we all hope will be upon the +road. And so here’s a toast to ye: The Restoration!” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0243.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Here's a toast to ye: The +restoration" /> +</div> + +<p> +Thereupon we all touched glasses and drank. I am sure I wished no ill to King +George; and if he had been there himself in proper person, it’s like he would +have done as I did. No sooner had I taken out the drain than I felt hugely +better, and could look on and listen, still a little mistily perhaps, but no +longer with the same groundless horror and distress of mind. +</p> + +<p> +It was certainly a strange place, and we had a strange host. In his long +hiding, Cluny had grown to have all manner of precise habits, like those of an +old maid. He had a particular place, where no one else must sit; the Cage was +arranged in a particular way, which none must disturb; cookery was one of his +chief fancies, and even while he was greeting us in, he kept an eye to the +collops. +</p> + +<p> +It appears, he sometimes visited or received visits from his wife and one or +two of his nearest friends, under the cover of night; but for the more part +lived quite alone, and communicated only with his sentinels and the gillies +that waited on him in the Cage. The first thing in the morning, one of them, +who was a barber, came and shaved him, and gave him the news of the country, of +which he was immoderately greedy. There was no end to his questions; he put +them as earnestly as a child; and at some of the answers, laughed out of all +bounds of reason, and would break out again laughing at the mere memory, hours +after the barber was gone. +</p> + +<p> +To be sure, there might have been a purpose in his questions; for though he was +thus sequestered, and like the other landed gentlemen of Scotland, stripped by +the late Act of Parliament of legal powers, he still exercised a patriarchal +justice in his clan. Disputes were brought to him in his hiding-hole to be +decided; and the men of his country, who would have snapped their fingers at +the Court of Session, laid aside revenge and paid down money at the bare word +of this forfeited and hunted outlaw. When he was angered, which was often +enough, he gave his commands and breathed threats of punishment like any king; +and his gillies trembled and crouched away from him like children before a +hasty father. With each of them, as he entered, he ceremoniously shook hands, +both parties touching their bonnets at the same time in a military manner. +Altogether, I had a fair chance to see some of the inner workings of a Highland +clan; and this with a proscribed, fugitive chief; his country conquered; the +troops riding upon all sides in quest of him, sometimes within a mile of where +he lay; and when the least of the ragged fellows whom he rated and threatened, +could have made a fortune by betraying him. +</p> + +<p> +On that first day, as soon as the collops were ready, Cluny gave them with his +own hand a squeeze of a lemon (for he was well supplied with luxuries) and bade +us draw in to our meal. +</p> + +<p> +“They,” said he, meaning the collops, “are such as I gave his Royal Highness in +this very house; bating the lemon juice, for at that time we were glad to get +the meat and never fashed for kitchen.<a href="#fn28" +name="fnref28"><sup>[28]</sup></a> Indeed, there were mair dragoons than lemons +in my country in the year forty-six.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn28"></a> <a href="#fnref28">[28]</a> +Condiment. +</p> + +<p> +I do not know if the collops were truly very good, but my heart rose against +the sight of them, and I could eat but little. All the while Cluny entertained +us with stories of Prince Charlie’s stay in the Cage, giving us the very words +of the speakers, and rising from his place to show us where they stood. By +these, I gathered the Prince was a gracious, spirited boy, like the son of a +race of polite kings, but not so wise as Solomon. I gathered, too, that while +he was in the Cage, he was often drunk; so the fault that has since, by all +accounts, made such a wreck of him, had even then begun to show itself. +</p> + +<p> +We were no sooner done eating than Cluny brought out an old, thumbed, greasy +pack of cards, such as you may find in a mean inn; and his eyes brightened in +his face as he proposed that we should fall to playing. +</p> + +<p> +Now this was one of the things I had been brought up to eschew like disgrace; +it being held by my father neither the part of a Christian nor yet of a +gentleman to set his own livelihood and fish for that of others, on the cast of +painted pasteboard. To be sure, I might have pleaded my fatigue, which was +excuse enough; but I thought it behoved that I should bear a testimony. I must +have got very red in the face, but I spoke steadily, and told them I had no +call to be a judge of others, but for my own part, it was a matter in which I +had no clearness. +</p> + +<p> +Cluny stopped mingling the cards. “What in deil’s name is this?” says he. “What +kind of Whiggish, canting talk is this, for the house of Cluny Macpherson?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will put my hand in the fire for Mr. Balfour,” says Alan. “He is an honest +and a mettle gentleman, and I would have ye bear in mind who says it. I bear a +king’s name,” says he, cocking his hat; “and I and any that I call friend are +company for the best. But the gentleman is tired, and should sleep; if he has +no mind to the cartes, it will never hinder you and me. And I’m fit and +willing, sir, to play ye any game that ye can name.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” says Cluny, “in this poor house of mine I would have you to ken that any +gentleman may follow his pleasure. If your friend would like to stand on his +head, he is welcome. And if either he, or you, or any other man, is not +preceesely satisfied, I will be proud to step outside with him.” +</p> + +<p> +I had no will that these two friends should cut their throats for my sake. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said I, “I am very wearied, as Alan says; and what’s more, as you are a +man that likely has sons of your own, I may tell you it was a promise to my +father.” +</p> + +<p> +“Say nae mair, say nae mair,” said Cluny, and pointed me to a bed of heather in +a corner of the Cage. For all that he was displeased enough, looked at me +askance, and grumbled when he looked. And indeed it must be owned that both my +scruples and the words in which I declared them, smacked somewhat of the +Covenanter, and were little in their place among wild Highland Jacobites. +</p> + +<p> +What with the brandy and the venison, a strange heaviness had come over me; and +I had scarce lain down upon the bed before I fell into a kind of trance, in +which I continued almost the whole time of our stay in the Cage. Sometimes I +was broad awake and understood what passed; sometimes I only heard voices, or +men snoring, like the voice of a silly river; and the plaids upon the wall +dwindled down and swelled out again, like firelight shadows on the roof. I must +sometimes have spoken or cried out, for I remember I was now and then amazed at +being answered; yet I was conscious of no particular nightmare, only of a +general, black, abiding horror—a horror of the place I was in, and the bed I +lay in, and the plaids on the wall, and the voices, and the fire, and myself. +</p> + +<p> +The barber-gillie, who was a doctor too, was called in to prescribe for me; but +as he spoke in the Gaelic, I understood not a word of his opinion, and was too +sick even to ask for a translation. I knew well enough I was ill, and that was +all I cared about. +</p> + +<p> +I paid little heed while I lay in this poor pass. But Alan and Cluny were most +of the time at the cards, and I am clear that Alan must have begun by winning; +for I remember sitting up, and seeing them hard at it, and a great glittering +pile of as much as sixty or a hundred guineas on the table. It looked strange +enough, to see all this wealth in a nest upon a cliff-side, wattled about +growing trees. And even then, I thought it seemed deep water for Alan to be +riding, who had no better battle-horse than a green purse and a matter of five +pounds. +</p> + +<p> +The luck, it seems, changed on the second day. About noon I was wakened as +usual for dinner, and as usual refused to eat, and was given a dram with some +bitter infusion which the barber had prescribed. The sun was shining in at the +open door of the Cage, and this dazzled and offended me. Cluny sat at the +table, biting the pack of cards. Alan had stooped over the bed, and had his +face close to my eyes; to which, troubled as they were with the fever, it +seemed of the most shocking bigness. +</p> + +<p> +He asked me for a loan of my money. +</p> + +<p> +“What for?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“O, just for a loan,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“But why?” I repeated. “I don’t see.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hut, David!” said Alan, “ye wouldnae grudge me a loan?” +</p> + +<p> +I would, though, if I had had my senses! But all I thought of then was to get +his face away, and I handed him my money. +</p> + +<p> +On the morning of the third day, when we had been forty-eight hours in the +Cage, I awoke with a great relief of spirits, very weak and weary indeed, but +seeing things of the right size and with their honest, everyday appearance. I +had a mind to eat, moreover, rose from bed of my own movement, and as soon as +we had breakfasted, stepped to the entry of the Cage and sat down outside in +the top of the wood. It was a grey day with a cool, mild air: and I sat in a +dream all morning, only disturbed by the passing by of Cluny’s scouts and +servants coming with provisions and reports; for as the coast was at that time +clear, you might almost say he held court openly. +</p> + +<p> +When I returned, he and Alan had laid the cards aside, and were questioning a +gillie; and the chief turned about and spoke to me in the Gaelic. +</p> + +<p> +“I have no Gaelic, sir,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +Now since the card question, everything I said or did had the power of annoying +Cluny. “Your name has more sense than yourself, then,” said he angrily, “for +it’s good Gaelic. But the point is this. My scout reports all clear in the +south, and the question is, have ye the strength to go?” +</p> + +<p> +I saw cards on the table, but no gold; only a heap of little written papers, +and these all on Cluny’s side. Alan, besides, had an odd look, like a man not +very well content; and I began to have a strong misgiving. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know if I am as well as I should be,” said I, looking at Alan; “but +the little money we have has a long way to carry us.” +</p> + +<p> +Alan took his under-lip into his mouth, and looked upon the ground. +</p> + +<p> +“David,” says he at last, “I’ve lost it; there’s the naked truth.” +</p> + +<p> +“My money too?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Your money too,” says Alan, with a groan. “Ye shouldnae have given it me. I’m +daft when I get to the cartes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hoot-toot! hoot-toot!” said Cluny. “It was all daffing; it’s all nonsense. Of +course you’ll have your money back again, and the double of it, if ye’ll make +so free with me. It would be a singular thing for me to keep it. It’s not to be +supposed that I would be any hindrance to gentlemen in your situation; that +would be a singular thing!” cries he, and began to pull gold out of his pocket +with a mighty red face. +</p> + +<p> +Alan said nothing, only looked on the ground. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you step to the door with me, sir?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +Cluny said he would be very glad, and followed me readily enough, but he looked +flustered and put out. +</p> + +<p> +“And now, sir,” says I, “I must first acknowledge your generosity.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsensical nonsense!” cries Cluny. “Where’s the generosity? This is just a +most unfortunate affair; but what would ye have me do—boxed up in this bee-skep +of a cage of mine—but just set my friends to the cartes, when I can get them? +And if they lose, of course, it’s not to be supposed——” And here he came to a +pause. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said I, “if they lose, you give them back their money; and if they win, +they carry away yours in their pouches! I have said before that I grant your +generosity; but to me, sir, it’s a very painful thing to be placed in this +position.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a little silence, in which Cluny seemed always as if he was about to +speak, but said nothing. All the time he grew redder and redder in the face. +</p> + +<p> +“I am a young man,” said I, “and I ask your advice. Advise me as you would your +son. My friend fairly lost his money, after having fairly gained a far greater +sum of yours; can I accept it back again? Would that be the right part for me +to play? Whatever I do, you can see for yourself it must be hard upon a man of +any pride.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s rather hard on me, too, Mr. Balfour,” said Cluny, “and ye give me very +much the look of a man that has entrapped poor people to their hurt. I wouldnae +have my friends come to any house of mine to accept affronts; no,” he cried, +with a sudden heat of anger, “nor yet to give them!” +</p> + +<p> +“And so you see, sir,” said I, “there is something to be said upon my side; and +this gambling is a very poor employ for gentlefolks. But I am still waiting +your opinion.” +</p> + +<p> +I am sure if ever Cluny hated any man it was David Balfour. He looked me all +over with a warlike eye, and I saw the challenge at his lips. But either my +youth disarmed him, or perhaps his own sense of justice. Certainly it was a +mortifying matter for all concerned, and not least Cluny; the more credit that +he took it as he did. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Balfour,” said he, “I think you are too nice and covenanting, but for all +that you have the spirit of a very pretty gentleman. Upon my honest word, ye +may take this money—it’s what I would tell my son—and here’s my hand along with +it!” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0252.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XXIV" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0024"></a>CHAPTER XXIV<br/> +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE QUARREL</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9252.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="A" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +lan and I were put across Loch Errocht under cloud of night, and went down its +eastern shore to another hiding-place near the head of Loch Rannoch, whither we +were led by one of the gillies from the Cage. This fellow carried all our +luggage and Alan’s great-coat in the bargain, trotting along under the burthen, +far less than the half of which used to weigh me to the ground, like a stout +hill pony with a feather; yet he was a man that, in plain contest, I could have +broken on my knee. +</p> + +<p> +Doubtless it was a great relief to walk disencumbered; and perhaps without that +relief, and the consequent sense of liberty and lightness, I could not have +walked at all. I was but new risen from a bed of sickness; and there was +nothing in the state of our affairs to hearten me for much exertion; +travelling, as we did, over the most dismal deserts in Scotland, under a cloudy +heaven, and with divided hearts among the travellers. +</p> + +<p> +For long, we said nothing; marching alongside or one behind the other, each +with a set countenance: I, angry and proud, and drawing what strength I had +from these two violent and sinful feelings; Alan angry and ashamed, ashamed +that he had lost my money, angry that I should take it so ill. +</p> + +<p> +The thought of a separation ran always the stronger in my mind; and the more I +approved of it, the more ashamed I grew of my approval. It would be a fine, +handsome, generous thing, indeed, for Alan to turn round and say to me: “Go, I +am in the most danger, and my company only increases yours.” But for me to turn +to the friend who certainly loved me, and say to him: “You are in great danger, +I am in but little; your friendship is a burden; go, take your risks and bear +your hardships alone——” no, that was impossible; and even to think of it +privily to myself, made my cheeks to burn. +</p> + +<p> +And yet Alan had behaved like a child, and (what is worse) a treacherous child. +Wheedling my money from me while I lay half-conscious was scarce better than +theft; and yet here he was trudging by my side, without a penny to his name, +and by what I could see, quite blithe to sponge upon the money he had driven me +to beg. True, I was ready to share it with him; but it made me rage to see him +count upon my readiness. +</p> + +<p> +These were the two things uppermost in my mind; and I could open my mouth upon +neither without black ungenerosity. So I did the next worst, and said nothing, +nor so much as looked once at my companion, save with the tail of my eye. +</p> + +<p> +At last, upon the other side of Loch Errocht, going over a smooth, rushy place, +where the walking was easy, he could bear it no longer, and came close to me. +</p> + +<p> +“David,” says he, “this is no way for two friends to take a small accident. I +have to say that I’m sorry; and so that’s said. And now if you have anything, +ye’d better say it.” +</p> + +<p> +“O,” says I, “I have nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed disconcerted; at which I was meanly pleased. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said he, with rather a trembling voice, “but when I say I was to blame?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, of course, ye were to blame,” said I, coolly; “and you will bear me out +that I have never reproached you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never,” says he; “but ye ken very well that ye’ve done worse. Are we to part? +Ye said so once before. Are ye to say it again? There’s hills and heather +enough between here and the two seas, David; and I will own I’m no very keen to +stay where I’m no wanted.” +</p> + +<p> +This pierced me like a sword, and seemed to lay bare my private disloyalty. +</p> + +<p> +“Alan Breck!” I cried; and then: “Do you think I am one to turn my back on you +in your chief need? You dursn’t say it to my face. My whole conduct’s there to +give the lie to it. It’s true, I fell asleep upon the muir; but that was from +weariness, and you do wrong to cast it up to me——” +</p> + +<p> +“Which is what I never did,” said Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“But aside from that,” I continued, “what have I done that you should even me +to dogs by such a supposition? I never yet failed a friend, and it’s not likely +I’ll begin with you. There are things between us that I can never forget, even +if you can.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will only say this to ye, David,” said Alan, very quietly, “that I have long +been owing ye my life, and now I owe ye money. Ye should try to make that +burden light for me.” +</p> + +<p> +This ought to have touched me, and in a manner it did, but the wrong manner. I +felt I was behaving badly; and was now not only angry with Alan, but angry with +myself in the bargain; and it made me the more cruel. +</p> + +<p> +“You asked me to speak,” said I. “Well, then, I will. You own yourself that you +have done me a disservice; I have had to swallow an affront: I have never +reproached you, I never named the thing till you did. And now you blame me,” +cried I, “because I cannae laugh and sing as if I was glad to be affronted. The +next thing will be that I’m to go down upon my knees and thank you for it! Ye +should think more of others, Alan Breck. If ye thought more of others, ye would +perhaps speak less about yourself; and when a friend that likes you very well +has passed over an offence without a word, you would be blithe to let it lie, +instead of making it a stick to break his back with. By your own way of it, it +was you that was to blame; then it shouldnae be you to seek the quarrel.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aweel,” said Alan, “say nae mair.” +</p> + +<p> +And we fell back into our former silence; and came to our journey’s end, and +supped, and lay down to sleep, without another word. +</p> + +<p> +The gillie put us across Loch Rannoch in the dusk of the next day, and gave us +his opinion as to our best route. This was to get us up at once into the tops +of the mountains: to go round by a circuit, turning the heads of Glen Lyon, +Glen Lochay, and Glen Dochart, and come down upon the lowlands by Kippen and +the upper waters of the Forth. Alan was little pleased with a route which led +us through the country of his blood-foes, the Glenorchy Campbells. He objected +that by turning to the east, we should come almost at once among the Athole +Stewarts, a race of his own name and lineage, although following a different +chief, and come besides by a far easier and swifter way to the place whither we +were bound. But the gillie, who was indeed the chief man of Cluny’s scouts, had +good reasons to give him on all hands, naming the force of troops in every +district, and alleging finally (as well as I could understand) that we should +nowhere be so little troubled as in a country of the Campbells. +</p> + +<p> +Alan gave way at last, but with only half a heart. “It’s one of the dowiest +countries in Scotland,” said he. “There’s naething there that I ken, but heath, +and crows, and Campbells. But I see that ye’re a man of some penetration; and +be it as ye please!” +</p> + +<p> +We set forth accordingly by this itinerary; and for the best part of three +nights travelled on eerie mountains and among the well-heads of wild rivers; +often buried in mist, almost continually blown and rained upon, and not once +cheered by any glimpse of sunshine. By day, we lay and slept in the drenching +heather; by night, incessantly clambered upon break-neck hills and among rude +crags. We often wandered; we were often so involved in fog, that we must lie +quiet till it lightened. A fire was never to be thought of. Our only food was +drammach and a portion of cold meat that we had carried from the Cage; and as +for drink, Heaven knows we had no want of water. +</p> + +<p> +This was a dreadful time, rendered the more dreadful by the gloom of the +weather and the country. I was never warm; my teeth chattered in my head; I was +troubled with a very sore throat, such as I had on the isle; I had a painful +stitch in my side, which never left me; and when I slept in my wet bed, with +the rain beating above and the mud oozing below me, it was to live over again +in fancy the worst part of my adventures—to see the tower of Shaws lit by +lightning, Ransome carried below on the men’s backs, Shuan dying on the +round-house floor, or Colin Campbell grasping at the bosom of his coat. From +such broken slumbers, I would be aroused in the gloaming, to sit up in the same +puddle where I had slept, and sup cold drammach; the rain driving sharp in my +face or running down my back in icy trickles; the mist enfolding us like as in +a gloomy chamber—or, perhaps, if the wind blew, falling suddenly apart and +showing us the gulf of some dark valley where the streams were crying aloud. +</p> + +<p> +The sound of an infinite number of rivers came up from all round. In this +steady rain the springs of the mountain were broken up; every glen gushed water +like a cistern; every stream was in high spate, and had filled and overflowed +its channel. During our night tramps, it was solemn to hear the voice of them +below in the valleys, now booming like thunder, now with an angry cry. I could +well understand the story of the Water Kelpie, that demon of the streams, who +is fabled to keep wailing and roaring at the ford until the coming of the +doomed traveller. Alan I saw believed it, or half believed it; and when the cry +of the river rose more than usually sharp, I was little surprised (though, of +course, I would still be shocked) to see him cross himself in the manner of the +Catholics. +</p> + +<p> +During all these horrid wanderings we had no familiarity, scarcely even that of +speech. The truth is that I was sickening for my grave, which is my best +excuse. But besides that I was of an unforgiving disposition from my birth, +slow to take offence, slower to forget it, and now incensed both against my +companion and myself. For the best part of two days he was unweariedly kind; +silent, indeed, but always ready to help, and always hoping (as I could very +well see) that my displeasure would blow by. For the same length of time I +stayed in myself, nursing my anger, roughly refusing his services, and passing +him over with my eyes as if he had been a bush or a stone. +</p> + +<p> +The second night, or rather the peep of the third day, found us upon a very +open hill, so that we could not follow our usual plan and lie down immediately +to eat and sleep. Before we had reached a place of shelter, the grey had come +pretty clear, for though it still rained, the clouds ran higher; and Alan, +looking in my face, showed some marks of concern. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye had better let me take your pack,” said he, for perhaps the ninth time +since we had parted from the scout beside Loch Rannoch. +</p> + +<p> +“I do very well, I thank you,” said I, as cold as ice. +</p> + +<p> +Alan flushed darkly. “I’ll not offer it again,” he said. “I’m not a patient +man, David.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never said you were,” said I, which was exactly the rude, silly speech of a +boy of ten. +</p> + +<p> +Alan made no answer at the time, but his conduct answered for him. Henceforth, +it is to be thought, he quite forgave himself for the affair at Cluny’s; cocked +his hat again, walked jauntily, whistled airs, and looked at me upon one side +with a provoking smile. +</p> + +<p> +The third night we were to pass through the western end of the country of +Balquhidder. It came clear and cold, with a touch in the air like frost, and a +northerly wind that blew the clouds away and made the stars bright. The streams +were full, of course, and still made a great noise among the hills; but I +observed that Alan thought no more upon the Kelpie, and was in high good +spirits. As for me, the change of weather came too late; I had lain in the mire +so long that (as the Bible has it) my very clothes “abhorred me.” I was dead +weary, deadly sick and full of pains and shiverings; the chill of the wind went +through me, and the sound of it confused my ears. In this poor state I had to +bear from my companion something in the nature of a persecution. He spoke a +good deal, and never without a taunt. “Whig” was the best name he had to give +me. “Here,” he would say, “here’s a dub for ye to jump, my Whiggie! I ken +you’re a fine jumper!” And so on; all the time with a gibing voice and face. +</p> + +<p> +I knew it was my own doing, and no one else’s; but I was too miserable to +repent. I felt I could drag myself but little farther; pretty soon, I must lie +down and die on these wet mountains like a sheep or a fox, and my bones must +whiten there like the bones of a beast. My head was light perhaps; but I began +to love the prospect, I began to glory in the thought of such a death, alone in +the desert, with the wild eagles besieging my last moments. Alan would repent +then, I thought; he would remember, when I was dead, how much he owed me, and +the remembrance would be torture. So I went like a sick, silly, and bad-hearted +schoolboy, feeding my anger against a fellow-man, when I would have been better +on my knees, crying on God for mercy. And at each of Alan’s taunts, I hugged +myself. “Ah!” thinks I to myself, “I have a better taunt in readiness; when I +lie down and die, you will feel it like a buffet in your face; ah, what a +revenge! ah, how you will regret your ingratitude and cruelty!” +</p> + +<p> +All the while, I was growing worse and worse. Once I had fallen, my leg simply +doubling under me, and this had struck Alan for the moment; but I was afoot so +briskly, and set off again with such a natural manner, that he soon forgot the +incident. Flushes of heat went over me, and then spasms of shuddering. The +stitch in my side was hardly bearable. At last I began to feel that I could +trail myself no farther: and with that, there came on me all at once the wish +to have it out with Alan, let my anger blaze, and be done with my life in a +more sudden manner. He had just called me “Whig.” I stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Stewart,” said I, in a voice that quivered like a fiddle-string, “you are +older than I am, and should know your manners. Do you think it either very wise +or very witty to cast my politics in my teeth? I thought, where folk differed, +it was the part of gentlemen to differ civilly; and if I did not, I may tell +you I could find a better taunt than some of yours.” +</p> + +<p> +Alan had stopped opposite to me, his hat cocked, his hands in his breeches +pockets, his head a little on one side. He listened, smiling evilly, as I could +see by the starlight; and when I had done he began to whistle a Jacobite air. +It was the air made in mockery of General Cope’s defeat at Preston Pans: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin’ yet?<br/> +And are your drums a-beatin’ yet?” +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +And it came in my mind that Alan, on the day of that battle, had been engaged +upon the royal side. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do ye take that air, Mr. Stewart?” said I. “Is that to remind me you have +been beaten on both sides?” +</p> + +<p> +The air stopped on Alan’s lips. “David!” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“But it’s time these manners ceased,” I continued; “and I mean you shall +henceforth speak civilly of my King and my good friends the Campbells.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am a Stewart—” began Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“O!” says I, “I ken ye bear a king’s name. But you are to remember, since I +have been in the Highlands, I have seen a good many of those that bear it; and +the best I can say of them is this, that they would be none the worse of +washing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know that you insult me?” said Alan, very low. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry for that,” said I, “for I am not done; and if you distaste the +sermon, I doubt the pirliecue<a href="#fn29" name="fnref29"><sup>[29]</sup></a> +will please you as little. You have been chased in the field by the grown men +of my party; it seems a poor kind of pleasure to out-face a boy. Both the +Campbells and the Whigs have beaten you; you have run before them like a hare. +It behoves you to speak of them as of your betters.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn29"></a> <a href="#fnref29">[29]</a> +A second sermon. +</p> + +<p> +Alan stood quite still, the tails of his great-coat clapping behind him in the +wind. +</p> + +<p> +“This is a pity,” he said at last. “There are things said that cannot be passed +over.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never asked you to,” said I. “I am as ready as yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ready?” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“Ready,” I repeated. “I am no blower and boaster like some that I could name. +Come on!” And drawing my sword, I fell on guard as Alan himself had taught me. +</p> + +<p> +“David!” he cried. “Are ye daft? I cannae draw upon ye, David. It’s fair +murder.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was your look-out when you insulted me,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the truth!” cried Alan, and he stood for a moment, wringing his mouth in +his hand like a man in sore perplexity. “It’s the bare truth,” he said, and +drew his sword. But before I could touch his blade with mine, he had thrown it +from him and fallen to the ground. “Na, na,” he kept saying, “na, na—I cannae, +I cannae.” +</p> + +<p> +At this the last of my anger oozed all out of me; and I found myself only sick, +and sorry, and blank, and wondering at myself. I would have given the world to +take back what I had said; but a word once spoken, who can recapture it? I +minded me of all Alan’s kindness and courage in the past, how he had helped and +cheered and borne with me in our evil days; and then recalled my own insults, +and saw that I had lost for ever that doughty friend. At the same time, the +sickness that hung upon me seemed to redouble, and the pang in my side was like +a sword for sharpness. I thought I must have swooned where I stood. +</p> + +<p> +This it was that gave me a thought. No apology could blot out what I had said; +it was needless to think of one, none could cover the offence; but where an +apology was vain, a mere cry for help might bring Alan back to my side. I put +my pride away from me. “Alan!” I said; “if ye cannae help me, I must just die +here.” +</p> + +<p> +He started up sitting, and looked at me. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s true,” said I. “I’m by with it. O, let me get into the bield of a +house—I’ll can die there easier.” I had no need to pretend; whether I chose or +not, I spoke in a weeping voice that would have melted a heart of stone. +</p> + +<p> +“Can ye walk?” asked Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said I, “not without help. This last hour my legs have been fainting +under me; I’ve a stitch in my side like a red-hot iron; I cannae breathe right. +If I die, ye’ll can forgive me, Alan? In my heart, I liked ye fine—even when I +was the angriest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wheesht, wheesht!” cried Alan. “Dinna say that! David man, ye ken—” He shut +his mouth upon a sob. “Let me get my arm about ye,” he continued; “that’s the +way! Now lean upon me hard. Gude kens where there’s a house! We’re in +Balwhidder, too; there should be no want of houses, no, nor friends’ houses +here. Do ye gang easier so, Davie?” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0261.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Do ye gang..." /> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0263.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Do ye gang easier so, +Davie? " /> +</div> + +<p> +“Ay,” said I, “I can be doing this way;” and I pressed his arm with my hand. +</p> + +<p> +Again he came near sobbing. “Davie,” said he, “I’m no a right man at all; I +have neither sense nor kindness; I could nae remember ye were just a bairn, I +couldnae see ye were dying on your feet; Davie, ye’ll have to try and forgive +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“O man, let’s say no more about it!” said I. “We’re neither one of us to mend +the other—that’s the truth! We must just bear and forbear, man Alan. O, but my +stitch is sore! Is there nae house?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll find a house to ye, David,” he said, stoutly. “We’ll follow down the +burn, where there’s bound to be houses. My poor man, will ye no be better on my +back?” +</p> + +<p> +“O, Alan,” says I, “and me a good twelve inches taller?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ye’re no such a thing,” cried Alan, with a start. “There may be a trifling +matter of an inch or two; I’m no saying I’m just exactly what ye would call a +tall man, whatever; and I dare say,” he added, his voice tailing off in a +laughable manner, “now when I come to think of it, I dare say ye’ll be just +about right. Ay, it’ll be a foot, or near hand; or may be even mair!” +</p> + +<p> +It was sweet and laughable to hear Alan eat his words up in the fear of some +fresh quarrel. I could have laughed, had not my stitch caught me so hard; but +if I had laughed, I think I must have wept too. +</p> + +<p> +“Alan,” cried I, “what makes ye so good to me? What makes ye care for such a +thankless fellow?” +</p> + +<p> +“‘Deed, and I don’t know” said Alan. “For just precisely what I thought I liked +about ye, was that ye never quarrelled:—and now I like ye better!” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0267.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XXV" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0025"></a>CHAPTER XXV<br/> +IN BALQUHIDDER</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9267.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="A" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +t the door of the first house we came to, Alan knocked, which was of no very +safe enterprise in such a part of the Highlands as the Braes of Balquhidder. No +great clan held rule there; it was filled and disputed by small septs, and +broken remnants, and what they call “chiefless folk,” driven into the wild +country about the springs of Forth and Teith by the advance of the Campbells. +Here were Stewarts and Maclarens, which came to the same thing, for the +Maclarens followed Alan’s chief in war, and made but one clan with Appin. Here, +too, were many of that old, proscribed, nameless, red-handed clan of the +Macgregors. They had always been ill-considered, and now worse than ever, +having credit with no side or party in the whole country of Scotland. Their +chief, Macgregor of Macgregor, was in exile; the more immediate leader of that +part of them about Balquhidder, James More, Rob Roy’s eldest son, lay waiting +his trial in Edinburgh Castle; they were in ill-blood with Highlander and +Lowlander, with the Grahames, the Maclarens, and the Stewarts; and Alan, who +took up the quarrel of any friend, however distant, was extremely wishful to +avoid them. +</p> + +<p> +Chance served us very well; for it was a household of Maclarens that we found, +where Alan was not only welcome for his name’s sake but known by reputation. +Here then I was got to bed without delay, and a doctor fetched, who found me in +a sorry plight. But whether because he was a very good doctor, or I a very +young, strong man, I lay bedridden for no more than a week, and before a month +I was able to take the road again with a good heart. +</p> + +<p> +All this time Alan would not leave me though I often pressed him, and indeed +his foolhardiness in staying was a common subject of outcry with the two or +three friends that were let into the secret. He hid by day in a hole of the +braes under a little wood; and at night, when the coast was clear, would come +into the house to visit me. I need not say if I was pleased to see him; Mrs. +Maclaren, our hostess, thought nothing good enough for such a guest; and as +Duncan Dhu (which was the name of our host) had a pair of pipes in his house, +and was much of a lover of music, this time of my recovery was quite a +festival, and we commonly turned night into day. +</p> + +<p> +The soldiers let us be; although once a party of two companies and some +dragoons went by in the bottom of the valley, where I could see them through +the window as I lay in bed. What was much more astonishing, no magistrate came +near me, and there was no question put of whence I came or whither I was going; +and in that time of excitement, I was as free of all inquiry as though I had +lain in a desert. Yet my presence was known before I left to all the people in +Balquhidder and the adjacent parts; many coming about the house on visits and +these (after the custom of the country) spreading the news among their +neighbours. The bills, too, had now been printed. There was one pinned near the +foot of my bed, where I could read my own not very flattering portrait and, in +larger characters, the amount of the blood money that had been set upon my +life. Duncan Dhu and the rest that knew that I had come there in Alan’s +company, could have entertained no doubt of who I was; and many others must +have had their guess. For though I had changed my clothes, I could not change +my age or person; and Lowland boys of eighteen were not so rife in these parts +of the world, and above all about that time, that they could fail to put one +thing with another, and connect me with the bill. So it was, at least. Other +folk keep a secret among two or three near friends, and somehow it leaks out; +but among these clansmen, it is told to a whole countryside, and they will keep +it for a century. +</p> + +<p> +There was but one thing happened worth narrating; and that is the visit I had +of Robin Oig, one of the sons of the notorious Rob Roy. He was sought upon all +sides on a charge of carrying a young woman from Balfron and marrying her (as +was alleged) by force; yet he stepped about Balquhidder like a gentleman in his +own walled policy. It was he who had shot James Maclaren at the plough stilts, +a quarrel never satisfied; yet he walked into the house of his blood enemies as +a rider<a href="#fn30" name="fnref30"><sup>[30]</sup></a> might into a public +inn. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn30"></a> <a href="#fnref30">[30]</a> +Commercial traveller. +</p> + +<p> +Duncan had time to pass me word of who it was; and we looked at one another in +concern. You should understand, it was then close upon the time of Alan’s +coming; the two were little likely to agree; and yet if we sent word or sought +to make a signal, it was sure to arouse suspicion in a man under so dark a +cloud as the Macgregor. +</p> + +<p> +He came in with a great show of civility, but like a man among inferiors; took +off his bonnet to Mrs. Maclaren, but clapped it on his head again to speak to +Duncan; and having thus set himself (as he would have thought) in a proper +light, came to my bedside and bowed. +</p> + +<p> +“I am given to know, sir,” says he, “that your name is Balfour.” +</p> + +<p> +“They call me David Balfour,” said I, “at your service.” +</p> + +<p> +“I would give ye my name in return, sir,” he replied, “but it’s one somewhat +blown upon of late days; and it’ll perhaps suffice if I tell ye that I am own +brother to James More Drummond or Macgregor, of whom ye will scarce have failed +to hear.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir,” said I, a little alarmed; “nor yet of your father, +Macgregor-Campbell.” And I sat up and bowed in bed; for I thought best to +compliment him, in case he was proud of having had an outlaw to his father. +</p> + +<p> +He bowed in return. “But what I am come to say, sir,” he went on, “is this. In +the year ‘45, my brother raised a part of the ‘Gregara’ and marched six +companies to strike a stroke for the good side; and the surgeon that marched +with our clan and cured my brother’s leg when it was broken in the brush at +Preston Pans, was a gentleman of the same name precisely as yourself. He was +brother to Balfour of Baith; and if you are in any reasonable degree of +nearness one of that gentleman’s kin, I have come to put myself and my people +at your command.” +</p> + +<p> +You are to remember that I knew no more of my descent than any cadger’s dog; my +uncle, to be sure, had prated of some of our high connections, but nothing to +the present purpose; and there was nothing left me but that bitter disgrace of +owning that I could not tell. +</p> + +<p> +Robin told me shortly he was sorry he had put himself about, turned his back +upon me without a sign of salutation, and as he went towards the door, I could +hear him telling Duncan that I was “only some kinless loon that didn’t know his +own father.” Angry as I was at these words, and ashamed of my own ignorance, I +could scarce keep from smiling that a man who was under the lash of the law +(and was indeed hanged some three years later) should be so nice as to the +descent of his acquaintances. +</p> + +<p> +Just in the door, he met Alan coming in; and the two drew back and looked at +each other like strange dogs. They were neither of them big men, but they +seemed fairly to swell out with pride. Each wore a sword, and by a movement of +his haunch, thrust clear the hilt of it, so that it might be the more readily +grasped and the blade drawn. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Stewart, I am thinking,” says Robin. +</p> + +<p> +“Troth, Mr. Macgregor, it’s not a name to be ashamed of,” answered Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not know ye were in my country, sir,” says Robin. +</p> + +<p> +“It sticks in my mind that I am in the country of my friends the Maclarens,” +says Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a kittle point,” returned the other. “There may be two words to say to +that. But I think I will have heard that you are a man of your sword?” +</p> + +<p> +“Unless ye were born deaf, Mr. Macgregor, ye will have heard a good deal more +than that,” says Alan. “I am not the only man that can draw steel in Appin; and +when my kinsman and captain, Ardshiel, had a talk with a gentleman of your +name, not so many years back, I could never hear that the Macgregor had the +best of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do ye mean my father, sir?” says Robin. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I wouldnae wonder,” said Alan. “The gentleman I have in my mind had the +ill-taste to clap Campbell to his name.” +</p> + +<p> +“My father was an old man,” returned Robin. +</p> + +<p> +“The match was unequal. You and me would make a better pair, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was thinking that,” said Alan. +</p> + +<p> +I was half out of bed, and Duncan had been hanging at the elbow of these +fighting cocks, ready to intervene upon the least occasion. But when that word +was uttered, it was a case of now or never; and Duncan, with something of a +white face to be sure, thrust himself between. +</p> + +<p> +“Gentlemen,” said he, “I will have been thinking of a very different matter, +whateffer. Here are my pipes, and here are you two gentlemen who are baith +acclaimed pipers. It’s an auld dispute which one of ye’s the best. Here will be +a braw chance to settle it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, sir,” said Alan, still addressing Robin, from whom indeed he had not so +much as shifted his eyes, nor yet Robin from him, “why, sir,” says Alan, “I +think I will have heard some sough<a href="#fn31" +name="fnref31"><sup>[31]</sup></a> of the sort. Have ye music, as folk say? Are +ye a bit of a piper?” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn31"></a> <a href="#fnref31">[31]</a> +Rumour. +</p> + +<p> +“I can pipe like a Macrimmon!” cries Robin. +</p> + +<p> +“And that is a very bold word,” quoth Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“I have made bolder words good before now,” returned Robin, “and that against +better adversaries.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is easy to try that,” says Alan. +</p> + +<p> +Duncan Dhu made haste to bring out the pair of pipes that was his principal +possession, and to set before his guests a mutton-ham and a bottle of that +drink which they call Athole brose, and which is made of old whiskey, strained +honey and sweet cream, slowly beaten together in the right order and +proportion. The two enemies were still on the very breach of a quarrel; but +down they sat, one upon each side of the peat fire, with a mighty show of +politeness. Maclaren pressed them to taste his mutton-ham and “the wife’s +brose,” reminding them the wife was out of Athole and had a name far and wide +for her skill in that confection. But Robin put aside these hospitalities as +bad for the breath. +</p> + +<p> +“I would have ye to remark, sir,” said Alan, “that I havenae broken bread for +near upon ten hours, which will be worse for the breath than any brose in +Scotland.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will take no advantages, Mr. Stewart,” replied Robin. “Eat and drink; I’ll +follow you.” +</p> + +<p> +Each ate a small portion of the ham and drank a glass of the brose to Mrs. +Maclaren; and then after a great number of civilities, Robin took the pipes and +played a little spring in a very ranting manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, ye can blow” said Alan; and taking the instrument from his rival, he first +played the same spring in a manner identical with Robin’s; and then wandered +into variations, which, as he went on, he decorated with a perfect flight of +grace-notes, such as pipers love, and call the “warblers.” +</p> + +<p> +I had been pleased with Robin’s playing, Alan’s ravished me. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s no very bad, Mr. Stewart,” said the rival, “but ye show a poor device +in your warblers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Me!” cried Alan, the blood starting to his face. “I give ye the lie.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do ye own yourself beaten at the pipes, then,” said Robin, “that ye seek to +change them for the sword?” +</p> + +<p> +“And that’s very well said, Mr. Macgregor,” returned Alan; “and in the +meantime” (laying a strong accent on the word) “I take back the lie. I appeal +to Duncan.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, ye need appeal to naebody,” said Robin. “Ye’re a far better judge than +any Maclaren in Balquhidder: for it’s a God’s truth that you’re a very +creditable piper for a Stewart. Hand me the pipes.” Alan did as he asked; and +Robin proceeded to imitate and correct some part of Alan’s variations, which it +seemed that he remembered perfectly. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, ye have music,” said Alan, gloomily. +</p> + +<p> +“And now be the judge yourself, Mr. Stewart,” said Robin; and taking up the +variations from the beginning, he worked them throughout to so new a purpose, +with such ingenuity and sentiment, and with so odd a fancy and so quick a knack +in the grace-notes, that I was amazed to hear him. +</p> + +<p> +As for Alan, his face grew dark and hot, and he sat and gnawed his fingers, +like a man under some deep affront. “Enough!” he cried. “Ye can blow the +pipes—make the most of that.” And he made as if to rise. +</p> + +<p> +But Robin only held out his hand as if to ask for silence, and struck into the +slow measure of a pibroch. It was a fine piece of music in itself, and nobly +played; but it seems, besides, it was a piece peculiar to the Appin Stewarts +and a chief favourite with Alan. The first notes were scarce out, before there +came a change in his face; when the time quickened, he seemed to grow restless +in his seat; and long before that piece was at an end, the last signs of his +anger died from him, and he had no thought but for the music. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0273.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Robin Oid, he said, Ye are +a great piper" /> +</div> + +<p> +“Robin Oig,” he said, when it was done, “ye are a great piper. I am not fit to +blow in the same kingdom with ye. Body of me! ye have mair music in your +sporran than I have in my head! And though it still sticks in my mind that I +could maybe show ye another of it with the cold steel, I warn ye +beforehand—it’ll no be fair! It would go against my heart to haggle a man that +can blow the pipes as you can!” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon that quarrel was made up; all night long the brose was going and the +pipes changing hands; and the day had come pretty bright, and the three men +were none the better for what they had been taking, before Robin as much as +thought upon the road. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0277.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XXVI" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0026"></a>CHAPTER XXVI<br/> +END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9277.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="T" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +he month, as I have said, was not yet out, but it was already far through +August, and beautiful warm weather, with every sign of an early and great +harvest, when I was pronounced able for my journey. Our money was now run to so +low an ebb that we must think first of all on speed; for if we came not soon to +Mr. Rankeillor’s, or if when we came there he should fail to help me, we must +surely starve. In Alan’s view, besides, the hunt must have now greatly +slackened; and the line of the Forth and even Stirling Bridge, which is the +main pass over that river, would be watched with little interest. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a chief principle in military affairs,” said he, “to go where ye are +least expected. Forth is our trouble; ye ken the saying, ‘Forth bridles the +wild Hielandman.’ Well, if we seek to creep round about the head of that river +and come down by Kippen or Balfron, it’s just precisely there that they’ll be +looking to lay hands on us. But if we stave on straight to the auld Brig of +Stirling, I’ll lay my sword they let us pass unchallenged.” +</p> + +<p> +The first night, accordingly, we pushed to the house of a Maclaren in +Strathire, a friend of Duncan’s, where we slept the twenty-first of the month, +and whence we set forth again about the fall of night to make another easy +stage. The twenty-second we lay in a heather bush on the hillside in Uam Var, +within view of a herd of deer, the happiest ten hours of sleep in a fine, +breathing sunshine and on bone-dry ground, that I have ever tasted. That night +we struck Allan Water, and followed it down; and coming to the edge of the +hills saw the whole Carse of Stirling underfoot, as flat as a pancake, with the +town and castle on a hill in the midst of it, and the moon shining on the Links +of Forth. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said Alan, “I kenna if ye care, but ye’re in your own land again. We +passed the Hieland Line in the first hour; and now if we could but pass yon +crooked water, we might cast our bonnets in the air.” +</p> + +<p> +In Allan Water, near by where it falls into the Forth, we found a little sandy +islet, overgrown with burdock, butterbur and the like low plants, that would +just cover us if we lay flat. Here it was we made our camp, within plain view +of Stirling Castle, whence we could hear the drums beat as some part of the +garrison paraded. Shearers worked all day in a field on one side of the river, +and we could hear the stones going on the hooks and the voices and even the +words of the men talking. It behoved to lie close and keep silent. But the sand +of the little isle was sun-warm, the green plants gave us shelter for our +heads, we had food and drink in plenty; and to crown all, we were within sight +of safety. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as the shearers quit their work and the dusk began to fall, we waded +ashore and struck for the Bridge of Stirling, keeping to the fields and under +the field fences. +</p> + +<p> +The bridge is close under the castle hill, an old, high, narrow bridge with +pinnacles along the parapet; and you may conceive with how much interest I +looked upon it, not only as a place famous in history, but as the very doors of +salvation to Alan and myself. The moon was not yet up when we came there; a few +lights shone along the front of the fortress, and lower down a few lighted +windows in the town; but it was all mighty still, and there seemed to be no +guard upon the passage. +</p> + +<p> +I was for pushing straight across; but Alan was more wary. +</p> + +<p> +“It looks unco’ quiet,” said he; “but for all that we’ll lie down here cannily +behind a dyke, and make sure.” +</p> + +<p> +So we lay for about a quarter of an hour, whiles whispering, whiles lying still +and hearing nothing earthly but the washing of the water on the piers. At last +there came by an old, hobbling woman with a crutch stick; who first stopped a +little, close to where we lay, and bemoaned herself and the long way she had +travelled; and then set forth again up the steep spring of the bridge. The +woman was so little, and the night still so dark, that we soon lost sight of +her; only heard the sound of her steps, and her stick, and a cough that she had +by fits, draw slowly farther away. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s bound to be across now,” I whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“Na,” said Alan, “her foot still sounds boss<a href="#fn32" +name="fnref32"><sup>[32]</sup></a> upon the bridge.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn32"></a> <a href="#fnref32">[32]</a> +Hollow. +</p> + +<p> +And just then—“Who goes?” cried a voice, and we heard the butt of a musket +rattle on the stones. I must suppose the sentry had been sleeping, so that had +we tried, we might have passed unseen; but he was awake now, and the chance +forfeited. +</p> + +<p> +“This’ll never do,” said Alan. “This’ll never, never do for us, David.” +</p> + +<p> +And without another word, he began to crawl away through the fields; and a +little after, being well out of eye-shot, got to his feet again, and struck +along a road that led to the eastward. I could not conceive what he was doing; +and indeed I was so sharply cut by the disappointment, that I was little likely +to be pleased with anything. A moment back and I had seen myself knocking at +Mr. Rankeillor’s door to claim my inheritance, like a hero in a ballad; and +here was I back again, a wandering, hunted blackguard, on the wrong side of +Forth. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Alan, “what would ye have? They’re none such fools as I took them +for. We have still the Forth to pass, Davie—weary fall the rains that fed and +the hillsides that guided it!” +</p> + +<p> +“And why go east?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Ou, just upon the chance!” said he. “If we cannae pass the river, we’ll have +to see what we can do for the firth.” +</p> + +<p> +“There are fords upon the river, and none upon the firth,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure there are fords, and a bridge forbye,” quoth Alan; “and of what +service, when they are watched?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said I, “but a river can be swum.” +</p> + +<p> +“By them that have the skill of it,” returned he; “but I have yet to hear that +either you or me is much of a hand at that exercise; and for my own part, I +swim like a stone.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not up to you in talking back, Alan,” I said; “but I can see we’re making +bad worse. If it’s hard to pass a river, it stands to reason it must be worse +to pass a sea.” +</p> + +<p> +“But there’s such a thing as a boat,” says Alan, “or I’m the more deceived.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, and such a thing as money,” says I. “But for us that have neither one nor +other, they might just as well not have been invented.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ye think so?” said Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“I do that,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“David,” says he, “ye’re a man of small invention and less faith. But let me +set my wits upon the hone, and if I cannae beg, borrow, nor yet steal a boat, +I’ll make one!” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I see ye!” said I. “And what’s more than all that: if ye pass a +bridge, it can tell no tales; but if we pass the firth, there’s the boat on the +wrong side—somebody must have brought it—the country-side will all be in a +bizz—-” +</p> + +<p> +“Man!” cried Alan, “if I make a boat, I’ll make a body to take it back again! +So deave me with no more of your nonsense, but walk (for that’s what you’ve got +to do)—and let Alan think for ye.” +</p> + +<p> +All night, then, we walked through the north side of the Carse under the high +line of the Ochil mountains; and by Alloa and Clackmannan and Culross, all of +which we avoided: and about ten in the morning, mighty hungry and tired, came +to the little clachan of Limekilns. This is a place that sits near in by the +water-side, and looks across the Hope to the town of the Queensferry. Smoke +went up from both of these, and from other villages and farms upon all hands. +The fields were being reaped; two ships lay anchored, and boats were coming and +going on the Hope. It was altogether a right pleasant sight to me; and I could +not take my fill of gazing at these comfortable, green, cultivated hills and +the busy people both of the field and sea. +</p> + +<p> +For all that, there was Mr. Rankeillor’s house on the south shore, where I had +no doubt wealth awaited me; and here was I upon the north, clad in poor enough +attire of an outlandish fashion, with three silver shillings left to me of all +my fortune, a price set upon my head, and an outlawed man for my sole company. +</p> + +<p> +“O, Alan!” said I, “to think of it! Over there, there’s all that heart could +want waiting me; and the birds go over, and the boats go over—all that please +can go, but just me only! O, man, but it’s a heart-break!” +</p> + +<p> +In Limekilns we entered a small change-house, which we only knew to be a public +by the wand over the door, and bought some bread and cheese from a good-looking +lass that was the servant. This we carried with us in a bundle, meaning to sit +and eat it in a bush of wood on the sea-shore, that we saw some third part of a +mile in front. As we went, I kept looking across the water and sighing to +myself; and though I took no heed of it, Alan had fallen into a muse. At last +he stopped in the way. +</p> + +<p> +“Did ye take heed of the lass we bought this of?” says he, tapping on the bread +and cheese. +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure,” said I, “and a bonny lass she was.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ye thought that?” cries he. “Man, David, that’s good news.” +</p> + +<p> +“In the name of all that’s wonderful, why so?” says I. “What good can that do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Alan, with one of his droll looks, “I was rather in hopes it would +maybe get us that boat.” +</p> + +<p> +“If it were the other way about, it would be liker it,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all that you ken, ye see,” said Alan. “I don’t want the lass to fall in +love with ye, I want her to be sorry for ye, David; to which end there is no +manner of need that she should take you for a beauty. Let me see” (looking me +curiously over). “I wish ye were a wee thing paler; but apart from that ye’ll +do fine for my purpose—ye have a fine, hang-dog, rag-and-tatter, clappermaclaw +kind of a look to ye, as if ye had stolen the coat from a potato-bogle. Come; +right about, and back to the change-house for that boat of ours.” +</p> + +<p> +I followed him, laughing. +</p> + +<p> +“David Balfour,” said he, “ye’re a very funny gentleman by your way of it, and +this is a very funny employ for ye, no doubt. For all that, if ye have any +affection for my neck (to say nothing of your own) ye will perhaps be kind +enough to take this matter responsibly. I am going to do a bit of play-acting, +the bottom ground of which is just exactly as serious as the gallows for the +pair of us. So bear it, if ye please, in mind, and conduct yourself according.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well,” said I, “have it as you will.” +</p> + +<p> +As we got near the clachan, he made me take his arm and hang upon it like one +almost helpless with weariness; and by the time he pushed open the change-house +door, he seemed to be half carrying me. The maid appeared surprised (as well +she might be) at our speedy return; but Alan had no words to spare for her in +explanation, helped me to a chair, called for a tass of brandy with which he +fed me in little sips, and then breaking up the bread and cheese helped me to +eat it like a nursery-lass; the whole with that grave, concerned, affectionate +countenance, that might have imposed upon a judge. It was small wonder if the +maid were taken with the picture we presented, of a poor, sick, overwrought lad +and his most tender comrade. She drew quite near, and stood leaning with her +back on the next table. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s like wrong with him?” said she at last. +</p> + +<p> +Alan turned upon her, to my great wonder, with a kind of fury. “Wrong?” cries +he. “He’s walked more hundreds of miles than he has hairs upon his chin, and +slept oftener in wet heather than dry sheets. Wrong, quo’ she! Wrong enough, I +would think! Wrong, indeed!” and he kept grumbling to himself as he fed me, +like a man ill-pleased. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s young for the like of that,” said the maid. +</p> + +<p> +“Ower young,” said Alan, with his back to her. +</p> + +<p> +“He would be better riding,” says she. +</p> + +<p> +“And where could I get a horse to him?” cried Alan, turning on her with the +same appearance of fury. “Would ye have me steal?” +</p> + +<p> +I thought this roughness would have sent her off in dudgeon, as indeed it +closed her mouth for the time. But my companion knew very well what he was +doing; and for as simple as he was in some things of life, had a great fund of +roguishness in such affairs as these. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye neednae tell me,” she said at last—“ye’re gentry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Alan, softened a little (I believe against his will) by this +artless comment, “and suppose we were? Did ever you hear that gentrice put +money in folk’s pockets?” +</p> + +<p> +She sighed at this, as if she were herself some disinherited great lady. “No,” +says she, “that’s true indeed.” +</p> + +<p> +I was all this while chafing at the part I played, and sitting tongue-tied +between shame and merriment; but somehow at this I could hold in no longer, and +bade Alan let me be, for I was better already. My voice stuck in my throat, for +I ever hated to take part in lies; but my very embarrassment helped on the +plot, for the lass no doubt set down my husky voice to sickness and fatigue. +</p> + +<p> +“Has he nae friends?” said she, in a tearful voice. +</p> + +<p> +“That has he so!” cried Alan, “if we could but win to them!—friends and rich +friends, beds to lie in, food to eat, doctors to see to him—and here he must +tramp in the dubs and sleep in the heather like a beggarman.” +</p> + +<p> +“And why that?” says the lass. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear,” said Alan, “I cannae very safely say; but I’ll tell ye what I’ll do +instead,” says he, “I’ll whistle ye a bit tune.” And with that he leaned pretty +far over the table, and in a mere breath of a whistle, but with a wonderful +pretty sentiment, gave her a few bars of “Charlie is my darling.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wheesht,” says she, and looked over her shoulder to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s it,” said Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“And him so young!” cries the lass. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s old enough to——” and Alan struck his forefinger on the back part of his +neck, meaning that I was old enough to lose my head. +</p> + +<p> +“It would be a black shame,” she cried, flushing high. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s what will be, though,” said Alan, “unless we manage the better.” +</p> + +<p> +At this the lass turned and ran out of that part of the house, leaving us alone +together. Alan in high good humour at the furthering of his schemes, and I in +bitter dudgeon at being called a Jacobite and treated like a child. +</p> + +<p> +“Alan,” I cried, “I can stand no more of this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ye’ll have to sit it then, Davie,” said he. “For if ye upset the pot now, ye +may scrape your own life out of the fire, but Alan Breck is a dead man.” +</p> + +<p> +This was so true that I could only groan; and even my groan served Alan’s +purpose, for it was overheard by the lass as she came flying in again with a +dish of white puddings and a bottle of strong ale. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor lamb!” says she, and had no sooner set the meat before us, than she +touched me on the shoulder with a little friendly touch, as much as to bid me +cheer up. Then she told us to fall to, and there would be no more to pay; for +the inn was her own, or at least her father’s, and he was gone for the day to +Pittencrieff. We waited for no second bidding, for bread and cheese is but cold +comfort and the puddings smelt excellently well; and while we sat and ate, she +took up that same place by the next table, looking on, and thinking, and +frowning to herself, and drawing the string of her apron through her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m thinking ye have rather a long tongue,” she said at last to Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay” said Alan; “but ye see I ken the folk I speak to.” +</p> + +<p> +“I would never betray ye,” said she, “if ye mean that.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said he, “ye’re not that kind. But I’ll tell ye what ye would do, ye +would help.” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldnae,” said she, shaking her head. “Na, I couldnae.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said he, “but if ye could?” +</p> + +<p> +She answered him nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here, my lass,” said Alan, “there are boats in the Kingdom of Fife, for I +saw two (no less) upon the beach, as I came in by your town’s end. Now if we +could have the use of a boat to pass under cloud of night into Lothian, and +some secret, decent kind of a man to bring that boat back again and keep his +counsel, there would be two souls saved—mine to all likelihood—his to a dead +surety. If we lack that boat, we have but three shillings left in this wide +world; and where to go, and how to do, and what other place there is for us +except the chains of a gibbet—I give you my naked word, I kenna! Shall we go +wanting, lassie? Are ye to lie in your warm bed and think upon us, when the +wind gowls in the chimney and the rain tirls on the roof? Are ye to eat your +meat by the cheeks of a red fire, and think upon this poor sick lad of mine, +biting his finger ends on a blae muir for cauld and hunger? Sick or sound, he +must aye be moving; with the death grapple at his throat he must aye be +trailing in the rain on the lang roads; and when he gants his last on a rickle +of cauld stanes, there will be nae friends near him but only me and God.” +</p> + +<p> +At this appeal, I could see the lass was in great trouble of mind, being +tempted to help us, and yet in some fear she might be helping malefactors; and +so now I determined to step in myself and to allay her scruples with a portion +of the truth. +</p> + +<p> +“Did ever you hear,” said I, “of Mr. Rankeillor of the Ferry?” +</p> + +<p> +“Rankeillor the writer?” said she. “I daur say that!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said I, “it’s to his door that I am bound, so you may judge by that if +I am an ill-doer; and I will tell you more, that though I am indeed, by a +dreadful error, in some peril of my life, King George has no truer friend in +all Scotland than myself.” +</p> + +<p> +Her face cleared up mightily at this, although Alan’s darkened. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s more than I would ask,” said she. “Mr. Rankeillor is a kennt man.” And +she bade us finish our meat, get clear of the clachan as soon as might be, and +lie close in the bit wood on the sea-beach. “And ye can trust me,” says she, +“I’ll find some means to put you over.” +</p> + +<p> +At this we waited for no more, but shook hands with her upon the bargain, made +short work of the puddings, and set forth again from Limekilns as far as to the +wood. It was a small piece of perhaps a score of elders and hawthorns and a few +young ashes, not thick enough to veil us from passersby upon the road or beach. +Here we must lie, however, making the best of the brave warm weather and the +good hopes we now had of a deliverance, and planing more particularly what +remained for us to do. +</p> + +<p> +We had but one trouble all day; when a strolling piper came and sat in the same +wood with us; a red-nosed, bleareyed, drunken dog, with a great bottle of +whisky in his pocket, and a long story of wrongs that had been done him by all +sorts of persons, from the Lord President of the Court of Session, who had +denied him justice, down to the Bailies of Inverkeithing who had given him more +of it than he desired. It was impossible but he should conceive some suspicion +of two men lying all day concealed in a thicket and having no business to +allege. As long as he stayed there he kept us in hot water with prying +questions; and after he was gone, as he was a man not very likely to hold his +tongue, we were in the greater impatience to be gone ourselves. +</p> + +<p> +The day came to an end with the same brightness; the night fell quiet and +clear; lights came out in houses and hamlets and then, one after another, began +to be put out; but it was past eleven, and we were long since strangely +tortured with anxieties, before we heard the grinding of oars upon the +rowing-pins. At that, we looked out and saw the lass herself coming rowing to +us in a boat. She had trusted no one with our affairs, not even her sweetheart, +if she had one; but as soon as her father was asleep, had left the house by a +window, stolen a neighbour’s boat, and come to our assistance single-handed. +</p> + +<p> +I was abashed how to find expression for my thanks; but she was no less abashed +at the thought of hearing them; begged us to lose no time and to hold our +peace, saying (very properly) that the heart of our matter was in haste and +silence; and so, what with one thing and another, she had set us on the Lothian +shore not far from Carriden, had shaken hands with us, and was out again at sea +and rowing for Limekilns, before there was one word said either of her service +or our gratitude. +</p> + +<p> +Even after she was gone, we had nothing to say, as indeed nothing was enough +for such a kindness. Only Alan stood a great while upon the shore shaking his +head. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0287.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="David, it is a very fine +lass" /> +</div> + +<p> +“It is a very fine lass,” he said at last. “David, it is a very fine lass.” And +a matter of an hour later, as we were lying in a den on the sea-shore and I had +been already dozing, he broke out again in commendations of her character. For +my part, I could say nothing, she was so simple a creature that my heart smote +me both with remorse and fear: remorse because we had traded upon her +ignorance; and fear lest we should have anyway involved her in the dangers of +our situation. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0291.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XXVII " /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0027"></a>CHAPTER XXVII<br/> +I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9291.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="T" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +he next day it was agreed that Alan should fend for himself till sunset; but as +soon as it began to grow dark, he should lie in the fields by the roadside near +to Newhalls, and stir for naught until he heard me whistling. At first I +proposed I should give him for a signal the “Bonnie House of Airlie,” which was +a favourite of mine; but he objected that as the piece was very commonly known, +any ploughman might whistle it by accident; and taught me instead a little +fragment of a Highland air, which has run in my head from that day to this, and +will likely run in my head when I lie dying. Every time it comes to me, it +takes me off to that last day of my uncertainty, with Alan sitting up in the +bottom of the den, whistling and beating the measure with a finger, and the +grey of the dawn coming on his face. +</p> + +<p> +I was in the long street of Queensferry before the sun was up. It was a fairly +built burgh, the houses of good stone, many slated; the town-hall not so fine, +I thought, as that of Peebles, nor yet the street so noble; but take it +altogether, it put me to shame for my foul tatters. +</p> + +<p> +As the morning went on, and the fires began to be kindled, and the windows to +open, and the people to appear out of the houses, my concern and despondency +grew ever the blacker. I saw now that I had no grounds to stand upon; and no +clear proof of my rights, nor so much as of my own identity. If it was all a +bubble, I was indeed sorely cheated and left in a sore pass. Even if things +were as I conceived, it would in all likelihood take time to establish my +contentions; and what time had I to spare with less than three shillings in my +pocket, and a condemned, hunted man upon my hands to ship out of the country? +Truly, if my hope broke with me, it might come to the gallows yet for both of +us. And as I continued to walk up and down, and saw people looking askance at +me upon the street or out of windows, and nudging or speaking one to another +with smiles, I began to take a fresh apprehension: that it might be no easy +matter even to come to speech of the lawyer, far less to convince him of my +story. +</p> + +<p> +For the life of me I could not muster up the courage to address any of these +reputable burghers; I thought shame even to speak with them in such a pickle of +rags and dirt; and if I had asked for the house of such a man as Mr. +Rankeillor, I suppose they would have burst out laughing in my face. So I went +up and down, and through the street, and down to the harbour-side, like a dog +that has lost its master, with a strange gnawing in my inwards, and every now +and then a movement of despair. It grew to be high day at last, perhaps nine in +the forenoon; and I was worn with these wanderings, and chanced to have stopped +in front of a very good house on the landward side, a house with beautiful, +clear glass windows, flowering knots upon the sills, the walls new-harled<a +href="#fn33" name="fnref33"><sup>[33]</sup></a> and a chase-dog sitting yawning +on the step like one that was at home. Well, I was even envying this dumb +brute, when the door fell open and there issued forth a shrewd, ruddy, kindly, +consequential man in a well-powdered wig and spectacles. I was in such a plight +that no one set eyes on me once, but he looked at me again; and this gentleman, +as it proved, was so much struck with my poor appearance that he came straight +up to me and asked me what I did. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn33"></a> <a href="#fnref33">[33]</a> +Newly rough-cast. +</p> + +<p> +I told him I was come to the Queensferry on business, and taking heart of +grace, asked him to direct me to the house of Mr. Rankeillor. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” said he, “that is his house that I have just come out of; and for a +rather singular chance, I am that very man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, sir,” said I, “I have to beg the favour of an interview.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know your name,” said he, “nor yet your face.” +</p> + +<p> +“My name is David Balfour,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“David Balfour?” he repeated, in rather a high tone, like one surprised. “And +where have you come from, Mr. David Balfour?” he asked, looking me pretty drily +in the face. +</p> + +<p> +“I have come from a great many strange places, sir,” said I; “but I think it +would be as well to tell you where and how in a more private manner.” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to muse awhile, holding his lip in his hand, and looking now at me +and now upon the causeway of the street. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” says he, “that will be the best, no doubt.” And he led me back with him +into his house, cried out to some one whom I could not see that he would be +engaged all morning, and brought me into a little dusty chamber full of books +and documents. Here he sate down, and bade me be seated; though I thought he +looked a little ruefully from his clean chair to my muddy rags. “And now,” says +he, “if you have any business, pray be brief and come swiftly to the point. +<i>Nec gemino bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo</i>—do you understand that?” says +he, with a keen look. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0293.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Here he sate down, and +bade me be seated" /> +</div> + +<p> +“I will even do as Horace says, sir,” I answered, smiling, “and carry you <i>in +medias res</i>.” He nodded as if he was well pleased, and indeed his scrap of +Latin had been set to test me. For all that, and though I was somewhat +encouraged, the blood came in my face when I added: “I have reason to believe +myself some rights on the estate of Shaws.” +</p> + +<p> +He got a paper book out of a drawer and set it before him open. “Well?” said +he. +</p> + +<p> +But I had shot my bolt and sat speechless. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, Mr. Balfour,” said he, “you must continue. Where were you born?” +</p> + +<p> +“In Essendean, sir,” said I, “the year 1733, the 12th of March.” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to follow this statement in his paper book; but what that meant I +knew not. “Your father and mother?” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“My father was Alexander Balfour, schoolmaster of that place,” said I, “and my +mother Grace Pitarrow; I think her people were from Angus.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any papers proving your identity?” asked Mr. Rankeillor. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir,” said I, “but they are in the hands of Mr. Campbell, the minister, +and could be readily produced. Mr. Campbell, too, would give me his word; and +for that matter, I do not think my uncle would deny me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Meaning Mr. Ebenezer Balfour?” says he. +</p> + +<p> +“The same,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Whom you have seen?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“By whom I was received into his own house,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever meet a man of the name of Hoseason?” asked Mr. Rankeillor. +</p> + +<p> +“I did so, sir, for my sins,” said I; “for it was by his means and the +procurement of my uncle, that I was kidnapped within sight of this town, +carried to sea, suffered shipwreck and a hundred other hardships, and stand +before you to-day in this poor accoutrement.” +</p> + +<p> +“You say you were shipwrecked,” said Rankeillor; “where was that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Off the south end of the Isle of Mull,” said I. “The name of the isle on which +I was cast up is the Island Earraid.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” says he, smiling, “you are deeper than me in the geography. But so far, I +may tell you, this agrees pretty exactly with other informations that I hold. +But you say you were kidnapped; in what sense?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the plain meaning of the word, sir,” said I. “I was on my way to your +house, when I was trepanned on board the brig, cruelly struck down, thrown +below, and knew no more of anything till we were far at sea. I was destined for +the plantations; a fate that, in God’s providence, I have escaped.” +</p> + +<p> +“The brig was lost on June the 27th,” says he, looking in his book, “and we are +now at August the 24th. Here is a considerable hiatus, Mr. Balfour, of near +upon two months. It has already caused a vast amount of trouble to your +friends; and I own I shall not be very well contented until it is set right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, sir,” said I, “these months are very easily filled up; but yet before +I told my story, I would be glad to know that I was talking to a friend.” +</p> + +<p> +“This is to argue in a circle,” said the lawyer. “I cannot be convinced till I +have heard you. I cannot be your friend till I am properly informed. If you +were more trustful, it would better befit your time of life. And you know, Mr. +Balfour, we have a proverb in the country that evil-doers are aye +evil-dreaders.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are not to forget, sir,” said I, “that I have already suffered by my +trustfulness; and was shipped off to be a slave by the very man that (if I +rightly understand) is your employer?” +</p> + +<p> +All this while I had been gaining ground with Mr. Rankeillor, and in proportion +as I gained ground, gaining confidence. But at this sally, which I made with +something of a smile myself, he fairly laughed aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” said he, “it is not so bad as that. <i>Fui, non sum</i>. I was indeed +your uncle’s man of business; but while you (<i>imberbis juvenis custode +remoto</i>) were gallivanting in the west, a good deal of water has run under +the bridges; and if your ears did not sing, it was not for lack of being talked +about. On the very day of your sea disaster, Mr. Campbell stalked into my +office, demanding you from all the winds. I had never heard of your existence; +but I had known your father; and from matters in my competence (to be touched +upon hereafter) I was disposed to fear the worst. Mr. Ebenezer admitted having +seen you; declared (what seemed improbable) that he had given you considerable +sums; and that you had started for the continent of Europe, intending to fulfil +your education, which was probable and praiseworthy. Interrogated how you had +come to send no word to Mr. Campbell, he deponed that you had expressed a great +desire to break with your past life. Further interrogated where you now were, +protested ignorance, but believed you were in Leyden. That is a close sum of +his replies. I am not exactly sure that any one believed him,” continued Mr. +Rankeillor with a smile; “and in particular he so much disrelished me +expressions of mine that (in a word) he showed me to the door. We were then at +a full stand; for whatever shrewd suspicions we might entertain, we had no +shadow of probation. In the very article, comes Captain Hoseason with the story +of your drowning; whereupon all fell through; with no consequences but concern +to Mr. Campbell, injury to my pocket, and another blot upon your uncle’s +character, which could very ill afford it. And now, Mr. Balfour,” said he, “you +understand the whole process of these matters, and can judge for yourself to +what extent I may be trusted.” +</p> + +<p> +Indeed he was more pedantic than I can represent him, and placed more scraps of +Latin in his speech; but it was all uttered with a fine geniality of eye and +manner which went far to conquer my distrust. Moreover, I could see he now +treated me as if I was myself beyond a doubt; so that first point of my +identity seemed fully granted. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said I, “if I tell you my story, I must commit a friend’s life to your +discretion. Pass me your word it shall be sacred; and for what touches myself, +I will ask no better guarantee than just your face.” +</p> + +<p> +He passed me his word very seriously. “But,” said he, “these are rather +alarming prolocutions; and if there are in your story any little jostles to the +law, I would beg you to bear in mind that I am a lawyer, and pass lightly.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon I told him my story from the first, he listening with his spectacles +thrust up and his eyes closed, so that I sometimes feared he was asleep. But no +such matter! he heard every word (as I found afterward) with such quickness of +hearing and precision of memory as often surprised me. Even strange outlandish +Gaelic names, heard for that time only, he remembered and would remind me of, +years after. Yet when I called Alan Breck in full, we had an odd scene. The +name of Alan had of course rung through Scotland, with the news of the Appin +murder and the offer of the reward; and it had no sooner escaped me than the +lawyer moved in his seat and opened his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I would name no unnecessary names, Mr. Balfour,” said he; “above all of +Highlanders, many of whom are obnoxious to the law.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it might have been better not,” said I, “but since I have let it slip, I +may as well continue.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all,” said Mr. Rankeillor. “I am somewhat dull of hearing, as you may +have remarked; and I am far from sure I caught the name exactly. We will call +your friend, if you please, Mr. Thomson—that there may be no reflections. And +in future, I would take some such way with any Highlander that you may have to +mention—dead or alive.” +</p> + +<p> +By this, I saw he must have heard the name all too clearly, and had already +guessed I might be coming to the murder. If he chose to play this part of +ignorance, it was no matter of mine; so I smiled, said it was no very +Highland-sounding name, and consented. Through all the rest of my story Alan +was Mr. Thomson; which amused me the more, as it was a piece of policy after +his own heart. James Stewart, in like manner, was mentioned under the style of +Mr. Thomson’s kinsman; Colin Campbell passed as a Mr. Glen; and to Cluny, when +I came to that part of my tale, I gave the name of “Mr. Jameson, a Highland +chief.” It was truly the most open farce, and I wondered that the lawyer should +care to keep it up; but, after all, it was quite in the taste of that age, when +there were two parties in the state, and quiet persons, with no very high +opinions of their own, sought out every cranny to avoid offence to either. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well,” said the lawyer, when I had quite done, “this is a great epic, a +great Odyssey of yours. You must tell it, sir, in a sound Latinity when your +scholarship is riper; or in English if you please, though for my part I prefer +the stronger tongue. You have rolled much; <i>quæ regio in terris</i>—what +parish in Scotland (to make a homely translation) has not been filled with your +wanderings? You have shown, besides, a singular aptitude for getting into false +positions; and, yes, upon the whole, for behaving well in them. This Mr. +Thomson seems to me a gentleman of some choice qualities, though perhaps a +trifle bloody-minded. It would please me none the worse, if (with all his +merits) he were soused in the North Sea, for the man, Mr. David, is a sore +embarrassment. But you are doubtless quite right to adhere to him; indubitably, +he adhered to you. <i>It comes</i>—we may say—he was your true companion; nor +less <i>paribus curis vestigia figit</i>, for I dare say you would both take an +orra thought upon the gallows. Well, well, these days are fortunately by; and I +think (speaking humanly) that you are near the end of your troubles.” +</p> + +<p> +As he thus moralised on my adventures, he looked upon me with so much humour +and benignity that I could scarce contain my satisfaction. I had been so long +wandering with lawless people, and making my bed upon the hills and under the +bare sky, that to sit once more in a clean, covered house, and to talk amicably +with a gentleman in broadcloth, seemed mighty elevations. Even as I thought so, +my eye fell on my unseemly tatters, and I was once more plunged in confusion. +But the lawyer saw and understood me. He rose, called over the stair to lay +another plate, for Mr. Balfour would stay to dinner, and led me into a bedroom +in the upper part of the house. Here he set before me water and soap, and a +comb; and laid out some clothes that belonged to his son; and here, with +another apposite tag, he left me to my toilet. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0302.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XXVIII" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0028"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII<br/> +I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9302.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="I" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +aving made what change I could in my appearance; and blithe was I to look in +the glass and find the beggarman a thing of the past, and David Balfour come to +life again. And yet I was ashamed of the change too, and, above all, of the +borrowed clothes. When I had done, Mr. Rankeillor caught me on the stair, made +me his compliments, and had me again into the cabinet. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit ye down, Mr. David,” said he, “and now that you are looking a little more +like yourself, let me see if I can find you any news. You will be wondering, no +doubt, about your father and your uncle? To be sure it is a singular tale; and +the explanation is one that I blush to have to offer you. For,” says he, really +with embarrassment, “the matter hinges on a love affair.” +</p> + +<p> +“Truly,” said I, “I cannot very well join that notion with my uncle.” +</p> + +<p> +“But your uncle, Mr. David, was not always old,” replied the lawyer, “and what +may perhaps surprise you more, not always ugly. He had a fine, gallant air; +people stood in their doors to look after him, as he went by upon a mettle +horse. I have seen it with these eyes, and I ingenuously confess, not +altogether without envy; for I was a plain lad myself and a plain man’s son; +and in those days it was a case of <i>Odi te, qui bellus es, Sabelle</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“It sounds like a dream,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, ay,” said the lawyer, “that is how it is with youth and age. Nor was that +all, but he had a spirit of his own that seemed to promise great things in the +future. In 1715, what must he do but run away to join the rebels? It was your +father that pursued him, found him in a ditch, and brought him back <i>multum +gementem;</i> to the mirth of the whole country. However, <i>majora +canamus</i>—the two lads fell in love, and that with the same lady. Mr. +Ebenezer, who was the admired and the beloved, and the spoiled one, made, no +doubt, mighty certain of the victory; and when he found he had deceived +himself, screamed like a peacock. The whole country heard of it; now he lay +sick at home, with his silly family standing round the bed in tears; now he +rode from public-house to public-house, and shouted his sorrows into the lug of +Tom, Dick, and Harry. Your father, Mr. David, was a kind gentleman; but he was +weak, dolefully weak; took all this folly with a long countenance; and one +day—by your leave!—resigned the lady. She was no such fool, however; it’s from +her you must inherit your excellent good sense; and she refused to be bandied +from one to another. Both got upon their knees to her; and the upshot of the +matter for that while was that she showed both of them the door. That was in +August; dear me! the same year I came from college. The scene must have been +highly farcical.” +</p> + +<p> +I thought myself it was a silly business, but I could not forget my father had +a hand in it. “Surely, sir, it had some note of tragedy,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, no, sir, not at all,” returned the lawyer. “For tragedy implies some +ponderable matter in dispute, some <i>dignus vindice nodus;</i> and this piece +of work was all about the petulance of a young ass that had been spoiled, and +wanted nothing so much as to be tied up and soundly belted. However, that was +not your father’s view; and the end of it was, that from concession to +concession on your father’s part, and from one height to another of squalling, +sentimental selfishness upon your uncle’s, they came at last to drive a sort of +bargain, from whose ill results you have recently been smarting. The one man +took the lady, the other the estate. Now, Mr. David, they talk a great deal of +charity and generosity; but in this disputable state of life, I often think the +happiest consequences seem to flow when a gentleman consults his lawyer, and +takes all the law allows him. Anyhow, this piece of Quixotry on your father’s +part, as it was unjust in itself, has brought forth a monstrous family of +injustices. Your father and mother lived and died poor folk; you were poorly +reared; and in the meanwhile, what a time it has been for the tenants on the +estate of Shaws! And I might add (if it was a matter I cared much about) what a +time for Mr. Ebenezer!” +</p> + +<p> +“And yet that is certainly the strangest part of all,” said I, “that a man’s +nature should thus change.” +</p> + +<p> +“True,” said Mr. Rankeillor. “And yet I imagine it was natural enough. He could +not think that he had played a handsome part. Those who knew the story gave him +the cold shoulder; those who knew it not, seeing one brother disappear, and the +other succeed in the estate, raised a cry of murder; so that upon all sides he +found himself evited. Money was all he got by his bargain; well, he came to +think the more of money. He was selfish when he was young, he is selfish now +that he is old; and the latter end of all these pretty manners and fine +feelings you have seen for yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” said I, “and in all this, what is my position?” +</p> + +<p> +“The estate is yours beyond a doubt,” replied the lawyer. “It matters nothing +what your father signed, you are the heir of entail. But your uncle is a man to +fight the indefensible; and it would be likely your identity that he would call +in question. A lawsuit is always expensive, and a family lawsuit always +scandalous; besides which, if any of your doings with your friend Mr. Thomson +were to come out, we might find that we had burned our fingers. The kidnapping, +to be sure, would be a court card upon our side, if we could only prove it. But +it may be difficult to prove; and my advice (upon the whole) is to make a very +easy bargain with your uncle, perhaps even leaving him at Shaws where he has +taken root for a quarter of a century, and contenting yourself in the meanwhile +with a fair provision.” +</p> + +<p> +I told him I was very willing to be easy, and that to carry family concerns +before the public was a step from which I was naturally much averse. In the +meantime (thinking to myself) I began to see the outlines of that scheme on +which we afterwards acted. +</p> + +<p> +“The great affair,” I asked, “is to bring home to him the kidnapping?” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely,” said Mr. Rankeillor, “and if possible, out of court. For mark you +here, Mr. David: we could no doubt find some men of the <i>Covenant</i> who +would swear to your reclusion; but once they were in the box, we could no +longer check their testimony, and some word of your friend Mr. Thomson must +certainly crop out. Which (from what you have let fall) I cannot think to be +desirable.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” said I, “here is my way of it.” And I opened my plot to him. +</p> + +<p> +“But this would seem to involve my meeting the man Thomson?” says he, when I +had done. +</p> + +<p> +“I think so, indeed, sir,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear doctor!” cries he, rubbing his brow. “Dear doctor! No, Mr. David, I am +afraid your scheme is inadmissible. I say nothing against your friend, Mr. +Thomson: I know nothing against him; and if I did—mark this, Mr. David!—it +would be my duty to lay hands on him. Now I put it to you: is it wise to meet? +He may have matters to his charge. He may not have told you all. His name may +not be even Thomson!” cries the lawyer, twinkling; “for some of these fellows +will pick up names by the roadside as another would gather haws.” +</p> + +<p> +“You must be the judge, sir,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +But it was clear my plan had taken hold upon his fancy, for he kept musing to +himself till we were called to dinner and the company of Mrs. Rankeillor; and +that lady had scarce left us again to ourselves and a bottle of wine, ere he +was back harping on my proposal. When and where was I to meet my friend Mr. +Thomson; was I sure of Mr. T.‘s discretion; supposing we could catch the old +fox tripping, would I consent to such and such a term of an agreement—these and +the like questions he kept asking at long intervals, while he thoughtfully +rolled his wine upon his tongue. When I had answered all of them, seemingly to +his contentment, he fell into a still deeper muse, even the claret being now +forgotten. Then he got a sheet of paper and a pencil, and set to work writing +and weighing every word; and at last touched a bell and had his clerk into the +chamber. +</p> + +<p> +“Torrance,” said he, “I must have this written out fair against to-night; and +when it is done, you will be so kind as put on your hat and be ready to come +along with this gentleman and me, for you will probably be wanted as a +witness.” +</p> + +<p> +“What, sir,” cried I, as soon as the clerk was gone, “are you to venture it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, so it would appear,” says he, filling his glass. “But let us speak no +more of business. The very sight of Torrance brings in my head a little droll +matter of some years ago, when I had made a tryst with the poor oaf at the +cross of Edinburgh. Each had gone his proper errand; and when it came four +o’clock, Torrance had been taking a glass and did not know his master, and I, +who had forgot my spectacles, was so blind without them, that I give you my +word I did not know my own clerk.” And thereupon he laughed heartily. +</p> + +<p> +I said it was an odd chance, and smiled out of politeness; but what held me all +the afternoon in wonder, he kept returning and dwelling on this story, and +telling it again with fresh details and laughter; so that I began at last to be +quite put out of countenance and feel ashamed for my friend’s folly. +</p> + +<p> +Towards the time I had appointed with Alan, we set out from the house, Mr. +Rankeillor and I arm in arm, and Torrance following behind with the deed in his +pocket and a covered basket in his hand. All through the town, the lawyer was +bowing right and left, and continually being button-holed by gentlemen on +matters of burgh or private business; and I could see he was one greatly looked +up to in the county. At last we were clear of the houses, and began to go along +the side of the haven and towards the Hawes Inn and the Ferry pier, the scene +of my misfortune. I could not look upon the place without emotion, recalling +how many that had been there with me that day were now no more: Ransome taken, +I could hope, from the evil to come; Shuan passed where I dared not follow him; +and the poor souls that had gone down with the brig in her last plunge. All +these, and the brig herself, I had outlived; and come through these hardships +and fearful perils without scath. My only thought should have been of +gratitude; and yet I could not behold the place without sorrow for others and a +chill of recollected fear. +</p> + +<p> +I was so thinking when, upon a sudden, Mr. Rankeillor cried out, clapped his +hand to his pockets, and began to laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” he cries, “if this be not a farcical adventure! After all that I said, I +have forgot my glasses!” +</p> + +<p> +At that, of course, I understood the purpose of his anecdote, and knew that if +he had left his spectacles at home, it had been done on purpose, so that he +might have the benefit of Alan’s help without the awkwardness of recognising +him. And indeed it was well thought upon; for now (suppose things to go the +very worst) how could Rankeillor swear to my friend’s identity, or how be made +to bear damaging evidence against myself? For all that, he had been a long +while of finding out his want, and had spoken to and recognised a good few +persons as we came through the town; and I had little doubt myself that he saw +reasonably well. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as we were past the Hawes (where I recognised the landlord smoking his +pipe in the door, and was amazed to see him look no older) Mr. Rankeillor +changed the order of march, walking behind with Torrance and sending me forward +in the manner of a scout. I went up the hill, whistling from time to time my +Gaelic air; and at length I had the pleasure to hear it answered and to see +Alan rise from behind a bush. He was somewhat dashed in spirits, having passed +a long day alone skulking in the county, and made but a poor meal in an +alehouse near Dundas. But at the mere sight of my clothes, he began to brighten +up; and as soon as I had told him in what a forward state our matters were and +the part I looked to him to play in what remained, he sprang into a new man. +</p> + +<p> +“And that is a very good notion of yours,” says he; “and I dare to say that you +could lay your hands upon no better man to put it through than Alan Breck. It +is not a thing (mark ye) that any one could do, but takes a gentleman of +penetration. But it sticks in my head your lawyer-man will be somewhat wearying +to see me,” says Alan. +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly I cried and waved on Mr. Rankeillor, who came up alone and was +presented to my friend, Mr. Thomson. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Thomson, I am pleased to meet you,” said he. “But I have forgotten my +glasses; and our friend, Mr. David here” (clapping me on the shoulder), “will +tell you that I am little better than blind, and that you must not be surprised +if I pass you by to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +This he said, thinking that Alan would be pleased; but the Highlandman’s vanity +was ready to startle at a less matter than that. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, sir,” says he, stiffly, “I would say it mattered the less as we are met +here for a particular end, to see justice done to Mr. Balfour; and by what I +can see, not very likely to have much else in common. But I accept your +apology, which was a very proper one to make.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that is more than I could look for, Mr. Thomson,” said Rankeillor, +heartily. “And now as you and I are the chief actors in this enterprise, I +think we should come into a nice agreement; to which end, I propose that you +should lend me your arm, for (what with the dusk and the want of my glasses) I +am not very clear as to the path; and as for you, Mr. David, you will find +Torrance a pleasant kind of body to speak with. Only let me remind you, it’s +quite needless he should hear more of your adventures or those of—ahem—Mr. +Thomson.” +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly these two went on ahead in very close talk, and Torrance and I +brought up the rear. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0309.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="These two went on ahead in +very close talk, and Torrance and I brought up the rear" /> +</div> + +<p> +Night was quite come when we came in view of the house of Shaws. Ten had been +gone some time; it was dark and mild, with a pleasant, rustling wind in the +south-west that covered the sound of our approach; and as we drew near we saw +no glimmer of light in any portion of the building. It seemed my uncle was +already in bed, which was indeed the best thing for our arrangements. We made +our last whispered consultations some fifty yards away; and then the lawyer and +Torrance and I crept quietly up and crouched down beside the corner of the +house; and as soon as we were in our places, Alan strode to the door without +concealment and began to knock. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0312.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XXIX" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0029"></a>CHAPTER XXIX<br/> +I COME INTO MY KINGDOM</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9312.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="F " width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +or some time Alan volleyed upon the door, and his knocking only roused the +echoes of the house and neighbourhood. At last, however, I could hear the noise +of a window gently thrust up, and knew that my uncle had come to his +observatory. By what light there was, he would see Alan standing, like a dark +shadow, on the steps; the three witnesses were hidden quite out of his view; so +that there was nothing to alarm an honest man in his own house. For all that, +he studied his visitor awhile in silence, and when he spoke his voice had a +quaver of misgiving. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s this?” says he. “This is nae kind of time of night for decent folk; and +I hae nae trokings<a href="#fn34" name="fnref34"><sup>[34]</sup></a> wi’ +night-hawks. What brings ye here? I have a blunderbush.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn34"></a> <a href="#fnref34">[34]</a> +Dealings. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that yoursel’, Mr. Balfour?” returned Alan, stepping back and looking up +into the darkness. “Have a care of that blunderbuss; they’re nasty things to +burst.” +</p> + +<p> +“What brings ye here? and whae are ye?” says my uncle, angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“I have no manner of inclination to rowt out my name to the country-side,” said +Alan; “but what brings me here is another story, being more of your affair than +mine; and if ye’re sure it’s what ye would like, I’ll set it to a tune and sing +it to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what is’t?” asked my uncle. +</p> + +<p> +“David,” says Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“What was that?” cried my uncle, in a mighty changed voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I give ye the rest of the name, then?” said Alan. +</p> + +<p> +There was a pause; and then, “I’m thinking I’ll better let ye in,” says my +uncle, doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say that,” said Alan; “but the point is, Would I go? Now I will tell +you what I am thinking. I am thinking that it is here upon this doorstep that +we must confer upon this business; and it shall be here or nowhere at all +whatever; for I would have you to understand that I am as stiffnecked as +yoursel’, and a gentleman of better family.” +</p> + +<p> +This change of note disconcerted Ebenezer; he was a little while digesting it, +and then says he, “Weel, weel, what must be must,” and shut the window. But it +took him a long time to get down-stairs, and a still longer to undo the +fastenings, repenting (I dare say) and taken with fresh claps of fear at every +second step and every bolt and bar. At last, however, we heard the creak of the +hinges, and it seems my uncle slipped gingerly out and (seeing that Alan had +stepped back a pace or two) sate him down on the top doorstep with the +blunderbuss ready in his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“And, now” says he, “mind I have my blunderbush, and if ye take a step nearer +ye’re as good as deid.” +</p> + +<p> +“And a very civil speech,” says Alan, “to be sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Na,” says my uncle, “but this is no a very chanty kind of a proceeding, and +I’m bound to be prepared. And now that we understand each other, ye’ll can name +your business.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” says Alan, “you that are a man of so much understanding, will doubtless +have perceived that I am a Hieland gentleman. My name has nae business in my +story; but the county of my friends is no very far from the Isle of Mull, of +which ye will have heard. It seems there was a ship lost in those parts; and +the next day a gentleman of my family was seeking wreck-wood for his fire along +the sands, when he came upon a lad that was half drowned. Well, he brought him +to; and he and some other gentleman took and clapped him in an auld, ruined +castle, where from that day to this he has been a great expense to my friends. +My friends are a wee wild-like, and not so particular about the law as some +that I could name; and finding that the lad owned some decent folk, and was +your born nephew, Mr. Balfour, they asked me to give ye a bit call and confer +upon the matter. And I may tell ye at the off-go, unless we can agree upon some +terms, ye are little likely to set eyes upon him. For my friends,” added Alan, +simply, “are no very well off.” +</p> + +<p> +My uncle cleared his throat. “I’m no very caring,” says he. “He wasnae a good +lad at the best of it, and I’ve nae call to interfere.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, ay,” said Alan, “I see what ye would be at: pretending ye don’t care, to +make the ransom smaller.” +</p> + +<p> +“Na,” said my uncle, “it’s the mere truth. I take nae manner of interest in the +lad, and I’ll pay nae ransome, and ye can make a kirk and a mill of him for +what I care.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hoot, sir,” says Alan. “Blood’s thicker than water, in the deil’s name! Ye +cannae desert your brother’s son for the fair shame of it; and if ye did, and +it came to be kennt, ye wouldnae be very popular in your country-side, or I’m +the more deceived.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m no just very popular the way it is,” returned Ebenezer; “and I dinnae see +how it would come to be kennt. No by me, onyway; nor yet by you or your +friends. So that’s idle talk, my buckie,” says he. +</p> + +<p> +“Then it’ll have to be David that tells it,” said Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“How that?” says my uncle, sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“Ou, just this way,” says Alan. “My friends would doubtless keep your nephew as +long as there was any likelihood of siller to be made of it, but if there was +nane, I am clearly of opinion they would let him gang where he pleased, and be +damned to him!” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, but I’m no very caring about that either,” said my uncle. “I wouldnae be +muckle made up with that.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was thinking that,” said Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“And what for why?” asked Ebenezer. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Mr. Balfour,” replied Alan, “by all that I could hear, there were two +ways of it: either ye liked David and would pay to get him back; or else ye had +very good reasons for not wanting him, and would pay for us to keep him. It +seems it’s not the first; well then, it’s the second; and blythe am I to ken +it, for it should be a pretty penny in my pocket and the pockets of my +friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“I dinnae follow ye there,” said my uncle. +</p> + +<p> +“No?” said Alan. “Well, see here: you dinnae want the lad back; well, what do +ye want done with him, and how much will ye pay?” +</p> + +<p> +My uncle made no answer, but shifted uneasily on his seat. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, sir,” cried Alan. “I would have you to ken that I am a gentleman; I bear +a king’s name; I am nae rider to kick my shanks at your hall door. Either give +me an answer in civility, and that out of hand; or by the top of Glencoe, I +will ram three feet of iron through your vitals.” +</p> + +<p> +“Eh, man,” cried my uncle, scrambling to his feet, “give me a meenit! What’s +like wrong with ye? I’m just a plain man and nae dancing master; and I’m tryin +to be as ceevil as it’s morally possible. As for that wild talk, it’s fair +disrepitable. Vitals, says you! And where would I be with my blunderbush?” he +snarled. +</p> + +<p> +“Powder and your auld hands are but as the snail to the swallow against the +bright steel in the hands of Alan,” said the other. “Before your jottering +finger could find the trigger, the hilt would dirl on your breast-bane.” +</p> + +<p> +“Eh, man, whae’s denying it?” said my uncle. “Pit it as ye please, hae’t your +ain way; I’ll do naething to cross ye. Just tell me what like ye’ll be wanting, +and ye’ll see that we’ll can agree fine.” +</p> + +<p> +“Troth, sir,” said Alan, “I ask for nothing but plain dealing. In two words: do +ye want the lad killed or kept?” +</p> + +<p> +“O, sirs!” cried Ebenezer. “O, sirs, me! that’s no kind of language!” +</p> + +<p> +“Killed or kept!” repeated Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“O, keepit, keepit!” wailed my uncle. “We’ll have nae bloodshed, if you +please.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” says Alan, “as ye please; that’ll be the dearer.” +</p> + +<p> +“The dearer?” cries Ebenezer. “Would ye fyle your hands wi’ crime?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hoot!” said Alan, “they’re baith crime, whatever! And the killing’s easier, +and quicker, and surer. Keeping the lad’ll be a fashious<a href="#fn35" +name="fnref35"><sup>[35]</sup></a> job, a fashious, kittle business.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn35"></a> <a href="#fnref35">[35]</a> +Troublesome. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll have him keepit, though,” returned my uncle. “I never had naething to do +with onything morally wrong; and I’m no gaun to begin to pleasure a wild +Hielandman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ye’re unco scrupulous,” sneered Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m a man o’ principle,” said Ebenezer, simply; “and if I have to pay for it, +I’ll have to pay for it. And besides,” says he, “ye forget the lad’s my +brother’s son.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well,” said Alan, “and now about the price. It’s no very easy for me to +set a name upon it; I would first have to ken some small matters. I would have +to ken, for instance, what ye gave Hoseason at the first off-go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hoseason!” cries my uncle, struck aback. “What for?” +</p> + +<p> +“For kidnapping David,” says Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a lee, it’s a black lee!” cried my uncle. “He was never kidnapped. He +leed in his throat that tauld ye that. Kidnapped? He never was!” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s no fault of mine nor yet of yours,” said Alan; “nor yet of Hoseason’s, +if he’s a man that can be trusted.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do ye mean?” cried Ebenezer. “Did Hoseason tell ye?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, ye donnered auld runt, how else would I ken?” cried Alan. “Hoseason and +me are partners; we gang shares; so ye can see for yoursel’ what good ye can do +leeing. And I must plainly say ye drove a fool’s bargain when ye let a man like +the sailor-man so far forward in your private matters. But that’s past praying +for; and ye must lie on your bed the way ye made it. And the point in hand is +just this: what did ye pay him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Has he tauld ye himsel’?” asked my uncle. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s my concern,” said Alan. +</p> + +<p> +“Weel,” said my uncle, “I dinnae care what he said, he leed, and the solemn +God’s truth is this, that I gave him twenty pound. But I’ll be perfec’ly honest +with ye: forby that, he was to have the selling of the lad in Caroliny, whilk +would be as muckle mair, but no from my pocket, ye see.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Mr. Thomson. That will do excellently well,” said the lawyer, +stepping forward; and then mighty civilly, “Good-evening, Mr. Balfour,” said +he. +</p> + +<p> +And, “Good-evening, Uncle Ebenezer,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +And, “It’s a braw nicht, Mr. Balfour,” added Torrance. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0317.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="My uncle just sat where he +was on the top doorstep and stared upon us like a man turned to stone" /> +</div> + +<p> +Never a word said my uncle, neither black nor white; but just sat where he was +on the top door-step and stared upon us like a man turned to stone. Alan +filched away his blunderbuss; and the lawyer, taking him by the arm, plucked +him up from the doorstep, led him into the kitchen, whither we all followed, +and set him down in a chair beside the hearth, where the fire was out and only +a rush-light burning. +</p> + +<p> +There we all looked upon him for a while, exulting greatly in our success, but +yet with a sort of pity for the man’s shame. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, Mr. Ebenezer,” said the lawyer, “you must not be down-hearted, for +I promise you we shall make easy terms. In the meanwhile give us the cellar +key, and Torrance shall draw us a bottle of your father’s wine in honour of the +event.” Then, turning to me and taking me by the hand, “Mr. David,” says he, “I +wish you all joy in your good fortune, which I believe to be deserved.” And +then to Alan, with a spice of drollery, “Mr. Thomson, I pay you my compliment; +it was most artfully conducted; but in one point you somewhat outran my +comprehension. Do I understand your name to be James? or Charles? or is it +George, perhaps?” +</p> + +<p> +“And why should it be any of the three, sir?” quoth Alan, drawing himself up, +like one who smelt an offence. +</p> + +<p> +“Only, sir, that you mentioned a king’s name,” replied Rankeillor; “and as +there has never yet been a King Thomson, or his fame at least has never come my +way, I judged you must refer to that you had in baptism.” +</p> + +<p> +This was just the stab that Alan would feel keenest, and I am free to confess +he took it very ill. Not a word would he answer, but stepped off to the far end +of the kitchen, and sat down and sulked; and it was not till I stepped after +him, and gave him my hand, and thanked him by title as the chief spring of my +success, that he began to smile a bit, and was at last prevailed upon to join +our party. +</p> + +<p> +By that time we had the fire lighted, and a bottle of wine uncorked; a good +supper came out of the basket, to which Torrance and I and Alan set ourselves +down; while the lawyer and my uncle passed into the next chamber to consult. +They stayed there closeted about an hour; at the end of which period they had +come to a good understanding, and my uncle and I set our hands to the agreement +in a formal manner. By the terms of this, my uncle bound himself to satisfy +Rankeillor as to his intromissions, and to pay me two clear thirds of the +yearly income of Shaws. +</p> + +<p> +So the beggar in the ballad had come home; and when I lay down that night on +the kitchen chests, I was a man of means and had a name in the country. Alan +and Torrance and Rankeillor slept and snored on their hard beds; but for me who +had lain out under heaven and upon dirt and stones, so many days and nights, +and often with an empty belly, and in fear of death, this good change in my +case unmanned me more than any of the former evil ones; and I lay till dawn, +looking at the fire on the roof and planning the future. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0322.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Chapter XXX" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0030"></a>CHAPTER XXX<br/> +GOOD-BYE</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> +<img src="images/9322.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="S" width="100%" /> +</div> + +<p class="noindent"> +o far as I was concerned myself, I had come to port; but I had still Alan, to +whom I was so much beholden, on my hands; and I felt besides a heavy charge in +the matter of the murder and James of the Glens. On both these heads I +unbosomed to Rankeillor the next morning, walking to and fro about six of the +clock before the house of Shaws, and with nothing in view but the fields and +woods that had been my ancestors’ and were now mine. Even as I spoke on these +grave subjects, my eye would take a glad bit of a run over the prospect, and my +heart jump with pride. +</p> + +<p> +About my clear duty to my friend, the lawyer had no doubt. I must help him out +of the county at whatever risk; but in the case of James, he was of a different +mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Thomson,” says he, “is one thing, Mr. Thomson’s kinsman quite another. I +know little of the facts, but I gather that a great noble (whom we will call, +if you like, the D. of A.)<a href="#fn36" name="fnref36"><sup>[36]</sup></a> +has some concern and is even supposed to feel some animosity in the matter. The +D. of A. is doubtless an excellent nobleman; but, Mr. David, <i>timeo qui +nocuere deos</i>. If you interfere to balk his vengeance, you should remember +there is one way to shut your testimony out; and that is to put you in the +dock. There, you would be in the same pickle as Mr. Thomson’s kinsman. You will +object that you are innocent; well, but so is he. And to be tried for your life +before a Highland jury, on a Highland quarrel and with a Highland Judge upon +the bench, would be a brief transition to the gallows.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn36"></a> <a href="#fnref36">[36]</a> +The Duke of Argyle. +</p> + +<p> +Now I had made all these reasonings before and found no very good reply to +them; so I put on all the simplicity I could. “In that case, sir,” said I, “I +would just have to be hanged—would I not?” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear boy,” cries he, “go in God’s name, and do what you think is right. It +is a poor thought that at my time of life I should be advising you to choose +the safe and shameful; and I take it back with an apology. Go and do your duty; +and be hanged, if you must, like a gentleman. There are worse things in the +world than to be hanged.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not many, sir,” said I, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, yes, sir,” he cried, “very many. And it would be ten times better for +your uncle (to go no farther afield) if he were dangling decently upon a +gibbet.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon he turned into the house (still in a great fervour of mind, so that I +saw I had pleased him heartily) and there he wrote me two letters, making his +comments on them as he wrote. +</p> + +<p> +“This,” says he, “is to my bankers, the British Linen Company, placing a credit +to your name. Consult Mr. Thomson, he will know of ways; and you, with this +credit, can supply the means. I trust you will be a good husband of your money; +but in the affair of a friend like Mr. Thomson, I would be even prodigal. Then +for his kinsman, there is no better way than that you should seek the Advocate, +tell him your tale, and offer testimony; whether he may take it or not, is +quite another matter, and will turn on the D. of A. Now, that you may reach the +Lord Advocate well recommended, I give you here a letter to a namesake of your +own, the learned Mr. Balfour of Pilrig, a man whom I esteem. It will look +better that you should be presented by one of your own name; and the laird of +Pilrig is much looked up to in the Faculty and stands well with Lord Advocate +Grant. I would not trouble him, if I were you, with any particulars; and (do +you know?) I think it would be needless to refer to Mr. Thomson. Form yourself +upon the laird, he is a good model; when you deal with the Advocate, be +discreet; and in all these matters, may the Lord guide you, Mr. David!” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon he took his farewell, and set out with Torrance for the Ferry, while +Alan and I turned our faces for the city of Edinburgh. As we went by the +footpath and beside the gateposts and the unfinished lodge, we kept looking +back at the house of my fathers. It stood there, bare and great and smokeless, +like a place not lived in; only in one of the top windows, there was the peak +of a nightcap bobbing up and down and back and forward, like the head of a +rabbit from a burrow. I had little welcome when I came, and less kindness while +I stayed; but at least I was watched as I went away. +</p> + +<p> +Alan and I went slowly forward upon our way, having little heart either to walk +or speak. The same thought was uppermost in both, that we were near the time of +our parting; and remembrance of all the bygone days sate upon us sorely. We +talked indeed of what should be done; and it was resolved that Alan should keep +to the county, biding now here, now there, but coming once in the day to a +particular place where I might be able to communicate with him, either in my +own person or by messenger. In the meanwhile, I was to seek out a lawyer, who +was an Appin Stewart, and a man therefore to be wholly trusted; and it should +be his part to find a ship and to arrange for Alan’s safe embarkation. No +sooner was this business done, than the words seemed to leave us; and though I +would seek to jest with Alan under the name of Mr. Thomson, and he with me on +my new clothes and my estate, you could feel very well that we were nearer +tears than laughter. +</p> + +<p> +We came the by-way over the hill of Corstorphine; and when we got near to the +place called Rest-and-be-Thankful, and looked down on Corstorphine bogs and +over to the city and the castle on the hill, we both stopped, for we both knew +without a word said that we had come to where our ways parted. Here he repeated +to me once again what had been agreed upon between us: the address of the +lawyer, the daily hour at which Alan might be found, and the signals that were +to be made by any that came seeking him. Then I gave what money I had (a guinea +or two of Rankeillor’s) so that he should not starve in the meanwhile; and then +we stood a space, and looked over at Edinburgh in silence. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, good-bye,” said Alan, and held out his left hand. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/0325.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Well, good-by, said Alan, +and held out his left hand" /> +</div> + +<p> +“Good-bye,” said I, and gave the hand a little grasp, and went off down hill. +</p> + +<p> +Neither one of us looked the other in the face, nor so long as he was in my +view did I take one back glance at the friend I was leaving. But as I went on +my way to the city, I felt so lost and lonesome, that I could have found it in +my heart to sit down by the dyke, and cry and weep like any baby. +</p> + +<p> +It was coming near noon when I passed in by the West Kirk and the Grassmarket +into the streets of the capital. The huge height of the buildings, running up +to ten and fifteen storeys, the narrow arched entries that continually vomited +passengers, the wares of the merchants in their windows, the hubbub and endless +stir, the foul smells and the fine clothes, and a hundred other particulars too +small to mention, struck me into a kind of stupor of surprise, so that I let +the crowd carry me to and fro; and yet all the time what I was thinking of was +Alan at Rest-and-be-Thankful; and all the time (although you would think I +would not choose but be delighted with these braws and novelties) there was a +cold gnawing in my inside like a remorse for something wrong. +</p> + +<p> +The hand of Providence brought me in my drifting to the very doors of the +British Linen Company’s bank. +</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 421 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + diff --git a/421-h/images/0010.jpg b/421-h/images/0010.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..60188b2 --- 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L. Stevenson + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Kidnapped, by Robert Louis Stevenson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Kidnapped + +Author: Robert Louis Stevenson + +Release Date: January 16, 2006 [EBook #421] +Last Updated: July 9, 2014 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KIDNAPPED *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + KIDNAPPED + </h1> +<h2>By Robert Louis Stevenson</h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> +<h3>Illustrated by Louis Rhead</h3> +<p> + <br /> + </p> +<hr /> +<p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + BEING<br /> MEMOIRS OF THE ADVENTURES OF<br /> DAVID BALFOUR<br /> IN THE + YEAR 1751<br /> HOW HE WAS KIDNAPPED AND CAST AWAY; HIS SUFFERINGS IN<br /> + A DESERT ISLE; HIS JOURNEY IN THE WILD HIGHLANDS;<br /> HIS ACQUAINTANCE + WITH ALAN BRECK STEWART<br /> AND OTHER NOTORIOUS HIGHLAND JACOBITES;<br /> + WITH ALL THAT HE SUFFERED AT THE<br /> HANDS OF HIS UNCLE, EBENEZER<br /> + BALFOUR OF SHAWS, FALSELY<br /> SO CALLED<br /><br /> WRITTEN BY HIMSELF AND + NOW SET FORTH BY<br /> ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON<br /> WITH A PREFACE BY MRS. + STEVENSON<br /> + </h3> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0010m.jpg" alt="0010m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0010.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0011m.jpg" alt="0011m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0011.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0013m.jpg" alt="0013m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0013.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE TO THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> DEDICATION </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0003"> + CHAPTER III </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0007"> + CHAPTER VII </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0011"> + CHAPTER XI </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0016"> + CHAPTER XVI </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0021"> + CHAPTER XXI </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a> + </td> + <td> + I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS <br /><br /> I COME TO + MY JOURNEY'S END <br /><br /> I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE <br /><br /> + I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS <br /><br /> I GO TO THE + QUEEN'S FERRY <br /><br /> WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN'S FERRY <br /><br /> I + GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG "COVENANT" OF DYSART <br /><br /> THE ROUND-HOUSE + <br /><br /> THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD <br /><br /> THE SIEGE OF THE + ROUND-HOUSE <br /><br /> THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER <br /><br /> I HEAR OF + THE "RED FOX" <br /><br /> THE LOSS OF THE BRIG <br /><br /> THE ISLET + <br /><br /> THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL + <br /><br /> THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN <br /><br /> + THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX <br /><br /> TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF + LETTERMORE <br /><br /> THE HOUSE OF FEAR <br /><br /> THE FLIGHT IN THE + HEATHER: THE ROCKS <br /><br /> THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF + CORRYNAKIEGH <br /><br /> THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR <br /><br /> + CLUNY'S CAGE <br /><br /> THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER <br /><br /> THE + QUARREL IN BALQUHIDDER <br /><br /> END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH + <br /><br /> I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR <br /><br /> I GO IN QUEST OF MY + INHERITANCE <br /><br /> I COME INTO MY KINGDOM <br /><br /> GOOD-BYE + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0015m.jpg" alt="0015m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0015.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PREFACE TO THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION + </h2> + <p> + While my husband and Mr. Henley were engaged in writing plays in + Bournemouth they made a number of titles, hoping to use them in the + future. Dramatic composition was not what my husband preferred, but the + torrent of Mr. Henley's enthusiasm swept him off his feet. However, after + several plays had been finished, and his health seriously impaired by his + endeavours to keep up with Mr. Henley, play writing was abandoned forever, + and my husband returned to his legitimate vocation. Having added one of + the titles, The Hanging Judge, to the list of projected plays, now thrown + aside, and emboldened by my husband's offer to give me any help needed, I + concluded to try and write it myself. + </p> + <p> + As I wanted a trial scene in the Old Bailey, I chose the period of 1700 + for my purpose; but being shamefully ignorant of my subject, and my + husband confessing to little more knowledge than I possessed, a London + bookseller was commissioned to send us everything he could procure bearing + on Old Bailey trials. A great package came in response to our order, and + very soon we were both absorbed, not so much in the trials as in following + the brilliant career of a Mr. Garrow, who appeared as counsel in many of + the cases. We sent for more books, and yet more, still intent on Mr. + Garrow, whose subtle cross-examination of witnesses and masterly, if + sometimes startling, methods of arriving at the truth seemed more + thrilling to us than any novel. + </p> + <p> + Occasionally other trials than those of the Old Bailey would be included + in the package of books we received from London; among these my husband + found and read with avidity:— + </p> + <h4> + THE,<br /> TRIAL<br /> OF<br /> JAMES STEWART<br /> in Aucharn in Duror of + Appin<br /> FOR THE<br /> Murder of COLIN CAMPBELL of Glenure, Efq;<br /> + Factor for His Majefty on the forfeited<br /> Estate of Ardfhiel. + </h4> + <p> + My husband was always interested in this period of his country's history, + and had already the intention of writing a story that should turn on the + Appin murder. The tale was to be of a boy, David Balfour, supposed to + belong to my husband's own family, who should travel in Scotland as though + it were a foreign country, meeting with various adventures and + misadventures by the way. From the trial of James Stewart my husband + gleaned much valuable material for his novel, the most important being the + character of Alan Breck. Aside from having described him as "smallish in + stature," my husband seems to have taken Alan Breck's personal appearance, + even to his clothing, from the book. + </p> + <p> + A letter from James Stewart to Mr. John Macfarlane, introduced as evidence + in the trial, says: "There is one Alan Stewart, a distant friend of the + late Ardshiel's, who is in the French service, and came over in March + last, as he said to some, in order to settle at home; to others, that he + was to go soon back; and was, as I hear, the day that the murder was + committed, seen not far from the place where it happened, and is not now + to be seen; by which it is believed he was the actor. He is a desperate + foolish fellow; and if he is guilty, came to the country for that very + purpose. He is a tall, pock-pitted lad, very black hair, and wore a blue + coat and metal buttons, an old red vest, and breeches of the same colour." + A second witness testified to having seen him wearing "a blue coat with + silver buttons, a red waistcoat, black shag breeches, tartan hose, and a + feathered hat, with a big coat, dun coloured," a costume referred to by + one of the counsel as "French cloathes which were remarkable." + </p> + <p> + There are many incidents given in the trial that point to Alan's fiery + spirit and Highland quickness to take offence. One witness "declared also + That the said Alan Breck threatened that he would challenge Ballieveolan + and his sons to fight because of his removing the declarant last year from + Glenduror." On another page: "Duncan Campbell, change-keeper at Annat, + aged thirty-five years, married, witness cited, sworn, purged and examined + ut supra, depones, That, in the month of April last, the deponent met with + Alan Breck Stewart, with whom he was not acquainted, and John Stewart, in + Auchnacoan, in the house of the walk miller of Auchofragan, and went on + with them to the house: Alan Breck Stewart said, that he hated all the + name of Campbell; and the deponent said, he had no reason for doing so: + But Alan said, he had very good reason for it: that thereafter they left + that house; and, after drinking a dram at another house, came to the + deponent's house, where they went in, and drunk some drams, and Alan Breck + renewed the former Conversation; and the deponent, making the same answer, + Alan said, that, if the deponent had any respect for his friends, he would + tell them, that if they offered to turn out the possessors of Ardshiel's + estate, he would make black cocks of them, before they entered into + possession by which the deponent understood shooting them, it being a + common phrase in the country." + </p> + <p> + Some time after the publication of Kidnapped we stopped for a short while + in the Appin country, where we were surprised and interested to discover + that the feeling concerning the murder of Glenure (the "Red Fox," also + called "Colin Roy") was almost as keen as though the tragedy had taken + place the day before. For several years my husband received letters of + expostulation or commendation from members of the Campbell and Stewart + clans. I have in my possession a paper, yellow with age, that was sent + soon after the novel appeared, containing "The Pedigree of the Family of + Appine," wherein it is said that "Alan 3rd Baron of Appine was not killed + at Flowdoun, tho there, but lived to a great old age. He married Cameron + Daughter to Ewen Cameron of Lochiel." Following this is a paragraph + stating that "John Stewart 1st of Ardsheall of his descendants Alan Breck + had better be omitted. Duncan Baan Stewart in Achindarroch his father was + a Bastard." + </p> + <p> + One day, while my husband was busily at work, I sat beside him reading an + old cookery book called The Compleat Housewife: or Accomplish'd + Gentlewoman's Companion. In the midst of receipts for "Rabbits, and + Chickens mumbled, Pickled Samphire, Skirret Pye, Baked Tansy," and other + forgotten delicacies, there were directions for the preparation of several + lotions for the preservation of beauty. One of these was so charming that + I interrupted my husband to read it aloud. "Just what I wanted!" he + exclaimed; and the receipt for the "Lily of the Valley Water" was + instantly incorporated into Kidnapped. + </p> + <p> + F. V. DE G. S. <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DEDICATION + </h2> + <h4> + MY DEAR CHARLES BAXTER: + </h4> + <p> + If you ever read this tale, you will likely ask yourself more questions + than I should care to answer: as for instance how the Appin murder has + come to fall in the year 1751, how the Torran rocks have crept so near to + Earraid, or why the printed trial is silent as to all that touches David + Balfour. These are nuts beyond my ability to crack. But if you tried me on + the point of Alan's guilt or innocence, I think I could defend the reading + of the text. To this day you will find the tradition of Appin clear in + Alan's favour. If you inquire, you may even hear that the descendants of + "the other man" who fired the shot are in the country to this day. But + that other man's name, inquire as you please, you shall not hear; for the + Highlander values a secret for itself and for the congenial exercise of + keeping it. I might go on for long to justify one point and own another + indefensible; it is more honest to confess at once how little I am touched + by the desire of accuracy. This is no furniture for the scholar's library, + but a book for the winter evening school-room when the tasks are over and + the hour for bed draws near; and honest Alan, who was a grim old + fire-eater in his day has in this new avatar no more desperate purpose + than to steal some young gentleman's attention from his Ovid, carry him + awhile into the Highlands and the last century, and pack him to bed with + some engaging images to mingle with his dreams. + </p> + <p> + As for you, my dear Charles, I do not even ask you to like this tale. But + perhaps when he is older, your son will; he may then be pleased to find + his father's name on the fly-leaf; and in the meanwhile it pleases me to + set it there, in memory of many days that were happy and some (now perhaps + as pleasant to remember) that were sad. If it is strange for me to look + back from a distance both in time and space on these bygone adventures of + our youth, it must be stranger for you who tread the same streets—who + may to-morrow open the door of the old Speculative, where we begin to rank + with Scott and Robert Emmet and the beloved and inglorious Macbean—or + may pass the corner of the close where that great society, the L. J. R., + held its meetings and drank its beer, sitting in the seats of Burns and + his companions. I think I see you, moving there by plain daylight, + beholding with your natural eyes those places that have now become for + your companion a part of the scenery of dreams. How, in the intervals of + present business, the past must echo in your memory! Let it not echo often + without some kind thoughts of your friend, + </p> + <p> + R.L.S. SKERRYVORE, BOURNEMOUTH. <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0021m.jpg" alt="0021m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0021.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9021m.jpg" alt="9021m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9021.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in + the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the + last time out of the door of my father's house. The sun began to shine + upon the summit of the hills as I went down the road; and by the time I + had come as far as the manse, the blackbirds were whistling in the garden + lilacs, and the mist that hung around the valley in the time of the dawn + was beginning to arise and die away. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Campbell, the minister of Essendean, was waiting for me by the garden + gate, good man! He asked me if I had breakfasted; and hearing that I + lacked for nothing, he took my hand in both of his and clapped it kindly + under his arm. + </p> + <p> + "Well, Davie, lad," said he, "I will go with you as far as the ford, to + set you on the way." And we began to walk forward in silence. + </p> + <p> + "Are ye sorry to leave Essendean?" said he, after awhile. + </p> + <p> + "Why, sir," said I, "if I knew where I was going, or what was likely to + become of me, I would tell you candidly. Essendean is a good place indeed, + and I have been very happy there; but then I have never been anywhere + else. My father and mother, since they are both dead, I shall be no nearer + to in Essendean than in the Kingdom of Hungary, and, to speak truth, if I + thought I had a chance to better myself where I was going I would go with + a good will." + </p> + <p> + "Ay?" said Mr. Campbell. "Very well, Davie. Then it behoves me to tell + your fortune; or so far as I may. When your mother was gone, and your + father (the worthy, Christian man) began to sicken for his end, he gave me + in charge a certain letter, which he said was your inheritance. 'So soon,' + says he, 'as I am gone, and the house is redd up and the gear disposed of' + (all which, Davie, hath been done), 'give my boy this letter into his + hand, and start him off to the house of Shaws, not far from Cramond. That + is the place I came from,' he said, 'and it's where it befits that my boy + should return. He is a steady lad,' your father said, 'and a canny goer; + and I doubt not he will come safe, and be well lived where he goes.'" + </p> + <p> + "The house of Shaws!" I cried. "What had my poor father to do with the + house of Shaws?" + </p> + <p> + "Nay," said Mr. Campbell, "who can tell that for a surety? But the name of + that family, Davie, boy, is the name you bear—Balfours of Shaws: an + ancient, honest, reputable house, peradventure in these latter days + decayed. Your father, too, was a man of learning as befitted his position; + no man more plausibly conducted school; nor had he the manner or the + speech of a common dominie; but (as ye will yourself remember) I took aye + a pleasure to have him to the manse to meet the gentry; and those of my + own house, Campbell of Kilrennet, Campbell of Dunswire, Campbell of Minch, + and others, all well-kenned gentlemen, had pleasure in his society. + Lastly, to put all the elements of this affair before you, here is the + testamentary letter itself, superscrived by the own hand of our departed + brother." + </p> + <p> + He gave me the letter, which was addressed in these words: "To the hands + of Ebenezer Balfour, Esquire, of Shaws, in his house of Shaws, these will + be delivered by my son, David Balfour." My heart was beating hard at this + great prospect now suddenly opening before a lad of seventeen years of + age, the son of a poor country dominie in the Forest of Ettrick. + </p> + <p> + "Mr. Campbell," I stammered, "and if you were in my shoes, would you go?" + </p> + <p> + "Of a surety," said the minister, "that would I, and without pause. A + pretty lad like you should get to Cramond (which is near in by Edinburgh) + in two days of walk. If the worst came to the worst, and your high + relations (as I cannot but suppose them to be somewhat of your blood) + should put you to the door, ye can but walk the two days back again and + risp at the manse door. But I would rather hope that ye shall be well + received, as your poor father forecast for you, and for anything that I + ken come to be a great man in time. And here, Davie, laddie," he resumed, + "it lies near upon my conscience to improve this parting, and set you on + the right guard against the dangers of the world." + </p> + <p> + Here he cast about for a comfortable seat, lighted on a big boulder under + a birch by the trackside, sate down upon it with a very long, serious + upper lip, and the sun now shining in upon us between two peaks, put his + pocket-handkerchief over his cocked hat to shelter him. There, then, with + uplifted forefinger, he first put me on my guard against a considerable + number of heresies, to which I had no temptation, and urged upon me to be + instant in my prayers and reading of the Bible. That done, he drew a + picture of the great house that I was bound to, and how I should conduct + myself with its inhabitants. + </p> + <p> + "Be soople, Davie, in things immaterial," said he. "Bear ye this in mind, + that, though gentle born, ye have had a country rearing. Dinnae shame us, + Davie, dinnae shame us! In yon great, muckle house, with all these + domestics, upper and under, show yourself as nice, as circumspect, as + quick at the conception, and as slow of speech as any. As for the laird—remember + he's the laird; I say no more: honour to whom honour. It's a pleasure to + obey a laird; or should be, to the young." + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir," said I, "it may be; and I'll promise you I'll try to make it + so." + </p> + <p> + "Why, very well said," replied Mr. Campbell, heartily. "And now to come to + the material, or (to make a quibble) to the immaterial. I have here a + little packet which contains four things." He tugged it, as he spoke, and + with some great difficulty, from the skirt pocket of his coat. "Of these + four things, the first is your legal due: the little pickle money for your + father's books and plenishing, which I have bought (as I have explained + from the first) in the design of re-selling at a profit to the incoming + dominie. The other three are gifties that Mrs. Campbell and myself would + be blithe of your acceptance. The first, which is round, will likely + please ye best at the first off-go; but, O Davie, laddie, it's but a drop + of water in the sea; it'll help you but a step, and vanish like the + morning. The second, which is flat and square and written upon, will stand + by you through life, like a good staff for the road, and a good pillow to + your head in sickness. And as for the last, which is cubical, that'll see + you, it's my prayerful wish, into a better land." + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0025m.jpg" alt="0025m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0025.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + With that he got upon his feet, took off his hat, and prayed a little + while aloud, and in affecting terms, for a young man setting out into the + world; then suddenly took me in his arms and embraced me very hard; then + held me at arm's length, looking at me with his face all working with + sorrow; and then whipped about, and crying good-bye to me, set off + backward by the way that we had come at a sort of jogging run. It might + have been laughable to another; but I was in no mind to laugh. I watched + him as long as he was in sight; and he never stopped hurrying, nor once + looked back. Then it came in upon my mind that this was all his sorrow at + my departure; and my conscience smote me hard and fast, because I, for my + part, was overjoyed to get away out of that quiet country-side, and go to + a great, busy house, among rich and respected gentlefolk of my own name + and blood. + </p> + <p> + "Davie, Davie," I thought, "was ever seen such black ingratitude? Can you + forget old favours and old friends at the mere whistle of a name? Fie, + fie; think shame." + </p> + <p> + And I sat down on the boulder the good man had just left, and opened the + parcel to see the nature of my gifts. That which he had called cubical, I + had never had much doubt of; sure enough it was a little Bible, to carry + in a plaid-neuk. That which he had called round, I found to be a shilling + piece; and the third, which was to help me so wonderfully both in health + and sickness all the days of my life, was a little piece of coarse yellow + paper, written upon thus in red ink: + </p> + <p> + "TO MAKE LILLY OF THE VALLEY WATER.—Take the flowers of lilly of the + valley and distil them in sack, and drink a spooneful or two as there is + occasion. It restores speech to those that have the dumb palsey. It is + good against the Gout; it comforts the heart and strengthens the memory; + and the flowers, put into a Glasse, close stopt, and set into ane hill of + ants for a month, then take it out, and you will find a liquor which comes + from the flowers, which keep in a vial; it is good, ill or well, and + whether man or woman." + </p> + <p> + And then, in the minister's own hand, was added: + </p> + <p> + "Likewise for sprains, rub it in; and for the cholic, a great spooneful in + the hour." + </p> + <p> + To be sure, I laughed over this; but it was rather tremulous laughter; and + I was glad to get my bundle on my staff's end and set out over the ford + and up the hill upon the farther side; till, just as I came on the green + drove-road running wide through the heather, I took my last look of Kirk + Essendean, the trees about the manse, and the big rowans in the kirkyard + where my father and my mother lay. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0028m.jpg" alt="0028m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0028.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + I COME TO MY JOURNEY'S END + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9028m.jpg" alt="9028m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9028.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + n the forenoon of the second day, coming to the top of a hill, I saw all + the country fall away before me down to the sea; and in the midst of this + descent, on a long ridge, the city of Edinburgh smoking like a kiln. There + was a flag upon the castle, and ships moving or lying anchored in the + firth; both of which, for as far away as they were, I could distinguish + clearly; and both brought my country heart into my mouth. + </p> + <p> + Presently after, I came by a house where a shepherd lived, and got a rough + direction for the neighbourhood of Cramond; and so, from one to another, + worked my way to the westward of the capital by Colinton, till I came out + upon the Glasgow road. And there, to my great pleasure and wonder, I + beheld a regiment marching to the fifes, every foot in time; an old + red-faced general on a grey horse at the one end, and at the other the + company of Grenadiers, with their Pope's-hats. The pride of life seemed to + mount into my brain at the sight of the red coats and the hearing of that + merry music. + </p> + <p> + A little farther on, and I was told I was in Cramond parish, and began to + substitute in my inquiries the name of the house of Shaws. It was a word + that seemed to surprise those of whom I sought my way. At first I thought + the plainness of my appearance, in my country habit, and that all dusty + from the road, consorted ill with the greatness of the place to which I + was bound. But after two, or maybe three, had given me the same look and + the same answer, I began to take it in my head there was something strange + about the Shaws itself. + </p> + <p> + The better to set this fear at rest, I changed the form of my inquiries; + and spying an honest fellow coming along a lane on the shaft of his cart, + I asked him if he had ever heard tell of a house they called the house of + Shaws. + </p> + <p> + He stopped his cart and looked at me, like the others. + </p> + <p> + "Ay" said he. "What for?" + </p> + <p> + "It's a great house?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "Doubtless," says he. "The house is a big, muckle house." + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said I, "but the folk that are in it?" + </p> + <p> + "Folk?" cried he. "Are ye daft? There's nae folk there—to call + folk." + </p> + <p> + "What?" say I; "not Mr. Ebenezer?" + </p> + <p> + "Ou, ay" says the man; "there's the laird, to be sure, if it's him you're + wanting. What'll like be your business, mannie?" + </p> + <p> + "I was led to think that I would get a situation," I said, looking as + modest as I could. + </p> + <p> + "What?" cries the carter, in so sharp a note that his very horse started; + and then, "Well, mannie," he added, "it's nane of my affairs; but ye seem + a decent-spoken lad; and if ye'll take a word from me, ye'll keep clear of + the Shaws." + </p> + <p> + The next person I came across was a dapper little man in a beautiful white + wig, whom I saw to be a barber on his rounds; and knowing well that + barbers were great gossips, I asked him plainly what sort of a man was Mr. + Balfour of the Shaws. + </p> + <p> + "Hoot, hoot, hoot," said the barber, "nae kind of a man, nae kind of a man + at all;" and began to ask me very shrewdly what my business was; but I was + more than a match for him at that, and he went on to his next customer no + wiser than he came. + </p> + <p> + I cannot well describe the blow this dealt to my illusions. The more + indistinct the accusations were, the less I liked them, for they left the + wider field to fancy. What kind of a great house was this, that all the + parish should start and stare to be asked the way to it? or what sort of a + gentleman, that his ill-fame should be thus current on the wayside? If an + hour's walking would have brought me back to Essendean, I had left my + adventure then and there, and returned to Mr. Campbell's. But when I had + come so far a way already, mere shame would not suffer me to desist till I + had put the matter to the touch of proof; I was bound, out of mere + self-respect, to carry it through; and little as I liked the sound of what + I heard, and slow as I began to travel, I still kept asking my way and + still kept advancing. + </p> + <p> + It was drawing on to sundown when I met a stout, dark, sour-looking woman + coming trudging down a hill; and she, when I had put my usual question, + turned sharp about, accompanied me back to the summit she had just left, + and pointed to a great bulk of building standing very bare upon a green in + the bottom of the next valley. The country was pleasant round about, + running in low hills, pleasantly watered and wooded, and the crops, to my + eyes, wonderfully good; but the house itself appeared to be a kind of + ruin; no road led up to it; no smoke arose from any of the chimneys; nor + was there any semblance of a garden. My heart sank. "That!" I cried. + </p> + <p> + The woman's face lit up with a malignant anger. "That is the house of + Shaws!" she cried. "Blood built it; blood stopped the building of it; + blood shall bring it down. See here!" she cried again—"I spit upon + the ground, and crack my thumb at it! Black be its fall! If ye see the + laird, tell him what ye hear; tell him this makes the twelve hunner and + nineteen time that Jennet Clouston has called down the curse on him and + his house, byre and stable, man, guest, and master, wife, miss, or bairn—black, + black be their fall!" + </p> + <p> + And the woman, whose voice had risen to a kind of eldritch sing-song, + turned with a skip, and was gone. I stood where she left me, with my hair + on end. In those days folk still believed in witches and trembled at a + curse; and this one, falling so pat, like a wayside omen, to arrest me ere + I carried out my purpose, took the pith out of my legs. + </p> + <p> + I sat me down and stared at the house of Shaws. The more I looked, the + pleasanter that country-side appeared; being all set with hawthorn bushes + full of flowers; the fields dotted with sheep; a fine flight of rooks in + the sky; and every sign of a kind soil and climate; and yet the barrack in + the midst of it went sore against my fancy. + </p> + <p> + Country folk went by from the fields as I sat there on the side of the + ditch, but I lacked the spirit to give them a good-e'en. At last the sun + went down, and then, right up against the yellow sky, I saw a scroll of + smoke go mounting, not much thicker, as it seemed to me, than the smoke of + a candle; but still there it was, and meant a fire, and warmth, and + cookery, and some living inhabitant that must have lit it; and this + comforted my heart. + </p> + <p> + So I set forward by a little faint track in the grass that led in my + direction. It was very faint indeed to be the only way to a place of + habitation; yet I saw no other. Presently it brought me to stone uprights, + with an unroofed lodge beside them, and coats of arms upon the top. A main + entrance it was plainly meant to be, but never finished; instead of gates + of wrought iron, a pair of hurdles were tied across with a straw rope; and + as there were no park walls, nor any sign of avenue, the track that I was + following passed on the right hand of the pillars, and went wandering on + toward the house. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0033m.jpg" alt="0033m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0033.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + The nearer I got to that, the drearier it appeared. It seemed like the one + wing of a house that had never been finished. What should have been the + inner end stood open on the upper floors, and showed against the sky with + steps and stairs of uncompleted masonry. Many of the windows were + unglazed, and bats flew in and out like doves out of a dove-cote. + </p> + <p> + The night had begun to fall as I got close; and in three of the lower + windows, which were very high up and narrow, and well barred, the changing + light of a little fire began to glimmer. Was this the palace I had been + coming to? Was it within these walls that I was to seek new friends and + begin great fortunes? Why, in my father's house on Essen-Waterside, the + fire and the bright lights would show a mile away, and the door open to a + beggar's knock! + </p> + <p> + I came forward cautiously, and giving ear as I came, heard some one + rattling with dishes, and a little dry, eager cough that came in fits; but + there was no sound of speech, and not a dog barked. + </p> + <p> + The door, as well as I could see it in the dim light, was a great piece of + wood all studded with nails; and I lifted my hand with a faint heart under + my jacket, and knocked once. Then I stood and waited. The house had fallen + into a dead silence; a whole minute passed away, and nothing stirred but + the bats overhead. I knocked again, and hearkened again. By this time my + ears had grown so accustomed to the quiet, that I could hear the ticking + of the clock inside as it slowly counted out the seconds; but whoever was + in that house kept deadly still, and must have held his breath. + </p> + <p> + I was in two minds whether to run away; but anger got the upper hand, and + I began instead to rain kicks and buffets on the door, and to shout out + aloud for Mr. Balfour. I was in full career, when I heard the cough right + overhead, and jumping back and looking up, beheld a man's head in a tall + nightcap, and the bell mouth of a blunderbuss, at one of the first-storey + windows. + </p> + <p> + "It's loaded," said a voice. + </p> + <p> + "I have come here with a letter," I said, "to Mr. Ebenezer Balfour of + Shaws. Is he here?" + </p> + <p> + "From whom is it?" asked the man with the blunderbuss. + </p> + <p> + "That is neither here nor there," said I, for I was growing very wroth. + </p> + <p> + "Well," was the reply, "ye can put it down upon the doorstep, and be off + with ye." + </p> + <p> + "I will do no such thing," I cried. "I will deliver it into Mr. Balfour's + hands, as it was meant I should. It is a letter of introduction." + </p> + <p> + "A what?" cried the voice, sharply. + </p> + <p> + I repeated what I had said. + </p> + <p> + "Who are ye, yourself?" was the next question, after a considerable pause. + </p> + <p> + "I am not ashamed of my name," said I. "They call me David Balfour." + </p> + <p> + At that, I made sure the man started, for I heard the blunderbuss rattle + on the window-sill; and it was after quite a long pause, and with a + curious change of voice, that the next question followed: + </p> + <p> + "Is your father dead?" + </p> + <p> + I was so much surprised at this, that I could find no voice to answer, but + stood staring. + </p> + <p> + "Ay," the man resumed, "he'll be dead, no doubt; and that'll be what + brings ye chapping to my door." Another pause, and then defiantly, "Well, + man," he said, "I'll let ye in;" and he disappeared from the window. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0036m.jpg" alt="0036m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0036.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9036m.jpg" alt="9036m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9036.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + resently there came a great rattling of chains and bolts, and the door + was cautiously opened and shut to again behind me as soon as I had passed. + </p> + <p> + "Go into the kitchen and touch naething," said the voice; and while the + person of the house set himself to replacing the defences of the door, I + groped my way forward and entered the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + The fire had burned up fairly bright, and showed me the barest room I + think I ever put my eyes on. Half-a-dozen dishes stood upon the shelves; + the table was laid for supper with a bowl of porridge, a horn spoon, and a + cup of small beer. Besides what I have named, there was not another thing + in that great, stone-vaulted, empty chamber but lockfast chests arranged + along the wall and a corner cupboard with a padlock. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the last chain was up, the man rejoined me. He was a mean, + stooping, narrow-shouldered, clay-faced creature; and his age might have + been anything between fifty and seventy. His nightcap was of flannel, and + so was the nightgown that he wore, instead of coat and waistcoat, over his + ragged shirt. He was long unshaved; but what most distressed and even + daunted me, he would neither take his eyes away from me nor look me fairly + in the face. What he was, whether by trade or birth, was more than I could + fathom; but he seemed most like an old, unprofitable serving-man, who + should have been left in charge of that big house upon board wages. + </p> + <p> + "Are ye sharp-set?" he asked, glancing at about the level of my knee. "Ye + can eat that drop parritch?" + </p> + <p> + I said I feared it was his own supper. + </p> + <p> + "O," said he, "I can do fine wanting it. I'll take the ale, though, for it + slockens (moistens) my cough." He drank the cup about half out, still + keeping an eye upon me as he drank; and then suddenly held out his hand. + "Let's see the letter," said he. + </p> + <p> + I told him the letter was for Mr. Balfour; not for him. + </p> + <p> + "And who do ye think I am?" says he. "Give me Alexander's letter." + </p> + <p> + "You know my father's name?" + </p> + <p> + "It would be strange if I didnae," he returned, "for he was my born + brother; and little as ye seem to like either me or my house, or my good + parritch, I'm your born uncle, Davie, my man, and you my born nephew. So + give us the letter, and sit down and fill your kyte." + </p> + <p> + If I had been some years younger, what with shame, weariness, and + disappointment, I believe I had burst into tears. As it was, I could find + no words, neither black nor white, but handed him the letter, and sat down + to the porridge with as little appetite for meat as ever a young man had. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, my uncle, stooping over the fire, turned the letter over and + over in his hands. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0039m.jpg" alt="0039m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0039.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + "Do ye ken what's in it?" he asked, suddenly. + </p> + <p> + "You see for yourself, sir," said I, "that the seal has not been broken." + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said he, "but what brought you here?" + </p> + <p> + "To give the letter," said I. + </p> + <p> + "No," says he, cunningly, "but ye'll have had some hopes, nae doubt?" + </p> + <p> + "I confess, sir," said I, "when I was told that I had kinsfolk well-to-do, + I did indeed indulge the hope that they might help me in my life. But I am + no beggar; I look for no favours at your hands, and I want none that are + not freely given. For as poor as I appear, I have friends of my own that + will be blithe to help me." + </p> + <p> + "Hoot-toot!" said Uncle Ebenezer, "dinnae fly up in the snuff at me. We'll + agree fine yet. And, Davie, my man, if you're done with that bit parritch, + I could just take a sup of it myself. Ay," he continued, as soon as he had + ousted me from the stool and spoon, "they're fine, halesome food—they're + grand food, parritch." He murmured a little grace to himself and fell to. + "Your father was very fond of his meat, I mind; he was a hearty, if not a + great eater; but as for me, I could never do mair than pyke at food." He + took a pull at the small beer, which probably reminded him of hospitable + duties, for his next speech ran thus: "If ye're dry ye'll find water + behind the door." + </p> + <p> + To this I returned no answer, standing stiffly on my two feet, and looking + down upon my uncle with a mighty angry heart. He, on his part, continued + to eat like a man under some pressure of time, and to throw out little + darting glances now at my shoes and now at my home-spun stockings. Once + only, when he had ventured to look a little higher, our eyes met; and no + thief taken with a hand in a man's pocket could have shown more lively + signals of distress. This set me in a muse, whether his timidity arose + from too long a disuse of any human company; and whether perhaps, upon a + little trial, it might pass off, and my uncle change into an altogether + different man. From this I was awakened by his sharp voice. + </p> + <p> + "Your father's been long dead?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "Three weeks, sir," said I. + </p> + <p> + "He was a secret man, Alexander—a secret, silent man," he continued. + "He never said muckle when he was young. He'll never have spoken muckle of + me?" + </p> + <p> + "I never knew, sir, till you told it me yourself, that he had any + brother." + </p> + <p> + "Dear me, dear me!" said Ebenezer. "Nor yet of Shaws, I dare say?" + </p> + <p> + "Not so much as the name, sir," said I. + </p> + <p> + "To think o' that!" said he. "A strange nature of a man!" For all that, he + seemed singularly satisfied, but whether with himself, or me, or with this + conduct of my father's, was more than I could read. Certainly, however, he + seemed to be outgrowing that distaste, or ill-will, that he had conceived + at first against my person; for presently he jumped up, came across the + room behind me, and hit me a smack upon the shoulder. "We'll agree fine + yet!" he cried. "I'm just as glad I let you in. And now come awa' to your + bed." + </p> + <p> + To my surprise, he lit no lamp or candle, but set forth into the dark + passage, groped his way, breathing deeply, up a flight of steps, and + paused before a door, which he unlocked. I was close upon his heels, + having stumbled after him as best I might; and then he bade me go in, for + that was my chamber. I did as he bid, but paused after a few steps, and + begged a light to go to bed with. + </p> + <p> + "Hoot-toot!" said Uncle Ebenezer, "there's a fine moon." + </p> + <p> + "Neither moon nor star, sir, and pit-mirk,"* said I. "I cannae see the + bed." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Dark as the pit. +</pre> + <p> + "Hoot-toot, hoot-toot!" said he. "Lights in a house is a thing I dinnae + agree with. I'm unco feared of fires. Good-night to ye, Davie, my man." + And before I had time to add a further protest, he pulled the door to, and + I heard him lock me in from the outside. + </p> + <p> + I did not know whether to laugh or cry. The room was as cold as a well, + and the bed, when I had found my way to it, as damp as a peat-hag; but by + good fortune I had caught up my bundle and my plaid, and rolling myself in + the latter, I lay down upon the floor under lee of the big bedstead, and + fell speedily asleep. + </p> + <p> + With the first peep of day I opened my eyes, to find myself in a great + chamber, hung with stamped leather, furnished with fine embroidered + furniture, and lit by three fair windows. Ten years ago, or perhaps + twenty, it must have been as pleasant a room to lie down or to awake in as + a man could wish; but damp, dirt, disuse, and the mice and spiders had + done their worst since then. Many of the window-panes, besides, were + broken; and indeed this was so common a feature in that house, that I + believe my uncle must at some time have stood a siege from his indignant + neighbours—perhaps with Jennet Clouston at their head. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the sun was shining outside; and being very cold in that + miserable room, I knocked and shouted till my gaoler came and let me out. + He carried me to the back of the house, where was a draw-well, and told me + to "wash my face there, if I wanted;" and when that was done, I made the + best of my own way back to the kitchen, where he had lit the fire and was + making the porridge. The table was laid with two bowls and two horn + spoons, but the same single measure of small beer. Perhaps my eye rested + on this particular with some surprise, and perhaps my uncle observed it; + for he spoke up as if in answer to my thought, asking me if I would like + to drink ale—for so he called it. + </p> + <p> + I told him such was my habit, but not to put himself about. + </p> + <p> + "Na, na," said he; "I'll deny you nothing in reason." + </p> + <p> + He fetched another cup from the shelf; and then, to my great surprise, + instead of drawing more beer, he poured an accurate half from one cup to + the other. There was a kind of nobleness in this that took my breath away; + if my uncle was certainly a miser, he was one of that thorough breed that + goes near to make the vice respectable. + </p> + <p> + When we had made an end of our meal, my uncle Ebenezer unlocked a drawer, + and drew out of it a clay pipe and a lump of tobacco, from which he cut + one fill before he locked it up again. Then he sat down in the sun at one + of the windows and silently smoked. From time to time his eyes came + coasting round to me, and he shot out one of his questions. Once it was, + "And your mother?" and when I had told him that she, too, was dead, "Ay, + she was a bonnie lassie!" Then, after another long pause, "Whae were these + friends o' yours?" + </p> + <p> + I told him they were different gentlemen of the name of Campbell; though, + indeed, there was only one, and that the minister, that had ever taken the + least note of me; but I began to think my uncle made too light of my + position, and finding myself all alone with him, I did not wish him to + suppose me helpless. + </p> + <p> + He seemed to turn this over in his mind; and then, "Davie, my man," said + he, "ye've come to the right bit when ye came to your uncle Ebenezer. I've + a great notion of the family, and I mean to do the right by you; but while + I'm taking a bit think to mysel' of what's the best thing to put you to—whether + the law, or the meenistry, or maybe the army, whilk is what boys are + fondest of—I wouldnae like the Balfours to be humbled before a wheen + Hieland Campbells, and I'll ask you to keep your tongue within your teeth. + Nae letters; nae messages; no kind of word to onybody; or else—there's + my door." + </p> + <p> + "Uncle Ebenezer," said I, "I've no manner of reason to suppose you mean + anything but well by me. For all that, I would have you to know that I + have a pride of my own. It was by no will of mine that I came seeking you; + and if you show me your door again, I'll take you at the word." + </p> + <p> + He seemed grievously put out. "Hoots-toots," said he, "ca' cannie, man—ca' + cannie! Bide a day or two. I'm nae warlock, to find a fortune for you in + the bottom of a parritch bowl; but just you give me a day or two, and say + naething to naebody, and as sure as sure, I'll do the right by you." + </p> + <p> + "Very well," said I, "enough said. If you want to help me, there's no + doubt but I'll be glad of it, and none but I'll be grateful." + </p> + <p> + It seemed to me (too soon, I dare say) that I was getting the upper hand + of my uncle; and I began next to say that I must have the bed and + bedclothes aired and put to sun-dry; for nothing would make me sleep in + such a pickle. + </p> + <p> + "Is this my house or yours?" said he, in his keen voice, and then all of a + sudden broke off. "Na, na," said he, "I didnae mean that. What's mine is + yours, Davie, my man, and what's yours is mine. Blood's thicker than + water; and there's naebody but you and me that ought the name." And then + on he rambled about the family, and its ancient greatness, and his father + that began to enlarge the house, and himself that stopped the building as + a sinful waste; and this put it in my head to give him Jennet Clouston's + message. + </p> + <p> + "The limmer!" he cried. "Twelve hunner and fifteen—that's every day + since I had the limmer rowpit!* Dod, David, I'll have her roasted on red + peats before I'm by with it! A witch—a proclaimed witch! I'll aff + and see the session clerk." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Sold up. +</pre> + <p> + And with that he opened a chest, and got out a very old and well-preserved + blue coat and waistcoat, and a good enough beaver hat, both without lace. + These he threw on any way, and taking a staff from the cupboard, locked + all up again, and was for setting out, when a thought arrested him. + </p> + <p> + "I cannae leave you by yoursel' in the house," said he. "I'll have to lock + you out." + </p> + <p> + The blood came to my face. "If you lock me out," I said, "it'll be the + last you'll see of me in friendship." + </p> + <p> + He turned very pale, and sucked his mouth in. + </p> + <p> + "This is no the way," he said, looking wickedly at a corner of the floor—"this + is no the way to win my favour, David." + </p> + <p> + "Sir," says I, "with a proper reverence for your age and our common blood, + I do not value your favour at a boddle's purchase. I was brought up to + have a good conceit of myself; and if you were all the uncle, and all the + family, I had in the world ten times over, I wouldn't buy your liking at + such prices." + </p> + <p> + Uncle Ebenezer went and looked out of the window for awhile. I could see + him all trembling and twitching, like a man with palsy. But when he turned + round, he had a smile upon his face. + </p> + <p> + "Well, well," said he, "we must bear and forbear. I'll no go; that's all + that's to be said of it." + </p> + <p> + "Uncle Ebenezer," I said, "I can make nothing out of this. You use me like + a thief; you hate to have me in this house; you let me see it, every word + and every minute: it's not possible that you can like me; and as for me, + I've spoken to you as I never thought to speak to any man. Why do you seek + to keep me, then? Let me gang back—let me gang back to the friends I + have, and that like me!" + </p> + <p> + "Na, na; na, na," he said, very earnestly. "I like you fine; we'll agree + fine yet; and for the honour of the house I couldnae let you leave the way + ye came. Bide here quiet, there's a good lad; just you bide here quiet a + bittie, and ye'll find that we agree." + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir," said I, after I had thought the matter out in silence, "I'll + stay awhile. It's more just I should be helped by my own blood than + strangers; and if we don't agree, I'll do my best it shall be through no + fault of mine." + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0046m.jpg" alt="0046m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0046.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9046m.jpg" alt="9046m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9046.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + or a day that was begun so ill, the day passed fairly well. We had the + porridge cold again at noon, and hot porridge at night; porridge and small + beer was my uncle's diet. He spoke but little, and that in the same way as + before, shooting a question at me after a long silence; and when I sought + to lead him to talk about my future, slipped out of it again. In a room + next door to the kitchen, where he suffered me to go, I found a great + number of books, both Latin and English, in which I took great pleasure + all the afternoon. Indeed, the time passed so lightly in this good + company, that I began to be almost reconciled to my residence at Shaws; + and nothing but the sight of my uncle, and his eyes playing hide and seek + with mine, revived the force of my distrust. + </p> + <p> + One thing I discovered, which put me in some doubt. This was an entry on + the fly-leaf of a chap-book (one of Patrick Walker's) plainly written by + my father's hand and thus conceived: "To my brother Ebenezer on his fifth + birthday." Now, what puzzled me was this: That, as my father was of course + the younger brother, he must either have made some strange error, or he + must have written, before he was yet five, an excellent, clear manly hand + of writing. + </p> + <p> + I tried to get this out of my head; but though I took down many + interesting authors, old and new, history, poetry, and story-book, this + notion of my father's hand of writing stuck to me; and when at length I + went back into the kitchen, and sat down once more to porridge and small + beer, the first thing I said to Uncle Ebenezer was to ask him if my father + had not been very quick at his book. + </p> + <p> + "Alexander? No him!" was the reply. "I was far quicker mysel'; I was a + clever chappie when I was young. Why, I could read as soon as he could." + </p> + <p> + This puzzled me yet more; and a thought coming into my head, I asked if he + and my father had been twins. + </p> + <p> + He jumped upon his stool, and the horn spoon fell out of his hand upon the + floor. "What gars ye ask that?" he said, and he caught me by the breast of + the jacket, and looked this time straight into my eyes: his own were + little and light, and bright like a bird's, blinking and winking + strangely. + </p> + <p> + "What do you mean?" I asked, very calmly, for I was far stronger than he, + and not easily frightened. "Take your hand from my jacket. This is no way + to behave." + </p> + <p> + My uncle seemed to make a great effort upon himself. "Dod man, David," he + said, "ye should-nae speak to me about your father. That's where the + mistake is." He sat awhile and shook, blinking in his plate: "He was all + the brother that ever I had," he added, but with no heart in his voice; + and then he caught up his spoon and fell to supper again, but still + shaking. + </p> + <p> + Now this last passage, this laying of hands upon my person and sudden + profession of love for my dead father, went so clean beyond my + comprehension that it put me into both fear and hope. On the one hand, I + began to think my uncle was perhaps insane and might be dangerous; on the + other, there came up into my mind (quite unbidden by me and even + discouraged) a story like some ballad I had heard folk singing, of a poor + lad that was a rightful heir and a wicked kinsman that tried to keep him + from his own. For why should my uncle play a part with a relative that + came, almost a beggar, to his door, unless in his heart he had some cause + to fear him? + </p> + <p> + With this notion, all unacknowledged, but nevertheless getting firmly + settled in my head, I now began to imitate his covert looks; so that we + sat at table like a cat and a mouse, each stealthily observing the other. + Not another word had he to say to me, black or white, but was busy turning + something secretly over in his mind; and the longer we sat and the more I + looked at him, the more certain I became that the something was unfriendly + to myself. + </p> + <p> + When he had cleared the platter, he got out a single pipeful of tobacco, + just as in the morning, turned round a stool into the chimney corner, and + sat awhile smoking, with his back to me. + </p> + <p> + "Davie," he said, at length, "I've been thinking;" then he paused, and + said it again. "There's a wee bit siller that I half promised ye before ye + were born," he continued; "promised it to your father. O, naething legal, + ye understand; just gentlemen daffing at their wine. Well, I keepit that + bit money separate—it was a great expense, but a promise is a + promise—and it has grown by now to be a matter of just precisely—just + exactly"—and here he paused and stumbled—"of just exactly + forty pounds!" This last he rapped out with a sidelong glance over his + shoulder; and the next moment added, almost with a scream, "Scots!" + </p> + <p> + The pound Scots being the same thing as an English shilling, the + difference made by this second thought was considerable; I could see, + besides, that the whole story was a lie, invented with some end which it + puzzled me to guess; and I made no attempt to conceal the tone of raillery + in which I answered— + </p> + <p> + "O, think again, sir! Pounds sterling, I believe!" + </p> + <p> + "That's what I said," returned my uncle: "pounds sterling! And if you'll + step out-by to the door a minute, just to see what kind of a night it is, + I'll get it out to ye and call ye in again." + </p> + <p> + I did his will, smiling to myself in my contempt that he should think I + was so easily to be deceived. It was a dark night, with a few stars low + down; and as I stood just outside the door, I heard a hollow moaning of + wind far off among the hills. I said to myself there was something + thundery and changeful in the weather, and little knew of what a vast + importance that should prove to me before the evening passed. + </p> + <p> + When I was called in again, my uncle counted out into my hand seven and + thirty golden guinea pieces; the rest was in his hand, in small gold and + silver; but his heart failed him there, and he crammed the change into his + pocket. + </p> + <p> + "There," said he, "that'll show you! I'm a queer man, and strange wi' + strangers; but my word is my bond, and there's the proof of it." + </p> + <p> + Now, my uncle seemed so miserly that I was struck dumb by this sudden + generosity, and could find no words in which to thank him. + </p> + <p> + "No a word!" said he. "Nae thanks; I want nae thanks. I do my duty. I'm no + saying that everybody would have done it; but for my part (though I'm a + careful body, too) it's a pleasure to me to do the right by my brother's + son; and it's a pleasure to me to think that now we'll agree as such near + friends should." + </p> + <p> + I spoke him in return as handsomely as I was able; but all the while I was + wondering what would come next, and why he had parted with his precious + guineas; for as to the reason he had given, a baby would have refused it. + </p> + <p> + Presently he looked towards me sideways. + </p> + <p> + "And see here," says he, "tit for tat." + </p> + <p> + I told him I was ready to prove my gratitude in any reasonable degree, and + then waited, looking for some monstrous demand. And yet, when at last he + plucked up courage to speak, it was only to tell me (very properly, as I + thought) that he was growing old and a little broken, and that he would + expect me to help him with the house and the bit garden. + </p> + <p> + I answered, and expressed my readiness to serve. + </p> + <p> + "Well," he said, "let's begin." He pulled out of his pocket a rusty key. + "There," says he, "there's the key of the stair-tower at the far end of + the house. Ye can only win into it from the outside, for that part of the + house is no finished. Gang ye in there, and up the stairs, and bring me + down the chest that's at the top. There's papers in't," he added. + </p> + <p> + "Can I have a light, sir?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "Na," said he, very cunningly. "Nae lights in my house." + </p> + <p> + "Very well, sir," said I. "Are the stairs good?" + </p> + <p> + "They're grand," said he; and then, as I was going, "Keep to the wall," he + added; "there's nae bannisters. But the stairs are grand underfoot." + </p> + <p> + Out I went into the night. The wind was still moaning in the distance, + though never a breath of it came near the house of Shaws. It had fallen + blacker than ever; and I was glad to feel along the wall, till I came the + length of the stairtower door at the far end of the unfinished wing. I had + got the key into the keyhole and had just turned it, when all upon a + sudden, without sound of wind or thunder, the whole sky lighted up with + wild fire and went black again. I had to put my hand over my eyes to get + back to the colour of the darkness; and indeed I was already half blinded + when I stepped into the tower. + </p> + <p> + It was so dark inside, it seemed a body could scarce breathe; but I pushed + out with foot and hand, and presently struck the wall with the one, and + the lowermost round of the stair with the other. The wall, by the touch, + was of fine hewn stone; the steps too, though somewhat steep and narrow, + were of polished masonwork, and regular and solid underfoot. Minding my + uncle's word about the bannisters, I kept close to the tower side, and + felt my way in the pitch darkness with a beating heart. + </p> + <p> + The house of Shaws stood some five full storeys high, not counting lofts. + Well, as I advanced, it seemed to me the stair grew airier and a thought + more lightsome; and I was wondering what might be the cause of this + change, when a second blink of the summer lightning came and went. If I + did not cry out, it was because fear had me by the throat; and if I did + not fall, it was more by Heaven's mercy than my own strength. It was not + only that the flash shone in on every side through breaches in the wall, + so that I seemed to be clambering aloft upon an open scaffold, but the + same passing brightness showed me the steps were of unequal length, and + that one of my feet rested that moment within two inches of the well. + </p> + <p> + This was the grand stair! I thought; and with the thought, a gust of a + kind of angry courage came into my heart. My uncle had sent me here, + certainly to run great risks, perhaps to die. I swore I would settle that + "perhaps," if I should break my neck for it; got me down upon my hands and + knees; and as slowly as a snail, feeling before me every inch, and testing + the solidity of every stone, I continued to ascend the stair. The + darkness, by contrast with the flash, appeared to have redoubled; nor was + that all, for my ears were now troubled and my mind confounded by a great + stir of bats in the top part of the tower, and the foul beasts, flying + downwards, sometimes beat about my face and body. + </p> + <p> + The tower, I should have said, was square; and in every corner the step + was made of a great stone of a different shape to join the flights. Well, + I had come close to one of these turns, when, feeling forward as usual, my + hand slipped upon an edge and found nothing but emptiness beyond it. The + stair had been carried no higher; to set a stranger mounting it in the + darkness was to send him straight to his death; and (although, thanks to + the lightning and my own precautions, I was safe enough) the mere thought + of the peril in which I might have stood, and the dreadful height I might + have fallen from, brought out the sweat upon my body and relaxed my + joints. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0053m.jpg" alt="0053m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0053.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + But I knew what I wanted now, and turned and groped my way down again, + with a wonderful anger in my heart. About half-way down, the wind sprang + up in a clap and shook the tower, and died again; the rain followed; and + before I had reached the ground level it fell in buckets. I put out my + head into the storm, and looked along towards the kitchen. The door, which + I had shut behind me when I left, now stood open, and shed a little + glimmer of light; and I thought I could see a figure standing in the rain, + quite still, like a man hearkening. And then there came a blinding flash, + which showed me my uncle plainly, just where I had fancied him to stand; + and hard upon the heels of it, a great tow-row of thunder. + </p> + <p> + Now, whether my uncle thought the crash to be the sound of my fall, or + whether he heard in it God's voice denouncing murder, I will leave you to + guess. Certain it is, at least, that he was seized on by a kind of panic + fear, and that he ran into the house and left the door open behind him. I + followed as softly as I could, and, coming unheard into the kitchen, stood + and watched him. + </p> + <p> + He had found time to open the corner cupboard and bring out a great case + bottle of aqua vitae, and now sat with his back towards me at the table. + Ever and again he would be seized with a fit of deadly shuddering and + groan aloud, and carrying the bottle to his lips, drink down the raw + spirits by the mouthful. + </p> + <p> + I stepped forward, came close behind him where he sat, and suddenly + clapping my two hands down upon his shoulders—"Ah!" cried I. + </p> + <p> + My uncle gave a kind of broken cry like a sheep's bleat, flung up his + arms, and tumbled to the floor like a dead man. I was somewhat shocked at + this; but I had myself to look to first of all, and did not hesitate to + let him lie as he had fallen. The keys were hanging in the cupboard; and + it was my design to furnish myself with arms before my uncle should come + again to his senses and the power of devising evil. In the cupboard were a + few bottles, some apparently of medicine; a great many bills and other + papers, which I should willingly enough have rummaged, had I had the time; + and a few necessaries that were nothing to my purpose. Thence I turned to + the chests. The first was full of meal; the second of moneybags and papers + tied into sheaves; in the third, with many other things (and these for the + most part clothes) I found a rusty, ugly-looking Highland dirk without the + scabbard. This, then, I concealed inside my waistcoat, and turned to my + uncle. + </p> + <p> + He lay as he had fallen, all huddled, with one knee up and one arm + sprawling abroad; his face had a strange colour of blue, and he seemed to + have ceased breathing. Fear came on me that he was dead; then I got water + and dashed it in his face; and with that he seemed to come a little to + himself, working his mouth and fluttering his eyelids. At last he looked + up and saw me, and there came into his eyes a terror that was not of this + world. + </p> + <p> + "Come, come," said I; "sit up." + </p> + <p> + "Are ye alive?" he sobbed. "O man, are ye alive?" + </p> + <p> + "That am I," said I. "Small thanks to you!" + </p> + <p> + He had begun to seek for his breath with deep sighs. "The blue phial," + said he—"in the aumry—the blue phial." His breath came slower + still. + </p> + <p> + I ran to the cupboard, and, sure enough, found there a blue phial of + medicine, with the dose written on it on a paper, and this I administered + to him with what speed I might. + </p> + <p> + "It's the trouble," said he, reviving a little; "I have a trouble, Davie. + It's the heart." + </p> + <p> + I set him on a chair and looked at him. It is true I felt some pity for a + man that looked so sick, but I was full besides of righteous anger; and I + numbered over before him the points on which I wanted explanation: why he + lied to me at every word; why he feared that I should leave him; why he + disliked it to be hinted that he and my father were twins—"Is that + because it is true?" I asked; why he had given me money to which I was + convinced I had no claim; and, last of all, why he had tried to kill me. + He heard me all through in silence; and then, in a broken voice, begged me + to let him go to bed. + </p> + <p> + "I'll tell ye the morn," he said; "as sure as death I will." + </p> + <p> + And so weak was he that I could do nothing but consent. I locked him into + his room, however, and pocketed the key, and then returning to the + kitchen, made up such a blaze as had not shone there for many a long year, + and wrapping myself in my plaid, lay down upon the chests and fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0057m.jpg" alt="0057m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0057.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + I GO TO THE QUEEN'S FERRY + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9057m.jpg" alt="9057m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9057.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + uch rain fell in the night; and the next morning there blew a bitter + wintry wind out of the north-west, driving scattered clouds. For all that, + and before the sun began to peep or the last of the stars had vanished, I + made my way to the side of the burn, and had a plunge in a deep whirling + pool. All aglow from my bath, I sat down once more beside the fire, which + I replenished, and began gravely to consider my position. + </p> + <p> + There was now no doubt about my uncle's enmity; there was no doubt I + carried my life in my hand, and he would leave no stone unturned that he + might compass my destruction. But I was young and spirited, and like most + lads that have been country-bred, I had a great opinion of my shrewdness. + I had come to his door no better than a beggar and little more than a + child; he had met me with treachery and violence; it would be a fine + consummation to take the upper hand, and drive him like a herd of sheep. + </p> + <p> + I sat there nursing my knee and smiling at the fire; and I saw myself in + fancy smell out his secrets one after another, and grow to be that man's + king and ruler. The warlock of Essendean, they say, had made a mirror in + which men could read the future; it must have been of other stuff than + burning coal; for in all the shapes and pictures that I sat and gazed at, + there was never a ship, never a seaman with a hairy cap, never a big + bludgeon for my silly head, or the least sign of all those tribulations + that were ripe to fall on me. + </p> + <p> + Presently, all swollen with conceit, I went up-stairs and gave my prisoner + his liberty. He gave me good-morning civilly; and I gave the same to him, + smiling down upon him, from the heights of my sufficiency. Soon we were + set to breakfast, as it might have been the day before. + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir," said I, with a jeering tone, "have you nothing more to say to + me?" And then, as he made no articulate reply, "It will be time, I think, + to understand each other," I continued. "You took me for a country Johnnie + Raw, with no more mother-wit or courage than a porridge-stick. I took you + for a good man, or no worse than others at the least. It seems we were + both wrong. What cause you have to fear me, to cheat me, and to attempt my + life—" + </p> + <p> + He murmured something about a jest, and that he liked a bit of fun; and + then, seeing me smile, changed his tone, and assured me he would make all + clear as soon as we had breakfasted. I saw by his face that he had no lie + ready for me, though he was hard at work preparing one; and I think I was + about to tell him so, when we were interrupted by a knocking at the door. + </p> + <p> + Bidding my uncle sit where he was, I went to open it, and found on the + doorstep a half-grown boy in sea-clothes. He had no sooner seen me than he + began to dance some steps of the sea-hornpipe (which I had never before + heard of far less seen), snapping his fingers in the air and footing it + right cleverly. For all that, he was blue with the cold; and there was + something in his face, a look between tears and laughter, that was highly + pathetic and consisted ill with this gaiety of manner. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0059m.jpg" alt="0059m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0059.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + "What cheer, mate?" says he, with a cracked voice. + </p> + <p> + I asked him soberly to name his pleasure. + </p> + <p> + "O, pleasure!" says he; and then began to sing: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "For it's my delight, of a shiny night, + In the season of the year." +</pre> + <p> + "Well," said I, "if you have no business at all, I will even be so + unmannerly as to shut you out." + </p> + <p> + "Stay, brother!" he cried. "Have you no fun about you? or do you want to + get me thrashed? I've brought a letter from old Heasyoasy to Mr. + Belflower." He showed me a letter as he spoke. "And I say, mate," he + added, "I'm mortal hungry." + </p> + <p> + "Well," said I, "come into the house, and you shall have a bite if I go + empty for it." + </p> + <p> + With that I brought him in and set him down to my own place, where he + fell-to greedily on the remains of breakfast, winking to me between + whiles, and making many faces, which I think the poor soul considered + manly. Meanwhile, my uncle had read the letter and sat thinking; then, + suddenly, he got to his feet with a great air of liveliness, and pulled me + apart into the farthest corner of the room. + </p> + <p> + "Read that," said he, and put the letter in my hand. + </p> + <p> + Here it is, lying before me as I write: + </p> + <p> + "The Hawes Inn, at the Queen's Ferry. + </p> + <p> + "Sir,—I lie here with my hawser up and down, and send my cabin-boy + to informe. If you have any further commands for over-seas, to-day will be + the last occasion, as the wind will serve us well out of the firth. I will + not seek to deny that I have had crosses with your doer,* Mr. Rankeillor; + of which, if not speedily redd up, you may looke to see some losses + follow. I have drawn a bill upon you, as per margin, and am, sir, your + most obedt., humble servant, "ELIAS HOSEASON."* Agent. + </p> + <p> + "You see, Davie," resumed my uncle, as soon as he saw that I had done, "I + have a venture with this man Hoseason, the captain of a trading brig, the + Covenant, of Dysart. Now, if you and me was to walk over with yon lad, I + could see the captain at the Hawes, or maybe on board the Covenant if + there was papers to be signed; and so far from a loss of time, we can jog + on to the lawyer, Mr. Rankeillor's. After a' that's come and gone, ye + would be swier* to believe me upon my naked word; but ye'll believe + Rankeillor. He's factor to half the gentry in these parts; an auld man, + forby: highly respeckit, and he kenned your father." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Unwilling. +</pre> + <p> + I stood awhile and thought. I was going to some place of shipping, which + was doubtless populous, and where my uncle durst attempt no violence, and, + indeed, even the society of the cabin-boy so far protected me. Once there, + I believed I could force on the visit to the lawyer, even if my uncle were + now insincere in proposing it; and, perhaps, in the bottom of my heart, I + wished a nearer view of the sea and ships. You are to remember I had lived + all my life in the inland hills, and just two days before had my first + sight of the firth lying like a blue floor, and the sailed ships moving on + the face of it, no bigger than toys. One thing with another, I made up my + mind. + </p> + <p> + "Very well," says I, "let us go to the Ferry." + </p> + <p> + My uncle got into his hat and coat, and buckled an old rusty cutlass on; + and then we trod the fire out, locked the door, and set forth upon our + walk. + </p> + <p> + The wind, being in that cold quarter the north-west, blew nearly in our + faces as we went. It was the month of June; the grass was all white with + daisies, and the trees with blossom; but, to judge by our blue nails and + aching wrists, the time might have been winter and the whiteness a + December frost. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Ebenezer trudged in the ditch, jogging from side to side like an old + ploughman coming home from work. He never said a word the whole way; and I + was thrown for talk on the cabin-boy. He told me his name was Ransome, and + that he had followed the sea since he was nine, but could not say how old + he was, as he had lost his reckoning. He showed me tattoo marks, baring + his breast in the teeth of the wind and in spite of my remonstrances, for + I thought it was enough to kill him; he swore horribly whenever he + remembered, but more like a silly schoolboy than a man; and boasted of + many wild and bad things that he had done: stealthy thefts, false + accusations, ay, and even murder; but all with such a dearth of likelihood + in the details, and such a weak and crazy swagger in the delivery, as + disposed me rather to pity than to believe him. + </p> + <p> + I asked him of the brig (which he declared was the finest ship that + sailed) and of Captain Hoseason, in whose praises he was equally loud. + Heasyoasy (for so he still named the skipper) was a man, by his account, + that minded for nothing either in heaven or earth; one that, as people + said, would "crack on all sail into the day of judgment;" rough, fierce, + unscrupulous, and brutal; and all this my poor cabin-boy had taught + himself to admire as something seamanlike and manly. He would only admit + one flaw in his idol. "He ain't no seaman," he admitted. "That's Mr. Shuan + that navigates the brig; he's the finest seaman in the trade, only for + drink; and I tell you I believe it! Why, look'ere;" and turning down his + stocking he showed me a great, raw, red wound that made my blood run cold. + "He done that—Mr. Shuan done it," he said, with an air of pride. + </p> + <p> + "What!" I cried, "do you take such savage usage at his hands? Why, you are + no slave, to be so handled!" + </p> + <p> + "No," said the poor moon-calf, changing his tune at once, "and so he'll + find. See'ere;" and he showed me a great case-knife, which he told me was + stolen. "O," says he, "let me see him try; I dare him to; I'll do for him! + O, he ain't the first!" And he confirmed it with a poor, silly, ugly oath. + </p> + <p> + I have never felt such pity for any one in this wide world as I felt for + that half-witted creature, and it began to come over me that the brig + Covenant (for all her pious name) was little better than a hell upon the + seas. + </p> + <p> + "Have you no friends?" said I. + </p> + <p> + He said he had a father in some English seaport, I forget which. + </p> + <p> + "He was a fine man, too," he said, "but he's dead." + </p> + <p> + "In Heaven's name," cried I, "can you find no reputable life on shore?" + </p> + <p> + "O, no," says he, winking and looking very sly, "they would put me to a + trade. I know a trick worth two of that, I do!" + </p> + <p> + I asked him what trade could be so dreadful as the one he followed, where + he ran the continual peril of his life, not alone from wind and sea, but + by the horrid cruelty of those who were his masters. He said it was very + true; and then began to praise the life, and tell what a pleasure it was + to get on shore with money in his pocket, and spend it like a man, and buy + apples, and swagger, and surprise what he called stick-in-the-mud boys. + "And then it's not all as bad as that," says he; "there's worse off than + me: there's the twenty-pounders. O, laws! you should see them taking on. + Why, I've seen a man as old as you, I dessay"—(to him I seemed old)—"ah, + and he had a beard, too—well, and as soon as we cleared out of the + river, and he had the drug out of his head—my! how he cried and + carried on! I made a fine fool of him, I tell you! And then there's little + uns, too: oh, little by me! I tell you, I keep them in order. When we + carry little uns, I have a rope's end of my own to wollop'em." And so he + ran on, until it came in on me what he meant by twenty-pounders were those + unhappy criminals who were sent over-seas to slavery in North America, or + the still more unhappy innocents who were kidnapped or trepanned (as the + word went) for private interest or vengeance. + </p> + <p> + Just then we came to the top of the hill, and looked down on the Ferry and + the Hope. The Firth of Forth (as is very well known) narrows at this point + to the width of a good-sized river, which makes a convenient ferry going + north, and turns the upper reach into a landlocked haven for all manner of + ships. Right in the midst of the narrows lies an islet with some ruins; on + the south shore they have built a pier for the service of the Ferry; and + at the end of the pier, on the other side of the road, and backed against + a pretty garden of holly-trees and hawthorns, I could see the building + which they called the Hawes Inn. + </p> + <p> + The town of Queensferry lies farther west, and the neighbourhood of the + inn looked pretty lonely at that time of day, for the boat had just gone + north with passengers. A skiff, however, lay beside the pier, with some + seamen sleeping on the thwarts; this, as Ransome told me, was the brig's + boat waiting for the captain; and about half a mile off, and all alone in + the anchorage, he showed me the Covenant herself. There was a sea-going + bustle on board; yards were swinging into place; and as the wind blew from + that quarter, I could hear the song of the sailors as they pulled upon the + ropes. After all I had listened to upon the way, I looked at that ship + with an extreme abhorrence; and from the bottom of my heart I pitied all + poor souls that were condemned to sail in her. + </p> + <p> + We had all three pulled up on the brow of the hill; and now I marched + across the road and addressed my uncle. "I think it right to tell you, + sir," says I, "there's nothing that will bring me on board that Covenant." + </p> + <p> + He seemed to waken from a dream. "Eh?" he said. "What's that?" + </p> + <p> + I told him over again. + </p> + <p> + "Well, well," he said, "we'll have to please ye, I suppose. But what are + we standing here for? It's perishing cold; and if I'm no mistaken, they're + busking the Covenant for sea." + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0066m.jpg" alt="0066m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0066.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN'S FERRY + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9066m.jpg" alt="9066m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9066.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + s soon as we came to the inn, Ransome led us up the stair to a small + room, with a bed in it, and heated like an oven by a great fire of coal. + At a table hard by the chimney, a tall, dark, sober-looking man sat + writing. In spite of the heat of the room, he wore a thick sea-jacket, + buttoned to the neck, and a tall hairy cap drawn down over his ears; yet I + never saw any man, not even a judge upon the bench, look cooler, or more + studious and self-possessed, than this ship-captain. + </p> + <p> + He got to his feet at once, and coming forward, offered his large hand to + Ebenezer. "I am proud to see you, Mr. Balfour," said he, in a fine deep + voice, "and glad that ye are here in time. The wind's fair, and the tide + upon the turn; we'll see the old coal-bucket burning on the Isle of May + before to-night." + </p> + <p> + "Captain Hoseason," returned my uncle, "you keep your room unco hot." + </p> + <p> + "It's a habit I have, Mr. Balfour," said the skipper. "I'm a cold-rife man + by my nature; I have a cold blood, sir. There's neither fur, nor flannel—no, + sir, nor hot rum, will warm up what they call the temperature. Sir, it's + the same with most men that have been carbonadoed, as they call it, in the + tropic seas." + </p> + <p> + "Well, well, captain," replied my uncle, "we must all be the way we're + made." + </p> + <p> + But it chanced that this fancy of the captain's had a great share in my + misfortunes. For though I had promised myself not to let my kinsman out of + sight, I was both so impatient for a nearer look of the sea, and so + sickened by the closeness of the room, that when he told me to "run + down-stairs and play myself awhile," I was fool enough to take him at his + word. + </p> + <p> + Away I went, therefore, leaving the two men sitting down to a bottle and a + great mass of papers; and crossing the road in front of the inn, walked + down upon the beach. With the wind in that quarter, only little wavelets, + not much bigger than I had seen upon a lake, beat upon the shore. But the + weeds were new to me—some green, some brown and long, and some with + little bladders that crackled between my fingers. Even so far up the + firth, the smell of the sea-water was exceedingly salt and stirring; the + Covenant, besides, was beginning to shake out her sails, which hung upon + the yards in clusters; and the spirit of all that I beheld put me in + thoughts of far voyages and foreign places. + </p> + <p> + I looked, too, at the seamen with the skiff—big brown fellows, some + in shirts, some with jackets, some with coloured handkerchiefs about their + throats, one with a brace of pistols stuck into his pockets, two or three + with knotty bludgeons, and all with their case-knives. I passed the time + of day with one that looked less desperate than his fellows, and asked him + of the sailing of the brig. He said they would get under way as soon as + the ebb set, and expressed his gladness to be out of a port where there + were no taverns and fiddlers; but all with such horrifying oaths, that I + made haste to get away from him. + </p> + <p> + This threw me back on Ransome, who seemed the least wicked of that gang, + and who soon came out of the inn and ran to me, crying for a bowl of + punch. I told him I would give him no such thing, for neither he nor I was + of an age for such indulgences. "But a glass of ale you may have, and + welcome," said I. He mopped and mowed at me, and called me names; but he + was glad to get the ale, for all that; and presently we were set down at a + table in the front room of the inn, and both eating and drinking with a + good appetite. + </p> + <p> + Here it occurred to me that, as the landlord was a man of that county, I + might do well to make a friend of him. I offered him a share, as was much + the custom in those days; but he was far too great a man to sit with such + poor customers as Ransome and myself, and he was leaving the room, when I + called him back to ask if he knew Mr. Rankeillor. + </p> + <p> + "Hoot, ay," says he, "and a very honest man. And, O, by-the-by," says he, + "was it you that came in with Ebenezer?" And when I had told him yes, + "Ye'll be no friend of his?" he asked, meaning, in the Scottish way, that + I would be no relative. + </p> + <p> + I told him no, none. + </p> + <p> + "I thought not," said he, "and yet ye have a kind of gliff* of Mr. + Alexander." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Look. +</pre> + <p> + I said it seemed that Ebenezer was ill-seen in the country. + </p> + <p> + "Nae doubt," said the landlord. "He's a wicked auld man, and there's many + would like to see him girning in the tow*. Jennet Clouston and mony mair + that he has harried out of house and hame. And yet he was ance a fine + young fellow, too. But that was before the sough** gaed abroad about Mr. + Alexander, that was like the death of him." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Rope. + + ** Report. +</pre> + <p> + "And what was it?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "Ou, just that he had killed him," said the landlord. "Did ye never hear + that?" + </p> + <p> + "And what would he kill him for?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "And what for, but just to get the place," said he. + </p> + <p> + "The place?" said I. "The Shaws?" + </p> + <p> + "Nae other place that I ken," said he. + </p> + <p> + "Ay, man?" said I. "Is that so? Was my—was Alexander the eldest + son?" + </p> + <p> + "'Deed was he," said the landlord. "What else would he have killed him + for?" + </p> + <p> + And with that he went away, as he had been impatient to do from the + beginning. + </p> + <p> + Of course, I had guessed it a long while ago; but it is one thing to + guess, another to know; and I sat stunned with my good fortune, and could + scarce grow to believe that the same poor lad who had trudged in the dust + from Ettrick Forest not two days ago, was now one of the rich of the + earth, and had a house and broad lands, and might mount his horse + tomorrow. All these pleasant things, and a thousand others, crowded into + my mind, as I sat staring before me out of the inn window, and paying no + heed to what I saw; only I remember that my eye lighted on Captain + Hoseason down on the pier among his seamen, and speaking with some + authority. And presently he came marching back towards the house, with no + mark of a sailor's clumsiness, but carrying his fine, tall figure with a + manly bearing, and still with the same sober, grave expression on his + face. I wondered if it was possible that Ransome's stories could be true, + and half disbelieved them; they fitted so ill with the man's looks. But + indeed, he was neither so good as I supposed him, nor quite so bad as + Ransome did; for, in fact, he was two men, and left the better one behind + as soon as he set foot on board his vessel. + </p> + <p> + The next thing, I heard my uncle calling me, and found the pair in the + road together. It was the captain who addressed me, and that with an air + (very flattering to a young lad) of grave equality. + </p> + <p> + "Sir," said he, "Mr. Balfour tells me great things of you; and for my own + part, I like your looks. I wish I was for longer here, that we might make + the better friends; but we'll make the most of what we have. Ye shall come + on board my brig for half an hour, till the ebb sets, and drink a bowl + with me." + </p> + <p> + Now, I longed to see the inside of a ship more than words can tell; but I + was not going to put myself in jeopardy, and I told him my uncle and I had + an appointment with a lawyer. + </p> + <p> + "Ay, ay," said he, "he passed me word of that. But, ye see, the boat'll + set ye ashore at the town pier, and that's but a penny stonecast from + Rankeillor's house." And here he suddenly leaned down and whispered in my + ear: "Take care of the old tod;* he means mischief. Come aboard till I can + get a word with ye." And then, passing his arm through mine, he continued + aloud, as he set off towards his boat: "But, come, what can I bring ye + from the Carolinas? Any friend of Mr. Balfour's can command. A roll of + tobacco? Indian feather-work? a skin of a wild beast? a stone pipe? the + mocking-bird that mews for all the world like a cat? the cardinal bird + that is as red as blood?—take your pick and say your pleasure." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Fox. +</pre> + <p> + By this time we were at the boat-side, and he was handing me in. I did not + dream of hanging back; I thought (the poor fool!) that I had found a good + friend and helper, and I was rejoiced to see the ship. As soon as we were + all set in our places, the boat was thrust off from the pier and began to + move over the waters: and what with my pleasure in this new movement and + my surprise at our low position, and the appearance of the shores, and the + growing bigness of the brig as we drew near to it, I could hardly + understand what the captain said, and must have answered him at random. + </p> + <p> + As soon as we were alongside (where I sat fairly gaping at the ship's + height, the strong humming of the tide against its sides, and the pleasant + cries of the seamen at their work) Hoseason, declaring that he and I must + be the first aboard, ordered a tackle to be sent down from the main-yard. + In this I was whipped into the air and set down again on the deck, where + the captain stood ready waiting for me, and instantly slipped back his arm + under mine. There I stood some while, a little dizzy with the unsteadiness + of all around me, perhaps a little afraid, and yet vastly pleased with + these strange sights; the captain meanwhile pointing out the strangest, + and telling me their names and uses. + </p> + <p> + "But where is my uncle?" said I suddenly. + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said Hoseason, with a sudden grimness, "that's the point." + </p> + <p> + I felt I was lost. With all my strength, I plucked myself clear of him and + ran to the bulwarks. Sure enough, there was the boat pulling for the town, + with my uncle sitting in the stern. I gave a piercing cry—"Help, + help! Murder!"—so that both sides of the anchorage rang with it, and + my uncle turned round where he was sitting, and showed me a face full of + cruelty and terror. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0071m.jpg" alt="0071m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0071.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + It was the last I saw. Already strong hands had been plucking me back from + the ship's side; and now a thunderbolt seemed to strike me; I saw a great + flash of fire, and fell senseless. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0074m.jpg" alt="0074m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0074.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG "COVENANT" OF DYSART + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9074m.jpg" alt="9074m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9074.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + came to myself in darkness, in great pain, bound hand and foot, and + deafened by many unfamiliar noises. There sounded in my ears a roaring of + water as of a huge mill-dam, the thrashing of heavy sprays, the thundering + of the sails, and the shrill cries of seamen. The whole world now heaved + giddily up, and now rushed giddily downward; and so sick and hurt was I in + body, and my mind so much confounded, that it took me a long while, + chasing my thoughts up and down, and ever stunned again by a fresh stab of + pain, to realise that I must be lying somewhere bound in the belly of that + unlucky ship, and that the wind must have strengthened to a gale. With the + clear perception of my plight, there fell upon me a blackness of despair, + a horror of remorse at my own folly, and a passion of anger at my uncle, + that once more bereft me of my senses. + </p> + <p> + When I returned again to life, the same uproar, the same confused and + violent movements, shook and deafened me; and presently, to my other pains + and distresses, there was added the sickness of an unused landsman on the + sea. In that time of my adventurous youth, I suffered many hardships; but + none that was so crushing to my mind and body, or lit by so few hopes, as + these first hours aboard the brig. + </p> + <p> + I heard a gun fire, and supposed the storm had proved too strong for us, + and we were firing signals of distress. The thought of deliverance, even + by death in the deep sea, was welcome to me. Yet it was no such matter; + but (as I was afterwards told) a common habit of the captain's, which I + here set down to show that even the worst man may have his kindlier side. + We were then passing, it appeared, within some miles of Dysart, where the + brig was built, and where old Mrs. Hoseason, the captain's mother, had + come some years before to live; and whether outward or inward bound, the + Covenant was never suffered to go by that place by day, without a gun + fired and colours shown. + </p> + <p> + I had no measure of time; day and night were alike in that ill-smelling + cavern of the ship's bowels where I lay; and the misery of my situation + drew out the hours to double. How long, therefore, I lay waiting to hear + the ship split upon some rock, or to feel her reel head foremost into the + depths of the sea, I have not the means of computation. But sleep at + length stole from me the consciousness of sorrow. + </p> + <p> + I was awakened by the light of a hand-lantern shining in my face. A small + man of about thirty, with green eyes and a tangle of fair hair, stood + looking down at me. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0077m.jpg" alt="0077m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0077.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0079m.jpg" alt="0079m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0079.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + "Well," said he, "how goes it?" + </p> + <p> + I answered by a sob; and my visitor then felt my pulse and temples, and + set himself to wash and dress the wound upon my scalp. + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said he, "a sore dunt*. What, man? Cheer up! The world's no done; + you've made a bad start of it but you'll make a better. Have you had any + meat?" + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Stroke. +</pre> + <p> + I said I could not look at it: and thereupon he gave me some brandy and + water in a tin pannikin, and left me once more to myself. + </p> + <p> + The next time he came to see me, I was lying betwixt sleep and waking, my + eyes wide open in the darkness, the sickness quite departed, but succeeded + by a horrid giddiness and swimming that was almost worse to bear. I ached, + besides, in every limb, and the cords that bound me seemed to be of fire. + The smell of the hole in which I lay seemed to have become a part of me; + and during the long interval since his last visit I had suffered tortures + of fear, now from the scurrying of the ship's rats, that sometimes + pattered on my very face, and now from the dismal imaginings that haunt + the bed of fever. + </p> + <p> + The glimmer of the lantern, as a trap opened, shone in like the heaven's + sunlight; and though it only showed me the strong, dark beams of the ship + that was my prison, I could have cried aloud for gladness. The man with + the green eyes was the first to descend the ladder, and I noticed that he + came somewhat unsteadily. He was followed by the captain. Neither said a + word; but the first set to and examined me, and dressed my wound as + before, while Hoseason looked me in my face with an odd, black look. + </p> + <p> + "Now, sir, you see for yourself," said the first: "a high fever, no + appetite, no light, no meat: you see for yourself what that means." + </p> + <p> + "I am no conjurer, Mr. Riach," said the captain. + </p> + <p> + "Give me leave, sir," said Riach; "you've a good head upon your shoulders, + and a good Scotch tongue to ask with; but I will leave you no manner of + excuse; I want that boy taken out of this hole and put in the forecastle." + </p> + <p> + "What ye may want, sir, is a matter of concern to nobody but yoursel'," + returned the captain; "but I can tell ye that which is to be. Here he is; + here he shall bide." + </p> + <p> + "Admitting that you have been paid in a proportion," said the other, "I + will crave leave humbly to say that I have not. Paid I am, and none too + much, to be the second officer of this old tub, and you ken very well if I + do my best to earn it. But I was paid for nothing more." + </p> + <p> + "If ye could hold back your hand from the tin-pan, Mr. Riach, I would have + no complaint to make of ye," returned the skipper; "and instead of asking + riddles, I make bold to say that ye would keep your breath to cool your + porridge. We'll be required on deck," he added, in a sharper note, and set + one foot upon the ladder. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Riach caught him by the sleeve. + </p> + <p> + "Admitting that you have been paid to do a murder——" he began. + </p> + <p> + Hoseason turned upon him with a flash. + </p> + <p> + "What's that?" he cried. "What kind of talk is that?" + </p> + <p> + "It seems it is the talk that you can understand," said Mr. Riach, looking + him steadily in the face. + </p> + <p> + "Mr. Riach, I have sailed with ye three cruises," replied the captain. "In + all that time, sir, ye should have learned to know me: I'm a stiff man, + and a dour man; but for what ye say the now—fie, fie!—it comes + from a bad heart and a black conscience. If ye say the lad will die——" + </p> + <p> + "Ay, will he!" said Mr. Riach. + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir, is not that enough?" said Hoseason. "Flit him where ye + please!" + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the captain ascended the ladder; and I, who had lain silent + throughout this strange conversation, beheld Mr. Riach turn after him and + bow as low as to his knees in what was plainly a spirit of derision. Even + in my then state of sickness, I perceived two things: that the mate was + touched with liquor, as the captain hinted, and that (drunk or sober) he + was like to prove a valuable friend. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes afterwards my bonds were cut, I was hoisted on a man's back, + carried up to the forecastle, and laid in a bunk on some sea-blankets; + where the first thing that I did was to lose my senses. + </p> + <p> + It was a blessed thing indeed to open my eyes again upon the daylight, and + to find myself in the society of men. The forecastle was a roomy place + enough, set all about with berths, in which the men of the watch below + were seated smoking, or lying down asleep. The day being calm and the wind + fair, the scuttle was open, and not only the good daylight, but from time + to time (as the ship rolled) a dusty beam of sunlight shone in, and + dazzled and delighted me. I had no sooner moved, moreover, than one of the + men brought me a drink of something healing which Mr. Riach had prepared, + and bade me lie still and I should soon be well again. There were no bones + broken, he explained: "A clour* on the head was naething. Man," said he, + "it was me that gave it ye!" + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Blow. +</pre> + <p> + Here I lay for the space of many days a close prisoner, and not only got + my health again, but came to know my companions. They were a rough lot + indeed, as sailors mostly are: being men rooted out of all the kindly + parts of life, and condemned to toss together on the rough seas, with + masters no less cruel. There were some among them that had sailed with the + pirates and seen things it would be a shame even to speak of; some were + men that had run from the king's ships, and went with a halter round their + necks, of which they made no secret; and all, as the saying goes, were "at + a word and a blow" with their best friends. Yet I had not been many days + shut up with them before I began to be ashamed of my first judgment, when + I had drawn away from them at the Ferry pier, as though they had been + unclean beasts. No class of man is altogether bad, but each has its own + faults and virtues; and these shipmates of mine were no exception to the + rule. Rough they were, sure enough; and bad, I suppose; but they had many + virtues. They were kind when it occurred to them, simple even beyond the + simplicity of a country lad like me, and had some glimmerings of honesty. + </p> + <p> + There was one man, of maybe forty, that would sit on my berthside for + hours and tell me of his wife and child. He was a fisher that had lost his + boat, and thus been driven to the deep-sea voyaging. Well, it is years ago + now: but I have never forgotten him. His wife (who was "young by him," as + he often told me) waited in vain to see her man return; he would never + again make the fire for her in the morning, nor yet keep the bairn when + she was sick. Indeed, many of these poor fellows (as the event proved) + were upon their last cruise; the deep seas and cannibal fish received + them; and it is a thankless business to speak ill of the dead. + </p> + <p> + Among other good deeds that they did, they returned my money, which had + been shared among them; and though it was about a third short, I was very + glad to get it, and hoped great good from it in the land I was going to. + The ship was bound for the Carolinas; and you must not suppose that I was + going to that place merely as an exile. The trade was even then much + depressed; since that, and with the rebellion of the colonies and the + formation of the United States, it has, of course, come to an end; but in + those days of my youth, white men were still sold into slavery on the + plantations, and that was the destiny to which my wicked uncle had + condemned me. + </p> + <p> + The cabin-boy Ransome (from whom I had first heard of these atrocities) + came in at times from the round-house, where he berthed and served, now + nursing a bruised limb in silent agony, now raving against the cruelty of + Mr. Shuan. It made my heart bleed; but the men had a great respect for the + chief mate, who was, as they said, "the only seaman of the whole + jing-bang, and none such a bad man when he was sober." Indeed, I found + there was a strange peculiarity about our two mates: that Mr. Riach was + sullen, unkind, and harsh when he was sober, and Mr. Shuan would not hurt + a fly except when he was drinking. I asked about the captain; but I was + told drink made no difference upon that man of iron. + </p> + <p> + I did my best in the small time allowed me to make some thing like a man, + or rather I should say something like a boy, of the poor creature, + Ransome. But his mind was scarce truly human. He could remember nothing of + the time before he came to sea; only that his father had made clocks, and + had a starling in the parlour, which could whistle "The North Countrie;" + all else had been blotted out in these years of hardship and cruelties. He + had a strange notion of the dry land, picked up from sailor's stories: + that it was a place where lads were put to some kind of slavery called a + trade, and where apprentices were continually lashed and clapped into foul + prisons. In a town, he thought every second person a decoy, and every + third house a place in which seamen would be drugged and murdered. To be + sure, I would tell him how kindly I had myself been used upon that dry + land he was so much afraid of, and how well fed and carefully taught both + by my friends and my parents: and if he had been recently hurt, he would + weep bitterly and swear to run away; but if he was in his usual crackbrain + humour, or (still more) if he had had a glass of spirits in the + roundhouse, he would deride the notion. + </p> + <p> + It was Mr. Riach (Heaven forgive him!) who gave the boy drink; and it was, + doubtless, kindly meant; but besides that it was ruin to his health, it + was the pitifullest thing in life to see this unhappy, unfriended creature + staggering, and dancing, and talking he knew not what. Some of the men + laughed, but not all; others would grow as black as thunder (thinking, + perhaps, of their own childhood or their own children) and bid him stop + that nonsense, and think what he was doing. As for me, I felt ashamed to + look at him, and the poor child still comes about me in my dreams. + </p> + <p> + All this time, you should know, the Covenant was meeting continual + head-winds and tumbling up and down against head-seas, so that the scuttle + was almost constantly shut, and the forecastle lighted only by a swinging + lantern on a beam. There was constant labour for all hands; the sails had + to be made and shortened every hour; the strain told on the men's temper; + there was a growl of quarrelling all day long from berth to berth; and as + I was never allowed to set my foot on deck, you can picture to yourselves + how weary of my life I grew to be, and how impatient for a change. + </p> + <p> + And a change I was to get, as you shall hear; but I must first tell of a + conversation I had with Mr. Riach, which put a little heart in me to bear + my troubles. Getting him in a favourable stage of drink (for indeed he + never looked near me when he was sober), I pledged him to secrecy, and + told him my whole story. + </p> + <p> + He declared it was like a ballad; that he would do his best to help me; + that I should have paper, pen, and ink, and write one line to Mr. Campbell + and another to Mr. Rankeillor; and that if I had told the truth, ten to + one he would be able (with their help) to pull me through and set me in my + rights. + </p> + <p> + "And in the meantime," says he, "keep your heart up. You're not the only + one, I'll tell you that. There's many a man hoeing tobacco over-seas that + should be mounting his horse at his own door at home; many and many! And + life is all a variorum, at the best. Look at me: I'm a laird's son and + more than half a doctor, and here I am, man-Jack to Hoseason!" + </p> + <p> + I thought it would be civil to ask him for his story. + </p> + <p> + He whistled loud. + </p> + <p> + "Never had one," said he. "I like fun, that's all." And he skipped out of + the forecastle. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0086m.jpg" alt="0086m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0086.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE ROUND-HOUSE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9086m.jpg" alt="9086m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9086.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + ne night, about eleven o'clock, a man of Mr. Riach's watch (which was on + deck) came below for his jacket; and instantly there began to go a whisper + about the forecastle that "Shuan had done for him at last." There was no + need of a name; we all knew who was meant; but we had scarce time to get + the idea rightly in our heads, far less to speak of it, when the scuttle + was again flung open, and Captain Hoseason came down the ladder. He looked + sharply round the bunks in the tossing light of the lantern; and then, + walking straight up to me, he addressed me, to my surprise, in tones of + kindness. + </p> + <p> + "My man," said he, "we want ye to serve in the round-house. You and + Ransome are to change berths. Run away aft with ye." + </p> + <p> + Even as he spoke, two seamen appeared in the scuttle, carrying Ransome in + their arms; and the ship at that moment giving a great sheer into the sea, + and the lantern swinging, the light fell direct on the boy's face. It was + as white as wax, and had a look upon it like a dreadful smile. The blood + in me ran cold, and I drew in my breath as if I had been struck. + </p> + <p> + "Run away aft; run away aft with ye!" cried Hoseason. + </p> + <p> + And at that I brushed by the sailors and the boy (who neither spoke nor + moved), and ran up the ladder on deck. + </p> + <p> + The brig was sheering swiftly and giddily through a long, cresting swell. + She was on the starboard tack, and on the left hand, under the arched foot + of the foresail, I could see the sunset still quite bright. This, at such + an hour of the night, surprised me greatly; but I was too ignorant to draw + the true conclusion—that we were going north-about round Scotland, + and were now on the high sea between the Orkney and Shetland Islands, + having avoided the dangerous currents of the Pentland Firth. For my part, + who had been so long shut in the dark and knew nothing of head-winds, I + thought we might be half-way or more across the Atlantic. And indeed + (beyond that I wondered a little at the lateness of the sunset light) I + gave no heed to it, and pushed on across the decks, running between the + seas, catching at ropes, and only saved from going overboard by one of the + hands on deck, who had been always kind to me. + </p> + <p> + The round-house, for which I was bound, and where I was now to sleep and + serve, stood some six feet above the decks, and considering the size of + the brig, was of good dimensions. Inside were a fixed table and bench, and + two berths, one for the captain and the other for the two mates, turn and + turn about. It was all fitted with lockers from top to bottom, so as to + stow away the officers' belongings and a part of the ship's stores; there + was a second store-room underneath, which you entered by a hatchway in the + middle of the deck; indeed, all the best of the meat and drink and the + whole of the powder were collected in this place; and all the firearms, + except the two pieces of brass ordnance, were set in a rack in the + aftermost wall of the round-house. The most of the cutlasses were in + another place. + </p> + <p> + A small window with a shutter on each side, and a skylight in the roof, + gave it light by day; and after dark there was a lamp always burning. It + was burning when I entered, not brightly, but enough to show Mr. Shuan + sitting at the table, with the brandy bottle and a tin pannikin in front + of him. He was a tall man, strongly made and very black; and he stared + before him on the table like one stupid. + </p> + <p> + He took no notice of my coming in; nor did he move when the captain + followed and leant on the berth beside me, looking darkly at the mate. I + stood in great fear of Hoseason, and had my reasons for it; but something + told me I need not be afraid of him just then; and I whispered in his ear: + "How is he?" He shook his head like one that does not know and does not + wish to think, and his face was very stern. + </p> + <p> + Presently Mr. Riach came in. He gave the captain a glance that meant the + boy was dead as plain as speaking, and took his place like the rest of us; + so that we all three stood without a word, staring down at Mr. Shuan, and + Mr. Shuan (on his side) sat without a word, looking hard upon the table. + </p> + <p> + All of a sudden he put out his hand to take the bottle; and at that Mr. + Riach started forward and caught it away from him, rather by surprise than + violence, crying out, with an oath, that there had been too much of this + work altogether, and that a judgment would fall upon the ship. And as he + spoke (the weather sliding-doors standing open) he tossed the bottle into + the sea. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Shuan was on his feet in a trice; he still looked dazed, but he meant + murder, ay, and would have done it, for the second time that night, had + not the captain stepped in between him and his victim. + </p> + <p> + "Sit down!" roars the captain. "Ye sot and swine, do ye know what ye've + done? Ye've murdered the boy!" + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0089m.jpg" alt="0089m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0089.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Mr. Shuan seemed to understand; for he sat down again, and put up his hand + to his brow. + </p> + <p> + "Well," he said, "he brought me a dirty pannikin!" + </p> + <p> + At that word, the captain and I and Mr. Riach all looked at each other for + a second with a kind of frightened look; and then Hoseason walked up to + his chief officer, took him by the shoulder, led him across to his bunk, + and bade him lie down and go to sleep, as you might speak to a bad child. + The murderer cried a little, but he took off his sea-boots and obeyed. + </p> + <p> + "Ah!" cried Mr. Riach, with a dreadful voice, "ye should have interfered + long syne. It's too late now." + </p> + <p> + "Mr. Riach," said the captain, "this night's work must never be kennt in + Dysart. The boy went overboard, sir; that's what the story is; and I would + give five pounds out of my pocket it was true!" He turned to the table. + "What made ye throw the good bottle away?" he added. "There was nae sense + in that, sir. Here, David, draw me another. They're in the bottom locker;" + and he tossed me a key. "Ye'll need a glass yourself, sir," he added to + Riach. "Yon was an ugly thing to see." + </p> + <p> + So the pair sat down and hob-a-nobbed; and while they did so, the + murderer, who had been lying and whimpering in his berth, raised himself + upon his elbow and looked at them and at me. + </p> + <p> + That was the first night of my new duties; and in the course of the next + day I had got well into the run of them. I had to serve at the meals, + which the captain took at regular hours, sitting down with the officer who + was off duty; all the day through I would be running with a dram to one or + other of my three masters; and at night I slept on a blanket thrown on the + deck boards at the aftermost end of the round-house, and right in the + draught of the two doors. It was a hard and a cold bed; nor was I suffered + to sleep without interruption; for some one would be always coming in from + deck to get a dram, and when a fresh watch was to be set, two and + sometimes all three would sit down and brew a bowl together. How they kept + their health, I know not, any more than how I kept my own. + </p> + <p> + And yet in other ways it was an easy service. There was no cloth to lay; + the meals were either of oatmeal porridge or salt junk, except twice a + week, when there was duff: and though I was clumsy enough and (not being + firm on my sealegs) sometimes fell with what I was bringing them, both Mr. + Riach and the captain were singularly patient. I could not but fancy they + were making up lee-way with their consciences, and that they would scarce + have been so good with me if they had not been worse with Ransome. + </p> + <p> + As for Mr. Shuan, the drink or his crime, or the two together, had + certainly troubled his mind. I cannot say I ever saw him in his proper + wits. He never grew used to my being there, stared at me continually + (sometimes, I could have thought, with terror), and more than once drew + back from my hand when I was serving him. I was pretty sure from the first + that he had no clear mind of what he had done, and on my second day in the + round-house I had the proof of it. We were alone, and he had been staring + at me a long time, when all at once, up he got, as pale as death, and came + close up to me, to my great terror. But I had no cause to be afraid of + him. + </p> + <p> + "You were not here before?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "No, sir," said I." + </p> + <p> + "There was another boy?" he asked again; and when I had answered him, + "Ah!" says he, "I thought that," and went and sat down, without another + word, except to call for brandy. + </p> + <p> + You may think it strange, but for all the horror I had, I was still sorry + for him. He was a married man, with a wife in Leith; but whether or no he + had a family, I have now forgotten; I hope not. + </p> + <p> + Altogether it was no very hard life for the time it lasted, which (as you + are to hear) was not long. I was as well fed as the best of them; even + their pickles, which were the great dainty, I was allowed my share of; and + had I liked I might have been drunk from morning to night, like Mr. Shuan. + I had company, too, and good company of its sort. Mr. Riach, who had been + to the college, spoke to me like a friend when he was not sulking, and + told me many curious things, and some that were informing; and even the + captain, though he kept me at the stick's end the most part of the time, + would sometimes unbuckle a bit, and tell me of the fine countries he had + visited. + </p> + <p> + The shadow of poor Ransome, to be sure, lay on all four of us, and on me + and Mr. Shuan in particular, most heavily. And then I had another trouble + of my own. Here I was, doing dirty work for three men that I looked down + upon, and one of whom, at least, should have hung upon a gallows; that was + for the present; and as for the future, I could only see myself slaving + alongside of negroes in the tobacco fields. Mr. Riach, perhaps from + caution, would never suffer me to say another word about my story; the + captain, whom I tried to approach, rebuffed me like a dog and would not + hear a word; and as the days came and went, my heart sank lower and lower, + till I was even glad of the work which kept me from thinking. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0094m.jpg" alt="0094m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0094.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9094m.jpg" alt="9094m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9094.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + ore than a week went by, in which the ill-luck that had hitherto pursued + the Covenant upon this voyage grew yet more strongly marked. Some days she + made a little way; others, she was driven actually back. At last we were + beaten so far to the south that we tossed and tacked to and fro the whole + of the ninth day, within sight of Cape Wrath and the wild, rocky coast on + either hand of it. There followed on that a council of the officers, and + some decision which I did not rightly understand, seeing only the result: + that we had made a fair wind of a foul one and were running south. + </p> + <p> + The tenth afternoon there was a falling swell and a thick, wet, white fog + that hid one end of the brig from the other. All afternoon, when I went on + deck, I saw men and officers listening hard over the bulwarks—"for + breakers," they said; and though I did not so much as understand the word, + I felt danger in the air, and was excited. + </p> + <p> + Maybe about ten at night, I was serving Mr. Riach and the captain at their + supper, when the ship struck something with a great sound, and we heard + voices singing out. My two masters leaped to their feet. + </p> + <p> + "She's struck!" said Mr. Riach. + </p> + <p> + "No, sir," said the captain. "We've only run a boat down." + </p> + <p> + And they hurried out. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0097m.jpg" alt="0097m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0097.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + The captain was in the right of it. We had run down a boat in the fog, and + she had parted in the midst and gone to the bottom with all her crew but + one. This man (as I heard afterwards) had been sitting in the stern as a + passenger, while the rest were on the benches rowing. At the moment of the + blow, the stern had been thrown into the air, and the man (having his + hands free, and for all he was encumbered with a frieze overcoat that came + below his knees) had leaped up and caught hold of the brig's bowsprit. It + showed he had luck and much agility and unusual strength, that he should + have thus saved himself from such a pass. And yet, when the captain + brought him into the round-house, and I set eyes on him for the first + time, he looked as cool as I did. + </p> + <p> + He was smallish in stature, but well set and as nimble as a goat; his face + was of a good open expression, but sunburnt very dark, and heavily + freckled and pitted with the small-pox; his eyes were unusually light and + had a kind of dancing madness in them, that was both engaging and + alarming; and when he took off his great-coat, he laid a pair of fine + silver-mounted pistols on the table, and I saw that he was belted with a + great sword. His manners, besides, were elegant, and he pledged the + captain handsomely. Altogether I thought of him, at the first sight, that + here was a man I would rather call my friend than my enemy. + </p> + <p> + The captain, too, was taking his observations, but rather of the man's + clothes than his person. And to be sure, as soon as he had taken off the + great-coat, he showed forth mighty fine for the round-house of a merchant + brig: having a hat with feathers, a red waistcoat, breeches of black + plush, and a blue coat with silver buttons and handsome silver lace; + costly clothes, though somewhat spoiled with the fog and being slept in. + </p> + <p> + "I'm vexed, sir, about the boat," says the captain. + </p> + <p> + "There are some pretty men gone to the bottom," said the stranger, "that I + would rather see on the dry land again than half a score of boats." + </p> + <p> + "Friends of yours?" said Hoseason. + </p> + <p> + "You have none such friends in your country," was the reply. "They would + have died for me like dogs." + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir," said the captain, still watching him, "there are more men in + the world than boats to put them in." + </p> + <p> + "And that's true, too," cried the other, "and ye seem to be a gentleman of + great penetration." + </p> + <p> + "I have been in France, sir," says the captain, so that it was plain he + meant more by the words than showed upon the face of them. + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir," says the other, "and so has many a pretty man, for the matter + of that." + </p> + <p> + "No doubt, sir," says the captain, "and fine coats." + </p> + <p> + "Oho!" says the stranger, "is that how the wind sets?" And he laid his + hand quickly on his pistols. + </p> + <p> + "Don't be hasty," said the captain. "Don't do a mischief before ye see the + need of it. Ye've a French soldier's coat upon your back and a Scotch + tongue in your head, to be sure; but so has many an honest fellow in these + days, and I dare say none the worse of it." + </p> + <p> + "So?" said the gentleman in the fine coat: "are ye of the honest party?" + (meaning, Was he a Jacobite? for each side, in these sort of civil broils, + takes the name of honesty for its own). + </p> + <p> + "Why, sir," replied the captain, "I am a true-blue Protestant, and I thank + God for it." (It was the first word of any religion I had ever heard from + him, but I learnt afterwards he was a great church-goer while on shore.) + "But, for all that," says he, "I can be sorry to see another man with his + back to the wall." + </p> + <p> + "Can ye so, indeed?" asked the Jacobite. "Well, sir, to be quite plain + with ye, I am one of those honest gentlemen that were in trouble about the + years forty-five and six; and (to be still quite plain with ye) if I got + into the hands of any of the red-coated gentry, it's like it would go hard + with me. Now, sir, I was for France; and there was a French ship cruising + here to pick me up; but she gave us the go-by in the fog—as I wish + from the heart that ye had done yoursel'! And the best that I can say is + this: If ye can set me ashore where I was going, I have that upon me will + reward you highly for your trouble." + </p> + <p> + "In France?" says the captain. "No, sir; that I cannot do. But where ye + come from—we might talk of that." + </p> + <p> + And then, unhappily, he observed me standing in my corner, and packed me + off to the galley to get supper for the gentleman. I lost no time, I + promise you; and when I came back into the round-house, I found the + gentleman had taken a money-belt from about his waist, and poured out a + guinea or two upon the table. The captain was looking at the guineas, and + then at the belt, and then at the gentleman's face; and I thought he + seemed excited. + </p> + <p> + "Half of it," he cried, "and I'm your man!" + </p> + <p> + The other swept back the guineas into the belt, and put it on again under + his waistcoat. "I have told ye sir," said he, "that not one doit of it + belongs to me. It belongs to my chieftain," and here he touched his hat, + "and while I would be but a silly messenger to grudge some of it that the + rest might come safe, I should show myself a hound indeed if I bought my + own carcase any too dear. Thirty guineas on the sea-side, or sixty if ye + set me on the Linnhe Loch. Take it, if ye will; if not, ye can do your + worst." + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said Hoseason. "And if I give ye over to the soldiers?" + </p> + <p> + "Ye would make a fool's bargain," said the other. "My chief, let me tell + you, sir, is forfeited, like every honest man in Scotland. His estate is + in the hands of the man they call King George; and it is his officers that + collect the rents, or try to collect them. But for the honour of Scotland, + the poor tenant bodies take a thought upon their chief lying in exile; and + this money is a part of that very rent for which King George is looking. + Now, sir, ye seem to me to be a man that understands things: bring this + money within the reach of Government, and how much of it'll come to you?" + </p> + <p> + "Little enough, to be sure," said Hoseason; and then, "if they knew," he + added, drily. "But I think, if I was to try, that I could hold my tongue + about it." + </p> + <p> + "Ah, but I'll begowk* ye there!" cried the gentleman. "Play me false, and + I'll play you cunning. If a hand is laid upon me, they shall ken what + money it is." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Befool. +</pre> + <p> + "Well," returned the captain, "what must be must. Sixty guineas, and done. + Here's my hand upon it." + </p> + <p> + "And here's mine," said the other. + </p> + <p> + And thereupon the captain went out (rather hurriedly, I thought), and left + me alone in the round-house with the stranger. + </p> + <p> + At that period (so soon after the forty-five) there were many exiled + gentlemen coming back at the peril of their lives, either to see their + friends or to collect a little money; and as for the Highland chiefs that + had been forfeited, it was a common matter of talk how their tenants would + stint themselves to send them money, and their clansmen outface the + soldiery to get it in, and run the gauntlet of our great navy to carry it + across. All this I had, of course, heard tell of; and now I had a man + under my eyes whose life was forfeit on all these counts and upon one + more, for he was not only a rebel and a smuggler of rents, but had taken + service with King Louis of France. And as if all this were not enough, he + had a belt full of golden guineas round his loins. Whatever my opinions, I + could not look on such a man without a lively interest. + </p> + <p> + "And so you're a Jacobite?" said I, as I set meat before him. + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said he, beginning to eat. "And you, by your long face, should be a + Whig?"* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Whig or Whigamore was the cant name for those who were + loyal to King George. +</pre> + <p> + "Betwixt and between," said I, not to annoy him; for indeed I was as good + a Whig as Mr. Campbell could make me. + </p> + <p> + "And that's naething," said he. "But I'm saying, Mr. Betwixt-and-Between," + he added, "this bottle of yours is dry; and it's hard if I'm to pay sixty + guineas and be grudged a dram upon the back of it." + </p> + <p> + "I'll go and ask for the key," said I, and stepped on deck. + </p> + <p> + The fog was as close as ever, but the swell almost down. They had laid the + brig to, not knowing precisely where they were, and the wind (what little + there was of it) not serving well for their true course. Some of the hands + were still hearkening for breakers; but the captain and the two officers + were in the waist with their heads together. It struck me (I don't know + why) that they were after no good; and the first word I heard, as I drew + softly near, more than confirmed me. + </p> + <p> + It was Mr. Riach, crying out as if upon a sudden thought: "Couldn't we + wile him out of the round-house?" + </p> + <p> + "He's better where he is," returned Hoseason; "he hasn't room to use his + sword." + </p> + <p> + "Well, that's true," said Riach; "but he's hard to come at." + </p> + <p> + "Hut!" said Hoseason. "We can get the man in talk, one upon each side, and + pin him by the two arms; or if that'll not hold, sir, we can make a run by + both the doors and get him under hand before he has the time to draw." + </p> + <p> + At this hearing, I was seized with both fear and anger at these + treacherous, greedy, bloody men that I sailed with. My first mind was to + run away; my second was bolder. + </p> + <p> + "Captain," said I, "the gentleman is seeking a dram, and the bottle's out. + Will you give me the key?" + </p> + <p> + They all started and turned about. + </p> + <p> + "Why, here's our chance to get the firearms!" + </p> + <p> + Riach cried; and then to me: "Hark ye, David," he said, "do ye ken where + the pistols are?" + </p> + <p> + "Ay, ay," put in Hoseason. "David kens; David's a good lad. Ye see, David + my man, yon wild Hielandman is a danger to the ship, besides being a rank + foe to King George, God bless him!" + </p> + <p> + I had never been so be-Davided since I came on board: but I said Yes, as + if all I heard were quite natural. + </p> + <p> + "The trouble is," resumed the captain, "that all our firelocks, great and + little, are in the round-house under this man's nose; likewise the powder. + Now, if I, or one of the officers, was to go in and take them, he would + fall to thinking. But a lad like you, David, might snap up a horn and a + pistol or two without remark. And if ye can do it cleverly, I'll bear it + in mind when it'll be good for you to have friends; and that's when we + come to Carolina." + </p> + <p> + Here Mr. Riach whispered him a little. + </p> + <p> + "Very right, sir," said the captain; and then to myself: "And see here, + David, yon man has a beltful of gold, and I give you my word that you + shall have your fingers in it." + </p> + <p> + I told him I would do as he wished, though indeed I had scarce breath to + speak with; and upon that he gave me the key of the spirit locker, and I + began to go slowly back to the round-house. What was I to do? They were + dogs and thieves; they had stolen me from my own country; they had killed + poor Ransome; and was I to hold the candle to another murder? But then, + upon the other hand, there was the fear of death very plain before me; for + what could a boy and a man, if they were as brave as lions, against a + whole ship's company? + </p> + <p> + I was still arguing it back and forth, and getting no great clearness, + when I came into the round-house and saw the Jacobite eating his supper + under the lamp; and at that my mind was made up all in a moment. I have no + credit by it; it was by no choice of mine, but as if by compulsion, that I + walked right up to the table and put my hand on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + "Do ye want to be killed?" said I. He sprang to his feet, and looked a + question at me as clear as if he had spoken. + </p> + <p> + "O!" cried I, "they're all murderers here; it's a ship full of them! + They've murdered a boy already. Now it's you." + </p> + <p> + "Ay, ay," said he; "but they have n't got me yet." And then looking at me + curiously, "Will ye stand with me?" + </p> + <p> + "That will I!" said I. "I am no thief, nor yet murderer. I'll stand by + you." + </p> + <p> + "Why, then," said he, "what's your name?" + </p> + <p> + "David Balfour," said I; and then, thinking that a man with so fine a coat + must like fine people, I added for the first time, "of Shaws." + </p> + <p> + It never occurred to him to doubt me, for a Highlander is used to see + great gentlefolk in great poverty; but as he had no estate of his own, my + words nettled a very childish vanity he had. + </p> + <p> + "My name is Stewart," he said, drawing himself up. "Alan Breck, they call + me. A king's name is good enough for me, though I bear it plain and have + the name of no farm-midden to clap to the hind-end of it." + </p> + <p> + And having administered this rebuke, as though it were something of a + chief importance, he turned to examine our defences. + </p> + <p> + The round-house was built very strong, to support the breaching of the + seas. Of its five apertures, only the skylight and the two doors were + large enough for the passage of a man. The doors, besides, could be drawn + close: they were of stout oak, and ran in grooves, and were fitted with + hooks to keep them either shut or open, as the need arose. The one that + was already shut I secured in this fashion; but when I was proceeding to + slide to the other, Alan stopped me. + </p> + <p> + "David," said he—"for I cannae bring to mind the name of your landed + estate, and so will make so bold as to call you David—that door, + being open, is the best part of my defences." + </p> + <p> + "It would be yet better shut," says I. + </p> + <p> + "Not so, David," says he. "Ye see, I have but one face; but so long as + that door is open and my face to it, the best part of my enemies will be + in front of me, where I would aye wish to find them." + </p> + <p> + Then he gave me from the rack a cutlass (of which there were a few besides + the firearms), choosing it with great care, shaking his head and saying he + had never in all his life seen poorer weapons; and next he set me down to + the table with a powder-horn, a bag of bullets and all the pistols, which + he bade me charge. + </p> + <p> + "And that will be better work, let me tell you," said he, "for a gentleman + of decent birth, than scraping plates and raxing* drams to a wheen tarry + sailors." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Reaching. +</pre> + <p> + Thereupon he stood up in the midst with his face to the door, and drawing + his great sword, made trial of the room he had to wield it in. + </p> + <p> + "I must stick to the point," he said, shaking his head; "and that's a + pity, too. It doesn't set my genius, which is all for the upper guard. + And, now," said he, "do you keep on charging the pistols, and give heed to + me." + </p> + <p> + I told him I would listen closely. My chest was tight, my mouth dry, the + light dark to my eyes; the thought of the numbers that were soon to leap + in upon us kept my heart in a flutter: and the sea, which I heard washing + round the brig, and where I thought my dead body would be cast ere + morning, ran in my mind strangely. + </p> + <p> + "First of all," said he, "how many are against us?" + </p> + <p> + I reckoned them up; and such was the hurry of my mind, I had to cast the + numbers twice. "Fifteen," said I. + </p> + <p> + Alan whistled. "Well," said he, "that can't be cured. And now follow me. + It is my part to keep this door, where I look for the main battle. In + that, ye have no hand. And mind and dinnae fire to this side unless they + get me down; for I would rather have ten foes in front of me than one + friend like you cracking pistols at my back." + </p> + <p> + I told him, indeed I was no great shot. + </p> + <p> + "And that's very bravely said," he cried, in a great admiration of my + candour. "There's many a pretty gentleman that wouldnae dare to say it." + </p> + <p> + "But then, sir," said I, "there is the door behind you, which they may + perhaps break in." + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said he, "and that is a part of your work. No sooner the pistols + charged, than ye must climb up into yon bed where ye're handy at the + window; and if they lift hand against the door, ye're to shoot. But that's + not all. Let's make a bit of a soldier of ye, David. What else have ye to + guard?" + </p> + <p> + "There's the skylight," said I. "But indeed, Mr. Stewart, I would need to + have eyes upon both sides to keep the two of them; for when my face is at + the one, my back is to the other." + </p> + <p> + "And that's very true," said Alan. "But have ye no ears to your head?" + </p> + <p> + "To be sure!" cried I. "I must hear the bursting of the glass!" + </p> + <p> + "Ye have some rudiments of sense," said Alan, grimly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0106m.jpg" alt="0106m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0106.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9106m.jpg" alt="9106m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9106.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + ut now our time of truce was come to an end. Those on deck had waited for + my coming till they grew impatient; and scarce had Alan spoken, when the + captain showed face in the open door. + </p> + <p> + "Stand!" cried Alan, and pointed his sword at him. The captain stood, + indeed; but he neither winced nor drew back a foot. + </p> + <p> + "A naked sword?" says he. "This is a strange return for hospitality." + </p> + <p> + "Do ye see me?" said Alan. "I am come of kings; I bear a king's name. My + badge is the oak. Do ye see my sword? It has slashed the heads off mair + Whigamores than you have toes upon your feet. Call up your vermin to your + back, sir, and fall on! The sooner the clash begins, the sooner ye'll + taste this steel throughout your vitals." + </p> + <p> + The captain said nothing to Alan, but he looked over at me with an ugly + look. "David," said he, "I'll mind this;" and the sound of his voice went + through me with a jar. + </p> + <p> + Next moment he was gone. + </p> + <p> + "And now," said Alan, "let your hand keep your head, for the grip is + coming." + </p> + <p> + Alan drew a dirk, which he held in his left hand in case they should run + in under his sword. I, on my part, clambered up into the berth with an + armful of pistols and something of a heavy heart, and set open the window + where I was to watch. It was a small part of the deck that I could + overlook, but enough for our purpose. The sea had gone down, and the wind + was steady and kept the sails quiet; so that there was a great stillness + in the ship, in which I made sure I heard the sound of muttering voices. A + little after, and there came a clash of steel upon the deck, by which I + knew they were dealing out the cutlasses and one had been let fall; and + after that, silence again. + </p> + <p> + I do not know if I was what you call afraid; but my heart beat like a + bird's, both quick and little; and there was a dimness came before my eyes + which I continually rubbed away, and which continually returned. As for + hope, I had none; but only a darkness of despair and a sort of anger + against all the world that made me long to sell my life as dear as I was + able. I tried to pray, I remember, but that same hurry of my mind, like a + man running, would not suffer me to think upon the words; and my chief + wish was to have the thing begin and be done with it. + </p> + <p> + It came all of a sudden when it did, with a rush of feet and a roar, and + then a shout from Alan, and a sound of blows and some one crying out as if + hurt. I looked back over my shoulder, and saw Mr. Shuan in the doorway, + crossing blades with Alan. + </p> + <p> + "That's him that killed the boy!" I cried. + </p> + <p> + "Look to your window!" said Alan; and as I turned back to my place, I saw + him pass his sword through the mate's body. + </p> + <p> + It was none too soon for me to look to my own part; for my head was scarce + back at the window, before five men, carrying a spare yard for a + battering-ram, ran past me and took post to drive the door in. I had never + fired with a pistol in my life, and not often with a gun; far less against + a fellow-creature. But it was now or never; and just as they swang the + yard, I cried out: "Take that!" and shot into their midst. + </p> + <p> + I must have hit one of them, for he sang out and gave back a step, and the + rest stopped as if a little disconcerted. Before they had time to recover, + I sent another ball over their heads; and at my third shot (which went as + wide as the second) the whole party threw down the yard and ran for it. + </p> + <p> + Then I looked round again into the deck-house. The whole place was full of + the smoke of my own firing, just as my ears seemed to be burst with the + noise of the shots. But there was Alan, standing as before; only now his + sword was running blood to the hilt, and himself so swelled with triumph + and fallen into so fine an attitude, that he looked to be invincible. + Right before him on the floor was Mr. Shuan, on his hands and knees; the + blood was pouring from his mouth, and he was sinking slowly lower, with a + terrible, white face; and just as I looked, some of those from behind + caught hold of him by the heels and dragged him bodily out of the + round-house. I believe he died as they were doing it. + </p> + <p> + "There's one of your Whigs for ye!" cried Alan; and then turning to me, he + asked if I had done much execution. + </p> + <p> + I told him I had winged one, and thought it was the captain. + </p> + <p> + "And I've settled two," says he. "No, there's not enough blood let; + they'll be back again. To your watch, David. This was but a dram before + meat." + </p> + <p> + I settled back to my place, re-charging the three pistols I had fired, and + keeping watch with both eye and ear. + </p> + <p> + Our enemies were disputing not far off upon the deck, and that so loudly + that I could hear a word or two above the washing of the seas. + </p> + <p> + "It was Shuan bauchled* it," I heard one say. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Bungled. +</pre> + <p> + And another answered him with a "Wheesht, man! He's paid the piper." + </p> + <p> + After that the voices fell again into the same muttering as before. Only + now, one person spoke most of the time, as though laying down a plan, and + first one and then another answered him briefly, like men taking orders. + By this, I made sure they were coming on again, and told Alan. + </p> + <p> + "It's what we have to pray for," said he. "Unless we can give them a good + distaste of us, and done with it, there'll be nae sleep for either you or + me. But this time, mind, they'll be in earnest." + </p> + <p> + By this, my pistols were ready, and there was nothing to do but listen and + wait. While the brush lasted, I had not the time to think if I was + frighted; but now, when all was still again, my mind ran upon nothing + else. The thought of the sharp swords and the cold steel was strong in me; + and presently, when I began to hear stealthy steps and a brushing of men's + clothes against the round-house wall, and knew they were taking their + places in the dark, I could have found it in my mind to cry out aloud. + </p> + <p> + All this was upon Alan's side; and I had begun to think my share of the + fight was at an end, when I heard some one drop softly on the roof above + me. + </p> + <p> + Then there came a single call on the sea-pipe, and that was the signal. A + knot of them made one rush of it, cutlass in hand, against the door; and + at the same moment, the glass of the skylight was dashed in a thousand + pieces, and a man leaped through and landed on the floor. Before he got + his feet, I had clapped a pistol to his back, and might have shot him, + too; only at the touch of him (and him alive) my whole flesh misgave me, + and I could no more pull the trigger than I could have flown. + </p> + <p> + He had dropped his cutlass as he jumped, and when he felt the pistol, + whipped straight round and laid hold of me, roaring out an oath; and at + that either my courage came again, or I grew so much afraid as came to the + same thing; for I gave a shriek and shot him in the midst of the body. He + gave the most horrible, ugly groan and fell to the floor. The foot of a + second fellow, whose legs were dangling through the skylight, struck me at + the same time upon the head; and at that I snatched another pistol and + shot this one through the thigh, so that he slipped through and tumbled in + a lump on his companion's body. There was no talk of missing, any more + than there was time to aim; I clapped the muzzle to the very place and + fired. + </p> + <p> + I might have stood and stared at them for long, but I heard Alan shout as + if for help, and that brought me to my senses. + </p> + <p> + He had kept the door so long; but one of the seamen, while he was engaged + with others, had run in under his guard and caught him about the body. + Alan was dirking him with his left hand, but the fellow clung like a + leech. Another had broken in and had his cutlass raised. The door was + thronged with their faces. I thought we were lost, and catching up my + cutlass, fell on them in flank. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0111m.jpg" alt="0111m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0111.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + But I had not time to be of help. The wrestler dropped at last; and Alan, + leaping back to get his distance, ran upon the others like a bull, roaring + as he went. They broke before him like water, turning, and running, and + falling one against another in their haste. The sword in his hands flashed + like quicksilver into the huddle of our fleeing enemies; and at every + flash there came the scream of a man hurt. I was still thinking we were + lost, when lo! they were all gone, and Alan was driving them along the + deck as a sheep-dog chases sheep. + </p> + <p> + Yet he was no sooner out than he was back again, being as cautious as he + was brave; and meanwhile the seamen continued running and crying out as if + he was still behind them; and we heard them tumble one upon another into + the forecastle, and clap-to the hatch upon the top. + </p> + <p> + The round-house was like a shambles; three were dead inside, another lay + in his death agony across the threshold; and there were Alan and I + victorious and unhurt. + </p> + <p> + He came up to me with open arms. "Come to my arms!" he cried, and embraced + and kissed me hard upon both cheeks. "David," said he, "I love you like a + brother. And O, man," he cried in a kind of ecstasy, "am I no a bonny + fighter?" + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he turned to the four enemies, passed his sword clean through + each of them, and tumbled them out of doors one after the other. As he did + so, he kept humming and singing and whistling to himself, like a man + trying to recall an air; only what HE was trying was to make one. All the + while, the flush was in his face, and his eyes were as bright as a + five-year-old child's with a new toy. And presently he sat down upon the + table, sword in hand; the air that he was making all the time began to run + a little clearer, and then clearer still; and then out he burst with a + great voice into a Gaelic song. + </p> + <p> + I have translated it here, not in verse (of which I have no skill) but at + least in the king's English. + </p> + <p> + He sang it often afterwards, and the thing became popular; so that I have + heard it and had it explained to me, many's the time. + </p> + <p> + "This is the song of the sword of Alan; The smith made it, The fire set + it; Now it shines in the hand of Alan Breck. + </p> + <p> + "Their eyes were many and bright, Swift were they to behold, Many the + hands they guided: The sword was alone. + </p> + <p> + "The dun deer troop over the hill, They are many, the hill is one; The dun + deer vanish, The hill remains. + </p> + <p> + "Come to me from the hills of heather, Come from the isles of the sea. O + far-beholding eagles, Here is your meat." + </p> + <p> + Now this song which he made (both words and music) in the hour of our + victory, is something less than just to me, who stood beside him in the + tussle. Mr. Shuan and five more were either killed outright or thoroughly + disabled; but of these, two fell by my hand, the two that came by the + skylight. Four more were hurt, and of that number, one (and he not the + least important) got his hurt from me. So that, altogether, I did my fair + share both of the killing and the wounding, and might have claimed a place + in Alan's verses. But poets have to think upon their rhymes; and in good + prose talk, Alan always did me more than justice. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile, I was innocent of any wrong being done me. For not only + I knew no word of the Gaelic; but what with the long suspense of the + waiting, and the scurry and strain of our two spirts of fighting, and more + than all, the horror I had of some of my own share in it, the thing was no + sooner over than I was glad to stagger to a seat. There was that tightness + on my chest that I could hardly breathe; the thought of the two men I had + shot sat upon me like a nightmare; and all upon a sudden, and before I had + a guess of what was coming, I began to sob and cry like any child. + </p> + <p> + Alan clapped my shoulder, and said I was a brave lad and wanted nothing + but a sleep. + </p> + <p> + "I'll take the first watch," said he. "Ye've done well by me, David, first + and last; and I wouldn't lose you for all Appin—no, nor for + Breadalbane." + </p> + <p> + So I made up my bed on the floor; and he took the first spell, pistol in + hand and sword on knee, three hours by the captain's watch upon the wall. + Then he roused me up, and I took my turn of three hours; before the end of + which it was broad day, and a very quiet morning, with a smooth, rolling + sea that tossed the ship and made the blood run to and fro on the + round-house floor, and a heavy rain that drummed upon the roof. All my + watch there was nothing stirring; and by the banging of the helm, I knew + they had even no one at the tiller. Indeed (as I learned afterwards) there + were so many of them hurt or dead, and the rest in so ill a temper, that + Mr. Riach and the captain had to take turn and turn like Alan and me, or + the brig might have gone ashore and nobody the wiser. It was a mercy the + night had fallen so still, for the wind had gone down as soon as the rain + began. Even as it was, I judged by the wailing of a great number of gulls + that went crying and fishing round the ship, that she must have drifted + pretty near the coast or one of the islands of the Hebrides; and at last, + looking out of the door of the round-house, I saw the great stone hills of + Skye on the right hand, and, a little more astern, the strange isle of + Rum. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0116m.jpg" alt="0116m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0116.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9116m.jpg" alt="9116m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9116.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + lan and I sat down to breakfast about six of the clock. The floor was + covered with broken glass and in a horrid mess of blood, which took away + my hunger. In all other ways we were in a situation not only agreeable but + merry; having ousted the officers from their own cabin, and having at + command all the drink in the ship—both wine and spirits—and + all the dainty part of what was eatable, such as the pickles and the fine + sort of bread. This, of itself, was enough to set us in good humour, but + the richest part of it was this, that the two thirstiest men that ever + came out of Scotland (Mr. Shuan being dead) were now shut in the fore-part + of the ship and condemned to what they hated most—cold water. + </p> + <p> + "And depend upon it," Alan said, "we shall hear more of them ere long. Ye + may keep a man from the fighting, but never from his bottle." + </p> + <p> + We made good company for each other. Alan, indeed, expressed himself most + lovingly; and taking a knife from the table, cut me off one of the silver + buttons from his coat. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0117m.jpg" alt="0117m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0117.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + "I had them," says he, "from my father, Duncan Stewart; and now give ye + one of them to be a keepsake for last night's work. And wherever ye go and + show that button, the friends of Alan Breck will come around you." + </p> + <p> + He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies; and + indeed, much as I admired his courage, I was always in danger of smiling + at his vanity: in danger, I say, for had I not kept my countenance, I + would be afraid to think what a quarrel might have followed. + </p> + <p> + As soon as we were through with our meal he rummaged in the captain's + locker till he found a clothes-brush; and then taking off his coat, began + to visit his suit and brush away the stains, with such care and labour as + I supposed to have been only usual with women. To be sure, he had no + other; and, besides (as he said), it belonged to a king and so behoved to + be royally looked after. + </p> + <p> + For all that, when I saw what care he took to pluck out the threads where + the button had been cut away, I put a higher value on his gift. + </p> + <p> + He was still so engaged when we were hailed by Mr. Riach from the deck, + asking for a parley; and I, climbing through the skylight and sitting on + the edge of it, pistol in hand and with a bold front, though inwardly in + fear of broken glass, hailed him back again and bade him speak out. He + came to the edge of the round-house, and stood on a coil of rope, so that + his chin was on a level with the roof; and we looked at each other awhile + in silence. Mr. Riach, as I do not think he had been very forward in the + battle, so he had got off with nothing worse than a blow upon the cheek: + but he looked out of heart and very weary, having been all night afoot, + either standing watch or doctoring the wounded. + </p> + <p> + "This is a bad job," said he at last, shaking his head. + </p> + <p> + "It was none of our choosing," said I. + </p> + <p> + "The captain," says he, "would like to speak with your friend. They might + speak at the window." + </p> + <p> + "And how do we know what treachery he means?" cried I. + </p> + <p> + "He means none, David," returned Mr. Riach, "and if he did, I'll tell ye + the honest truth, we couldnae get the men to follow." + </p> + <p> + "Is that so?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "I'll tell ye more than that," said he. "It's not only the men; it's me. + I'm frich'ened, Davie." And he smiled across at me. "No," he continued, + "what we want is to be shut of him." + </p> + <p> + Thereupon I consulted with Alan, and the parley was agreed to and parole + given upon either side; but this was not the whole of Mr. Riach's + business, and he now begged me for a dram with such instancy and such + reminders of his former kindness, that at last I handed him a pannikin + with about a gill of brandy. He drank a part, and then carried the rest + down upon the deck, to share it (I suppose) with his superior. + </p> + <p> + A little after, the captain came (as was agreed) to one of the windows, + and stood there in the rain, with his arm in a sling, and looking stern + and pale, and so old that my heart smote me for having fired upon him. + </p> + <p> + Alan at once held a pistol in his face. + </p> + <p> + "Put that thing up!" said the captain. "Have I not passed my word, sir? or + do ye seek to affront me?" + </p> + <p> + "Captain," says Alan, "I doubt your word is a breakable. Last night ye + haggled and argle-bargled like an apple-wife; and then passed me your + word, and gave me your hand to back it; and ye ken very well what was the + upshot. Be damned to your word!" says he. + </p> + <p> + "Well, well, sir," said the captain, "ye'll get little good by swearing." + (And truly that was a fault of which the captain was quite free.) "But we + have other things to speak," he continued, bitterly. "Ye've made a sore + hash of my brig; I haven't hands enough left to work her; and my first + officer (whom I could ill spare) has got your sword throughout his vitals, + and passed without speech. There is nothing left me, sir, but to put back + into the port of Glasgow after hands; and there (by your leave) ye will + find them that are better able to talk to you." + </p> + <p> + "Ay?" said Alan; "and faith, I'll have a talk with them mysel'! Unless + there's naebody speaks English in that town, I have a bonny tale for them. + Fifteen tarry sailors upon the one side, and a man and a halfling boy upon + the other! O, man, it's peetiful!" + </p> + <p> + Hoseason flushed red. + </p> + <p> + "No," continued Alan, "that'll no do. Ye'll just have to set me ashore as + we agreed." + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said Hoseason, "but my first officer is dead—ye ken best how. + There's none of the rest of us acquaint with this coast, sir; and it's one + very dangerous to ships." + </p> + <p> + "I give ye your choice," says Alan. "Set me on dry ground in Appin, or + Ardgour, or in Morven, or Arisaig, or Morar; or, in brief, where ye + please, within thirty miles of my own country; except in a country of the + Campbells. That's a broad target. If ye miss that, ye must be as feckless + at the sailoring as I have found ye at the fighting. Why, my poor country + people in their bit cobles* pass from island to island in all weathers, + ay, and by night too, for the matter of that." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Coble: a small boat used in fishing. +</pre> + <p> + "A coble's not a ship, sir," said the captain. "It has nae draught of + water." + </p> + <p> + "Well, then, to Glasgow if ye list!" says Alan. "We'll have the laugh of + ye at the least." + </p> + <p> + "My mind runs little upon laughing," said the captain. "But all this will + cost money, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir," says Alan, "I am nae weathercock. Thirty guineas, if ye land + me on the sea-side; and sixty, if ye put me in the Linnhe Loch." + </p> + <p> + "But see, sir, where we lie, we are but a few hours' sail from + Ardnamurchan," said Hoseason. "Give me sixty, and I'll set ye there." + </p> + <p> + "And I'm to wear my brogues and run jeopardy of the red-coats to please + you?" cries Alan. "No, sir; if ye want sixty guineas earn them, and set me + in my own country." + </p> + <p> + "It's to risk the brig, sir," said the captain, "and your own lives along + with her." + </p> + <p> + "Take it or want it," says Alan. + </p> + <p> + "Could ye pilot us at all?" asked the captain, who was frowning to + himself. + </p> + <p> + "Well, it's doubtful," said Alan. "I'm more of a fighting man (as ye have + seen for yoursel') than a sailor-man. But I have been often enough picked + up and set down upon this coast, and should ken something of the lie of + it." + </p> + <p> + The captain shook his head, still frowning. + </p> + <p> + "If I had lost less money on this unchancy cruise," says he, "I would see + you in a rope's end before I risked my brig, sir. But be it as ye will. As + soon as I get a slant of wind (and there's some coming, or I'm the more + mistaken) I'll put it in hand. But there's one thing more. We may meet in + with a king's ship and she may lay us aboard, sir, with no blame of mine: + they keep the cruisers thick upon this coast, ye ken who for. Now, sir, if + that was to befall, ye might leave the money." + </p> + <p> + "Captain," says Alan, "if ye see a pennant, it shall be your part to run + away. And now, as I hear you're a little short of brandy in the fore-part, + I'll offer ye a change: a bottle of brandy against two buckets of water." + </p> + <p> + That was the last clause of the treaty, and was duly executed on both + sides; so that Alan and I could at last wash out the round-house and be + quit of the memorials of those whom we had slain, and the captain and Mr. + Riach could be happy again in their own way, the name of which was drink. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0123m.jpg" alt="0123m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0123.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + I HEAR OF THE "RED FOX" + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9123m.jpg" alt="9123m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9123.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + efore we had done cleaning out the round-house, a breeze sprang up from a + little to the east of north. This blew off the rain and brought out the + sun. + </p> + <p> + And here I must explain; and the reader would do well to look at a map. On + the day when the fog fell and we ran down Alan's boat, we had been running + through the Little Minch. At dawn after the battle, we lay becalmed to the + east of the Isle of Canna or between that and Isle Eriska in the chain of + the Long Island. Now to get from there to the Linnhe Loch, the straight + course was through the narrows of the Sound of Mull. But the captain had + no chart; he was afraid to trust his brig so deep among the islands; and + the wind serving well, he preferred to go by west of Tiree and come up + under the southern coast of the great Isle of Mull. + </p> + <p> + All day the breeze held in the same point, and rather freshened than died + down; and towards afternoon, a swell began to set in from round the outer + Hebrides. Our course, to go round about the inner isles, was to the west + of south, so that at first we had this swell upon our beam, and were much + rolled about. But after nightfall, when we had turned the end of Tiree and + began to head more to the east, the sea came right astern. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0125m.jpg" alt="0125m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0125.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Meanwhile, the early part of the day, before the swell came up, was very + pleasant; sailing, as we were, in a bright sunshine and with many + mountainous islands upon different sides. Alan and I sat in the + round-house with the doors open on each side (the wind being straight + astern), and smoked a pipe or two of the captain's fine tobacco. It was at + this time we heard each other's stories, which was the more important to + me, as I gained some knowledge of that wild Highland country on which I + was so soon to land. In those days, so close on the back of the great + rebellion, it was needful a man should know what he was doing when he went + upon the heather. + </p> + <p> + It was I that showed the example, telling him all my misfortune; which he + heard with great good-nature. Only, when I came to mention that good + friend of mine, Mr. Campbell the minister, Alan fired up and cried out + that he hated all that were of that name. + </p> + <p> + "Why," said I, "he is a man you should be proud to give your hand to." + </p> + <p> + "I know nothing I would help a Campbell to," says he, "unless it was a + leaden bullet. I would hunt all of that name like blackcocks. If I lay + dying, I would crawl upon my knees to my chamber window for a shot at + one." + </p> + <p> + "Why, Alan," I cried, "what ails ye at the Campbells?" + </p> + <p> + "Well," says he, "ye ken very well that I am an Appin Stewart, and the + Campbells have long harried and wasted those of my name; ay, and got lands + of us by treachery—but never with the sword," he cried loudly, and + with the word brought down his fist upon the table. But I paid the less + attention to this, for I knew it was usually said by those who have the + underhand. "There's more than that," he continued, "and all in the same + story: lying words, lying papers, tricks fit for a peddler, and the show + of what's legal over all, to make a man the more angry." + </p> + <p> + "You that are so wasteful of your buttons," said I, "I can hardly think + you would be a good judge of business." + </p> + <p> + "Ah!" says he, falling again to smiling, "I got my wastefulness from the + same man I got the buttons from; and that was my poor father, Duncan + Stewart, grace be to him! He was the prettiest man of his kindred; and the + best swordsman in the Hielands, David, and that is the same as to say, in + all the world, I should ken, for it was him that taught me. He was in the + Black Watch, when first it was mustered; and, like other gentlemen + privates, had a gillie at his back to carry his firelock for him on the + march. Well, the King, it appears, was wishful to see Hieland + swordsmanship; and my father and three more were chosen out and sent to + London town, to let him see it at the best. So they were had into the + palace and showed the whole art of the sword for two hours at a stretch, + before King George and Queen Carline, and the Butcher Cumberland, and many + more of whom I havenae mind. And when they were through, the King (for all + he was a rank usurper) spoke them fair and gave each man three guineas in + his hand. Now, as they were going out of the palace, they had a porter's + lodge to go by; and it came in on my father, as he was perhaps the first + private Hieland gentleman that had ever gone by that door, it was right he + should give the poor porter a proper notion of their quality. So he gives + the King's three guineas into the man's hand, as if it was his common + custom; the three others that came behind him did the same; and there they + were on the street, never a penny the better for their pains. Some say it + was one, that was the first to fee the King's porter; and some say it was + another; but the truth of it is, that it was Duncan Stewart, as I am + willing to prove with either sword or pistol. And that was the father that + I had, God rest him!" + </p> + <p> + "I think he was not the man to leave you rich," said I. + </p> + <p> + "And that's true," said Alan. "He left me my breeks to cover me, and + little besides. And that was how I came to enlist, which was a black spot + upon my character at the best of times, and would still be a sore job for + me if I fell among the red-coats." + </p> + <p> + "What," cried I, "were you in the English army?" + </p> + <p> + "That was I," said Alan. "But I deserted to the right side at Preston Pans—and + that's some comfort." + </p> + <p> + I could scarcely share this view: holding desertion under arms for an + unpardonable fault in honour. But for all I was so young, I was wiser than + say my thought. "Dear, dear," says I, "the punishment is death." + </p> + <p> + "Ay" said he, "if they got hands on me, it would be a short shrift and a + lang tow for Alan! But I have the King of France's commission in my + pocket, which would aye be some protection." + </p> + <p> + "I misdoubt it much," said I. + </p> + <p> + "I have doubts mysel'," said Alan drily. + </p> + <p> + "And, good heaven, man," cried I, "you that are a condemned rebel, and a + deserter, and a man of the French King's—what tempts ye back into + this country? It's a braving of Providence." + </p> + <p> + "Tut!" says Alan, "I have been back every year since forty-six!" + </p> + <p> + "And what brings ye, man?" cried I. + </p> + <p> + "Well, ye see, I weary for my friends and country," said he. "France is a + braw place, nae doubt; but I weary for the heather and the deer. And then + I have bit things that I attend to. Whiles I pick up a few lads to serve + the King of France: recruits, ye see; and that's aye a little money. But + the heart of the matter is the business of my chief, Ardshiel." + </p> + <p> + "I thought they called your chief Appin," said I. + </p> + <p> + "Ay, but Ardshiel is the captain of the clan," said he, which scarcely + cleared my mind. "Ye see, David, he that was all his life so great a man, + and come of the blood and bearing the name of kings, is now brought down + to live in a French town like a poor and private person. He that had four + hundred swords at his whistle, I have seen, with these eyes of mine, + buying butter in the market-place, and taking it home in a kale-leaf. This + is not only a pain but a disgrace to us of his family and clan. There are + the bairns forby, the children and the hope of Appin, that must be learned + their letters and how to hold a sword, in that far country. Now, the + tenants of Appin have to pay a rent to King George; but their hearts are + staunch, they are true to their chief; and what with love and a bit of + pressure, and maybe a threat or two, the poor folk scrape up a second rent + for Ardshiel. Well, David, I'm the hand that carries it." And he struck + the belt about his body, so that the guineas rang. + </p> + <p> + "Do they pay both?" cried I. + </p> + <p> + "Ay, David, both," says he. + </p> + <p> + "What! two rents?" I repeated. + </p> + <p> + "Ay, David," said he. "I told a different tale to yon captain man; but + this is the truth of it. And it's wonderful to me how little pressure is + needed. But that's the handiwork of my good kinsman and my father's + friend, James of the Glens: James Stewart, that is: Ardshiel's + half-brother. He it is that gets the money in, and does the management." + </p> + <p> + This was the first time I heard the name of that James Stewart, who was + afterwards so famous at the time of his hanging. But I took little heed at + the moment, for all my mind was occupied with the generosity of these poor + Highlanders. + </p> + <p> + "I call it noble," I cried. "I'm a Whig, or little better; but I call it + noble." + </p> + <p> + "Ay" said he, "ye're a Whig, but ye're a gentleman; and that's what does + it. Now, if ye were one of the cursed race of Campbell, ye would gnash + your teeth to hear tell of it. If ye were the Red Fox..." And at that + name, his teeth shut together, and he ceased speaking. I have seen many a + grim face, but never a grimmer than Alan's when he had named the Red Fox. + </p> + <p> + "And who is the Red Fox?" I asked, daunted, but still curious. + </p> + <p> + "Who is he?" cried Alan. "Well, and I'll tell you that. When the men of + the clans were broken at Culloden, and the good cause went down, and the + horses rode over the fetlocks in the best blood of the north, Ardshiel had + to flee like a poor deer upon the mountains—he and his lady and his + bairns. A sair job we had of it before we got him shipped; and while he + still lay in the heather, the English rogues, that couldnae come at his + life, were striking at his rights. They stripped him of his powers; they + stripped him of his lands; they plucked the weapons from the hands of his + clansmen, that had borne arms for thirty centuries; ay, and the very + clothes off their backs—so that it's now a sin to wear a tartan + plaid, and a man may be cast into a gaol if he has but a kilt about his + legs. One thing they couldnae kill. That was the love the clansmen bore + their chief. These guineas are the proof of it. And now, in there steps a + man, a Campbell, red-headed Colin of Glenure——" + </p> + <p> + "Is that him you call the Red Fox?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "Will ye bring me his brush?" cries Alan, fiercely. "Ay, that's the man. + In he steps, and gets papers from King George, to be so-called King's + factor on the lands of Appin. And at first he sings small, and is + hail-fellow-well-met with Sheamus—that's James of the Glens, my + chieftain's agent. But by-and-by, that came to his ears that I have just + told you; how the poor commons of Appin, the farmers and the crofters and + the boumen, were wringing their very plaids to get a second rent, and send + it over-seas for Ardshiel and his poor bairns. What was it ye called it, + when I told ye?" + </p> + <p> + "I called it noble, Alan," said I. + </p> + <p> + "And you little better than a common Whig!" cries Alan. "But when it came + to Colin Roy, the black Campbell blood in him ran wild. He sat gnashing + his teeth at the wine table. What! should a Stewart get a bite of bread, + and him not be able to prevent it? Ah! Red Fox, if ever I hold you at a + gun's end, the Lord have pity upon ye!" (Alan stopped to swallow down his + anger.) "Well, David, what does he do? He declares all the farms to let. + And, thinks he, in his black heart, 'I'll soon get other tenants that'll + overbid these Stewarts, and Maccolls, and Macrobs' (for these are all + names in my clan, David); 'and then,' thinks he, 'Ardshiel will have to + hold his bonnet on a French roadside.'" + </p> + <p> + "Well," said I, "what followed?" + </p> + <p> + Alan laid down his pipe, which he had long since suffered to go out, and + set his two hands upon his knees. + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said he, "ye'll never guess that! For these same Stewarts, and + Maccolls, and Macrobs (that had two rents to pay, one to King George by + stark force, and one to Ardshiel by natural kindness) offered him a better + price than any Campbell in all broad Scotland; and far he sent seeking + them—as far as to the sides of Clyde and the cross of Edinburgh—seeking, + and fleeching, and begging them to come, where there was a Stewart to be + starved and a red-headed hound of a Campbell to be pleasured!" + </p> + <p> + "Well, Alan," said I, "that is a strange story, and a fine one, too. And + Whig as I may be, I am glad the man was beaten." + </p> + <p> + "Him beaten?" echoed Alan. "It's little ye ken of Campbells, and less of + the Red Fox. Him beaten? No: nor will be, till his blood's on the + hillside! But if the day comes, David man, that I can find time and + leisure for a bit of hunting, there grows not enough heather in all + Scotland to hide him from my vengeance!" + </p> + <p> + "Man Alan," said I, "ye are neither very wise nor very Christian to blow + off so many words of anger. They will do the man ye call the Fox no harm, + and yourself no good. Tell me your tale plainly out. What did he next?" + </p> + <p> + "And that's a good observe, David," said Alan. "Troth and indeed, they + will do him no harm; the more's the pity! And barring that about + Christianity (of which my opinion is quite otherwise, or I would be nae + Christian), I am much of your mind." + </p> + <p> + "Opinion here or opinion there," said I, "it's a kent thing that + Christianity forbids revenge." + </p> + <p> + "Ay" said he, "it's well seen it was a Campbell taught ye! It would be a + convenient world for them and their sort, if there was no such a thing as + a lad and a gun behind a heather bush! But that's nothing to the point. + This is what he did." + </p> + <p> + "Ay" said I, "come to that." + </p> + <p> + "Well, David," said he, "since he couldnae be rid of the loyal commons by + fair means, he swore he would be rid of them by foul. Ardshiel was to + starve: that was the thing he aimed at. And since them that fed him in his + exile wouldnae be bought out—right or wrong, he would drive them + out. Therefore he sent for lawyers, and papers, and red-coats to stand at + his back. And the kindly folk of that country must all pack and tramp, + every father's son out of his father's house, and out of the place where + he was bred and fed, and played when he was a callant. And who are to + succeed them? Bare-leggit beggars! King George is to whistle for his + rents; he maun dow with less; he can spread his butter thinner: what cares + Red Colin? If he can hurt Ardshiel, he has his wish; if he can pluck the + meat from my chieftain's table, and the bit toys out of his children's + hands, he will gang hame singing to Glenure!" + </p> + <p> + "Let me have a word," said I. "Be sure, if they take less rents, be sure + Government has a finger in the pie. It's not this Campbell's fault, man—it's + his orders. And if ye killed this Colin to-morrow, what better would ye + be? There would be another factor in his shoes, as fast as spur can + drive." + </p> + <p> + "Ye're a good lad in a fight," said Alan; "but, man! ye have Whig blood in + ye!" + </p> + <p> + He spoke kindly enough, but there was so much anger under his contempt + that I thought it was wise to change the conversation. I expressed my + wonder how, with the Highlands covered with troops, and guarded like a + city in a siege, a man in his situation could come and go without arrest. + </p> + <p> + "It's easier than ye would think," said Alan. "A bare hillside (ye see) is + like all one road; if there's a sentry at one place, ye just go by + another. And then the heather's a great help. And everywhere there are + friends' houses and friends' byres and haystacks. And besides, when folk + talk of a country covered with troops, it's but a kind of a byword at the + best. A soldier covers nae mair of it than his boot-soles. I have fished a + water with a sentry on the other side of the brae, and killed a fine + trout; and I have sat in a heather bush within six feet of another, and + learned a real bonny tune from his whistling. This was it," said he, and + whistled me the air. + </p> + <p> + "And then, besides," he continued, "it's no sae bad now as it was in + forty-six. The Hielands are what they call pacified. Small wonder, with + never a gun or a sword left from Cantyre to Cape Wrath, but what tenty* + folk have hidden in their thatch! But what I would like to ken, David, is + just how long? Not long, ye would think, with men like Ardshiel in exile + and men like the Red Fox sitting birling the wine and oppressing the poor + at home. But it's a kittle thing to decide what folk'll bear, and what + they will not. Or why would Red Colin be riding his horse all over my poor + country of Appin, and never a pretty lad to put a bullet in him?" + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Careful. +</pre> + <p> + And with this Alan fell into a muse, and for a long time sate very sad and + silent. + </p> + <p> + I will add the rest of what I have to say about my friend, that he was + skilled in all kinds of music, but principally pipe-music; was a + well-considered poet in his own tongue; had read several books both in + French and English; was a dead shot, a good angler, and an excellent + fencer with the small sword as well as with his own particular weapon. For + his faults, they were on his face, and I now knew them all. But the worst + of them, his childish propensity to take offence and to pick quarrels, he + greatly laid aside in my case, out of regard for the battle of the + round-house. But whether it was because I had done well myself, or because + I had been a witness of his own much greater prowess, is more than I can + tell. For though he had a great taste for courage in other men, yet he + admired it most in Alan Breck. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0135m.jpg" alt="0135m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0135.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE LOSS OF THE BRIG + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9135m.jpg" alt="9135m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9135.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + t was already late at night, and as dark as it ever would be at that + season of the year (and that is to say, it was still pretty bright), when + Hoseason clapped his head into the round-house door. + </p> + <p> + "Here," said he, "come out and see if ye can pilot." + </p> + <p> + "Is this one of your tricks?" asked Alan. + </p> + <p> + "Do I look like tricks?" cries the captain. "I have other things to think + of—my brig's in danger!" + </p> + <p> + By the concerned look of his face, and, above all, by the sharp tones in + which he spoke of his brig, it was plain to both of us he was in deadly + earnest; and so Alan and I, with no great fear of treachery, stepped on + deck. + </p> + <p> + The sky was clear; it blew hard, and was bitter cold; a great deal of + daylight lingered; and the moon, which was nearly full, shone brightly. + The brig was close hauled, so as to round the southwest corner of the + Island of Mull, the hills of which (and Ben More above them all, with a + wisp of mist upon the top of it) lay full upon the lar-board bow. Though + it was no good point of sailing for the Covenant, she tore through the + seas at a great rate, pitching and straining, and pursued by the westerly + swell. + </p> + <p> + Altogether it was no such ill night to keep the seas in; and I had begun + to wonder what it was that sat so heavily upon the captain, when the brig + rising suddenly on the top of a high swell, he pointed and cried to us to + look. Away on the lee bow, a thing like a fountain rose out of the moonlit + sea, and immediately after we heard a low sound of roaring. + </p> + <p> + "What do ye call that?" asked the captain, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + "The sea breaking on a reef," said Alan. "And now ye ken where it is; and + what better would ye have?" + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said Hoseason, "if it was the only one." + </p> + <p> + And sure enough, just as he spoke there came a second fountain farther to + the south. + </p> + <p> + "There!" said Hoseason. "Ye see for yourself. If I had kent of these + reefs, if I had had a chart, or if Shuan had been spared, it's not sixty + guineas, no, nor six hundred, would have made me risk my brig in sic a + stoneyard! But you, sir, that was to pilot us, have ye never a word?" + </p> + <p> + "I'm thinking," said Alan, "these'll be what they call the Torran Rocks." + </p> + <p> + "Are there many of them?" says the captain. + </p> + <p> + "Truly, sir, I am nae pilot," said Alan; "but it sticks in my mind there + are ten miles of them." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Riach and the captain looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + "There's a way through them, I suppose?" said the captain. + </p> + <p> + "Doubtless," said Alan, "but where? But it somehow runs in my mind once + more that it is clearer under the land." + </p> + <p> + "So?" said Hoseason. "We'll have to haul our wind then, Mr. Riach; we'll + have to come as near in about the end of Mull as we can take her, sir; and + even then we'll have the land to kep the wind off us, and that stoneyard + on our lee. Well, we're in for it now, and may as well crack on." + </p> + <p> + With that he gave an order to the steersman, and sent Riach to the + foretop. There were only five men on deck, counting the officers; these + being all that were fit (or, at least, both fit and willing) for their + work. So, as I say, it fell to Mr. Riach to go aloft, and he sat there + looking out and hailing the deck with news of all he saw. + </p> + <p> + "The sea to the south is thick," he cried; and then, after a while, "it + does seem clearer in by the land." + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir," said Hoseason to Alan, "we'll try your way of it. But I think + I might as well trust to a blind fiddler. Pray God you're right." + </p> + <p> + "Pray God I am!" says Alan to me. "But where did I hear it? Well, well, it + will be as it must." + </p> + <p> + As we got nearer to the turn of the land the reefs began to be sown here + and there on our very path; and Mr. Riach sometimes cried down to us to + change the course. Sometimes, indeed, none too soon; for one reef was so + close on the brig's weather board that when a sea burst upon it the + lighter sprays fell upon her deck and wetted us like rain. + </p> + <p> + The brightness of the night showed us these perils as clearly as by day, + which was, perhaps, the more alarming. It showed me, too, the face of the + captain as he stood by the steersman, now on one foot, now on the other, + and sometimes blowing in his hands, but still listening and looking and as + steady as steel. Neither he nor Mr. Riach had shown well in the fighting; + but I saw they were brave in their own trade, and admired them all the + more because I found Alan very white. + </p> + <p> + "Ochone, David," says he, "this is no the kind of death I fancy!" + </p> + <p> + "What, Alan!" I cried, "you're not afraid?" + </p> + <p> + "No," said he, wetting his lips, "but you'll allow, yourself, it's a cold + ending." + </p> + <p> + By this time, now and then sheering to one side or the other to avoid a + reef, but still hugging the wind and the land, we had got round Iona and + begun to come alongside Mull. The tide at the tail of the land ran very + strong, and threw the brig about. Two hands were put to the helm, and + Hoseason himself would sometimes lend a help; and it was strange to see + three strong men throw their weight upon the tiller, and it (like a living + thing) struggle against and drive them back. This would have been the + greater danger had not the sea been for some while free of obstacles. Mr. + Riach, besides, announced from the top that he saw clear water ahead. + </p> + <p> + "Ye were right," said Hoseason to Alan. "Ye have saved the brig, sir. I'll + mind that when we come to clear accounts." And I believe he not only meant + what he said, but would have done it; so high a place did the Covenant + hold in his affections. + </p> + <p> + But this is matter only for conjecture, things having gone otherwise than + he forecast. + </p> + <p> + "Keep her away a point," sings out Mr. Riach. "Reef to windward!" + </p> + <p> + And just at the same time the tide caught the brig, and threw the wind out + of her sails. She came round into the wind like a top, and the next moment + struck the reef with such a dunch as threw us all flat upon the deck, and + came near to shake Mr. Riach from his place upon the mast. + </p> + <p> + I was on my feet in a minute. The reef on which we had struck was close in + under the southwest end of Mull, off a little isle they call Earraid, + which lay low and black upon the larboard. Sometimes the swell broke clean + over us; sometimes it only ground the poor brig upon the reef, so that we + could hear her beat herself to pieces; and what with the great noise of + the sails, and the singing of the wind, and the flying of the spray in the + moonlight, and the sense of danger, I think my head must have been partly + turned, for I could scarcely understand the things I saw. + </p> + <p> + Presently I observed Mr. Riach and the seamen busy round the skiff, and, + still in the same blank, ran over to assist them; and as soon as I set my + hand to work, my mind came clear again. It was no very easy task, for the + skiff lay amidships and was full of hamper, and the breaking of the + heavier seas continually forced us to give over and hold on; but we all + wrought like horses while we could. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile such of the wounded as could move came clambering out of the + fore-scuttle and began to help; while the rest that lay helpless in their + bunks harrowed me with screaming and begging to be saved. + </p> + <p> + The captain took no part. It seemed he was struck stupid. He stood holding + by the shrouds, talking to himself and groaning out aloud whenever the + ship hammered on the rock. His brig was like wife and child to him; he had + looked on, day by day, at the mishandling of poor Ransome; but when it + came to the brig, he seemed to suffer along with her. + </p> + <p> + All the time of our working at the boat, I remember only one other thing: + that I asked Alan, looking across at the shore, what country it was; and + he answered, it was the worst possible for him, for it was a land of the + Campbells. + </p> + <p> + We had one of the wounded men told off to keep a watch upon the seas and + cry us warning. Well, we had the boat about ready to be launched, when + this man sang out pretty shrill: "For God's sake, hold on!" We knew by his + tone that it was something more than ordinary; and sure enough, there + followed a sea so huge that it lifted the brig right up and canted her + over on her beam. Whether the cry came too late, or my hold was too weak, + I know not; but at the sudden tilting of the ship I was cast clean over + the bulwarks into the sea. + </p> + <p> + I went down, and drank my fill, and then came up, and got a blink of the + moon, and then down again. They say a man sinks a third time for good. I + cannot be made like other folk, then; for I would not like to write how + often I went down, or how often I came up again. All the while, I was + being hurled along, and beaten upon and choked, and then swallowed whole; + and the thing was so distracting to my wits, that I was neither sorry nor + afraid. + </p> + <p> + Presently, I found I was holding to a spar, which helped me somewhat. And + then all of a sudden I was in quiet water, and began to come to myself. + </p> + <p> + It was the spare yard I had got hold of, and I was amazed to see how far I + had travelled from the brig. I hailed her, indeed; but it was plain she + was already out of cry. She was still holding together; but whether or not + they had yet launched the boat, I was too far off and too low down to see. + </p> + <p> + While I was hailing the brig, I spied a tract of water lying between us + where no great waves came, but which yet boiled white all over and + bristled in the moon with rings and bubbles. Sometimes the whole tract + swung to one side, like the tail of a live serpent; sometimes, for a + glimpse, it would all disappear and then boil up again. What it was I had + no guess, which for the time increased my fear of it; but I now know it + must have been the roost or tide race, which had carried me away so fast + and tumbled me about so cruelly, and at last, as if tired of that play, + had flung out me and the spare yard upon its landward margin. + </p> + <p> + I now lay quite becalmed, and began to feel that a man can die of cold as + well as of drowning. The shores of Earraid were close in; I could see in + the moonlight the dots of heather and the sparkling of the mica in the + rocks. + </p> + <p> + "Well," thought I to myself, "if I cannot get as far as that, it's + strange!" + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0141m.jpg" alt="0141m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0141.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0143m.jpg" alt="0143m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0143.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + I had no skill of swimming, Essen Water being small in our neighbourhood; + but when I laid hold upon the yard with both arms, and kicked out with + both feet, I soon begun to find that I was moving. Hard work it was, and + mortally slow; but in about an hour of kicking and splashing, I had got + well in between the points of a sandy bay surrounded by low hills. + </p> + <p> + The sea was here quite quiet; there was no sound of any surf; the moon + shone clear; and I thought in my heart I had never seen a place so desert + and desolate. But it was dry land; and when at last it grew so shallow + that I could leave the yard and wade ashore upon my feet, I cannot tell if + I was more tired or more grateful. Both, at least, I was: tired as I never + was before that night; and grateful to God as I trust I have been often, + though never with more cause. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0146m.jpg" alt="0146m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0146.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <h3> + THE ISLET + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9146m.jpg" alt="9146m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9146.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + ith my stepping ashore I began the most unhappy part of my adventures. It + was half-past twelve in the morning, and though the wind was broken by the + land, it was a cold night. I dared not sit down (for I thought I should + have frozen), but took off my shoes and walked to and fro upon the sand, + bare-foot, and beating my breast with infinite weariness. There was no + sound of man or cattle; not a cock crew, though it was about the hour of + their first waking; only the surf broke outside in the distance, which put + me in mind of my perils and those of my friend. To walk by the sea at that + hour of the morning, and in a place so desert-like and lonesome, struck me + with a kind of fear. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the day began to break I put on my shoes and climbed a hill—the + ruggedest scramble I ever undertook—falling, the whole way, between + big blocks of granite, or leaping from one to another. When I got to the + top the dawn was come. There was no sign of the brig, which must have + lifted from the reef and sunk. The boat, too, was nowhere to be seen. + There was never a sail upon the ocean; and in what I could see of the land + was neither house nor man. + </p> + <p> + I was afraid to think what had befallen my shipmates, and afraid to look + longer at so empty a scene. What with my wet clothes and weariness, and my + belly that now began to ache with hunger, I had enough to trouble me + without that. So I set off eastward along the south coast, hoping to find + a house where I might warm myself, and perhaps get news of those I had + lost. And at the worst, I considered the sun would soon rise and dry my + clothes. + </p> + <p> + After a little, my way was stopped by a creek or inlet of the sea, which + seemed to run pretty deep into the land; and as I had no means to get + across, I must needs change my direction to go about the end of it. It was + still the roughest kind of walking; indeed the whole, not only of Earraid, + but of the neighbouring part of Mull (which they call the Ross) is nothing + but a jumble of granite rocks with heather in among. At first the creek + kept narrowing as I had looked to see; but presently to my surprise it + began to widen out again. At this I scratched my head, but had still no + notion of the truth: until at last I came to a rising ground, and it burst + upon me all in a moment that I was cast upon a little barren isle, and cut + off on every side by the salt seas. + </p> + <p> + Instead of the sun rising to dry me, it came on to rain, with a thick + mist; so that my case was lamentable. + </p> + <p> + I stood in the rain, and shivered, and wondered what to do, till it + occurred to me that perhaps the creek was fordable. Back I went to the + narrowest point and waded in. But not three yards from shore, I plumped in + head over ears; and if ever I was heard of more, it was rather by God's + grace than my own prudence. I was no wetter (for that could hardly be), + but I was all the colder for this mishap; and having lost another hope was + the more unhappy. + </p> + <p> + And now, all at once, the yard came in my head. What had carried me + through the roost would surely serve me to cross this little quiet creek + in safety. With that I set off, undaunted, across the top of the isle, to + fetch and carry it back. It was a weary tramp in all ways, and if hope had + not buoyed me up, I must have cast myself down and given up. Whether with + the sea salt, or because I was growing fevered, I was distressed with + thirst, and had to stop, as I went, and drink the peaty water out of the + hags. + </p> + <p> + I came to the bay at last, more dead than alive; and at the first glance, + I thought the yard was something farther out than when I left it. In I + went, for the third time, into the sea. The sand was smooth and firm, and + shelved gradually down, so that I could wade out till the water was almost + to my neck and the little waves splashed into my face. But at that depth + my feet began to leave me, and I durst venture in no farther. As for the + yard, I saw it bobbing very quietly some twenty feet beyond. + </p> + <p> + I had borne up well until this last disappointment; but at that I came + ashore, and flung myself down upon the sands and wept. + </p> + <p> + The time I spent upon the island is still so horrible a thought to me, + that I must pass it lightly over. In all the books I have read of people + cast away, they had either their pockets full of tools, or a chest of + things would be thrown upon the beach along with them, as if on purpose. + My case was very different. I had nothing in my pockets but money and + Alan's silver button; and being inland bred, I was as much short of + knowledge as of means. + </p> + <p> + I knew indeed that shell-fish were counted good to eat; and among the + rocks of the isle I found a great plenty of limpets, which at first I + could scarcely strike from their places, not knowing quickness to be + needful. There were, besides, some of the little shells that we call + buckies; I think periwinkle is the English name. Of these two I made my + whole diet, devouring them cold and raw as I found them; and so hungry was + I, that at first they seemed to me delicious. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps they were out of season, or perhaps there was something wrong in + the sea about my island. But at least I had no sooner eaten my first meal + than I was seized with giddiness and retching, and lay for a long time no + better than dead. A second trial of the same food (indeed I had no other) + did better with me, and revived my strength. But as long as I was on the + island, I never knew what to expect when I had eaten; sometimes all was + well, and sometimes I was thrown into a miserable sickness; nor could I + ever distinguish what particular fish it was that hurt me. + </p> + <p> + All day it streamed rain; the island ran like a sop, there was no dry spot + to be found; and when I lay down that night, between two boulders that + made a kind of roof, my feet were in a bog. + </p> + <p> + The second day I crossed the island to all sides. There was no one part of + it better than another; it was all desolate and rocky; nothing living on + it but game birds which I lacked the means to kill, and the gulls which + haunted the outlying rocks in a prodigious number. But the creek, or + strait, that cut off the isle from the main-land of the Ross, opened out + on the north into a bay, and the bay again opened into the Sound of Iona; + and it was the neighbourhood of this place that I chose to be my home; + though if I had thought upon the very name of home in such a spot, I must + have burst out weeping. + </p> + <p> + I had good reasons for my choice. There was in this part of the isle a + little hut of a house like a pig's hut, where fishers used to sleep when + they came there upon their business; but the turf roof of it had fallen + entirely in; so that the hut was of no use to me, and gave me less shelter + than my rocks. What was more important, the shell-fish on which I lived + grew there in great plenty; when the tide was out I could gather a peck at + a time: and this was doubtless a convenience. But the other reason went + deeper. I had become in no way used to the horrid solitude of the isle, + but still looked round me on all sides (like a man that was hunted), + between fear and hope that I might see some human creature coming. Now, + from a little up the hillside over the bay, I could catch a sight of the + great, ancient church and the roofs of the people's houses in Iona. And on + the other hand, over the low country of the Ross, I saw smoke go up, + morning and evening, as if from a homestead in a hollow of the land. + </p> + <p> + I used to watch this smoke, when I was wet and cold, and had my head half + turned with loneliness; and think of the fireside and the company, till my + heart burned. It was the same with the roofs of Iona. Altogether, this + sight I had of men's homes and comfortable lives, although it put a point + on my own sufferings, yet it kept hope alive, and helped me to eat my raw + shell-fish (which had soon grown to be a disgust), and saved me from the + sense of horror I had whenever I was quite alone with dead rocks, and + fowls, and the rain, and the cold sea. + </p> + <p> + I say it kept hope alive; and indeed it seemed impossible that I should be + left to die on the shores of my own country, and within view of a + church-tower and the smoke of men's houses. But the second day passed; and + though as long as the light lasted I kept a bright look-out for boats on + the Sound or men passing on the Ross, no help came near me. It still + rained, and I turned in to sleep, as wet as ever, and with a cruel sore + throat, but a little comforted, perhaps, by having said good-night to my + next neighbours, the people of Iona. + </p> + <p> + Charles the Second declared a man could stay outdoors more days in the + year in the climate of England than in any other. This was very like a + king, with a palace at his back and changes of dry clothes. But he must + have had better luck on his flight from Worcester than I had on that + miserable isle. It was the height of the summer; yet it rained for more + than twenty-four hours, and did not clear until the afternoon of the third + day. + </p> + <p> + This was the day of incidents. In the morning I saw a red deer, a buck + with a fine spread of antlers, standing in the rain on the top of the + island; but he had scarce seen me rise from under my rock, before he + trotted off upon the other side. I supposed he must have swum the strait; + though what should bring any creature to Earraid, was more than I could + fancy. + </p> + <p> + A little after, as I was jumping about after my limpets, I was startled by + a guinea-piece, which fell upon a rock in front of me and glanced off into + the sea. When the sailors gave me my money again, they kept back not only + about a third of the whole sum, but my father's leather purse; so that + from that day out, I carried my gold loose in a pocket with a button. I + now saw there must be a hole, and clapped my hand to the place in a great + hurry. But this was to lock the stable door after the steed was stolen. I + had left the shore at Queensferry with near on fifty pounds; now I found + no more than two guinea-pieces and a silver shilling. + </p> + <p> + It is true I picked up a third guinea a little after, where it lay shining + on a piece of turf. That made a fortune of three pounds and four + shillings, English money, for a lad, the rightful heir of an estate, and + now starving on an isle at the extreme end of the wild Highlands. + </p> + <p> + This state of my affairs dashed me still further; and, indeed my plight on + that third morning was truly pitiful. My clothes were beginning to rot; my + stockings in particular were quite worn through, so that my shanks went + naked; my hands had grown quite soft with the continual soaking; my throat + was very sore, my strength had much abated, and my heart so turned against + the horrid stuff I was condemned to eat, that the very sight of it came + near to sicken me. + </p> + <p> + And yet the worst was not yet come. + </p> + <p> + There is a pretty high rock on the northwest of Earraid, which (because it + had a flat top and overlooked the Sound) I was much in the habit of + frequenting; not that ever I stayed in one place, save when asleep, my + misery giving me no rest. Indeed, I wore myself down with continual and + aimless goings and comings in the rain. + </p> + <p> + As soon, however, as the sun came out, I lay down on the top of that rock + to dry myself. The comfort of the sunshine is a thing I cannot tell. It + set me thinking hopefully of my deliverance, of which I had begun to + despair; and I scanned the sea and the Ross with a fresh interest. On the + south of my rock, a part of the island jutted out and hid the open ocean, + so that a boat could thus come quite near me upon that side, and I be none + the wiser. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0153m.jpg" alt="0153m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0153.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Well, all of a sudden, a coble with a brown sail and a pair of fishers + aboard of it, came flying round that corner of the isle, bound for Iona. I + shouted out, and then fell on my knees on the rock and reached up my hands + and prayed to them. They were near enough to hear—I could even see + the colour of their hair; and there was no doubt but they observed me, for + they cried out in the Gaelic tongue, and laughed. But the boat never + turned aside, and flew on, right before my eyes, for Iona. + </p> + <p> + I could not believe such wickedness, and ran along the shore from rock to + rock, crying on them piteously even after they were out of reach of my + voice, I still cried and waved to them; and when they were quite gone, I + thought my heart would have burst. All the time of my troubles I wept only + twice. Once, when I could not reach the yard, and now, the second time, + when these fishers turned a deaf ear to my cries. But this time I wept and + roared like a wicked child, tearing up the turf with my nails, and + grinding my face in the earth. If a wish would kill men, those two fishers + would never have seen morning, and I should likely have died upon my + island. + </p> + <p> + When I was a little over my anger, I must eat again, but with such + loathing of the mess as I could now scarce control. Sure enough, I should + have done as well to fast, for my fishes poisoned me again. I had all my + first pains; my throat was so sore I could scarce swallow; I had a fit of + strong shuddering, which clucked my teeth together; and there came on me + that dreadful sense of illness, which we have no name for either in Scotch + or English. I thought I should have died, and made my peace with God, + forgiving all men, even my uncle and the fishers; and as soon as I had + thus made up my mind to the worst, clearness came upon me; I observed the + night was falling dry; my clothes were dried a good deal; truly, I was in + a better case than ever before, since I had landed on the isle; and so I + got to sleep at last, with a thought of gratitude. + </p> + <p> + The next day (which was the fourth of this horrible life of mine) I found + my bodily strength run very low. But the sun shone, the air was sweet, and + what I managed to eat of the shell-fish agreed well with me and revived my + courage. + </p> + <p> + I was scarce back on my rock (where I went always the first thing after I + had eaten) before I observed a boat coming down the Sound, and with her + head, as I thought, in my direction. + </p> + <p> + I began at once to hope and fear exceedingly; for I thought these men + might have thought better of their cruelty and be coming back to my + assistance. But another disappointment, such as yesterday's, was more than + I could bear. I turned my back, accordingly, upon the sea, and did not + look again till I had counted many hundreds. The boat was still heading + for the island. The next time I counted the full thousand, as slowly as I + could, my heart beating so as to hurt me. And then it was out of all + question. She was coming straight to Earraid! + </p> + <p> + I could no longer hold myself back, but ran to the seaside and out, from + one rock to another, as far as I could go. It is a marvel I was not + drowned; for when I was brought to a stand at last, my legs shook under + me, and my mouth was so dry, I must wet it with the sea-water before I was + able to shout. + </p> + <p> + All this time the boat was coming on; and now I was able to perceive it + was the same boat and the same two men as yesterday. This I knew by their + hair, which the one had of a bright yellow and the other black. But now + there was a third man along with them, who looked to be of a better class. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they were come within easy speech, they let down their sail and + lay quiet. In spite of my supplications, they drew no nearer in, and what + frightened me most of all, the new man tee-hee'd with laughter as he + talked and looked at me. + </p> + <p> + Then he stood up in the boat and addressed me a long while, speaking fast + and with many wavings of his hand. I told him I had no Gaelic; and at this + he became very angry, and I began to suspect he thought he was talking + English. Listening very close, I caught the word "whateffer" several + times; but all the rest was Gaelic and might have been Greek and Hebrew + for me. + </p> + <p> + "Whatever," said I, to show him I had caught a word. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, yes—yes, yes," says he, and then he looked at the other men, + as much as to say, "I told you I spoke English," and began again as hard + as ever in the Gaelic. + </p> + <p> + This time I picked out another word, "tide." Then I had a flash of hope. I + remembered he was always waving his hand towards the mainland of the Ross. + </p> + <p> + "Do you mean when the tide is out—?" I cried, and could not finish. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, yes," said he. "Tide." + </p> + <p> + At that I turned tail upon their boat (where my adviser had once more + begun to tee-hee with laughter), leaped back the way I had come, from one + stone to another, and set off running across the isle as I had never run + before. In about half an hour I came out upon the shores of the creek; + and, sure enough, it was shrunk into a little trickle of water, through + which I dashed, not above my knees, and landed with a shout on the main + island. + </p> + <p> + A sea-bred boy would not have stayed a day on Earraid; which is only what + they call a tidal islet, and except in the bottom of the neaps, can be + entered and left twice in every twenty-four hours, either dry-shod, or at + the most by wading. Even I, who had the tide going out and in before me in + the bay, and even watched for the ebbs, the better to get my shellfish—even + I (I say) if I had sat down to think, instead of raging at my fate, must + have soon guessed the secret, and got free. It was no wonder the fishers + had not understood me. The wonder was rather that they had ever guessed my + pitiful illusion, and taken the trouble to come back. I had starved with + cold and hunger on that island for close upon one hundred hours. But for + the fishers, I might have left my bones there, in pure folly. And even as + it was, I had paid for it pretty dear, not only in past sufferings, but in + my present case; being clothed like a beggar-man, scarce able to walk, and + in great pain of my sore throat. + </p> + <p> + I have seen wicked men and fools, a great many of both; and I believe they + both get paid in the end; but the fools first. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0158m.jpg" alt="0158m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0158.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9158m.jpg" alt="9158m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9158.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + he Ross of Mull, which I had now got upon, was rugged and trackless, like + the isle I had just left; being all bog, and brier, and big stone. There + may be roads for them that know that country well; but for my part I had + no better guide than my own nose, and no other landmark than Ben More. + </p> + <p> + I aimed as well as I could for the smoke I had seen so often from the + island; and with all my great weariness and the difficulty of the way came + upon the house in the bottom of a little hollow about five or six at + night. It was low and longish, roofed with turf and built of unmortared + stones; and on a mound in front of it, an old gentleman sat smoking his + pipe in the sun. + </p> + <p> + With what little English he had, he gave me to understand that my + shipmates had got safe ashore, and had broken bread in that very house on + the day after. + </p> + <p> + "Was there one," I asked, "dressed like a gentleman?" + </p> + <p> + He said they all wore rough great-coats; but to be sure, the first of + them, the one that came alone, wore breeches and stockings, while the rest + had sailors' trousers. + </p> + <p> + "Ah," said I, "and he would have a feathered hat?" + </p> + <p> + He told me, no, that he was bareheaded like myself. + </p> + <p> + At first I thought Alan might have lost his hat; and then the rain came in + my mind, and I judged it more likely he had it out of harm's way under his + great-coat. This set me smiling, partly because my friend was safe, partly + to think of his vanity in dress. + </p> + <p> + And then the old gentleman clapped his hand to his brow, and cried out + that I must be the lad with the silver button. + </p> + <p> + "Why, yes!" said I, in some wonder. + </p> + <p> + "Well, then," said the old gentleman, "I have a word for you, that you are + to follow your friend to his country, by Torosay." + </p> + <p> + He then asked me how I had fared, and I told him my tale. A south-country + man would certainly have laughed; but this old gentleman (I call him so + because of his manners, for his clothes were dropping off his back) heard + me all through with nothing but gravity and pity. When I had done, he took + me by the hand, led me into his hut (it was no better) and presented me + before his wife, as if she had been the Queen and I a duke. + </p> + <p> + The good woman set oat-bread before me and a cold grouse, patting my + shoulder and smiling to me all the time, for she had no English; and the + old gentleman (not to be behind) brewed me a strong punch out of their + country spirit. All the while I was eating, and after that when I was + drinking the punch, I could scarce come to believe in my good fortune; and + the house, though it was thick with the peat-smoke and as full of holes as + a colander, seemed like a palace. + </p> + <p> + The punch threw me in a strong sweat and a deep slumber; the good people + let me lie; and it was near noon of the next day before I took the road, + my throat already easier and my spirits quite restored by good fare and + good news. The old gentleman, although I pressed him hard, would take no + money, and gave me an old bonnet for my head; though I am free to own I + was no sooner out of view of the house than I very jealously washed this + gift of his in a wayside fountain. + </p> + <p> + Thought I to myself: "If these are the wild Highlanders, I could wish my + own folk wilder." + </p> + <p> + I not only started late, but I must have wandered nearly half the time. + True, I met plenty of people, grubbing in little miserable fields that + would not keep a cat, or herding little kine about the bigness of asses. + The Highland dress being forbidden by law since the rebellion, and the + people condemned to the Lowland habit, which they much disliked, it was + strange to see the variety of their array. Some went bare, only for a + hanging cloak or great-coat, and carried their trousers on their backs + like a useless burthen: some had made an imitation of the tartan with + little parti-coloured stripes patched together like an old wife's quilt; + others, again, still wore the Highland philabeg, but by putting a few + stitches between the legs transformed it into a pair of trousers like a + Dutchman's. All those makeshifts were condemned and punished, for the law + was harshly applied, in hopes to break up the clan spirit; but in that + out-of-the-way, sea-bound isle, there were few to make remarks and fewer + to tell tales. + </p> + <p> + They seemed in great poverty; which was no doubt natural, now that rapine + was put down, and the chiefs kept no longer an open house; and the roads + (even such a wandering, country by-track as the one I followed) were + infested with beggars. And here again I marked a difference from my own + part of the country. For our Lowland beggars—even the gownsmen + themselves, who beg by patent—had a louting, flattering way with + them, and if you gave them a plaek and asked change, would very civilly + return you a boddle. But these Highland beggars stood on their dignity, + asked alms only to buy snuff (by their account) and would give no change. + </p> + <p> + To be sure, this was no concern of mine, except in so far as it + entertained me by the way. What was much more to the purpose, few had any + English, and these few (unless they were of the brotherhood of beggars) + not very anxious to place it at my service. I knew Torosay to be my + destination, and repeated the name to them and pointed; but instead of + simply pointing in reply, they would give me a screed of the Gaelic that + set me foolish; so it was small wonder if I went out of my road as often + as I stayed in it. + </p> + <p> + At last, about eight at night, and already very weary, I came to a lone + house, where I asked admittance, and was refused, until I bethought me of + the power of money in so poor a country, and held up one of my guineas in + my finger and thumb. Thereupon, the man of the house, who had hitherto + pretended to have no English, and driven me from his door by signals, + suddenly began to speak as clearly as was needful, and agreed for five + shillings to give me a night's lodging and guide me the next day to + Torosay. + </p> + <p> + I slept uneasily that night, fearing I should be robbed; but I might have + spared myself the pain; for my host was no robber, only miserably poor and + a great cheat. He was not alone in his poverty; for the next morning, we + must go five miles about to the house of what he called a rich man to have + one of my guineas changed. This was perhaps a rich man for Mull; he would + have scarce been thought so in the south; for it took all he had—the + whole house was turned upside down, and a neighbour brought under + contribution, before he could scrape together twenty shillings in silver. + The odd shilling he kept for himself, protesting he could ill afford to + have so great a sum of money lying "locked up." For all that he was very + courteous and well spoken, made us both sit down with his family to + dinner, and brewed punch in a fine china bowl, over which my rascal guide + grew so merry that he refused to start. + </p> + <p> + I was for getting angry, and appealed to the rich man (Hector Maclean was + his name), who had been a witness to our bargain and to my payment of the + five shillings. But Maclean had taken his share of the punch, and vowed + that no gentleman should leave his table after the bowl was brewed; so + there was nothing for it but to sit and hear Jacobite toasts and Gaelic + songs, till all were tipsy and staggered off to the bed or the barn for + their night's rest. + </p> + <p> + Next day (the fourth of my travels) we were up before five upon the clock; + but my rascal guide got to the bottle at once, and it was three hours + before I had him clear of the house, and then (as you shall hear) only for + a worse disappointment. + </p> + <p> + As long as we went down a heathery valley that lay before Mr. Maclean's + house, all went well; only my guide looked constantly over his shoulder, + and when I asked him the cause, only grinned at me. No sooner, however, + had we crossed the back of a hill, and got out of sight of the house + windows, than he told me Torosay lay right in front, and that a hill-top + (which he pointed out) was my best landmark. + </p> + <p> + "I care very little for that," said I, "since you are going with me." + </p> + <p> + The impudent cheat answered me in the Gaelic that he had no English. + </p> + <p> + "My fine fellow," I said, "I know very well your English comes and goes. + Tell me what will bring it back? Is it more money you wish?" + </p> + <p> + "Five shillings mair," said he, "and hersel' will bring ye there." + </p> + <p> + I reflected awhile and then offered him two, which he accepted greedily, + and insisted on having in his hands at once "for luck," as he said, but I + think it was rather for my misfortune. + </p> + <p> + The two shillings carried him not quite as many miles; at the end of which + distance, he sat down upon the wayside and took off his brogues from his + feet, like a man about to rest. + </p> + <p> + I was now red-hot. "Ha!" said I, "have you no more English?" + </p> + <p> + He said impudently, "No." + </p> + <p> + At that I boiled over, and lifted my hand to strike him; and he, drawing a + knife from his rags, squatted back and grinned at me like a wildcat. At + that, forgetting everything but my anger, I ran in upon him, put aside his + knife with my left, and struck him in the mouth with the right. I was a + strong lad and very angry, and he but a little man; and he went down + before me heavily. By good luck, his knife flew out of his hand as he + fell. + </p> + <p> + I picked up both that and his brogues, wished him a good morning, and set + off upon my way, leaving him barefoot and disarmed. I chuckled to myself + as I went, being sure I was done with that rogue, for a variety of + reasons. First, he knew he could have no more of my money; next, the + brogues were worth in that country only a few pence; and, lastly, the + knife, which was really a dagger, it was against the law for him to carry. + </p> + <p> + In about half an hour of walk, I overtook a great, ragged man, moving + pretty fast but feeling before him with a staff. He was quite blind, and + told me he was a catechist, which should have put me at my ease. But his + face went against me; it seemed dark and dangerous and secret; and + presently, as we began to go on alongside, I saw the steel butt of a + pistol sticking from under the flap of his coat-pocket. To carry such a + thing meant a fine of fifteen pounds sterling upon a first offence, and + transportation to the colonies upon a second. Nor could I quite see why a + religious teacher should go armed, or what a blind man could be doing with + a pistol. + </p> + <p> + I told him about my guide, for I was proud of what I had done, and my + vanity for once got the heels of my prudence. At the mention of the five + shillings he cried out so loud that I made up my mind I should say nothing + of the other two, and was glad he could not see my blushes. + </p> + <p> + "Was it too much?" I asked, a little faltering. + </p> + <p> + "Too much!" cries he. "Why, I will guide you to Torosay myself for a dram + of brandy. And give you the great pleasure of my company (me that is a man + of some learning) in the bargain." + </p> + <p> + I said I did not see how a blind man could be a guide; but at that he + laughed aloud, and said his stick was eyes enough for an eagle. + </p> + <p> + "In the Isle of Mull, at least," says he, "where I know every stone and + heather-bush by mark of head. See, now," he said, striking right and left, + as if to make sure, "down there a burn is running; and at the head of it + there stands a bit of a small hill with a stone cocked upon the top of + that; and it's hard at the foot of the hill, that the way runs by to + Torosay; and the way here, being for droves, is plainly trodden, and will + show grassy through the heather." + </p> + <p> + I had to own he was right in every feature, and told my wonder. + </p> + <p> + "Ha!" says he, "that's nothing. Would ye believe me now, that before the + Act came out, and when there were weepons in this country, I could shoot? + Ay, could I!" cries he, and then with a leer: "If ye had such a thing as a + pistol here to try with, I would show ye how it's done." + </p> + <p> + I told him I had nothing of the sort, and gave him a wider berth. If he + had known, his pistol stuck at that time quite plainly out of his pocket, + and I could see the sun twinkle on the steel of the butt. But by the + better luck for me, he knew nothing, thought all was covered, and lied on + in the dark. + </p> + <p> + He then began to question me cunningly, where I came from, whether I was + rich, whether I could change a five-shilling piece for him (which he + declared he had that moment in his sporran), and all the time he kept + edging up to me and I avoiding him. We were now upon a sort of green + cattle-track which crossed the hills towards Torosay, and we kept changing + sides upon that like dancers in a reel. I had so plainly the upper-hand + that my spirits rose, and indeed I took a pleasure in this game of + blindman's buff; but the catechist grew angrier and angrier, and at last + began to swear in Gaelic and to strike for my legs with his staff. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0165m.jpg" alt="0165m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0165.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Then I told him that, sure enough, I had a pistol in my pocket as well as + he, and if he did not strike across the hill due south I would even blow + his brains out. + </p> + <p> + He became at once very polite, and after trying to soften me for some + time, but quite in vain, he cursed me once more in Gaelic and took himself + off. I watched him striding along, through bog and brier, tapping with his + stick, until he turned the end of a hill and disappeared in the next + hollow. Then I struck on again for Torosay, much better pleased to be + alone than to travel with that man of learning. This was an unlucky day; + and these two, of whom I had just rid myself, one after the other, were + the two worst men I met with in the Highlands. + </p> + <p> + At Torosay, on the Sound of Mull and looking over to the mainland of + Morven, there was an inn with an innkeeper, who was a Maclean, it + appeared, of a very high family; for to keep an inn is thought even more + genteel in the Highlands than it is with us, perhaps as partaking of + hospitality, or perhaps because the trade is idle and drunken. He spoke + good English, and finding me to be something of a scholar, tried me first + in French, where he easily beat me, and then in the Latin, in which I + don't know which of us did best. This pleasant rivalry put us at once upon + friendly terms; and I sat up and drank punch with him (or to be more + correct, sat up and watched him drink it), until he was so tipsy that he + wept upon my shoulder. + </p> + <p> + I tried him, as if by accident, with a sight of Alan's button; but it was + plain he had never seen or heard of it. Indeed, he bore some grudge + against the family and friends of Ardshiel, and before he was drunk he + read me a lampoon, in very good Latin, but with a very ill meaning, which + he had made in elegiac verses upon a person of that house. + </p> + <p> + When I told him of my catechist, he shook his head, and said I was lucky + to have got clear off. "That is a very dangerous man," he said; "Duncan + Mackiegh is his name; he can shoot by the ear at several yards, and has + been often accused of highway robberies, and once of murder." + </p> + <p> + "The cream of it is," says I, "that he called himself a catechist." + </p> + <p> + "And why should he not?" says he, "when that is what he is. It was Maclean + of Duart gave it to him because he was blind. But perhaps it was a peety," + says my host, "for he is always on the road, going from one place to + another to hear the young folk say their religion; and, doubtless, that is + a great temptation to the poor man." + </p> + <p> + At last, when my landlord could drink no more, he showed me to a bed, and + I lay down in very good spirits; having travelled the greater part of that + big and crooked Island of Mull, from Earraid to Torosay, fifty miles as + the crow flies, and (with my wanderings) much nearer a hundred, in four + days and with little fatigue. Indeed I was by far in better heart and + health of body at the end of that long tramp than I had been at the + beginning. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0169m.jpg" alt="0169m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0169.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <h3> + THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9169m.jpg" alt="9169m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9169.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + here is a regular ferry from Torosay to Kinlochaline on the mainland. + Both shores of the Sound are in the country of the strong clan of the + Macleans, and the people that passed the ferry with me were almost all of + that clan. The skipper of the boat, on the other hand, was called Neil Roy + Macrob; and since Macrob was one of the names of Alan's clansmen, and Alan + himself had sent me to that ferry, I was eager to come to private speech + of Neil Roy. + </p> + <p> + In the crowded boat this was of course impossible, and the passage was a + very slow affair. There was no wind, and as the boat was wretchedly + equipped, we could pull but two oars on one side, and one on the other. + The men gave way, however, with a good will, the passengers taking spells + to help them, and the whole company giving the time in Gaelic boat-songs. + And what with the songs, and the sea-air, and the good-nature and spirit + of all concerned, and the bright weather, the passage was a pretty thing + to have seen. + </p> + <p> + But there was one melancholy part. In the mouth of Loch Aline we found a + great sea-going ship at anchor; and this I supposed at first to be one of + the King's cruisers which were kept along that coast, both summer and + winter, to prevent communication with the French. As we got a little + nearer, it became plain she was a ship of merchandise; and what still more + puzzled me, not only her decks, but the sea-beach also, were quite black + with people, and skiffs were continually plying to and fro between them. + Yet nearer, and there began to come to our ears a great sound of mourning, + the people on board and those on the shore crying and lamenting one to + another so as to pierce the heart. + </p> + <p> + Then I understood this was an emigrant ship bound for the American + colonies. + </p> + <p> + We put the ferry-boat alongside, and the exiles leaned over the bulwarks, + weeping and reaching out their hands to my fellow-passengers, among whom + they counted some near friends. How long this might have gone on I do not + know, for they seemed to have no sense of time: but at last the captain of + the ship, who seemed near beside himself (and no great wonder) in the + midst of this crying and confusion, came to the side and begged us to + depart. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Neil sheered off; and the chief singer in our boat struck into a + melancholy air, which was presently taken up both by the emigrants and + their friends upon the beach, so that it sounded from all sides like a + lament for the dying. I saw the tears run down the cheeks of the men and + women in the boat, even as they bent at the oars; and the circumstances + and the music of the song (which is one called "Lochaber no more") were + highly affecting even to myself. + </p> + <p> + At Kinlochaline I got Neil Roy upon one side on the beach, and said I made + sure he was one of Appin's men. + </p> + <p> + "And what for no?" said he. + </p> + <p> + "I am seeking somebody," said I; "and it comes in my mind that you will + have news of him. Alan Breck Stewart is his name." And very foolishly, + instead of showing him the button, I sought to pass a shilling in his + hand. + </p> + <p> + At this he drew back. "I am very much affronted," he said; "and this is + not the way that one shentleman should behave to another at all. The man + you ask for is in France; but if he was in my sporran," says he, "and your + belly full of shillings, I would not hurt a hair upon his body." + </p> + <p> + I saw I had gone the wrong way to work, and without wasting time upon + apologies, showed him the button lying in the hollow of my palm. + </p> + <p> + "Aweel, aweel," said Neil; "and I think ye might have begun with that end + of the stick, whatever! But if ye are the lad with the silver button, all + is well, and I have the word to see that ye come safe. But if ye will + pardon me to speak plainly," says he, "there is a name that you should + never take into your mouth, and that is the name of Alan Breck; and there + is a thing that ye would never do, and that is to offer your dirty money + to a Hieland shentleman." + </p> + <p> + It was not very easy to apologise; for I could scarce tell him (what was + the truth) that I had never dreamed he would set up to be a gentleman + until he told me so. Neil on his part had no wish to prolong his dealings + with me, only to fulfil his orders and be done with it; and he made haste + to give me my route. This was to lie the night in Kinlochaline in the + public inn; to cross Morven the next day to Ardgour, and lie the night in + the house of one John of the Claymore, who was warned that I might come; + the third day, to be set across one loch at Corran and another at + Balachulish, and then ask my way to the house of James of the Glens, at + Aucharn in Duror of Appin. There was a good deal of ferrying, as you hear; + the sea in all this part running deep into the mountains and winding about + their roots. It makes the country strong to hold and difficult to travel, + but full of prodigious wild and dreadful prospects. + </p> + <p> + I had some other advice from Neil: to speak with no one by the way, to + avoid Whigs, Campbells, and the "red-soldiers;" to leave the road and lie + in a bush if I saw any of the latter coming, "for it was never chancy to + meet in with them;" and in brief, to conduct myself like a robber or a + Jacobite agent, as perhaps Neil thought me. + </p> + <p> + The inn at Kinlochaline was the most beggarly vile place that ever pigs + were styed in, full of smoke, vermin, and silent Highlanders. I was not + only discontented with my lodging, but with myself for my mismanagement of + Neil, and thought I could hardly be worse off. But very wrongly, as I was + soon to see; for I had not been half an hour at the inn (standing in the + door most of the time, to ease my eyes from the peat smoke) when a + thunderstorm came close by, the springs broke in a little hill on which + the inn stood, and one end of the house became a running water. Places of + public entertainment were bad enough all over Scotland in those days; yet + it was a wonder to myself, when I had to go from the fireside to the bed + in which I slept, wading over the shoes. + </p> + <p> + Early in my next day's journey I overtook a little, stout, solemn man, + walking very slowly with his toes turned out, sometimes reading in a book + and sometimes marking the place with his finger, and dressed decently and + plainly in something of a clerical style. + </p> + <p> + This I found to be another catechist, but of a different order from the + blind man of Mull: being indeed one of those sent out by the Edinburgh + Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge, to evangelise the more savage + places of the Highlands. His name was Henderland; he spoke with the broad + south-country tongue, which I was beginning to weary for the sound of; and + besides common countryship, we soon found we had a more particular bond of + interest. For my good friend, the minister of Essendean, had translated + into the Gaelic in his by-time a number of hymns and pious books which + Henderland used in his work, and held in great esteem. Indeed, it was one + of these he was carrying and reading when we met. + </p> + <p> + We fell in company at once, our ways lying together as far as to + Kingairloch. As we went, he stopped and spoke with all the wayfarers and + workers that we met or passed; and though of course I could not tell what + they discoursed about, yet I judged Mr. Henderland must be well liked in + the countryside, for I observed many of them to bring out their mulls and + share a pinch of snuff with him. + </p> + <p> + I told him as far in my affairs as I judged wise; as far, that is, as they + were none of Alan's; and gave Balachulish as the place I was travelling + to, to meet a friend; for I thought Aucharn, or even Duror, would be too + particular, and might put him on the scent. + </p> + <p> + On his part, he told me much of his work and the people he worked among, + the hiding priests and Jacobites, the Disarming Act, the dress, and many + other curiosities of the time and place. He seemed moderate; blaming + Parliament in several points, and especially because they had framed the + Act more severely against those who wore the dress than against those who + carried weapons. + </p> + <p> + This moderation put it in my mind to question him of the Red Fox and the + Appin tenants; questions which, I thought, would seem natural enough in + the mouth of one travelling to that country. + </p> + <p> + He said it was a bad business. "It's wonderful," said he, "where the + tenants find the money, for their life is mere starvation. (Ye don't carry + such a thing as snuff, do ye, Mr. Balfour? No. Well, I'm better wanting + it.) But these tenants (as I was saying) are doubtless partly driven to + it. James Stewart in Duror (that's him they call James of the Glens) is + half-brother to Ardshiel, the captain of the clan; and he is a man much + looked up to, and drives very hard. And then there's one they call Alan + Breck—" + </p> + <p> + "Ah!" I cried, "what of him?" + </p> + <p> + "What of the wind that bloweth where it listeth?" said Henderland. "He's + here and awa; here to-day and gone to-morrow: a fair heather-cat. He might + be glowering at the two of us out of yon whin-bush, and I wouldnae wonder! + Ye'll no carry such a thing as snuff, will ye?" + </p> + <p> + I told him no, and that he had asked the same thing more than once. + </p> + <p> + "It's highly possible," said he, sighing. "But it seems strange ye + shouldnae carry it. However, as I was saying, this Alan Breck is a bold, + desperate customer, and well kent to be James's right hand. His life is + forfeit already; he would boggle at naething; and maybe, if a tenant-body + was to hang back he would get a dirk in his wame." + </p> + <p> + "You make a poor story of it all, Mr. Henderland," said I. "If it is all + fear upon both sides, I care to hear no more of it." + </p> + <p> + "Na," said Mr. Henderland, "but there's love too, and self-denial that + should put the like of you and me to shame. There's something fine about + it; no perhaps Christian, but humanly fine. Even Alan Breck, by all that I + hear, is a chield to be respected. There's many a lying sneck-draw sits + close in kirk in our own part of the country, and stands well in the + world's eye, and maybe is a far worse man, Mr. Balfour, than yon misguided + shedder of man's blood. Ay, ay, we might take a lesson by them.—Ye'll + perhaps think I've been too long in the Hielands?" he added, smiling to + me. + </p> + <p> + I told him not at all; that I had seen much to admire among the + Highlanders; and if he came to that, Mr. Campbell himself was a + Highlander. + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said he, "that's true. It's a fine blood." + </p> + <p> + "And what is the King's agent about?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "Colin Campbell?" says Henderland. "Putting his head in a bees' byke!" + </p> + <p> + "He is to turn the tenants out by force, I hear?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," says he, "but the business has gone back and forth, as folk say. + First, James of the Glens rode to Edinburgh, and got some lawyer (a + Stewart, nae doubt—they all hing together like bats in a steeple) + and had the proceedings stayed. And then Colin Campbell cam' in again, and + had the upper-hand before the Barons of Exchequer. And now they tell me + the first of the tenants are to flit to-morrow. It's to begin at Duror + under James's very windows, which doesnae seem wise by my humble way of + it." + </p> + <p> + "Do you think they'll fight?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "Well," says Henderland, "they're disarmed—or supposed to be—for + there's still a good deal of cold iron lying by in quiet places. And then + Colin Campbell has the sogers coming. But for all that, if I was his lady + wife, I wouldnae be well pleased till I got him home again. They're queer + customers, the Appin Stewarts." + </p> + <p> + I asked if they were worse than their neighbours. + </p> + <p> + "No they," said he. "And that's the worst part of it. For if Colin Roy can + get his business done in Appin, he has it all to begin again in the next + country, which they call Mamore, and which is one of the countries of the + Camerons. He's King's Factor upon both, and from both he has to drive out + the tenants; and indeed, Mr. Balfour (to be open with ye), it's my belief + that if he escapes the one lot, he'll get his death by the other." + </p> + <p> + So we continued talking and walking the great part of the day; until at + last, Mr. Henderland after expressing his delight in my company, and + satisfaction at meeting with a friend of Mr. Campbell's ("whom," says he, + "I will make bold to call that sweet singer of our covenanted Zion"), + proposed that I should make a short stage, and lie the night in his house + a little beyond Kingairloch. To say truth, I was overjoyed; for I had no + great desire for John of the Claymore, and since my double misadventure, + first with the guide and next with the gentleman skipper, I stood in some + fear of any Highland stranger. Accordingly we shook hands upon the + bargain, and came in the afternoon to a small house, standing alone by the + shore of the Linnhe Loch. The sun was already gone from the desert + mountains of Ardgour upon the hither side, but shone on those of Appin on + the farther; the loch lay as still as a lake, only the gulls were crying + round the sides of it; and the whole place seemed solemn and uncouth. + </p> + <p> + We had no sooner come to the door of Mr. Henderland's dwelling, than to my + great surprise (for I was now used to the politeness of Highlanders) he + burst rudely past me, dashed into the room, caught up a jar and a small + horn-spoon, and began ladling snuff into his nose in most excessive + quantities. Then he had a hearty fit of sneezing, and looked round upon me + with a rather silly smile. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0175m.jpg" alt="0175m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0175.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + "It's a vow I took," says he. "I took a vow upon me that I wouldnae carry + it. Doubtless it's a great privation; but when I think upon the martyrs, + not only to the Scottish Covenant but to other points of Christianity, I + think shame to mind it." + </p> + <p> + As soon as we had eaten (and porridge and whey was the best of the good + man's diet) he took a grave face and said he had a duty to perform by Mr. + Campbell, and that was to inquire into my state of mind towards God. I was + inclined to smile at him since the business of the snuff; but he had not + spoken long before he brought the tears into my eyes. There are two things + that men should never weary of, goodness and humility; we get none too + much of them in this rough world among cold, proud people; but Mr. + Henderland had their very speech upon his tongue. And though I was a good + deal puffed up with my adventures and with having come off, as the saying + is, with flying colours; yet he soon had me on my knees beside a simple, + poor old man, and both proud and glad to be there. + </p> + <p> + Before we went to bed he offered me sixpence to help me on my way, out of + a scanty store he kept in the turf wall of his house; at which excess of + goodness I knew not what to do. But at last he was so earnest with me that + I thought it the more mannerly part to let him have his way, and so left + him poorer than myself. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0179m.jpg" alt="0179m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0179.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <h3> + THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9179m.jpg" alt="9179m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9179.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + he next day Mr. Henderland found for me a man who had a boat of his own + and was to cross the Linnhe Loch that afternoon into Appin, fishing. Him + he prevailed on to take me, for he was one of his flock; and in this way I + saved a long day's travel and the price of the two public ferries I must + otherwise have passed. + </p> + <p> + It was near noon before we set out; a dark day with clouds, and the sun + shining upon little patches. The sea was here very deep and still, and had + scarce a wave upon it; so that I must put the water to my lips before I + could believe it to be truly salt. The mountains on either side were high, + rough and barren, very black and gloomy in the shadow of the clouds, but + all silver-laced with little watercourses where the sun shone upon them. + It seemed a hard country, this of Appin, for people to care as much about + as Alan did. + </p> + <p> + There was but one thing to mention. A little after we had started, the sun + shone upon a little moving clump of scarlet close in along the water-side + to the north. It was much of the same red as soldiers' coats; every now + and then, too, there came little sparks and lightnings, as though the sun + had struck upon bright steel. + </p> + <p> + I asked my boatman what it should be, and he answered he supposed it was + some of the red soldiers coming from Fort William into Appin, against the + poor tenantry of the country. Well, it was a sad sight to me; and whether + it was because of my thoughts of Alan, or from something prophetic in my + bosom, although this was but the second time I had seen King George's + troops, I had no good will to them. + </p> + <p> + At last we came so near the point of land at the entering in of Loch Leven + that I begged to be set on shore. My boatman (who was an honest fellow and + mindful of his promise to the catechist) would fain have carried me on to + Balachulish; but as this was to take me farther from my secret + destination, I insisted, and was set on shore at last under the wood of + Lettermore (or Lettervore, for I have heard it both ways) in Alan's + country of Appin. + </p> + <p> + This was a wood of birches, growing on a steep, craggy side of a mountain + that overhung the loch. It had many openings and ferny howes; and a road + or bridle track ran north and south through the midst of it, by the edge + of which, where was a spring, I sat down to eat some oat-bread of Mr. + Henderland's and think upon my situation. + </p> + <p> + Here I was not only troubled by a cloud of stinging midges, but far more + by the doubts of my mind. What I ought to do, why I was going to join + myself with an outlaw and a would-be murderer like Alan, whether I should + not be acting more like a man of sense to tramp back to the south country + direct, by my own guidance and at my own charges, and what Mr. Campbell or + even Mr. Henderland would think of me if they should ever learn my folly + and presumption: these were the doubts that now began to come in on me + stronger than ever. + </p> + <p> + As I was so sitting and thinking, a sound of men and horses came to me + through the wood; and presently after, at a turning of the road, I saw + four travellers come into view. The way was in this part so rough and + narrow that they came single and led their horses by the reins. The first + was a great, red-headed gentleman, of an imperious and flushed face, who + carried his hat in his hand and fanned himself, for he was in a breathing + heat. The second, by his decent black garb and white wig, I correctly took + to be a lawyer. The third was a servant, and wore some part of his clothes + in tartan, which showed that his master was of a Highland family, and + either an outlaw or else in singular good odour with the Government, since + the wearing of tartan was against the Act. If I had been better versed in + these things, I would have known the tartan to be of the Argyle (or + Campbell) colours. This servant had a good-sized portmanteau strapped on + his horse, and a net of lemons (to brew punch with) hanging at the + saddle-bow; as was often enough the custom with luxurious travellers in + that part of the country. + </p> + <p> + As for the fourth, who brought up the tail, I had seen his like before, + and knew him at once to be a sheriff's officer. + </p> + <p> + I had no sooner seen these people coming than I made up my mind (for no + reason that I can tell) to go through with my adventure; and when the + first came alongside of me, I rose up from the bracken and asked him the + way to Aucharn. + </p> + <p> + He stopped and looked at me, as I thought, a little oddly; and then, + turning to the lawyer, "Mungo," said he, "there's many a man would think + this more of a warning than two pyats. Here am I on my road to Duror on + the job ye ken; and here is a young lad starts up out of the bracken, and + speers if I am on the way to Aucharn." + </p> + <p> + "Glenure," said the other, "this is an ill subject for jesting." + </p> + <p> + These two had now drawn close up and were gazing at me, while the two + followers had halted about a stone-cast in the rear. + </p> + <p> + "And what seek ye in Aucharn?" said Colin Roy Campbell of Glenure, him + they called the Red Fox; for he it was that I had stopped. + </p> + <p> + "The man that lives there," said I. + </p> + <p> + "James of the Glens," says Glenure, musingly; and then to the lawyer: "Is + he gathering his people, think ye?" + </p> + <p> + "Anyway," says the lawyer, "we shall do better to bide where we are, and + let the soldiers rally us." + </p> + <p> + "If you are concerned for me," said I, "I am neither of his people nor + yours, but an honest subject of King George, owing no man and fearing no + man." + </p> + <p> + "Why, very well said," replies the Factor. "But if I may make so bold as + ask, what does this honest man so far from his country? and why does he + come seeking the brother of Ardshiel? I have power here, I must tell you. + I am King's Factor upon several of these estates, and have twelve files of + soldiers at my back." + </p> + <p> + "I have heard a waif word in the country," said I, a little nettled, "that + you were a hard man to drive." + </p> + <p> + He still kept looking at me, as if in doubt. + </p> + <p> + "Well," said he, at last, "your tongue is bold; but I am no unfriend to + plainness. If ye had asked me the way to the door of James Stewart on any + other day but this, I would have set ye right and bidden ye God speed. But + to-day—eh, Mungo?" And he turned again to look at the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + But just as he turned there came the shot of a firelock from higher up the + hill; and with the very sound of it Glenure fell upon the road. + </p> + <p> + "O, I am dead!" he cried, several times over. + </p> + <p> + The lawyer had caught him up and held him in his arms, the servant + standing over and clasping his hands. And now the wounded man looked from + one to another with scared eyes, and there was a change in his voice, that + went to the heart. + </p> + <p> + "Take care of yourselves," says he. "I am dead." + </p> + <p> + He tried to open his clothes as if to look for the wound, but his fingers + slipped on the buttons. With that he gave a great sigh, his head rolled on + his shoulder, and he passed away. + </p> + <p> + The lawyer said never a word, but his face was as sharp as a pen and as + white as the dead man's; the servant broke out into a great noise of + crying and weeping, like a child; and I, on my side, stood staring at them + in a kind of horror. The sheriff's officer had run back at the first sound + of the shot, to hasten the coming of the soldiers. + </p> + <p> + At last the lawyer laid down the dead man in his blood upon the road, and + got to his own feet with a kind of stagger. + </p> + <p> + I believe it was his movement that brought me to my senses; for he had no + sooner done so than I began to scramble up the hill, crying out, "The + murderer! the murderer!" + </p> + <p> + So little a time had elapsed, that when I got to the top of the first + steepness, and could see some part of the open mountain, the murderer was + still moving away at no great distance. He was a big man, in a black coat, + with metal buttons, and carried a long fowling-piece. + </p> + <p> + "Here!" I cried. "I see him!" + </p> + <p> + At that the murderer gave a little, quick look over his shoulder, and + began to run. The next moment he was lost in a fringe of birches; then he + came out again on the upper side, where I could see him climbing like a + jackanapes, for that part was again very steep; and then he dipped behind + a shoulder, and I saw him no more. + </p> + <p> + All this time I had been running on my side, and had got a good way up, + when a voice cried upon me to stand. + </p> + <p> + I was at the edge of the upper wood, and so now, when I halted and looked + back, I saw all the open part of the hill below me. + </p> + <p> + The lawyer and the sheriff's officer were standing just above the road, + crying and waving on me to come back; and on their left, the red-coats, + musket in hand, were beginning to struggle singly out of the lower wood. + </p> + <p> + "Why should I come back?" I cried. "Come you on!" + </p> + <p> + "Ten pounds if ye take that lad!" cried the lawyer. "He's an accomplice. + He was posted here to hold us in talk." + </p> + <p> + At that word (which I could hear quite plainly, though it was to the + soldiers and not to me that he was crying it) my heart came in my mouth + with quite a new kind of terror. Indeed, it is one thing to stand the + danger of your life, and quite another to run the peril of both life and + character. The thing, besides, had come so suddenly, like thunder out of a + clear sky, that I was all amazed and helpless. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers began to spread, some of them to run, and others to put up + their pieces and cover me; and still I stood. + </p> + <p> + "Jouk* in here among the trees," said a voice close by. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Duck. +</pre> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0185m.jpg" alt="0185m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0185.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Indeed, I scarce knew what I was doing, but I obeyed; and as I did so, I + heard the firelocks bang and the balls whistle in the birches. + </p> + <p> + Just inside the shelter of the trees I found Alan Breck standing, with a + fishing-rod. He gave me no salutation; indeed it was no time for + civilities; only "Come!" says he, and set off running along the side of + the mountain towards Balachulish; and I, like a sheep, to follow him. + </p> + <p> + Now we ran among the birches; now stooping behind low humps upon the + mountain-side; now crawling on all fours among the heather. The pace was + deadly: my heart seemed bursting against my ribs; and I had neither time + to think nor breath to speak with. Only I remember seeing with wonder, + that Alan every now and then would straighten himself to his full height + and look back; and every time he did so, there came a great far-away + cheering and crying of the soldiers. + </p> + <p> + Quarter of an hour later, Alan stopped, clapped down flat in the heather, + and turned to me. + </p> + <p> + "Now," said he, "it's earnest. Do as I do, for your life." + </p> + <p> + And at the same speed, but now with infinitely more precaution, we traced + back again across the mountain-side by the same way that we had come, only + perhaps higher; till at last Alan threw himself down in the upper wood of + Lettermore, where I had found him at the first, and lay, with his face in + the bracken, panting like a dog. + </p> + <p> + My own sides so ached, my head so swam, my tongue so hung out of my mouth + with heat and dryness, that I lay beside him like one dead. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0188m.jpg" alt="0188m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0188.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <h3> + I TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9188m.jpg" alt="9188m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9188.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + lan was the first to come round. He rose, went to the border of the wood, + peered out a little, and then returned and sat down. + </p> + <p> + "Well," said he, "yon was a hot burst, David." + </p> + <p> + I said nothing, nor so much as lifted my face. I had seen murder done, and + a great, ruddy, jovial gentleman struck out of life in a moment; the pity + of that sight was still sore within me, and yet that was but a part of my + concern. Here was murder done upon the man Alan hated; here was Alan + skulking in the trees and running from the troops; and whether his was the + hand that fired or only the head that ordered, signified but little. By my + way of it, my only friend in that wild country was blood-guilty in the + first degree; I held him in horror; I could not look upon his face; I + would have rather lain alone in the rain on my cold isle, than in that + warm wood beside a murderer. + </p> + <p> + "Are ye still wearied?" he asked again. + </p> + <p> + "No," said I, still with my face in the bracken; "no, I am not wearied + now, and I can speak. You and me must twine,"* I said. "I liked you very + well, Alan, but your ways are not mine, and they're not God's: and the + short and the long of it is just that we must twine." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Part. +</pre> + <p> + "I will hardly twine from ye, David, without some kind of reason for the + same," said Alan, mighty gravely. "If ye ken anything against my + reputation, it's the least thing that ye should do, for old acquaintance' + sake, to let me hear the name of it; and if ye have only taken a distaste + to my society, it will be proper for me to judge if I'm insulted." + </p> + <p> + "Alan," said I, "what is the sense of this? Ye ken very well yon + Campbell-man lies in his blood upon the road." + </p> + <p> + He was silent for a little; then says he, "Did ever ye hear tell of the + story of the Man and the Good People?"—by which he meant the + fairies. + </p> + <p> + "No," said I, "nor do I want to hear it." + </p> + <p> + "With your permission, Mr. Balfour, I will tell it you, whatever," says + Alan. "The man, ye should ken, was cast upon a rock in the sea, where it + appears the Good People were in use to come and rest as they went through + to Ireland. The name of this rock is called the Skerryvore, and it's not + far from where we suffered ship-wreck. Well, it seems the man cried so + sore, if he could just see his little bairn before he died! that at last + the king of the Good People took peety upon him, and sent one flying that + brought back the bairn in a poke* and laid it down beside the man where he + lay sleeping. So when the man woke, there was a poke beside him and + something into the inside of it that moved. Well, it seems he was one of + these gentry that think aye the worst of things; and for greater security, + he stuck his dirk throughout that poke before he opened it, and there was + his bairn dead. I am thinking to myself, Mr. Balfour, that you and the man + are very much alike." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Bag. +</pre> + <p> + "Do you mean you had no hand in it?" cried I, sitting up. + </p> + <p> + "I will tell you first of all, Mr. Balfour of Shaws, as one friend to + another," said Alan, "that if I were going to kill a gentleman, it would + not be in my own country, to bring trouble on my clan; and I would not go + wanting sword and gun, and with a long fishing-rod upon my back." + </p> + <p> + "Well," said I, "that's true!" + </p> + <p> + "And now," continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying his hand upon it + in a certain manner, "I swear upon the Holy Iron I had neither art nor + part, act nor thought in it." + </p> + <p> + "I thank God for that!" cried I, and offered him my hand. + </p> + <p> + He did not appear to see it. + </p> + <p> + "And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell!" said he. "They are + not so scarce, that I ken!" + </p> + <p> + "At least," said I, "you cannot justly blame me, for you know very well + what you told me in the brig. But the temptation and the act are + different, I thank God again for that. We may all be tempted; but to take + a life in cold blood, Alan!" And I could say no more for the moment. "And + do you know who did it?" I added. "Do you know that man in the black + coat?" + </p> + <p> + "I have nae clear mind about his coat," said Alan cunningly, "but it + sticks in my head that it was blue." + </p> + <p> + "Blue or black, did ye know him?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "I couldnae just conscientiously swear to him," says Alan. "He gaed very + close by me, to be sure, but it's a strange thing that I should just have + been tying my brogues." + </p> + <p> + "Can you swear that you don't know him, Alan?" I cried, half angered, half + in a mind to laugh at his evasions. + </p> + <p> + "Not yet," says he; "but I've a grand memory for forgetting, David." + </p> + <p> + "And yet there was one thing I saw clearly," said I; "and that was, that + you exposed yourself and me to draw the soldiers." + </p> + <p> + "It's very likely," said Alan; "and so would any gentleman. You and me + were innocent of that transaction." + </p> + <p> + "The better reason, since we were falsely suspected, that we should get + clear," I cried. "The innocent should surely come before the guilty." + </p> + <p> + "Why, David," said he, "the innocent have aye a chance to get assoiled in + court; but for the lad that shot the bullet, I think the best place for + him will be the heather. Them that havenae dipped their hands in any + little difficulty, should be very mindful of the case of them that have. + And that is the good Christianity. For if it was the other way round + about, and the lad whom I couldnae just clearly see had been in our shoes, + and we in his (as might very well have been), I think we would be a good + deal obliged to him oursel's if he would draw the soldiers." + </p> + <p> + When it came to this, I gave Alan up. But he looked so innocent all the + time, and was in such clear good faith in what he said, and so ready to + sacrifice himself for what he deemed his duty, that my mouth was closed. + Mr. Henderland's words came back to me: that we ourselves might take a + lesson by these wild Highlanders. Well, here I had taken mine. Alan's + morals were all tail-first; but he was ready to give his life for them, + such as they were. + </p> + <p> + "Alan," said I, "I'll not say it's the good Christianity as I understand + it, but it's good enough. And here I offer ye my hand for the second + time." + </p> + <p> + Whereupon he gave me both of his, saying surely I had cast a spell upon + him, for he could forgive me anything. Then he grew very grave, and said + we had not much time to throw away, but must both flee that country: he, + because he was a deserter, and the whole of Appin would now be searched + like a chamber, and every one obliged to give a good account of himself; + and I, because I was certainly involved in the murder. + </p> + <p> + "O!" says I, willing to give him a little lesson, "I have no fear of the + justice of my country." + </p> + <p> + "As if this was your country!" said he. "Or as if ye would be tried here, + in a country of Stewarts!" + </p> + <p> + "It's all Scotland," said I. + </p> + <p> + "Man, I whiles wonder at ye," said Alan. "This is a Campbell that's been + killed. Well, it'll be tried in Inverara, the Campbells' head place; with + fifteen Campbells in the jury-box and the biggest Campbell of all (and + that's the Duke) sitting cocking on the bench. Justice, David? The same + justice, by all the world, as Glenure found awhile ago at the roadside." + </p> + <p> + This frightened me a little, I confess, and would have frightened me more + if I had known how nearly exact were Alan's predictions; indeed it was but + in one point that he exaggerated, there being but eleven Campbells on the + jury; though as the other four were equally in the Duke's dependence, it + mattered less than might appear. Still, I cried out that he was unjust to + the Duke of Argyle, who (for all he was a Whig) was yet a wise and honest + nobleman. + </p> + <p> + "Hoot!" said Alan, "the man's a Whig, nae doubt; but I would never deny he + was a good chieftain to his clan. And what would the clan think if there + was a Campbell shot, and naebody hanged, and their own chief the Justice + General? But I have often observed," says Alan, "that you Low-country + bodies have no clear idea of what's right and wrong." + </p> + <p> + At this I did at last laugh out aloud, when to my surprise, Alan joined + in, and laughed as merrily as myself. + </p> + <p> + "Na, na," said he, "we're in the Hielands, David; and when I tell ye to + run, take my word and run. Nae doubt it's a hard thing to skulk and starve + in the Heather, but it's harder yet to lie shackled in a red-coat prison." + </p> + <p> + I asked him whither we should flee; and as he told me "to the Lowlands," I + was a little better inclined to go with him; for, indeed, I was growing + impatient to get back and have the upper-hand of my uncle. Besides, Alan + made so sure there would be no question of justice in the matter, that I + began to be afraid he might be right. Of all deaths, I would truly like + least to die by the gallows; and the picture of that uncanny instrument + came into my head with extraordinary clearness (as I had once seen it + engraved at the top of a pedlar's ballad) and took away my appetite for + courts of justice. + </p> + <p> + "I'll chance it, Alan," said I. "I'll go with you." + </p> + <p> + "But mind you," said Alan, "it's no small thing. Ye maun lie bare and + hard, and brook many an empty belly. Your bed shall be the moorcock's, and + your life shall be like the hunted deer's, and ye shall sleep with your + hand upon your weapons. Ay, man, ye shall taigle many a weary foot, or we + get clear! I tell ye this at the start, for it's a life that I ken well. + But if ye ask what other chance ye have, I answer: Nane. Either take to + the heather with me, or else hang." + </p> + <p> + "And that's a choice very easily made," said I; and we shook hands upon + it. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0193m.jpg" alt="0193m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0193.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + "And now let's take another peek at the red-coats," says Alan, and he led + me to the north-eastern fringe of the wood. + </p> + <p> + Looking out between the trees, we could see a great side of mountain, + running down exceeding steep into the waters of the loch. It was a rough + part, all hanging stone, and heather, and big scrogs of birchwood; and + away at the far end towards Balachulish, little wee red soldiers were + dipping up and down over hill and howe, and growing smaller every minute. + There was no cheering now, for I think they had other uses for what breath + was left them; but they still stuck to the trail, and doubtless thought + that we were close in front of them. + </p> + <p> + Alan watched them, smiling to himself. + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said he, "they'll be gey weary before they've got to the end of that + employ! And so you and me, David, can sit down and eat a bite, and breathe + a bit longer, and take a dram from my bottle. Then we'll strike for + Aucharn, the house of my kinsman, James of the Glens, where I must get my + clothes, and my arms, and money to carry us along; and then, David, we'll + cry, 'Forth, Fortune!' and take a cast among the heather." + </p> + <p> + So we sat again and ate and drank, in a place whence we could see the sun + going down into a field of great, wild, and houseless mountains, such as I + was now condemned to wander in with my companion. Partly as we so sat, and + partly afterwards, on the way to Aucharn, each of us narrated his + adventures; and I shall here set down so much of Alan's as seems either + curious or needful. + </p> + <p> + It appears he ran to the bulwarks as soon as the wave was passed; saw me, + and lost me, and saw me again, as I tumbled in the roost; and at last had + one glimpse of me clinging on the yard. It was this that put him in some + hope I would maybe get to land after all, and made him leave those clues + and messages which had brought me (for my sins) to that unlucky country of + Appin. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile, those still on the brig had got the skiff launched, and + one or two were on board of her already, when there came a second wave + greater than the first, and heaved the brig out of her place, and would + certainly have sent her to the bottom, had she not struck and caught on + some projection of the reef. When she had struck first, it had been + bows-on, so that the stern had hitherto been lowest. But now her stern was + thrown in the air, and the bows plunged under the sea; and with that, the + water began to pour into the fore-scuttle like the pouring of a mill-dam. + </p> + <p> + It took the colour out of Alan's face, even to tell what followed. For + there were still two men lying impotent in their bunks; and these, seeing + the water pour in and thinking the ship had foundered, began to cry out + aloud, and that with such harrowing cries that all who were on deck + tumbled one after another into the skiff and fell to their oars. They were + not two hundred yards away, when there came a third great sea; and at that + the brig lifted clean over the reef; her canvas filled for a moment, and + she seemed to sail in chase of them, but settling all the while; and + presently she drew down and down, as if a hand was drawing her; and the + sea closed over the Covenant of Dysart. + </p> + <p> + Never a word they spoke as they pulled ashore, being stunned with the + horror of that screaming; but they had scarce set foot upon the beach when + Hoseason woke up, as if out of a muse, and bade them lay hands upon Alan. + They hung back indeed, having little taste for the employment; but + Hoseason was like a fiend, crying that Alan was alone, that he had a great + sum about him, that he had been the means of losing the brig and drowning + all their comrades, and that here was both revenge and wealth upon a + single cast. It was seven against one; in that part of the shore there was + no rock that Alan could set his back to; and the sailors began to spread + out and come behind him. + </p> + <p> + "And then," said Alan, "the little man with the red head—I havenae + mind of the name that he is called." + </p> + <p> + "Riach," said I. + </p> + <p> + "Ay" said Alan, "Riach! Well, it was him that took up the clubs for me, + asked the men if they werenae feared of a judgment, and, says he 'Dod, + I'll put my back to the Hielandman's mysel'.' That's none such an entirely + bad little man, yon little man with the red head," said Alan. "He has some + spunks of decency." + </p> + <p> + "Well," said I, "he was kind to me in his way." + </p> + <p> + "And so he was to Alan," said he; "and by my troth, I found his way a very + good one! But ye see, David, the loss of the ship and the cries of these + poor lads sat very ill upon the man; and I'm thinking that would be the + cause of it." + </p> + <p> + "Well, I would think so," says I; "for he was as keen as any of the rest + at the beginning. But how did Hoseason take it?" + </p> + <p> + "It sticks in my mind that he would take it very ill," says Alan. "But the + little man cried to me to run, and indeed I thought it was a good observe, + and ran. The last that I saw they were all in a knot upon the beach, like + folk that were not agreeing very well together." + </p> + <p> + "What do you mean by that?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "Well, the fists were going," said Alan; "and I saw one man go down like a + pair of breeks. But I thought it would be better no to wait. Ye see + there's a strip of Campbells in that end of Mull, which is no good company + for a gentleman like me. If it hadnae been for that I would have waited + and looked for ye mysel', let alone giving a hand to the little man." (It + was droll how Alan dwelt on Mr. Riach's stature, for, to say the truth, + the one was not much smaller than the other.) "So," says he, continuing, + "I set my best foot forward, and whenever I met in with any one I cried + out there was a wreck ashore. Man, they didnae stop to fash with me! Ye + should have seen them linking for the beach! And when they got there they + found they had had the pleasure of a run, which is aye good for a + Campbell. I'm thinking it was a judgment on the clan that the brig went + down in the lump and didnae break. But it was a very unlucky thing for + you, that same; for if any wreck had come ashore they would have hunted + high and low, and would soon have found ye." + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0199m.jpg" alt="0199m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0199.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <h3> + THE HOUSE OF FEAR + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9199m.jpg" alt="9199m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9199.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + ight fell as we were walking, and the clouds, which had broken up in the + afternoon, settled in and thickened, so that it fell, for the season of + the year, extremely dark. The way we went was over rough mountainsides; + and though Alan pushed on with an assured manner, I could by no means see + how he directed himself. + </p> + <p> + At last, about half-past ten of the clock, we came to the top of a brae, + and saw lights below us. It seemed a house door stood open and let out a + beam of fire and candle-light; and all round the house and steading five + or six persons were moving hurriedly about, each carrying a lighted brand. + </p> + <p> + "James must have tint his wits," said Alan. "If this was the soldiers + instead of you and me, he would be in a bonny mess. But I dare say he'll + have a sentry on the road, and he would ken well enough no soldiers would + find the way that we came." + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0201m.jpg" alt="0201m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0201.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Hereupon he whistled three times, in a particular manner. It was strange + to see how, at the first sound of it, all the moving torches came to a + stand, as if the bearers were affrighted; and how, at the third, the + bustle began again as before. + </p> + <p> + Having thus set folks' minds at rest, we came down the brae, and were met + at the yard gate (for this place was like a well-doing farm) by a tall, + handsome man of more than fifty, who cried out to Alan in the Gaelic. + </p> + <p> + "James Stewart," said Alan, "I will ask ye to speak in Scotch, for here is + a young gentleman with me that has nane of the other. This is him," he + added, putting his arm through mine, "a young gentleman of the Lowlands, + and a laird in his country too, but I am thinking it will be the better + for his health if we give his name the go-by." + </p> + <p> + James of the Glens turned to me for a moment, and greeted me courteously + enough; the next he had turned to Alan. + </p> + <p> + "This has been a dreadful accident," he cried. "It will bring trouble on + the country." And he wrung his hands. + </p> + <p> + "Hoots!" said Alan, "ye must take the sour with the sweet, man. Colin Roy + is dead, and be thankful for that!" + </p> + <p> + "Ay" said James, "and by my troth, I wish he was alive again! It's all + very fine to blow and boast beforehand; but now it's done, Alan; and who's + to bear the wyte* of it? The accident fell out in Appin—mind ye + that, Alan; it's Appin that must pay; and I am a man that has a family." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Blame. +</pre> + <p> + While this was going on I looked about me at the servants. Some were on + ladders, digging in the thatch of the house or the farm buildings, from + which they brought out guns, swords, and different weapons of war; others + carried them away; and by the sound of mattock blows from somewhere + farther down the brae, I suppose they buried them. Though they were all so + busy, there prevailed no kind of order in their efforts; men struggled + together for the same gun and ran into each other with their burning + torches; and James was continually turning about from his talk with Alan, + to cry out orders which were apparently never understood. The faces in the + torchlight were like those of people overborne with hurry and panic; and + though none spoke above his breath, their speech sounded both anxious and + angry. + </p> + <p> + It was about this time that a lassie came out of the house carrying a pack + or bundle; and it has often made me smile to think how Alan's instinct + awoke at the mere sight of it. + </p> + <p> + "What's that the lassie has?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "We're just setting the house in order, Alan," said James, in his + frightened and somewhat fawning way. "They'll search Appin with candles, + and we must have all things straight. We're digging the bit guns and + swords into the moss, ye see; and these, I am thinking, will be your ain + French clothes. We'll be to bury them, I believe." + </p> + <p> + "Bury my French clothes!" cried Alan. "Troth, no!" And he laid hold upon + the packet and retired into the barn to shift himself, recommending me in + the meanwhile to his kinsman. + </p> + <p> + James carried me accordingly into the kitchen, and sat down with me at + table, smiling and talking at first in a very hospitable manner. But + presently the gloom returned upon him; he sat frowning and biting his + fingers; only remembered me from time to time; and then gave me but a word + or two and a poor smile, and back into his private terrors. His wife sat + by the fire and wept, with her face in her hands; his eldest son was + crouched upon the floor, running over a great mass of papers and now and + again setting one alight and burning it to the bitter end; all the while a + servant lass with a red face was rummaging about the room, in a blind + hurry of fear, and whimpering as she went; and every now and again one of + the men would thrust in his face from the yard, and cry for orders. + </p> + <p> + At last James could keep his seat no longer, and begged my permission to + be so unmannerly as walk about. "I am but poor company altogether, sir," + says he, "but I can think of nothing but this dreadful accident, and the + trouble it is like to bring upon quite innocent persons." + </p> + <p> + A little after he observed his son burning a paper which he thought should + have been kept; and at that his excitement burst out so that it was + painful to witness. He struck the lad repeatedly. + </p> + <p> + "Are you gone gyte?"* he cried. "Do you wish to hang your father?" and + forgetful of my presence, carried on at him a long time together in the + Gaelic, the young man answering nothing; only the wife, at the name of + hanging, throwing her apron over her face and sobbing out louder than + before. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Mad. +</pre> + <p> + This was all wretched for a stranger like myself to hear and see; and I + was right glad when Alan returned, looking like himself in his fine French + clothes, though (to be sure) they were now grown almost too battered and + withered to deserve the name of fine. I was then taken out in my turn by + another of the sons, and given that change of clothing of which I had + stood so long in need, and a pair of Highland brogues made of + deer-leather, rather strange at first, but after a little practice very + easy to the feet. + </p> + <p> + By the time I came back Alan must have told his story; for it seemed + understood that I was to fly with him, and they were all busy upon our + equipment. They gave us each a sword and pistols, though I professed my + inability to use the former; and with these, and some ammunition, a bag of + oatmeal, an iron pan, and a bottle of right French brandy, we were ready + for the heather. Money, indeed, was lacking. I had about two guineas left; + Alan's belt having been despatched by another hand, that trusty messenger + had no more than seventeen-pence to his whole fortune; and as for James, + it appears he had brought himself so low with journeys to Edinburgh and + legal expenses on behalf of the tenants, that he could only scrape + together three-and-five-pence-halfpenny, the most of it in coppers. + </p> + <p> + "This'll no do," said Alan. + </p> + <p> + "Ye must find a safe bit somewhere near by," said James, "and get word + sent to me. Ye see, ye'll have to get this business prettily off, Alan. + This is no time to be stayed for a guinea or two. They're sure to get wind + of ye, sure to seek ye, and by my way of it, sure to lay on ye the wyte of + this day's accident. If it falls on you, it falls on me that am your near + kinsman and harboured ye while ye were in the country. And if it comes on + me——" he paused, and bit his fingers, with a white face. "It + would be a painful thing for our friends if I was to hang," said he. + </p> + <p> + "It would be an ill day for Appin," says Alan. + </p> + <p> + "It's a day that sticks in my throat," said James. "O man, man, man—man + Alan! you and me have spoken like two fools!" he cried, striking his hand + upon the wall so that the house rang again. + </p> + <p> + "Well, and that's true, too," said Alan; "and my friend from the Lowlands + here" (nodding at me) "gave me a good word upon that head, if I would only + have listened to him." + </p> + <p> + "But see here," said James, returning to his former manner, "if they lay + me by the heels, Alan, it's then that you'll be needing the money. For + with all that I have said and that you have said, it will look very black + against the two of us; do ye mark that? Well, follow me out, and ye'll, + I'll see that I'll have to get a paper out against ye mysel'; have to + offer a reward for ye; ay, will I! It's a sore thing to do between such + near friends; but if I get the dirdum* of this dreadful accident, I'll + have to fend for myself, man. Do ye see that?" + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Blame. +</pre> + <p> + He spoke with a pleading earnestness, taking Alan by the breast of the + coat. + </p> + <p> + "Ay" said Alan, "I see that." + </p> + <p> + "And ye'll have to be clear of the country, Alan—ay, and clear of + Scotland—you and your friend from the Lowlands, too. For I'll have + to paper your friend from the Lowlands. Ye see that, Alan—say that + ye see that!" + </p> + <p> + I thought Alan flushed a bit. "This is unco hard on me that brought him + here, James," said he, throwing his head back. "It's like making me a + traitor!" + </p> + <p> + "Now, Alan, man!" cried James. "Look things in the face! He'll be papered + anyway; Mungo Campbell'll be sure to paper him; what matters if I paper + him too? And then, Alan, I am a man that has a family." And then, after a + little pause on both sides, "And, Alan, it'll be a jury of Campbells," + said he. + </p> + <p> + "There's one thing," said Alan, musingly, "that naebody kens his name." + </p> + <p> + "Nor yet they shallnae, Alan! There's my hand on that," cried James, for + all the world as if he had really known my name and was foregoing some + advantage. "But just the habit he was in, and what he looked like, and his + age, and the like? I couldnae well do less." + </p> + <p> + "I wonder at your father's son," cried Alan, sternly. "Would ye sell the + lad with a gift? Would ye change his clothes and then betray him?" + </p> + <p> + "No, no, Alan," said James. "No, no: the habit he took off—the habit + Mungo saw him in." But I thought he seemed crestfallen; indeed, he was + clutching at every straw, and all the time, I dare say, saw the faces of + his hereditary foes on the bench, and in the jury-box, and the gallows in + the background. + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir," says Alan, turning to me, "what say ye to that? Ye are here + under the safeguard of my honour; and it's my part to see nothing done but + what shall please you." + </p> + <p> + "I have but one word to say," said I; "for to all this dispute I am a + perfect stranger. But the plain common-sense is to set the blame where it + belongs, and that is on the man who fired the shot. Paper him, as ye call + it, set the hunt on him; and let honest, innocent folk show their faces in + safety." But at this both Alan and James cried out in horror; bidding me + hold my tongue, for that was not to be thought of; and asking me what the + Camerons would think? (which confirmed me, it must have been a Cameron + from Mamore that did the act) and if I did not see that the lad might be + caught? "Ye havenae surely thought of that?" said they, with such innocent + earnestness, that my hands dropped at my side and I despaired of argument. + </p> + <p> + "Very well, then," said I, "paper me, if you please, paper Alan, paper + King George! We're all three innocent, and that seems to be what's wanted. + But at least, sir," said I to James, recovering from my little fit of + annoyance, "I am Alan's friend, and if I can be helpful to friends of his, + I will not stumble at the risk." + </p> + <p> + I thought it best to put a fair face on my consent, for I saw Alan + troubled; and, besides (thinks I to myself), as soon as my back is turned, + they will paper me, as they call it, whether I consent or not. But in this + I saw I was wrong; for I had no sooner said the words, than Mrs. Stewart + leaped out of her chair, came running over to us, and wept first upon my + neck and then on Alan's, blessing God for our goodness to her family. + </p> + <p> + "As for you, Alan, it was no more than your bounden duty," she said. "But + for this lad that has come here and seen us at our worst, and seen the + goodman fleeching like a suitor, him that by rights should give his + commands like any king—as for you, my lad," she says, "my heart is + wae not to have your name, but I have your face; and as long as my heart + beats under my bosom, I will keep it, and think of it, and bless it." And + with that she kissed me, and burst once more into such sobbing, that I + stood abashed. + </p> + <p> + "Hoot, hoot," said Alan, looking mighty silly. "The day comes unco soon in + this month of July; and to-morrow there'll be a fine to-do in Appin, a + fine riding of dragoons, and crying of 'Cruachan!'* and running of + red-coats; and it behoves you and me to the sooner be gone." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * The rallying-word of the Campbells. +</pre> + <p> + Thereupon we said farewell, and set out again, bending somewhat eastwards, + in a fine mild dark night, and over much the same broken country as + before. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0208m.jpg" alt="0208m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0208.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <h3> + THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9208m.jpg" alt="9208m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9208.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + ometimes we walked, sometimes ran; and as it drew on to morning, walked + ever the less and ran the more. Though, upon its face, that country + appeared to be a desert, yet there were huts and houses of the people, of + which we must have passed more than twenty, hidden in quiet places of the + hills. When we came to one of these, Alan would leave me in the way, and + go himself and rap upon the side of the house and speak awhile at the + window with some sleeper awakened. This was to pass the news; which, in + that country, was so much of a duty that Alan must pause to attend to it + even while fleeing for his life; and so well attended to by others, that + in more than half of the houses where we called they had heard already of + the murder. In the others, as well as I could make out (standing back at a + distance and hearing a strange tongue), the news was received with more of + consternation than surprise. + </p> + <p> + For all our hurry, day began to come in while we were still far from any + shelter. It found us in a prodigious valley, strewn with rocks and where + ran a foaming river. Wild mountains stood around it; there grew there + neither grass nor trees; and I have sometimes thought since then, that it + may have been the valley called Glencoe, where the massacre was in the + time of King William. But for the details of our itinerary, I am all to + seek; our way lying now by short cuts, now by great detours; our pace + being so hurried, our time of journeying usually by night; and the names + of such places as I asked and heard being in the Gaelic tongue and the + more easily forgotten. + </p> + <p> + The first peep of morning, then, showed us this horrible place, and I + could see Alan knit his brow. + </p> + <p> + "This is no fit place for you and me," he said. "This is a place they're + bound to watch." + </p> + <p> + And with that he ran harder than ever down to the water-side, in a part + where the river was split in two among three rocks. It went through with a + horrid thundering that made my belly quake; and there hung over the lynn a + little mist of spray. Alan looked neither to the right nor to the left, + but jumped clean upon the middle rock and fell there on his hands and + knees to check himself, for that rock was small and he might have pitched + over on the far side. I had scarce time to measure the distance or to + understand the peril before I had followed him, and he had caught and + stopped me. + </p> + <p> + So there we stood, side by side upon a small rock slippery with spray, a + far broader leap in front of us, and the river dinning upon all sides. + When I saw where I was, there came on me a deadly sickness of fear, and I + put my hand over my eyes. Alan took me and shook me; I saw he was + speaking, but the roaring of the falls and the trouble of my mind + prevented me from hearing; only I saw his face was red with anger, and + that he stamped upon the rock. The same look showed me the water raging + by, and the mist hanging in the air: and with that I covered my eyes again + and shuddered. + </p> + <p> + The next minute Alan had set the brandy bottle to my lips, and forced me + to drink about a gill, which sent the blood into my head again. Then, + putting his hands to his mouth, and his mouth to my ear, he shouted, "Hang + or drown!" and turning his back upon me, leaped over the farther branch of + the stream, and landed safe. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0211m.jpg" alt="0211m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0211.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + I was now alone upon the rock, which gave me the more room; the brandy was + singing in my ears; I had this good example fresh before me, and just wit + enough to see that if I did not leap at once, I should never leap at all. + I bent low on my knees and flung myself forth, with that kind of anger of + despair that has sometimes stood me in stead of courage. Sure enough, it + was but my hands that reached the full length; these slipped, caught + again, slipped again; and I was sliddering back into the lynn, when Alan + seized me, first by the hair, then by the collar, and with a great strain + dragged me into safety. + </p> + <p> + Never a word he said, but set off running again for his life, and I must + stagger to my feet and run after him. I had been weary before, but now I + was sick and bruised, and partly drunken with the brandy; I kept stumbling + as I ran, I had a stitch that came near to overmaster me; and when at last + Alan paused under a great rock that stood there among a number of others, + it was none too soon for David Balfour. + </p> + <p> + A great rock I have said; but by rights it was two rocks leaning together + at the top, both some twenty feet high, and at the first sight + inaccessible. Even Alan (though you may say he had as good as four hands) + failed twice in an attempt to climb them; and it was only at the third + trial, and then by standing on my shoulders and leaping up with such force + as I thought must have broken my collar-bone, that he secured a lodgment. + Once there, he let down his leathern girdle; and with the aid of that and + a pair of shallow footholds in the rock, I scrambled up beside him. + </p> + <p> + Then I saw why we had come there; for the two rocks, being both somewhat + hollow on the top and sloping one to the other, made a kind of dish or + saucer, where as many as three or four men might have lain hidden. + </p> + <p> + All this while Alan had not said a word, and had run and climbed with such + a savage, silent frenzy of hurry, that I knew that he was in mortal fear + of some miscarriage. Even now we were on the rock he said nothing, nor so + much as relaxed the frowning look upon his face; but clapped flat down, + and keeping only one eye above the edge of our place of shelter scouted + all round the compass. The dawn had come quite clear; we could see the + stony sides of the valley, and its bottom, which was bestrewed with rocks, + and the river, which went from one side to another, and made white falls; + but nowhere the smoke of a house, nor any living creature but some eagles + screaming round a cliff. + </p> + <p> + Then at last Alan smiled. + </p> + <p> + "Ay" said he, "now we have a chance;" and then looking at me with some + amusement, "Ye're no very gleg* at the jumping," said he. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Brisk. +</pre> + <p> + At this I suppose I coloured with mortification, for he added at once, + "Hoots! small blame to ye! To be feared of a thing and yet to do it, is + what makes the prettiest kind of a man. And then there was water there, + and water's a thing that dauntons even me. No, no," said Alan, "it's no + you that's to blame, it's me." + </p> + <p> + I asked him why. + </p> + <p> + "Why," said he, "I have proved myself a gomeral this night. For first of + all I take a wrong road, and that in my own country of Appin; so that the + day has caught us where we should never have been; and thanks to that, we + lie here in some danger and mair discomfort. And next (which is the worst + of the two, for a man that has been so much among the heather as myself) I + have come wanting a water-bottle, and here we lie for a long summer's day + with naething but neat spirit. Ye may think that a small matter; but + before it comes night, David, ye'll give me news of it." + </p> + <p> + I was anxious to redeem my character, and offered, if he would pour out + the brandy, to run down and fill the bottle at the river. + </p> + <p> + "I wouldnae waste the good spirit either," says he. "It's been a good + friend to you this night; or in my poor opinion, ye would still be cocking + on yon stone. And what's mair," says he, "ye may have observed (you that's + a man of so much penetration) that Alan Breck Stewart was perhaps walking + quicker than his ordinar'." + </p> + <p> + "You!" I cried, "you were running fit to burst." + </p> + <p> + "Was I so?" said he. "Well, then, ye may depend upon it, there was nae + time to be lost. And now here is enough said; gang you to your sleep, lad, + and I'll watch." + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, I lay down to sleep; a little peaty earth had drifted in + between the top of the two rocks, and some bracken grew there, to be a bed + to me; the last thing I heard was still the crying of the eagles. + </p> + <p> + I dare say it would be nine in the morning when I was roughly awakened, + and found Alan's hand pressed upon my mouth. + </p> + <p> + "Wheesht!" he whispered. "Ye were snoring." + </p> + <p> + "Well," said I, surprised at his anxious and dark face, "and why not?" + </p> + <p> + He peered over the edge of the rock, and signed to me to do the like. + </p> + <p> + It was now high day, cloudless, and very hot. The valley was as clear as + in a picture. About half a mile up the water was a camp of red-coats; a + big fire blazed in their midst, at which some were cooking; and near by, + on the top of a rock about as high as ours, there stood a sentry, with the + sun sparkling on his arms. All the way down along the river-side were + posted other sentries; here near together, there widelier scattered; some + planted like the first, on places of command, some on the ground level and + marching and counter-marching, so as to meet half-way. Higher up the glen, + where the ground was more open, the chain of posts was continued by + horse-soldiers, whom we could see in the distance riding to and fro. Lower + down, the infantry continued; but as the stream was suddenly swelled by + the confluence of a considerable burn, they were more widely set, and only + watched the fords and stepping-stones. + </p> + <p> + I took but one look at them, and ducked again into my place. It was + strange indeed to see this valley, which had lain so solitary in the hour + of dawn, bristling with arms and dotted with the red coats and breeches. + </p> + <p> + "Ye see," said Alan, "this was what I was afraid of, Davie: that they + would watch the burn-side. They began to come in about two hours ago, and, + man! but ye're a grand hand at the sleeping! We're in a narrow place. If + they get up the sides of the hill, they could easy spy us with a glass; + but if they'll only keep in the foot of the valley, we'll do yet. The + posts are thinner down the water; and, come night, we'll try our hand at + getting by them." + </p> + <p> + "And what are we to do till night?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "Lie here," says he, "and birstle." + </p> + <p> + That one good Scotch word, "birstle," was indeed the most of the story of + the day that we had now to pass. You are to remember that we lay on the + bare top of a rock, like scones upon a girdle; the sun beat upon us + cruelly; the rock grew so heated, a man could scarce endure the touch of + it; and the little patch of earth and fern, which kept cooler, was only + large enough for one at a time. We took turn about to lie on the naked + rock, which was indeed like the position of that saint that was martyred + on a gridiron; and it ran in my mind how strange it was, that in the same + climate and at only a few days' distance, I should have suffered so + cruelly, first from cold upon my island and now from heat upon this rock. + </p> + <p> + All the while we had no water, only raw brandy for a drink, which was + worse than nothing; but we kept the bottle as cool as we could, burying it + in the earth, and got some relief by bathing our breasts and temples. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers kept stirring all day in the bottom of the valley, now + changing guard, now in patrolling parties hunting among the rocks. These + lay round in so great a number, that to look for men among them was like + looking for a needle in a bottle of hay; and being so hopeless a task, it + was gone about with the less care. Yet we could see the soldiers pike + their bayonets among the heather, which sent a cold thrill into my vitals; + and they would sometimes hang about our rock, so that we scarce dared to + breathe. + </p> + <p> + It was in this way that I first heard the right English speech; one fellow + as he went by actually clapping his hand upon the sunny face of the rock + on which we lay, and plucking it off again with an oath. "I tell you it's + 'ot," says he; and I was amazed at the clipping tones and the odd + sing-song in which he spoke, and no less at that strange trick of dropping + out the letter "h." To be sure, I had heard Ransome; but he had taken his + ways from all sorts of people, and spoke so imperfectly at the best, that + I set down the most of it to childishness. My surprise was all the greater + to hear that manner of speaking in the mouth of a grown man; and indeed I + have never grown used to it; nor yet altogether with the English grammar, + as perhaps a very critical eye might here and there spy out even in these + memoirs. + </p> + <p> + The tediousness and pain of these hours upon the rock grew only the + greater as the day went on; the rock getting still the hotter and the sun + fiercer. There were giddiness, and sickness, and sharp pangs like + rheumatism, to be supported. I minded then, and have often minded since, + on the lines in our Scotch psalm:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "The moon by night thee shall not smite, + Nor yet the sun by day;" +</pre> + <p> + and indeed it was only by God's blessing that we were neither of us + sun-smitten. + </p> + <p> + At last, about two, it was beyond men's bearing, and there was now + temptation to resist, as well as pain to thole. For the sun being now got + a little into the west, there came a patch of shade on the east side of + our rock, which was the side sheltered from the soldiers. + </p> + <p> + "As well one death as another," said Alan, and slipped over the edge and + dropped on the ground on the shadowy side. + </p> + <p> + I followed him at once, and instantly fell all my length, so weak was I + and so giddy with that long exposure. Here, then, we lay for an hour or + two, aching from head to foot, as weak as water, and lying quite naked to + the eye of any soldier who should have strolled that way. None came, + however, all passing by on the other side; so that our rock continued to + be our shield even in this new position. + </p> + <p> + Presently we began again to get a little strength; and as the soldiers + were now lying closer along the river-side, Alan proposed that we should + try a start. I was by this time afraid of but one thing in the world; and + that was to be set back upon the rock; anything else was welcome to me; so + we got ourselves at once in marching order, and began to slip from rock to + rock one after the other, now crawling flat on our bellies in the shade, + now making a run for it, heart in mouth. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers, having searched this side of the valley after a fashion, and + being perhaps somewhat sleepy with the sultriness of the afternoon, had + now laid by much of their vigilance, and stood dozing at their posts or + only kept a look-out along the banks of the river; so that in this way, + keeping down the valley and at the same time towards the mountains, we + drew steadily away from their neighbourhood. But the business was the most + wearing I had ever taken part in. A man had need of a hundred eyes in + every part of him, to keep concealed in that uneven country and within cry + of so many and scattered sentries. When we must pass an open place, + quickness was not all, but a swift judgment not only of the lie of the + whole country, but of the solidity of every stone on which we must set + foot; for the afternoon was now fallen so breathless that the rolling of a + pebble sounded abroad like a pistol shot, and would start the echo calling + among the hills and cliffs. + </p> + <p> + By sundown we had made some distance, even by our slow rate of progress, + though to be sure the sentry on the rock was still plainly in our view. + But now we came on something that put all fears out of season; and that + was a deep rushing burn, that tore down, in that part, to join the glen + river. At the sight of this we cast ourselves on the ground and plunged + head and shoulders in the water; and I cannot tell which was the more + pleasant, the great shock as the cool stream went over us, or the greed + with which we drank of it. + </p> + <p> + We lay there (for the banks hid us), drank again and again, bathed our + chests, let our wrists trail in the running water till they ached with the + chill; and at last, being wonderfully renewed, we got out the meal-bag and + made drammach in the iron pan. This, though it is but cold water mingled + with oatmeal, yet makes a good enough dish for a hungry man; and where + there are no means of making fire, or (as in our case) good reason for not + making one, it is the chief stand-by of those who have taken to the + heather. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the shadow of the night had fallen, we set forth again, at + first with the same caution, but presently with more boldness, standing + our full height and stepping out at a good pace of walking. The way was + very intricate, lying up the steep sides of mountains and along the brows + of cliffs; clouds had come in with the sunset, and the night was dark and + cool; so that I walked without much fatigue, but in continual fear of + falling and rolling down the mountains, and with no guess at our + direction. + </p> + <p> + The moon rose at last and found us still on the road; it was in its last + quarter, and was long beset with clouds; but after awhile shone out and + showed me many dark heads of mountains, and was reflected far underneath + us on the narrow arm of a sea-loch. + </p> + <p> + At this sight we both paused: I struck with wonder to find myself so high + and walking (as it seemed to me) upon clouds; Alan to make sure of his + direction. + </p> + <p> + Seemingly he was well pleased, and he must certainly have judged us out of + ear-shot of all our enemies; for throughout the rest of our night-march he + beguiled the way with whistling of many tunes, warlike, merry, plaintive; + reel tunes that made the foot go faster; tunes of my own south country + that made me fain to be home from my adventures; and all these, on the + great, dark, desert mountains, making company upon the way. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0220m.jpg" alt="0220m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0220.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <h3> + THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9220m.jpg" alt="9220m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9220.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + arly as day comes in the beginning of July, it was still dark when we + reached our destination, a cleft in the head of a great mountain, with a + water running through the midst, and upon the one hand a shallow cave in a + rock. Birches grew there in a thin, pretty wood, which a little farther on + was changed into a wood of pines. The burn was full of trout; the wood of + cushat-doves; on the open side of the mountain beyond, whaups would be + always whistling, and cuckoos were plentiful. From the mouth of the cleft + we looked down upon a part of Mamore, and on the sea-loch that divides + that country from Appin; and this from so great a height as made it my + continual wonder and pleasure to sit and behold them. + </p> + <p> + The name of the cleft was the Heugh of Corrynakiegh; and although from its + height and being so near upon the sea, it was often beset with clouds, yet + it was on the whole a pleasant place, and the five days we lived in it + went happily. + </p> + <p> + We slept in the cave, making our bed of heather bushes which we cut for + that purpose, and covering ourselves with Alan's great-coat. There was a + low concealed place, in a turning of the glen, where we were so bold as to + make fire: so that we could warm ourselves when the clouds set in, and + cook hot porridge, and grill the little trouts that we caught with our + hands under the stones and overhanging banks of the burn. This was indeed + our chief pleasure and business; and not only to save our meal against + worse times, but with a rivalry that much amused us, we spent a great part + of our days at the water-side, stripped to the waist and groping about or + (as they say) guddling for these fish. The largest we got might have been + a quarter of a pound; but they were of good flesh and flavour, and when + broiled upon the coals, lacked only a little salt to be delicious. + </p> + <p> + In any by-time Alan must teach me to use my sword, for my ignorance had + much distressed him; and I think besides, as I had sometimes the + upper-hand of him in the fishing, he was not sorry to turn to an exercise + where he had so much the upper-hand of me. He made it somewhat more of a + pain than need have been, for he stormed at me all through the lessons in + a very violent manner of scolding, and would push me so close that I made + sure he must run me through the body. I was often tempted to turn tail, + but held my ground for all that, and got some profit of my lessons; if it + was but to stand on guard with an assured countenance, which is often all + that is required. So, though I could never in the least please my master, + I was not altogether displeased with myself. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile, you are not to suppose that we neglected our chief + business, which was to get away. + </p> + <p> + "It will be many a long day," Alan said to me on our first morning, + "before the red-coats think upon seeking Corrynakiegh; so now we must get + word sent to James, and he must find the siller for us." + </p> + <p> + "And how shall we send that word?" says I. "We are here in a desert place, + which yet we dare not leave; and unless ye get the fowls of the air to be + your messengers, I see not what we shall be able to do." + </p> + <p> + "Ay?" said Alan. "Ye're a man of small contrivance, David." + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he fell in a muse, looking in the embers of the fire; and + presently, getting a piece of wood, he fashioned it in a cross, the four + ends of which he blackened on the coals. Then he looked at me a little + shyly. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0223m.jpg" alt="0223m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0223.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + "Could ye lend me my button?" says he. "It seems a strange thing to ask a + gift again, but I own I am laith to cut another." + </p> + <p> + I gave him the button; whereupon he strung it on a strip of his great-coat + which he had used to bind the cross; and tying in a little sprig of birch + and another of fir, he looked upon his work with satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + "Now," said he, "there is a little clachan" (what is called a hamlet in + the English) "not very far from Corrynakiegh, and it has the name of + Koalisnacoan. There there are living many friends of mine whom I could + trust with my life, and some that I am no just so sure of. Ye see, David, + there will be money set upon our heads; James himsel' is to set money on + them; and as for the Campbells, they would never spare siller where there + was a Stewart to be hurt. If it was otherwise, I would go down to + Koalisnacoan whatever, and trust my life into these people's hands as + lightly as I would trust another with my glove." + </p> + <p> + "But being so?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "Being so," said he, "I would as lief they didnae see me. There's bad folk + everywhere, and what's far worse, weak ones. So when it comes dark again, + I will steal down into that clachan, and set this that I have been making + in the window of a good friend of mine, John Breck Maccoll, a bouman* of + Appin's." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *A bouman is a tenant who takes stock from the landlord and + shares with him the increase. +</pre> + <p> + "With all my heart," says I; "and if he finds it, what is he to think?" + </p> + <p> + "Well," says Alan, "I wish he was a man of more penetration, for by my + troth I am afraid he will make little enough of it! But this is what I + have in my mind. This cross is something in the nature of the crosstarrie, + or fiery cross, which is the signal of gathering in our clans; yet he will + know well enough the clan is not to rise, for there it is standing in his + window, and no word with it. So he will say to himsel', THE CLAN IS NOT TO + RISE, BUT THERE IS SOMETHING. Then he will see my button, and that was + Duncan Stewart's. And then he will say to himsel', THE SON OF DUNCAN IS IN + THE HEATHER, AND HAS NEED OF ME." + </p> + <p> + "Well," said I, "it may be. But even supposing so, there is a good deal of + heather between here and the Forth." + </p> + <p> + "And that is a very true word," says Alan. "But then John Breck will see + the sprig of birch and the sprig of pine; and he will say to himsel' (if + he is a man of any penetration at all, which I misdoubt), ALAN WILL BE + LYING IN A WOOD WHICH IS BOTH OF PINES AND BIRCHES. Then he will think to + himsel', THAT IS NOT SO VERY RIFE HEREABOUT; and then he will come and + give us a look up in Corrynakiegh. And if he does not, David, the devil + may fly away with him, for what I care; for he will no be worth the salt + to his porridge." + </p> + <p> + "Eh, man," said I, drolling with him a little, "you're very ingenious! But + would it not be simpler for you to write him a few words in black and + white?" + </p> + <p> + "And that is an excellent observe, Mr. Balfour of Shaws," says Alan, + drolling with me; "and it would certainly be much simpler for me to write + to him, but it would be a sore job for John Breck to read it. He would + have to go to the school for two-three years; and it's possible we might + be wearied waiting on him." + </p> + <p> + So that night Alan carried down his fiery cross and set it in the bouman's + window. He was troubled when he came back; for the dogs had barked and the + folk run out from their houses; and he thought he had heard a clatter of + arms and seen a red-coat come to one of the doors. On all accounts we lay + the next day in the borders of the wood and kept a close look-out, so that + if it was John Breck that came we might be ready to guide him, and if it + was the red-coats we should have time to get away. + </p> + <p> + About noon a man was to be spied, straggling up the open side of the + mountain in the sun, and looking round him as he came, from under his + hand. No sooner had Alan seen him than he whistled; the man turned and + came a little towards us: then Alan would give another "peep!" and the man + would come still nearer; and so by the sound of whistling, he was guided + to the spot where we lay. + </p> + <p> + He was a ragged, wild, bearded man, about forty, grossly disfigured with + the small pox, and looked both dull and savage. Although his English was + very bad and broken, yet Alan (according to his very handsome use, + whenever I was by) would suffer him to speak no Gaelic. Perhaps the + strange language made him appear more backward than he really was; but I + thought he had little good-will to serve us, and what he had was the child + of terror. + </p> + <p> + Alan would have had him carry a message to James; but the bouman would + hear of no message. "She was forget it," he said in his screaming voice; + and would either have a letter or wash his hands of us. + </p> + <p> + I thought Alan would be gravelled at that, for we lacked the means of + writing in that desert. + </p> + <p> + But he was a man of more resources than I knew; searched the wood until he + found the quill of a cushat-dove, which he shaped into a pen; made himself + a kind of ink with gunpowder from his horn and water from the running + stream; and tearing a corner from his French military commission (which he + carried in his pocket, like a talisman to keep him from the gallows), he + sat down and wrote as follows: + </p> + <p> + "DEAR KINSMAN,—Please send the money by the bearer to the place he + kens of. + </p> + <p> + "Your affectionate cousin, + </p> + <p> + "A. S." + </p> + <p> + This he intrusted to the bouman, who promised to make what manner of speed + he best could, and carried it off with him down the hill. + </p> + <p> + He was three full days gone, but about five in the evening of the third, + we heard a whistling in the wood, which Alan answered; and presently the + bouman came up the water-side, looking for us, right and left. He seemed + less sulky than before, and indeed he was no doubt well pleased to have + got to the end of such a dangerous commission. + </p> + <p> + He gave us the news of the country; that it was alive with red-coats; that + arms were being found, and poor folk brought in trouble daily; and that + James and some of his servants were already clapped in prison at Fort + William, under strong suspicion of complicity. It seemed it was noised on + all sides that Alan Breck had fired the shot; and there was a bill issued + for both him and me, with one hundred pounds reward. + </p> + <p> + This was all as bad as could be; and the little note the bouman had + carried us from Mrs. Stewart was of a miserable sadness. In it she + besought Alan not to let himself be captured, assuring him, if he fell in + the hands of the troops, both he and James were no better than dead men. + The money she had sent was all that she could beg or borrow, and she + prayed heaven we could be doing with it. Lastly, she said, she enclosed us + one of the bills in which we were described. + </p> + <p> + This we looked upon with great curiosity and not a little fear, partly as + a man may look in a mirror, partly as he might look into the barrel of an + enemy's gun to judge if it be truly aimed. Alan was advertised as "a + small, pock-marked, active man of thirty-five or thereby, dressed in a + feathered hat, a French side-coat of blue with silver buttons, and lace a + great deal tarnished, a red waistcoat and breeches of black, shag;" and I + as "a tall strong lad of about eighteen, wearing an old blue coat, very + ragged, an old Highland bonnet, a long homespun waistcoat, blue breeches; + his legs bare, low-country shoes, wanting the toes; speaks like a + Lowlander, and has no beard." + </p> + <p> + Alan was well enough pleased to see his finery so fully remembered and set + down; only when he came to the word tarnish, he looked upon his lace like + one a little mortified. As for myself, I thought I cut a miserable figure + in the bill; and yet was well enough pleased too, for since I had changed + these rags, the description had ceased to be a danger and become a source + of safety. + </p> + <p> + "Alan," said I, "you should change your clothes." + </p> + <p> + "Na, troth!" said Alan, "I have nae others. A fine sight I would be, if I + went back to France in a bonnet!" + </p> + <p> + This put a second reflection in my mind: that if I were to separate from + Alan and his tell-tale clothes I should be safe against arrest, and might + go openly about my business. Nor was this all; for suppose I was arrested + when I was alone, there was little against me; but suppose I was taken in + company with the reputed murderer, my case would begin to be grave. For + generosity's sake I dare not speak my mind upon this head; but I thought + of it none the less. + </p> + <p> + I thought of it all the more, too, when the bouman brought out a green + purse with four guineas in gold, and the best part of another in small + change. True, it was more than I had. But then Alan, with less than five + guineas, had to get as far as France; I, with my less than two, not beyond + Queensferry; so that taking things in their proportion, Alan's society was + not only a peril to my life, but a burden on my purse. + </p> + <p> + But there was no thought of the sort in the honest head of my companion. + He believed he was serving, helping, and protecting me. And what could I + do but hold my peace, and chafe, and take my chance of it? + </p> + <p> + "It's little enough," said Alan, putting the purse in his pocket, "but + it'll do my business. And now, John Breck, if ye will hand me over my + button, this gentleman and me will be for taking the road." + </p> + <p> + But the bouman, after feeling about in a hairy purse that hung in front of + him in the Highland manner (though he wore otherwise the Lowland habit, + with sea-trousers), began to roll his eyes strangely, and at last said, + "Her nainsel will loss it," meaning he thought he had lost it. + </p> + <p> + "What!" cried Alan, "you will lose my button, that was my father's before + me? Now I will tell you what is in my mind, John Breck: it is in my mind + this is the worst day's work that ever ye did since ye was born." + </p> + <p> + And as Alan spoke, he set his hands on his knees and looked at the bouman + with a smiling mouth, and that dancing light in his eyes that meant + mischief to his enemies. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the bouman was honest enough; perhaps he had meant to cheat and + then, finding himself alone with two of us in a desert place, cast back to + honesty as being safer; at least, and all at once, he seemed to find that + button and handed it to Alan. + </p> + <p> + "Well, and it is a good thing for the honour of the Maccolls," said Alan, + and then to me, "Here is my button back again, and I thank you for parting + with it, which is of a piece with all your friendships to me." Then he + took the warmest parting of the bouman. "For," says he, "ye have done very + well by me, and set your neck at a venture, and I will always give you the + name of a good man." + </p> + <p> + Lastly, the bouman took himself off by one way; and Alan and I (getting + our chattels together) struck into another to resume our flight. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0230m.jpg" alt="0230m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0230.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <h3> + THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9230m.jpg" alt="9230m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9230.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + ome seven hours' incessant, hard travelling brought us early in the + morning to the end of a range of mountains. In front of us there lay a + piece of low, broken, desert land, which we must now cross. The sun was + not long up, and shone straight in our eyes; a little, thin mist went up + from the face of the moorland like a smoke; so that (as Alan said) there + might have been twenty squadron of dragoons there and we none the wiser. + </p> + <p> + We sat down, therefore, in a howe of the hill-side till the mist should + have risen, and made ourselves a dish of drammach, and held a council of + war. + </p> + <p> + "David," said Alan, "this is the kittle bit. Shall we lie here till it + comes night, or shall we risk it, and stave on ahead?" + </p> + <p> + "Well," said I, "I am tired indeed, but I could walk as far again, if that + was all." + </p> + <p> + "Ay, but it isnae," said Alan, "nor yet the half. This is how we stand: + Appin's fair death to us. To the south it's all Campbells, and no to be + thought of. To the north; well, there's no muckle to be gained by going + north; neither for you, that wants to get to Queensferry, nor yet for me, + that wants to get to France. Well, then, we'll can strike east." + </p> + <p> + "East be it!" says I, quite cheerily; but I was thinking in to myself: "O, + man, if you would only take one point of the compass and let me take any + other, it would be the best for both of us." + </p> + <p> + "Well, then, east, ye see, we have the muirs," said Alan. "Once there, + David, it's mere pitch-and-toss. Out on yon bald, naked, flat place, where + can a body turn to? Let the red-coats come over a hill, they can spy you + miles away; and the sorrow's in their horses' heels, they would soon ride + you down. It's no good place, David; and I'm free to say, it's worse by + daylight than by dark." + </p> + <p> + "Alan," said I, "hear my way of it. Appin's death for us; we have none too + much money, nor yet meal; the longer they seek, the nearer they may guess + where we are; it's all a risk; and I give my word to go ahead until we + drop." + </p> + <p> + Alan was delighted. "There are whiles," said he, "when ye are altogether + too canny and Whiggish to be company for a gentleman like me; but there + come other whiles when ye show yoursel' a mettle spark; and it's then, + David, that I love ye like a brother." + </p> + <p> + The mist rose and died away, and showed us that country lying as waste as + the sea; only the moorfowl and the pewees crying upon it, and far over to + the east, a herd of deer, moving like dots. Much of it was red with + heather; much of the rest broken up with bogs and hags and peaty pools; + some had been burnt black in a heath fire; and in another place there was + quite a forest of dead firs, standing like skeletons. A wearier-looking + desert man never saw; but at least it was clear of troops, which was our + point. + </p> + <p> + We went down accordingly into the waste, and began to make our toilsome + and devious travel towards the eastern verge. There were the tops of + mountains all round (you are to remember) from whence we might be spied at + any moment; so it behoved us to keep in the hollow parts of the moor, and + when these turned aside from our direction to move upon its naked face + with infinite care. Sometimes, for half an hour together, we must crawl + from one heather bush to another, as hunters do when they are hard upon + the deer. It was a clear day again, with a blazing sun; the water in the + brandy bottle was soon gone; and altogether, if I had guessed what it + would be to crawl half the time upon my belly and to walk much of the rest + stooping nearly to the knees, I should certainly have held back from such + a killing enterprise. + </p> + <p> + Toiling and resting and toiling again, we wore away the morning; and about + noon lay down in a thick bush of heather to sleep. Alan took the first + watch; and it seemed to me I had scarce closed my eyes before I was shaken + up to take the second. We had no clock to go by; and Alan stuck a sprig of + heath in the ground to serve instead; so that as soon as the shadow of the + bush should fall so far to the east, I might know to rouse him. But I was + by this time so weary that I could have slept twelve hours at a stretch; I + had the taste of sleep in my throat; my joints slept even when my mind was + waking; the hot smell of the heather, and the drone of the wild bees, were + like possets to me; and every now and again I would give a jump and find I + had been dozing. + </p> + <p> + The last time I woke I seemed to come back from farther away, and thought + the sun had taken a great start in the heavens. I looked at the sprig of + heath, and at that I could have cried aloud: for I saw I had betrayed my + trust. My head was nearly turned with fear and shame; and at what I saw, + when I looked out around me on the moor, my heart was like dying in my + body. For sure enough, a body of horse-soldiers had come down during my + sleep, and were drawing near to us from the south-east, spread out in the + shape of a fan and riding their horses to and fro in the deep parts of the + heather. + </p> + <p> + When I waked Alan, he glanced first at the soldiers, then at the mark and + the position of the sun, and knitted his brows with a sudden, quick look, + both ugly and anxious, which was all the reproach I had of him. + </p> + <p> + "What are we to do now?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "We'll have to play at being hares," said he. "Do ye see yon mountain?" + pointing to one on the north-eastern sky. + </p> + <p> + "Ay," said I. + </p> + <p> + "Well, then," says he, "let us strike for that. Its name is Ben Alder. it + is a wild, desert mountain full of hills and hollows, and if we can win to + it before the morn, we may do yet." + </p> + <p> + "But, Alan," cried I, "that will take us across the very coming of the + soldiers!" + </p> + <p> + "I ken that fine," said he; "but if we are driven back on Appin, we are + two dead men. So now, David man, be brisk!" + </p> + <p> + With that he began to run forward on his hands and knees with an + incredible quickness, as though it were his natural way of going. All the + time, too, he kept winding in and out in the lower parts of the moorland + where we were the best concealed. Some of these had been burned or at + least scathed with fire; and there rose in our faces (which were close to + the ground) a blinding, choking dust as fine as smoke. The water was long + out; and this posture of running on the hands and knees brings an + overmastering weakness and weariness, so that the joints ache and the + wrists faint under your weight. + </p> + <p> + Now and then, indeed, where was a big bush of heather, we lay awhile, and + panted, and putting aside the leaves, looked back at the dragoons. They + had not spied us, for they held straight on; a half-troop, I think, + covering about two miles of ground, and beating it mighty thoroughly as + they went. I had awakened just in time; a little later, and we must have + fled in front of them, instead of escaping on one side. Even as it was, + the least misfortune might betray us; and now and again, when a grouse + rose out of the heather with a clap of wings, we lay as still as the dead + and were afraid to breathe. + </p> + <p> + The aching and faintness of my body, the labouring of my heart, the + soreness of my hands, and the smarting of my throat and eyes in the + continual smoke of dust and ashes, had soon grown to be so unbearable that + I would gladly have given up. Nothing but the fear of Alan lent me enough + of a false kind of courage to continue. As for himself (and you are to + bear in mind that he was cumbered with a great-coat) he had first turned + crimson, but as time went on the redness began to be mingled with patches + of white; his breath cried and whistled as it came; and his voice, when he + whispered his observations in my ear during our halts, sounded like + nothing human. Yet he seemed in no way dashed in spirits, nor did he at + all abate in his activity, so that I was driven to marvel at the man's + endurance. + </p> + <p> + At length, in the first gloaming of the night, we heard a trumpet sound, + and looking back from among the heather, saw the troop beginning to + collect. A little after, they had built a fire and camped for the night, + about the middle of the waste. + </p> + <p> + At this I begged and besought that we might lie down and sleep. + </p> + <p> + "There shall be no sleep the night!" said Alan. "From now on, these weary + dragoons of yours will keep the crown of the muirland, and none will get + out of Appin but winged fowls. We got through in the nick of time, and + shall we jeopard what we've gained? Na, na, when the day comes, it shall + find you and me in a fast place on Ben Alder." + </p> + <p> + "Alan," I said, "it's not the want of will: it's the strength that I want. + If I could, I would; but as sure as I'm alive I cannot." + </p> + <p> + "Very well, then," said Alan. "I'll carry ye." + </p> + <p> + I looked to see if he were jesting; but no, the little man was in dead + earnest; and the sight of so much resolution shamed me. + </p> + <p> + "Lead away!" said I. "I'll follow." + </p> + <p> + He gave me one look as much as to say, "Well done, David!" and off he set + again at his top speed. + </p> + <p> + It grew cooler and even a little darker (but not much) with the coming of + the night. The sky was cloudless; it was still early in July, and pretty + far north; in the darkest part of that night, you would have needed pretty + good eyes to read, but for all that, I have often seen it darker in a + winter mid-day. Heavy dew fell and drenched the moor like rain; and this + refreshed me for a while. When we stopped to breathe, and I had time to + see all about me, the clearness and sweetness of the night, the shapes of + the hills like things asleep, and the fire dwindling away behind us, like + a bright spot in the midst of the moor, anger would come upon me in a clap + that I must still drag myself in agony and eat the dust like a worm. + </p> + <p> + By what I have read in books, I think few that have held a pen were ever + really wearied, or they would write of it more strongly. I had no care of + my life, neither past nor future, and I scarce remembered there was such a + lad as David Balfour. I did not think of myself, but just of each fresh + step which I was sure would be my last, with despair—and of Alan, + who was the cause of it, with hatred. Alan was in the right trade as a + soldier; this is the officer's part to make men continue to do things, + they know not wherefore, and when, if the choice was offered, they would + lie down where they were and be killed. And I dare say I would have made a + good enough private; for in these last hours it never occurred to me that + I had any choice but just to obey as long as I was able, and die obeying. + </p> + <p> + Day began to come in, after years, I thought; and by that time we were + past the greatest danger, and could walk upon our feet like men, instead + of crawling like brutes. But, dear heart have mercy! what a pair we must + have made, going double like old grandfathers, stumbling like babes, and + as white as dead folk. Never a word passed between us; each set his mouth + and kept his eyes in front of him, and lifted up his foot and set it down + again, like people lifting weights at a country play;* all the while, with + the moorfowl crying "peep!" in the heather, and the light coming slowly + clearer in the east. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Village fair. +</pre> + <p> + I say Alan did as I did. Not that ever I looked at him, for I had enough + ado to keep my feet; but because it is plain he must have been as stupid + with weariness as myself, and looked as little where we were going, or we + should not have walked into an ambush like blind men. + </p> + <p> + It fell in this way. We were going down a heathery brae, Alan leading and + I following a pace or two behind, like a fiddler and his wife; when upon a + sudden the heather gave a rustle, three or four ragged men leaped out, and + the next moment we were lying on our backs, each with a dirk at his + throat. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0237m.jpg" alt="0237m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0237.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + I don't think I cared; the pain of this rough handling was quite swallowed + up by the pains of which I was already full; and I was too glad to have + stopped walking to mind about a dirk. I lay looking up in the face of the + man that held me; and I mind his face was black with the sun, and his eyes + very light, but I was not afraid of him. I heard Alan and another + whispering in the Gaelic; and what they said was all one to me. + </p> + <p> + Then the dirks were put up, our weapons were taken away, and we were set + face to face, sitting in the heather. + </p> + <p> + "They are Cluny's men," said Alan. "We couldnae have fallen better. We're + just to bide here with these, which are his out-sentries, till they can + get word to the chief of my arrival." + </p> + <p> + Now Cluny Macpherson, the chief of the clan Vourich, had been one of the + leaders of the great rebellion six years before; there was a price on his + life; and I had supposed him long ago in France, with the rest of the + heads of that desperate party. Even tired as I was, the surprise of what I + heard half wakened me. + </p> + <p> + "What," I cried, "is Cluny still here?" + </p> + <p> + "Ay, is he so!" said Alan. "Still in his own country and kept by his own + clan. King George can do no more." + </p> + <p> + I think I would have asked farther, but Alan gave me the put-off. "I am + rather wearied," he said, "and I would like fine to get a sleep." And + without more words, he rolled on his face in a deep heather bush, and + seemed to sleep at once. + </p> + <p> + There was no such thing possible for me. You have heard grasshoppers + whirring in the grass in the summer time? Well, I had no sooner closed my + eyes, than my body, and above all my head, belly, and wrists, seemed to be + filled with whirring grasshoppers; and I must open my eyes again at once, + and tumble and toss, and sit up and lie down; and look at the sky which + dazzled me, or at Cluny's wild and dirty sentries, peering out over the + top of the brae and chattering to each other in the Gaelic. + </p> + <p> + That was all the rest I had, until the messenger returned; when, as it + appeared that Cluny would be glad to receive us, we must get once more + upon our feet and set forward. Alan was in excellent good spirits, much + refreshed by his sleep, very hungry, and looking pleasantly forward to a + dram and a dish of hot collops, of which, it seems, the messenger had + brought him word. For my part, it made me sick to hear of eating. I had + been dead-heavy before, and now I felt a kind of dreadful lightness, which + would not suffer me to walk. I drifted like a gossamer; the ground seemed + to me a cloud, the hills a feather-weight, the air to have a current, like + a running burn, which carried me to and fro. With all that, a sort of + horror of despair sat on my mind, so that I could have wept at my own + helplessness. + </p> + <p> + I saw Alan knitting his brows at me, and supposed it was in anger; and + that gave me a pang of light-headed fear, like what a child may have. I + remember, too, that I was smiling, and could not stop smiling, hard as I + tried; for I thought it was out of place at such a time. But my good + companion had nothing in his mind but kindness; and the next moment, two + of the gillies had me by the arms, and I began to be carried forward with + great swiftness (or so it appeared to me, although I dare say it was + slowly enough in truth), through a labyrinth of dreary glens and hollows + and into the heart of that dismal mountain of Ben Alder. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0241m.jpg" alt="0241m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0241.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <h3> + CLUNY'S CAGE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9241m.jpg" alt="9241m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9241.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + e came at last to the foot of an exceeding steep wood, which scrambled up + a craggy hillside, and was crowned by a naked precipice. + </p> + <p> + "It's here," said one of the guides, and we struck up hill. + </p> + <p> + The trees clung upon the slope, like sailors on the shrouds of a ship, and + their trunks were like the rounds of a ladder, by which we mounted. + </p> + <p> + Quite at the top, and just before the rocky face of the cliff sprang above + the foliage, we found that strange house which was known in the country as + "Cluny's Cage." The trunks of several trees had been wattled across, the + intervals strengthened with stakes, and the ground behind this barricade + levelled up with earth to make the floor. A tree, which grew out from the + hillside, was the living centre-beam of the roof. The walls were of wattle + and covered with moss. The whole house had something of an egg shape; and + it half hung, half stood in that steep, hillside thicket, like a wasp's + nest in a green hawthorn. + </p> + <p> + Within, it was large enough to shelter five or six persons with some + comfort. A projection of the cliff had been cunningly employed to be the + fireplace; and the smoke rising against the face of the rock, and being + not dissimilar in colour, readily escaped notice from below. + </p> + <p> + This was but one of Cluny's hiding-places; he had caves, besides, and + underground chambers in several parts of his country; and following the + reports of his scouts, he moved from one to another as the soldiers drew + near or moved away. By this manner of living, and thanks to the affection + of his clan, he had not only stayed all this time in safety, while so many + others had fled or been taken and slain: but stayed four or five years + longer, and only went to France at last by the express command of his + master. There he soon died; and it is strange to reflect that he may have + regretted his Cage upon Ben Alder. + </p> + <p> + When we came to the door he was seated by his rock chimney, watching a + gillie about some cookery. He was mighty plainly habited, with a knitted + nightcap drawn over his ears, and smoked a foul cutty pipe. For all that + he had the manners of a king, and it was quite a sight to see him rise out + of his place to welcome us. + </p> + <p> + "Well, Mr. Stewart, come awa', sir!" said he, "and bring in your friend + that as yet I dinna ken the name of." + </p> + <p> + "And how is yourself, Cluny?" said Alan. "I hope ye do brawly, sir. And I + am proud to see ye, and to present to ye my friend the Laird of Shaws, Mr. + David Balfour." + </p> + <p> + Alan never referred to my estate without a touch of a sneer, when we were + alone; but with strangers, he rang the words out like a herald. + </p> + <p> + "Step in by, the both of ye, gentlemen," says Cluny. "I make ye welcome to + my house, which is a queer, rude place for certain, but one where I have + entertained a royal personage, Mr. Stewart—ye doubtless ken the + personage I have in my eye. We'll take a dram for luck, and as soon as + this handless man of mine has the collops ready, we'll dine and take a + hand at the cartes as gentlemen should. My life is a bit driegh," says he, + pouring out the brandy; "I see little company, and sit and twirl my + thumbs, and mind upon a great day that is gone by, and weary for another + great day that we all hope will be upon the road. And so here's a toast to + ye: The Restoration!" + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0243m.jpg" alt="0243m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0243.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Thereupon we all touched glasses and drank. I am sure I wished no ill to + King George; and if he had been there himself in proper person, it's like + he would have done as I did. No sooner had I taken out the drain than I + felt hugely better, and could look on and listen, still a little mistily + perhaps, but no longer with the same groundless horror and distress of + mind. + </p> + <p> + It was certainly a strange place, and we had a strange host. In his long + hiding, Cluny had grown to have all manner of precise habits, like those + of an old maid. He had a particular place, where no one else must sit; the + Cage was arranged in a particular way, which none must disturb; cookery + was one of his chief fancies, and even while he was greeting us in, he + kept an eye to the collops. + </p> + <p> + It appears, he sometimes visited or received visits from his wife and one + or two of his nearest friends, under the cover of night; but for the more + part lived quite alone, and communicated only with his sentinels and the + gillies that waited on him in the Cage. The first thing in the morning, + one of them, who was a barber, came and shaved him, and gave him the news + of the country, of which he was immoderately greedy. There was no end to + his questions; he put them as earnestly as a child; and at some of the + answers, laughed out of all bounds of reason, and would break out again + laughing at the mere memory, hours after the barber was gone. + </p> + <p> + To be sure, there might have been a purpose in his questions; for though + he was thus sequestered, and like the other landed gentlemen of Scotland, + stripped by the late Act of Parliament of legal powers, he still exercised + a patriarchal justice in his clan. Disputes were brought to him in his + hiding-hole to be decided; and the men of his country, who would have + snapped their fingers at the Court of Session, laid aside revenge and paid + down money at the bare word of this forfeited and hunted outlaw. When he + was angered, which was often enough, he gave his commands and breathed + threats of punishment like any king; and his gillies trembled and crouched + away from him like children before a hasty father. With each of them, as + he entered, he ceremoniously shook hands, both parties touching their + bonnets at the same time in a military manner. Altogether, I had a fair + chance to see some of the inner workings of a Highland clan; and this with + a proscribed, fugitive chief; his country conquered; the troops riding + upon all sides in quest of him, sometimes within a mile of where he lay; + and when the least of the ragged fellows whom he rated and threatened, + could have made a fortune by betraying him. + </p> + <p> + On that first day, as soon as the collops were ready, Cluny gave them with + his own hand a squeeze of a lemon (for he was well supplied with luxuries) + and bade us draw in to our meal. + </p> + <p> + "They," said he, meaning the collops, "are such as I gave his Royal + Highness in this very house; bating the lemon juice, for at that time we + were glad to get the meat and never fashed for kitchen.* Indeed, there + were mair dragoons than lemons in my country in the year forty-six." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Condiment. +</pre> + <p> + I do not know if the collops were truly very good, but my heart rose + against the sight of them, and I could eat but little. All the while Cluny + entertained us with stories of Prince Charlie's stay in the Cage, giving + us the very words of the speakers, and rising from his place to show us + where they stood. By these, I gathered the Prince was a gracious, spirited + boy, like the son of a race of polite kings, but not so wise as Solomon. I + gathered, too, that while he was in the Cage, he was often drunk; so the + fault that has since, by all accounts, made such a wreck of him, had even + then begun to show itself. + </p> + <p> + We were no sooner done eating than Cluny brought out an old, thumbed, + greasy pack of cards, such as you may find in a mean inn; and his eyes + brightened in his face as he proposed that we should fall to playing. + </p> + <p> + Now this was one of the things I had been brought up to eschew like + disgrace; it being held by my father neither the part of a Christian nor + yet of a gentleman to set his own livelihood and fish for that of others, + on the cast of painted pasteboard. To be sure, I might have pleaded my + fatigue, which was excuse enough; but I thought it behoved that I should + bear a testimony. I must have got very red in the face, but I spoke + steadily, and told them I had no call to be a judge of others, but for my + own part, it was a matter in which I had no clearness. + </p> + <p> + Cluny stopped mingling the cards. "What in deil's name is this?" says he. + "What kind of Whiggish, canting talk is this, for the house of Cluny + Macpherson?" + </p> + <p> + "I will put my hand in the fire for Mr. Balfour," says Alan. "He is an + honest and a mettle gentleman, and I would have ye bear in mind who says + it. I bear a king's name," says he, cocking his hat; "and I and any that I + call friend are company for the best. But the gentleman is tired, and + should sleep; if he has no mind to the cartes, it will never hinder you + and me. And I'm fit and willing, sir, to play ye any game that ye can + name." + </p> + <p> + "Sir," says Cluny, "in this poor house of mine I would have you to ken + that any gentleman may follow his pleasure. If your friend would like to + stand on his head, he is welcome. And if either he, or you, or any other + man, is not preceesely satisfied, I will be proud to step outside with + him." + </p> + <p> + I had no will that these two friends should cut their throats for my sake. + </p> + <p> + "Sir," said I, "I am very wearied, as Alan says; and what's more, as you + are a man that likely has sons of your own, I may tell you it was a + promise to my father." + </p> + <p> + "Say nae mair, say nae mair," said Cluny, and pointed me to a bed of + heather in a corner of the Cage. For all that he was displeased enough, + looked at me askance, and grumbled when he looked. And indeed it must be + owned that both my scruples and the words in which I declared them, + smacked somewhat of the Covenanter, and were little in their place among + wild Highland Jacobites. + </p> + <p> + What with the brandy and the venison, a strange heaviness had come over + me; and I had scarce lain down upon the bed before I fell into a kind of + trance, in which I continued almost the whole time of our stay in the + Cage. Sometimes I was broad awake and understood what passed; sometimes I + only heard voices, or men snoring, like the voice of a silly river; and + the plaids upon the wall dwindled down and swelled out again, like + firelight shadows on the roof. I must sometimes have spoken or cried out, + for I remember I was now and then amazed at being answered; yet I was + conscious of no particular nightmare, only of a general, black, abiding + horror—a horror of the place I was in, and the bed I lay in, and the + plaids on the wall, and the voices, and the fire, and myself. + </p> + <p> + The barber-gillie, who was a doctor too, was called in to prescribe for + me; but as he spoke in the Gaelic, I understood not a word of his opinion, + and was too sick even to ask for a translation. I knew well enough I was + ill, and that was all I cared about. + </p> + <p> + I paid little heed while I lay in this poor pass. But Alan and Cluny were + most of the time at the cards, and I am clear that Alan must have begun by + winning; for I remember sitting up, and seeing them hard at it, and a + great glittering pile of as much as sixty or a hundred guineas on the + table. It looked strange enough, to see all this wealth in a nest upon a + cliff-side, wattled about growing trees. And even then, I thought it + seemed deep water for Alan to be riding, who had no better battle-horse + than a green purse and a matter of five pounds. + </p> + <p> + The luck, it seems, changed on the second day. About noon I was wakened as + usual for dinner, and as usual refused to eat, and was given a dram with + some bitter infusion which the barber had prescribed. The sun was shining + in at the open door of the Cage, and this dazzled and offended me. Cluny + sat at the table, biting the pack of cards. Alan had stooped over the bed, + and had his face close to my eyes; to which, troubled as they were with + the fever, it seemed of the most shocking bigness. + </p> + <p> + He asked me for a loan of my money. + </p> + <p> + "What for?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "O, just for a loan," said he. + </p> + <p> + "But why?" I repeated. "I don't see." + </p> + <p> + "Hut, David!" said Alan, "ye wouldnae grudge me a loan?" + </p> + <p> + I would, though, if I had had my senses! But all I thought of then was to + get his face away, and I handed him my money. + </p> + <p> + On the morning of the third day, when we had been forty-eight hours in the + Cage, I awoke with a great relief of spirits, very weak and weary indeed, + but seeing things of the right size and with their honest, everyday + appearance. I had a mind to eat, moreover, rose from bed of my own + movement, and as soon as we had breakfasted, stepped to the entry of the + Cage and sat down outside in the top of the wood. It was a grey day with a + cool, mild air: and I sat in a dream all morning, only disturbed by the + passing by of Cluny's scouts and servants coming with provisions and + reports; for as the coast was at that time clear, you might almost say he + held court openly. + </p> + <p> + When I returned, he and Alan had laid the cards aside, and were + questioning a gillie; and the chief turned about and spoke to me in the + Gaelic. + </p> + <p> + "I have no Gaelic, sir," said I. + </p> + <p> + Now since the card question, everything I said or did had the power of + annoying Cluny. "Your name has more sense than yourself, then," said he + angrily, "for it's good Gaelic. But the point is this. My scout reports + all clear in the south, and the question is, have ye the strength to go?" + </p> + <p> + I saw cards on the table, but no gold; only a heap of little written + papers, and these all on Cluny's side. Alan, besides, had an odd look, + like a man not very well content; and I began to have a strong misgiving. + </p> + <p> + "I do not know if I am as well as I should be," said I, looking at Alan; + "but the little money we have has a long way to carry us." + </p> + <p> + Alan took his under-lip into his mouth, and looked upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + "David," says he at last, "I've lost it; there's the naked truth." + </p> + <p> + "My money too?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "Your money too," says Alan, with a groan. "Ye shouldnae have given it me. + I'm daft when I get to the cartes." + </p> + <p> + "Hoot-toot! hoot-toot!" said Cluny. "It was all daffing; it's all + nonsense. Of course you'll have your money back again, and the double of + it, if ye'll make so free with me. It would be a singular thing for me to + keep it. It's not to be supposed that I would be any hindrance to + gentlemen in your situation; that would be a singular thing!" cries he, + and began to pull gold out of his pocket with a mighty red face. + </p> + <p> + Alan said nothing, only looked on the ground. + </p> + <p> + "Will you step to the door with me, sir?" said I. + </p> + <p> + Cluny said he would be very glad, and followed me readily enough, but he + looked flustered and put out. + </p> + <p> + "And now, sir," says I, "I must first acknowledge your generosity." + </p> + <p> + "Nonsensical nonsense!" cries Cluny. "Where's the generosity? This is just + a most unfortunate affair; but what would ye have me do—boxed up in + this bee-skep of a cage of mine—but just set my friends to the + cartes, when I can get them? And if they lose, of course, it's not to be + supposed——" And here he came to a pause. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," said I, "if they lose, you give them back their money; and if they + win, they carry away yours in their pouches! I have said before that I + grant your generosity; but to me, sir, it's a very painful thing to be + placed in this position." + </p> + <p> + There was a little silence, in which Cluny seemed always as if he was + about to speak, but said nothing. All the time he grew redder and redder + in the face. + </p> + <p> + "I am a young man," said I, "and I ask your advice. Advise me as you would + your son. My friend fairly lost his money, after having fairly gained a + far greater sum of yours; can I accept it back again? Would that be the + right part for me to play? Whatever I do, you can see for yourself it must + be hard upon a man of any pride." + </p> + <p> + "It's rather hard on me, too, Mr. Balfour," said Cluny, "and ye give me + very much the look of a man that has entrapped poor people to their hurt. + I wouldnae have my friends come to any house of mine to accept affronts; + no," he cried, with a sudden heat of anger, "nor yet to give them!" + </p> + <p> + "And so you see, sir," said I, "there is something to be said upon my + side; and this gambling is a very poor employ for gentlefolks. But I am + still waiting your opinion." + </p> + <p> + I am sure if ever Cluny hated any man it was David Balfour. He looked me + all over with a warlike eye, and I saw the challenge at his lips. But + either my youth disarmed him, or perhaps his own sense of justice. + Certainly it was a mortifying matter for all concerned, and not least + Cluny; the more credit that he took it as he did. + </p> + <p> + "Mr. Balfour," said he, "I think you are too nice and covenanting, but for + all that you have the spirit of a very pretty gentleman. Upon my honest + word, ye may take this money—it's what I would tell my son—and + here's my hand along with it!" + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0252m.jpg" alt="0252m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0252.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> + <h3> + THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE QUARREL + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9252m.jpg" alt="9252m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9252.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + lan and I were put across Loch Errocht under cloud of night, and went + down its eastern shore to another hiding-place near the head of Loch + Rannoch, whither we were led by one of the gillies from the Cage. This + fellow carried all our luggage and Alan's great-coat in the bargain, + trotting along under the burthen, far less than the half of which used to + weigh me to the ground, like a stout hill pony with a feather; yet he was + a man that, in plain contest, I could have broken on my knee. + </p> + <p> + Doubtless it was a great relief to walk disencumbered; and perhaps without + that relief, and the consequent sense of liberty and lightness, I could + not have walked at all. I was but new risen from a bed of sickness; and + there was nothing in the state of our affairs to hearten me for much + exertion; travelling, as we did, over the most dismal deserts in Scotland, + under a cloudy heaven, and with divided hearts among the travellers. + </p> + <p> + For long, we said nothing; marching alongside or one behind the other, + each with a set countenance: I, angry and proud, and drawing what strength + I had from these two violent and sinful feelings; Alan angry and ashamed, + ashamed that he had lost my money, angry that I should take it so ill. + </p> + <p> + The thought of a separation ran always the stronger in my mind; and the + more I approved of it, the more ashamed I grew of my approval. It would be + a fine, handsome, generous thing, indeed, for Alan to turn round and say + to me: "Go, I am in the most danger, and my company only increases yours." + But for me to turn to the friend who certainly loved me, and say to him: + "You are in great danger, I am in but little; your friendship is a burden; + go, take your risks and bear your hardships alone——" no, that + was impossible; and even to think of it privily to myself, made my cheeks + to burn. + </p> + <p> + And yet Alan had behaved like a child, and (what is worse) a treacherous + child. Wheedling my money from me while I lay half-conscious was scarce + better than theft; and yet here he was trudging by my side, without a + penny to his name, and by what I could see, quite blithe to sponge upon + the money he had driven me to beg. True, I was ready to share it with him; + but it made me rage to see him count upon my readiness. + </p> + <p> + These were the two things uppermost in my mind; and I could open my mouth + upon neither without black ungenerosity. So I did the next worst, and said + nothing, nor so much as looked once at my companion, save with the tail of + my eye. + </p> + <p> + At last, upon the other side of Loch Errocht, going over a smooth, rushy + place, where the walking was easy, he could bear it no longer, and came + close to me. + </p> + <p> + "David," says he, "this is no way for two friends to take a small + accident. I have to say that I'm sorry; and so that's said. And now if you + have anything, ye'd better say it." + </p> + <p> + "O," says I, "I have nothing." + </p> + <p> + He seemed disconcerted; at which I was meanly pleased. + </p> + <p> + "No," said he, with rather a trembling voice, "but when I say I was to + blame?" + </p> + <p> + "Why, of course, ye were to blame," said I, coolly; "and you will bear me + out that I have never reproached you." + </p> + <p> + "Never," says he; "but ye ken very well that ye've done worse. Are we to + part? Ye said so once before. Are ye to say it again? There's hills and + heather enough between here and the two seas, David; and I will own I'm no + very keen to stay where I'm no wanted." + </p> + <p> + This pierced me like a sword, and seemed to lay bare my private + disloyalty. + </p> + <p> + "Alan Breck!" I cried; and then: "Do you think I am one to turn my back on + you in your chief need? You dursn't say it to my face. My whole conduct's + there to give the lie to it. It's true, I fell asleep upon the muir; but + that was from weariness, and you do wrong to cast it up to me——" + </p> + <p> + "Which is what I never did," said Alan. + </p> + <p> + "But aside from that," I continued, "what have I done that you should even + me to dogs by such a supposition? I never yet failed a friend, and it's + not likely I'll begin with you. There are things between us that I can + never forget, even if you can." + </p> + <p> + "I will only say this to ye, David," said Alan, very quietly, "that I have + long been owing ye my life, and now I owe ye money. Ye should try to make + that burden light for me." + </p> + <p> + This ought to have touched me, and in a manner it did, but the wrong + manner. I felt I was behaving badly; and was now not only angry with Alan, + but angry with myself in the bargain; and it made me the more cruel. + </p> + <p> + "You asked me to speak," said I. "Well, then, I will. You own yourself + that you have done me a disservice; I have had to swallow an affront: I + have never reproached you, I never named the thing till you did. And now + you blame me," cried I, "because I cannae laugh and sing as if I was glad + to be affronted. The next thing will be that I'm to go down upon my knees + and thank you for it! Ye should think more of others, Alan Breck. If ye + thought more of others, ye would perhaps speak less about yourself; and + when a friend that likes you very well has passed over an offence without + a word, you would be blithe to let it lie, instead of making it a stick to + break his back with. By your own way of it, it was you that was to blame; + then it shouldnae be you to seek the quarrel." + </p> + <p> + "Aweel," said Alan, "say nae mair." + </p> + <p> + And we fell back into our former silence; and came to our journey's end, + and supped, and lay down to sleep, without another word. + </p> + <p> + The gillie put us across Loch Rannoch in the dusk of the next day, and + gave us his opinion as to our best route. This was to get us up at once + into the tops of the mountains: to go round by a circuit, turning the + heads of Glen Lyon, Glen Lochay, and Glen Dochart, and come down upon the + lowlands by Kippen and the upper waters of the Forth. Alan was little + pleased with a route which led us through the country of his blood-foes, + the Glenorchy Campbells. He objected that by turning to the east, we + should come almost at once among the Athole Stewarts, a race of his own + name and lineage, although following a different chief, and come besides + by a far easier and swifter way to the place whither we were bound. But + the gillie, who was indeed the chief man of Cluny's scouts, had good + reasons to give him on all hands, naming the force of troops in every + district, and alleging finally (as well as I could understand) that we + should nowhere be so little troubled as in a country of the Campbells. + </p> + <p> + Alan gave way at last, but with only half a heart. "It's one of the + dowiest countries in Scotland," said he. "There's naething there that I + ken, but heath, and crows, and Campbells. But I see that ye're a man of + some penetration; and be it as ye please!" + </p> + <p> + We set forth accordingly by this itinerary; and for the best part of three + nights travelled on eerie mountains and among the well-heads of wild + rivers; often buried in mist, almost continually blown and rained upon, + and not once cheered by any glimpse of sunshine. By day, we lay and slept + in the drenching heather; by night, incessantly clambered upon break-neck + hills and among rude crags. We often wandered; we were often so involved + in fog, that we must lie quiet till it lightened. A fire was never to be + thought of. Our only food was drammach and a portion of cold meat that we + had carried from the Cage; and as for drink, Heaven knows we had no want + of water. + </p> + <p> + This was a dreadful time, rendered the more dreadful by the gloom of the + weather and the country. I was never warm; my teeth chattered in my head; + I was troubled with a very sore throat, such as I had on the isle; I had a + painful stitch in my side, which never left me; and when I slept in my wet + bed, with the rain beating above and the mud oozing below me, it was to + live over again in fancy the worst part of my adventures—to see the + tower of Shaws lit by lightning, Ransome carried below on the men's backs, + Shuan dying on the round-house floor, or Colin Campbell grasping at the + bosom of his coat. From such broken slumbers, I would be aroused in the + gloaming, to sit up in the same puddle where I had slept, and sup cold + drammach; the rain driving sharp in my face or running down my back in icy + trickles; the mist enfolding us like as in a gloomy chamber—or, + perhaps, if the wind blew, falling suddenly apart and showing us the gulf + of some dark valley where the streams were crying aloud. + </p> + <p> + The sound of an infinite number of rivers came up from all round. In this + steady rain the springs of the mountain were broken up; every glen gushed + water like a cistern; every stream was in high spate, and had filled and + overflowed its channel. During our night tramps, it was solemn to hear the + voice of them below in the valleys, now booming like thunder, now with an + angry cry. I could well understand the story of the Water Kelpie, that + demon of the streams, who is fabled to keep wailing and roaring at the + ford until the coming of the doomed traveller. Alan I saw believed it, or + half believed it; and when the cry of the river rose more than usually + sharp, I was little surprised (though, of course, I would still be + shocked) to see him cross himself in the manner of the Catholics. + </p> + <p> + During all these horrid wanderings we had no familiarity, scarcely even + that of speech. The truth is that I was sickening for my grave, which is + my best excuse. But besides that I was of an unforgiving disposition from + my birth, slow to take offence, slower to forget it, and now incensed both + against my companion and myself. For the best part of two days he was + unweariedly kind; silent, indeed, but always ready to help, and always + hoping (as I could very well see) that my displeasure would blow by. For + the same length of time I stayed in myself, nursing my anger, roughly + refusing his services, and passing him over with my eyes as if he had been + a bush or a stone. + </p> + <p> + The second night, or rather the peep of the third day, found us upon a + very open hill, so that we could not follow our usual plan and lie down + immediately to eat and sleep. Before we had reached a place of shelter, + the grey had come pretty clear, for though it still rained, the clouds ran + higher; and Alan, looking in my face, showed some marks of concern. + </p> + <p> + "Ye had better let me take your pack," said he, for perhaps the ninth time + since we had parted from the scout beside Loch Rannoch. + </p> + <p> + "I do very well, I thank you," said I, as cold as ice. + </p> + <p> + Alan flushed darkly. "I'll not offer it again," he said. "I'm not a + patient man, David." + </p> + <p> + "I never said you were," said I, which was exactly the rude, silly speech + of a boy of ten. + </p> + <p> + Alan made no answer at the time, but his conduct answered for him. + Henceforth, it is to be thought, he quite forgave himself for the affair + at Cluny's; cocked his hat again, walked jauntily, whistled airs, and + looked at me upon one side with a provoking smile. + </p> + <p> + The third night we were to pass through the western end of the country of + Balquhidder. It came clear and cold, with a touch in the air like frost, + and a northerly wind that blew the clouds away and made the stars bright. + The streams were full, of course, and still made a great noise among the + hills; but I observed that Alan thought no more upon the Kelpie, and was + in high good spirits. As for me, the change of weather came too late; I + had lain in the mire so long that (as the Bible has it) my very clothes + "abhorred me." I was dead weary, deadly sick and full of pains and + shiverings; the chill of the wind went through me, and the sound of it + confused my ears. In this poor state I had to bear from my companion + something in the nature of a persecution. He spoke a good deal, and never + without a taunt. "Whig" was the best name he had to give me. "Here," he + would say, "here's a dub for ye to jump, my Whiggie! I ken you're a fine + jumper!" And so on; all the time with a gibing voice and face. + </p> + <p> + I knew it was my own doing, and no one else's; but I was too miserable to + repent. I felt I could drag myself but little farther; pretty soon, I must + lie down and die on these wet mountains like a sheep or a fox, and my + bones must whiten there like the bones of a beast. My head was light + perhaps; but I began to love the prospect, I began to glory in the thought + of such a death, alone in the desert, with the wild eagles besieging my + last moments. Alan would repent then, I thought; he would remember, when I + was dead, how much he owed me, and the remembrance would be torture. So I + went like a sick, silly, and bad-hearted schoolboy, feeding my anger + against a fellow-man, when I would have been better on my knees, crying on + God for mercy. And at each of Alan's taunts, I hugged myself. "Ah!" thinks + I to myself, "I have a better taunt in readiness; when I lie down and die, + you will feel it like a buffet in your face; ah, what a revenge! ah, how + you will regret your ingratitude and cruelty!" + </p> + <p> + All the while, I was growing worse and worse. Once I had fallen, my leg + simply doubling under me, and this had struck Alan for the moment; but I + was afoot so briskly, and set off again with such a natural manner, that + he soon forgot the incident. Flushes of heat went over me, and then spasms + of shuddering. The stitch in my side was hardly bearable. At last I began + to feel that I could trail myself no farther: and with that, there came on + me all at once the wish to have it out with Alan, let my anger blaze, and + be done with my life in a more sudden manner. He had just called me + "Whig." I stopped. + </p> + <p> + "Mr. Stewart," said I, in a voice that quivered like a fiddle-string, "you + are older than I am, and should know your manners. Do you think it either + very wise or very witty to cast my politics in my teeth? I thought, where + folk differed, it was the part of gentlemen to differ civilly; and if I + did not, I may tell you I could find a better taunt than some of yours." + </p> + <p> + Alan had stopped opposite to me, his hat cocked, his hands in his breeches + pockets, his head a little on one side. He listened, smiling evilly, as I + could see by the starlight; and when I had done he began to whistle a + Jacobite air. It was the air made in mockery of General Cope's defeat at + Preston Pans: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin' yet? + And are your drums a-beatin' yet?" +</pre> + <p> + And it came in my mind that Alan, on the day of that battle, had been + engaged upon the royal side. + </p> + <p> + "Why do ye take that air, Mr. Stewart?" said I. "Is that to remind me you + have been beaten on both sides?" + </p> + <p> + The air stopped on Alan's lips. "David!" said he. + </p> + <p> + "But it's time these manners ceased," I continued; "and I mean you shall + henceforth speak civilly of my King and my good friends the Campbells." + </p> + <p> + "I am a Stewart—" began Alan. + </p> + <p> + "O!" says I, "I ken ye bear a king's name. But you are to remember, since + I have been in the Highlands, I have seen a good many of those that bear + it; and the best I can say of them is this, that they would be none the + worse of washing." + </p> + <p> + "Do you know that you insult me?" said Alan, very low. + </p> + <p> + "I am sorry for that," said I, "for I am not done; and if you distaste the + sermon, I doubt the pirliecue* will please you as little. You have been + chased in the field by the grown men of my party; it seems a poor kind of + pleasure to out-face a boy. Both the Campbells and the Whigs have beaten + you; you have run before them like a hare. It behoves you to speak of them + as of your betters." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * A second sermon. +</pre> + <p> + Alan stood quite still, the tails of his great-coat clapping behind him in + the wind. + </p> + <p> + "This is a pity," he said at last. "There are things said that cannot be + passed over." + </p> + <p> + "I never asked you to," said I. "I am as ready as yourself." + </p> + <p> + "Ready?" said he. + </p> + <p> + "Ready," I repeated. "I am no blower and boaster like some that I could + name. Come on!" And drawing my sword, I fell on guard as Alan himself had + taught me. + </p> + <p> + "David!" he cried. "Are ye daft? I cannae draw upon ye, David. It's fair + murder." + </p> + <p> + "That was your look-out when you insulted me," said I. + </p> + <p> + "It's the truth!" cried Alan, and he stood for a moment, wringing his + mouth in his hand like a man in sore perplexity. "It's the bare truth," he + said, and drew his sword. But before I could touch his blade with mine, he + had thrown it from him and fallen to the ground. "Na, na," he kept saying, + "na, na—I cannae, I cannae." + </p> + <p> + At this the last of my anger oozed all out of me; and I found myself only + sick, and sorry, and blank, and wondering at myself. I would have given + the world to take back what I had said; but a word once spoken, who can + recapture it? I minded me of all Alan's kindness and courage in the past, + how he had helped and cheered and borne with me in our evil days; and then + recalled my own insults, and saw that I had lost for ever that doughty + friend. At the same time, the sickness that hung upon me seemed to + redouble, and the pang in my side was like a sword for sharpness. I + thought I must have swooned where I stood. + </p> + <p> + This it was that gave me a thought. No apology could blot out what I had + said; it was needless to think of one, none could cover the offence; but + where an apology was vain, a mere cry for help might bring Alan back to my + side. I put my pride away from me. "Alan!" I said; "if ye cannae help me, + I must just die here." + </p> + <p> + He started up sitting, and looked at me. + </p> + <p> + "It's true," said I. "I'm by with it. O, let me get into the bield of a + house—I'll can die there easier." I had no need to pretend; whether + I chose or not, I spoke in a weeping voice that would have melted a heart + of stone. + </p> + <p> + "Can ye walk?" asked Alan. + </p> + <p> + "No," said I, "not without help. This last hour my legs have been fainting + under me; I've a stitch in my side like a red-hot iron; I cannae breathe + right. If I die, ye'll can forgive me, Alan? In my heart, I liked ye fine—even + when I was the angriest." + </p> + <p> + "Wheesht, wheesht!" cried Alan. "Dinna say that! David man, ye ken—" + He shut his mouth upon a sob. "Let me get my arm about ye," he continued; + "that's the way! Now lean upon me hard. Gude kens where there's a house! + We're in Balwhidder, too; there should be no want of houses, no, nor + friends' houses here. Do ye gang easier so, Davie?" + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0261m.jpg" alt="0261m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0261.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0263m.jpg" alt="0263m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0263.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + "Ay," said I, "I can be doing this way;" and I pressed his arm with my + hand. + </p> + <p> + Again he came near sobbing. "Davie," said he, "I'm no a right man at all; + I have neither sense nor kindness; I could nae remember ye were just a + bairn, I couldnae see ye were dying on your feet; Davie, ye'll have to try + and forgive me." + </p> + <p> + "O man, let's say no more about it!" said I. "We're neither one of us to + mend the other—that's the truth! We must just bear and forbear, man + Alan. O, but my stitch is sore! Is there nae house?" + </p> + <p> + "I'll find a house to ye, David," he said, stoutly. "We'll follow down the + burn, where there's bound to be houses. My poor man, will ye no be better + on my back?" + </p> + <p> + "O, Alan," says I, "and me a good twelve inches taller?" + </p> + <p> + "Ye're no such a thing," cried Alan, with a start. "There may be a + trifling matter of an inch or two; I'm no saying I'm just exactly what ye + would call a tall man, whatever; and I dare say," he added, his voice + tailing off in a laughable manner, "now when I come to think of it, I dare + say ye'll be just about right. Ay, it'll be a foot, or near hand; or may + be even mair!" + </p> + <p> + It was sweet and laughable to hear Alan eat his words up in the fear of + some fresh quarrel. I could have laughed, had not my stitch caught me so + hard; but if I had laughed, I think I must have wept too. + </p> + <p> + "Alan," cried I, "what makes ye so good to me? What makes ye care for such + a thankless fellow?" + </p> + <p> + "'Deed, and I don't know" said Alan. "For just precisely what I thought I + liked about ye, was that ye never quarrelled:—and now I like ye + better!" + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0267m.jpg" alt="0267m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0267.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV + </h2> + <h3> + IN BALQUHIDDER + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9267m.jpg" alt="9267m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9267.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + t the door of the first house we came to, Alan knocked, which was of no + very safe enterprise in such a part of the Highlands as the Braes of + Balquhidder. No great clan held rule there; it was filled and disputed by + small septs, and broken remnants, and what they call "chiefless folk," + driven into the wild country about the springs of Forth and Teith by the + advance of the Campbells. Here were Stewarts and Maclarens, which came to + the same thing, for the Maclarens followed Alan's chief in war, and made + but one clan with Appin. Here, too, were many of that old, proscribed, + nameless, red-handed clan of the Macgregors. They had always been + ill-considered, and now worse than ever, having credit with no side or + party in the whole country of Scotland. Their chief, Macgregor of + Macgregor, was in exile; the more immediate leader of that part of them + about Balquhidder, James More, Rob Roy's eldest son, lay waiting his trial + in Edinburgh Castle; they were in ill-blood with Highlander and Lowlander, + with the Grahames, the Maclarens, and the Stewarts; and Alan, who took up + the quarrel of any friend, however distant, was extremely wishful to avoid + them. + </p> + <p> + Chance served us very well; for it was a household of Maclarens that we + found, where Alan was not only welcome for his name's sake but known by + reputation. Here then I was got to bed without delay, and a doctor + fetched, who found me in a sorry plight. But whether because he was a very + good doctor, or I a very young, strong man, I lay bedridden for no more + than a week, and before a month I was able to take the road again with a + good heart. + </p> + <p> + All this time Alan would not leave me though I often pressed him, and + indeed his foolhardiness in staying was a common subject of outcry with + the two or three friends that were let into the secret. He hid by day in a + hole of the braes under a little wood; and at night, when the coast was + clear, would come into the house to visit me. I need not say if I was + pleased to see him; Mrs. Maclaren, our hostess, thought nothing good + enough for such a guest; and as Duncan Dhu (which was the name of our + host) had a pair of pipes in his house, and was much of a lover of music, + this time of my recovery was quite a festival, and we commonly turned + night into day. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers let us be; although once a party of two companies and some + dragoons went by in the bottom of the valley, where I could see them + through the window as I lay in bed. What was much more astonishing, no + magistrate came near me, and there was no question put of whence I came or + whither I was going; and in that time of excitement, I was as free of all + inquiry as though I had lain in a desert. Yet my presence was known before + I left to all the people in Balquhidder and the adjacent parts; many + coming about the house on visits and these (after the custom of the + country) spreading the news among their neighbours. The bills, too, had + now been printed. There was one pinned near the foot of my bed, where I + could read my own not very flattering portrait and, in larger characters, + the amount of the blood money that had been set upon my life. Duncan Dhu + and the rest that knew that I had come there in Alan's company, could have + entertained no doubt of who I was; and many others must have had their + guess. For though I had changed my clothes, I could not change my age or + person; and Lowland boys of eighteen were not so rife in these parts of + the world, and above all about that time, that they could fail to put one + thing with another, and connect me with the bill. So it was, at least. + Other folk keep a secret among two or three near friends, and somehow it + leaks out; but among these clansmen, it is told to a whole countryside, + and they will keep it for a century. + </p> + <p> + There was but one thing happened worth narrating; and that is the visit I + had of Robin Oig, one of the sons of the notorious Rob Roy. He was sought + upon all sides on a charge of carrying a young woman from Balfron and + marrying her (as was alleged) by force; yet he stepped about Balquhidder + like a gentleman in his own walled policy. It was he who had shot James + Maclaren at the plough stilts, a quarrel never satisfied; yet he walked + into the house of his blood enemies as a rider* might into a public inn.* + Commercial traveller. </> + </p> + <p> + Duncan had time to pass me word of who it was; and we looked at one + another in concern. You should understand, it was then close upon the time + of Alan's coming; the two were little likely to agree; and yet if we sent + word or sought to make a signal, it was sure to arouse suspicion in a man + under so dark a cloud as the Macgregor. + </p> + <p> + He came in with a great show of civility, but like a man among inferiors; + took off his bonnet to Mrs. Maclaren, but clapped it on his head again to + speak to Duncan; and having thus set himself (as he would have thought) in + a proper light, came to my bedside and bowed. + </p> + <p> + "I am given to know, sir," says he, "that your name is Balfour." + </p> + <p> + "They call me David Balfour," said I, "at your service." + </p> + <p> + "I would give ye my name in return, sir," he replied, "but it's one + somewhat blown upon of late days; and it'll perhaps suffice if I tell ye + that I am own brother to James More Drummond or Macgregor, of whom ye will + scarce have failed to hear." + </p> + <p> + "No, sir," said I, a little alarmed; "nor yet of your father, + Macgregor-Campbell." And I sat up and bowed in bed; for I thought best to + compliment him, in case he was proud of having had an outlaw to his + father. + </p> + <p> + He bowed in return. "But what I am come to say, sir," he went on, "is + this. In the year '45, my brother raised a part of the 'Gregara' and + marched six companies to strike a stroke for the good side; and the + surgeon that marched with our clan and cured my brother's leg when it was + broken in the brush at Preston Pans, was a gentleman of the same name + precisely as yourself. He was brother to Balfour of Baith; and if you are + in any reasonable degree of nearness one of that gentleman's kin, I have + come to put myself and my people at your command." + </p> + <p> + You are to remember that I knew no more of my descent than any cadger's + dog; my uncle, to be sure, had prated of some of our high connections, but + nothing to the present purpose; and there was nothing left me but that + bitter disgrace of owning that I could not tell. + </p> + <p> + Robin told me shortly he was sorry he had put himself about, turned his + back upon me without a sign of salutation, and as he went towards the + door, I could hear him telling Duncan that I was "only some kinless loon + that didn't know his own father." Angry as I was at these words, and + ashamed of my own ignorance, I could scarce keep from smiling that a man + who was under the lash of the law (and was indeed hanged some three years + later) should be so nice as to the descent of his acquaintances. + </p> + <p> + Just in the door, he met Alan coming in; and the two drew back and looked + at each other like strange dogs. They were neither of them big men, but + they seemed fairly to swell out with pride. Each wore a sword, and by a + movement of his haunch, thrust clear the hilt of it, so that it might be + the more readily grasped and the blade drawn. + </p> + <p> + "Mr. Stewart, I am thinking," says Robin. + </p> + <p> + "Troth, Mr. Macgregor, it's not a name to be ashamed of," answered Alan. + </p> + <p> + "I did not know ye were in my country, sir," says Robin. + </p> + <p> + "It sticks in my mind that I am in the country of my friends the + Maclarens," says Alan. + </p> + <p> + "That's a kittle point," returned the other. "There may be two words to + say to that. But I think I will have heard that you are a man of your + sword?" + </p> + <p> + "Unless ye were born deaf, Mr. Macgregor, ye will have heard a good deal + more than that," says Alan. "I am not the only man that can draw steel in + Appin; and when my kinsman and captain, Ardshiel, had a talk with a + gentleman of your name, not so many years back, I could never hear that + the Macgregor had the best of it." + </p> + <p> + "Do ye mean my father, sir?" says Robin. + </p> + <p> + "Well, I wouldnae wonder," said Alan. "The gentleman I have in my mind had + the ill-taste to clap Campbell to his name." + </p> + <p> + "My father was an old man," returned Robin. + </p> + <p> + "The match was unequal. You and me would make a better pair, sir." + </p> + <p> + "I was thinking that," said Alan. + </p> + <p> + I was half out of bed, and Duncan had been hanging at the elbow of these + fighting cocks, ready to intervene upon the least occasion. But when that + word was uttered, it was a case of now or never; and Duncan, with + something of a white face to be sure, thrust himself between. + </p> + <p> + "Gentlemen," said he, "I will have been thinking of a very different + matter, whateffer. Here are my pipes, and here are you two gentlemen who + are baith acclaimed pipers. It's an auld dispute which one of ye's the + best. Here will be a braw chance to settle it." + </p> + <p> + "Why, sir," said Alan, still addressing Robin, from whom indeed he had not + so much as shifted his eyes, nor yet Robin from him, "why, sir," says + Alan, "I think I will have heard some sough* of the sort. Have ye music, + as folk say? Are ye a bit of a piper?" + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Rumour. +</pre> + <p> + "I can pipe like a Macrimmon!" cries Robin. + </p> + <p> + "And that is a very bold word," quoth Alan. + </p> + <p> + "I have made bolder words good before now," returned Robin, "and that + against better adversaries." + </p> + <p> + "It is easy to try that," says Alan. + </p> + <p> + Duncan Dhu made haste to bring out the pair of pipes that was his + principal possession, and to set before his guests a mutton-ham and a + bottle of that drink which they call Athole brose, and which is made of + old whiskey, strained honey and sweet cream, slowly beaten together in the + right order and proportion. The two enemies were still on the very breach + of a quarrel; but down they sat, one upon each side of the peat fire, with + a mighty show of politeness. Maclaren pressed them to taste his mutton-ham + and "the wife's brose," reminding them the wife was out of Athole and had + a name far and wide for her skill in that confection. But Robin put aside + these hospitalities as bad for the breath. + </p> + <p> + "I would have ye to remark, sir," said Alan, "that I havenae broken bread + for near upon ten hours, which will be worse for the breath than any brose + in Scotland." + </p> + <p> + "I will take no advantages, Mr. Stewart," replied Robin. "Eat and drink; + I'll follow you." + </p> + <p> + Each ate a small portion of the ham and drank a glass of the brose to Mrs. + Maclaren; and then after a great number of civilities, Robin took the + pipes and played a little spring in a very ranting manner. + </p> + <p> + "Ay, ye can blow" said Alan; and taking the instrument from his rival, he + first played the same spring in a manner identical with Robin's; and then + wandered into variations, which, as he went on, he decorated with a + perfect flight of grace-notes, such as pipers love, and call the + "warblers." + </p> + <p> + I had been pleased with Robin's playing, Alan's ravished me. + </p> + <p> + "That's no very bad, Mr. Stewart," said the rival, "but ye show a poor + device in your warblers." + </p> + <p> + "Me!" cried Alan, the blood starting to his face. "I give ye the lie." + </p> + <p> + "Do ye own yourself beaten at the pipes, then," said Robin, "that ye seek + to change them for the sword?" + </p> + <p> + "And that's very well said, Mr. Macgregor," returned Alan; "and in the + meantime" (laying a strong accent on the word) "I take back the lie. I + appeal to Duncan." + </p> + <p> + "Indeed, ye need appeal to naebody," said Robin. "Ye're a far better judge + than any Maclaren in Balquhidder: for it's a God's truth that you're a + very creditable piper for a Stewart. Hand me the pipes." Alan did as he + asked; and Robin proceeded to imitate and correct some part of Alan's + variations, which it seemed that he remembered perfectly. + </p> + <p> + "Ay, ye have music," said Alan, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + "And now be the judge yourself, Mr. Stewart," said Robin; and taking up + the variations from the beginning, he worked them throughout to so new a + purpose, with such ingenuity and sentiment, and with so odd a fancy and so + quick a knack in the grace-notes, that I was amazed to hear him. + </p> + <p> + As for Alan, his face grew dark and hot, and he sat and gnawed his + fingers, like a man under some deep affront. "Enough!" he cried. "Ye can + blow the pipes—make the most of that." And he made as if to rise. + </p> + <p> + But Robin only held out his hand as if to ask for silence, and struck into + the slow measure of a pibroch. It was a fine piece of music in itself, and + nobly played; but it seems, besides, it was a piece peculiar to the Appin + Stewarts and a chief favourite with Alan. The first notes were scarce out, + before there came a change in his face; when the time quickened, he seemed + to grow restless in his seat; and long before that piece was at an end, + the last signs of his anger died from him, and he had no thought but for + the music. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0273m.jpg" alt="0273m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0273.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + "Robin Oig," he said, when it was done, "ye are a great piper. I am not + fit to blow in the same kingdom with ye. Body of me! ye have mair music in + your sporran than I have in my head! And though it still sticks in my mind + that I could maybe show ye another of it with the cold steel, I warn ye + beforehand—it'll no be fair! It would go against my heart to haggle + a man that can blow the pipes as you can!" + </p> + <p> + Thereupon that quarrel was made up; all night long the brose was going and + the pipes changing hands; and the day had come pretty bright, and the + three men were none the better for what they had been taking, before Robin + as much as thought upon the road. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0277m.jpg" alt="0277m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0277.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI + </h2> + <h3> + END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9277m.jpg" alt="9277m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9277.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + he month, as I have said, was not yet out, but it was already far through + August, and beautiful warm weather, with every sign of an early and great + harvest, when I was pronounced able for my journey. Our money was now run + to so low an ebb that we must think first of all on speed; for if we came + not soon to Mr. Rankeillor's, or if when we came there he should fail to + help me, we must surely starve. In Alan's view, besides, the hunt must + have now greatly slackened; and the line of the Forth and even Stirling + Bridge, which is the main pass over that river, would be watched with + little interest. + </p> + <p> + "It's a chief principle in military affairs," said he, "to go where ye are + least expected. Forth is our trouble; ye ken the saying, 'Forth bridles + the wild Hielandman.' Well, if we seek to creep round about the head of + that river and come down by Kippen or Balfron, it's just precisely there + that they'll be looking to lay hands on us. But if we stave on straight to + the auld Brig of Stirling, I'll lay my sword they let us pass + unchallenged." + </p> + <p> + The first night, accordingly, we pushed to the house of a Maclaren in + Strathire, a friend of Duncan's, where we slept the twenty-first of the + month, and whence we set forth again about the fall of night to make + another easy stage. The twenty-second we lay in a heather bush on the + hillside in Uam Var, within view of a herd of deer, the happiest ten hours + of sleep in a fine, breathing sunshine and on bone-dry ground, that I have + ever tasted. That night we struck Allan Water, and followed it down; and + coming to the edge of the hills saw the whole Carse of Stirling underfoot, + as flat as a pancake, with the town and castle on a hill in the midst of + it, and the moon shining on the Links of Forth. + </p> + <p> + "Now," said Alan, "I kenna if ye care, but ye're in your own land again. + We passed the Hieland Line in the first hour; and now if we could but pass + yon crooked water, we might cast our bonnets in the air." + </p> + <p> + In Allan Water, near by where it falls into the Forth, we found a little + sandy islet, overgrown with burdock, butterbur and the like low plants, + that would just cover us if we lay flat. Here it was we made our camp, + within plain view of Stirling Castle, whence we could hear the drums beat + as some part of the garrison paraded. Shearers worked all day in a field + on one side of the river, and we could hear the stones going on the hooks + and the voices and even the words of the men talking. It behoved to lie + close and keep silent. But the sand of the little isle was sun-warm, the + green plants gave us shelter for our heads, we had food and drink in + plenty; and to crown all, we were within sight of safety. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the shearers quit their work and the dusk began to fall, we + waded ashore and struck for the Bridge of Stirling, keeping to the fields + and under the field fences. + </p> + <p> + The bridge is close under the castle hill, an old, high, narrow bridge + with pinnacles along the parapet; and you may conceive with how much + interest I looked upon it, not only as a place famous in history, but as + the very doors of salvation to Alan and myself. The moon was not yet up + when we came there; a few lights shone along the front of the fortress, + and lower down a few lighted windows in the town; but it was all mighty + still, and there seemed to be no guard upon the passage. + </p> + <p> + I was for pushing straight across; but Alan was more wary. + </p> + <p> + "It looks unco' quiet," said he; "but for all that we'll lie down here + cannily behind a dyke, and make sure." + </p> + <p> + So we lay for about a quarter of an hour, whiles whispering, whiles lying + still and hearing nothing earthly but the washing of the water on the + piers. At last there came by an old, hobbling woman with a crutch stick; + who first stopped a little, close to where we lay, and bemoaned herself + and the long way she had travelled; and then set forth again up the steep + spring of the bridge. The woman was so little, and the night still so + dark, that we soon lost sight of her; only heard the sound of her steps, + and her stick, and a cough that she had by fits, draw slowly farther away. + </p> + <p> + "She's bound to be across now," I whispered. + </p> + <p> + "Na," said Alan, "her foot still sounds boss* upon the bridge." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Hollow. +</pre> + <p> + And just then—"Who goes?" cried a voice, and we heard the butt of a + musket rattle on the stones. I must suppose the sentry had been sleeping, + so that had we tried, we might have passed unseen; but he was awake now, + and the chance forfeited. + </p> + <p> + "This'll never do," said Alan. "This'll never, never do for us, David." + </p> + <p> + And without another word, he began to crawl away through the fields; and a + little after, being well out of eye-shot, got to his feet again, and + struck along a road that led to the eastward. I could not conceive what he + was doing; and indeed I was so sharply cut by the disappointment, that I + was little likely to be pleased with anything. A moment back and I had + seen myself knocking at Mr. Rankeillor's door to claim my inheritance, + like a hero in a ballad; and here was I back again, a wandering, hunted + blackguard, on the wrong side of Forth. + </p> + <p> + "Well?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "Well," said Alan, "what would ye have? They're none such fools as I took + them for. We have still the Forth to pass, Davie—weary fall the + rains that fed and the hillsides that guided it!" + </p> + <p> + "And why go east?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "Ou, just upon the chance!" said he. "If we cannae pass the river, we'll + have to see what we can do for the firth." + </p> + <p> + "There are fords upon the river, and none upon the firth," said I. + </p> + <p> + "To be sure there are fords, and a bridge forbye," quoth Alan; "and of + what service, when they are watched?" + </p> + <p> + "Well," said I, "but a river can be swum." + </p> + <p> + "By them that have the skill of it," returned he; "but I have yet to hear + that either you or me is much of a hand at that exercise; and for my own + part, I swim like a stone." + </p> + <p> + "I'm not up to you in talking back, Alan," I said; "but I can see we're + making bad worse. If it's hard to pass a river, it stands to reason it + must be worse to pass a sea." + </p> + <p> + "But there's such a thing as a boat," says Alan, "or I'm the more + deceived." + </p> + <p> + "Ay, and such a thing as money," says I. "But for us that have neither one + nor other, they might just as well not have been invented." + </p> + <p> + "Ye think so?" said Alan. + </p> + <p> + "I do that," said I. + </p> + <p> + "David," says he, "ye're a man of small invention and less faith. But let + me set my wits upon the hone, and if I cannae beg, borrow, nor yet steal a + boat, I'll make one!" + </p> + <p> + "I think I see ye!" said I. "And what's more than all that: if ye pass a + bridge, it can tell no tales; but if we pass the firth, there's the boat + on the wrong side—somebody must have brought it—the + country-side will all be in a bizz—-" + </p> + <p> + "Man!" cried Alan, "if I make a boat, I'll make a body to take it back + again! So deave me with no more of your nonsense, but walk (for that's + what you've got to do)—and let Alan think for ye." + </p> + <p> + All night, then, we walked through the north side of the Carse under the + high line of the Ochil mountains; and by Alloa and Clackmannan and + Culross, all of which we avoided: and about ten in the morning, mighty + hungry and tired, came to the little clachan of Limekilns. This is a place + that sits near in by the water-side, and looks across the Hope to the town + of the Queensferry. Smoke went up from both of these, and from other + villages and farms upon all hands. The fields were being reaped; two ships + lay anchored, and boats were coming and going on the Hope. It was + altogether a right pleasant sight to me; and I could not take my fill of + gazing at these comfortable, green, cultivated hills and the busy people + both of the field and sea. + </p> + <p> + For all that, there was Mr. Rankeillor's house on the south shore, where I + had no doubt wealth awaited me; and here was I upon the north, clad in + poor enough attire of an outlandish fashion, with three silver shillings + left to me of all my fortune, a price set upon my head, and an outlawed + man for my sole company. + </p> + <p> + "O, Alan!" said I, "to think of it! Over there, there's all that heart + could want waiting me; and the birds go over, and the boats go over—all + that please can go, but just me only! O, man, but it's a heart-break!" + </p> + <p> + In Limekilns we entered a small change-house, which we only knew to be a + public by the wand over the door, and bought some bread and cheese from a + good-looking lass that was the servant. This we carried with us in a + bundle, meaning to sit and eat it in a bush of wood on the sea-shore, that + we saw some third part of a mile in front. As we went, I kept looking + across the water and sighing to myself; and though I took no heed of it, + Alan had fallen into a muse. At last he stopped in the way. + </p> + <p> + "Did ye take heed of the lass we bought this of?" says he, tapping on the + bread and cheese. + </p> + <p> + "To be sure," said I, "and a bonny lass she was." + </p> + <p> + "Ye thought that?" cries he. "Man, David, that's good news." + </p> + <p> + "In the name of all that's wonderful, why so?" says I. "What good can that + do?" + </p> + <p> + "Well," said Alan, with one of his droll looks, "I was rather in hopes it + would maybe get us that boat." + </p> + <p> + "If it were the other way about, it would be liker it," said I. + </p> + <p> + "That's all that you ken, ye see," said Alan. "I don't want the lass to + fall in love with ye, I want her to be sorry for ye, David; to which end + there is no manner of need that she should take you for a beauty. Let me + see" (looking me curiously over). "I wish ye were a wee thing paler; but + apart from that ye'll do fine for my purpose—ye have a fine, + hang-dog, rag-and-tatter, clappermaclaw kind of a look to ye, as if ye had + stolen the coat from a potato-bogle. Come; right about, and back to the + change-house for that boat of ours." + </p> + <p> + I followed him, laughing. + </p> + <p> + "David Balfour," said he, "ye're a very funny gentleman by your way of it, + and this is a very funny employ for ye, no doubt. For all that, if ye have + any affection for my neck (to say nothing of your own) ye will perhaps be + kind enough to take this matter responsibly. I am going to do a bit of + play-acting, the bottom ground of which is just exactly as serious as the + gallows for the pair of us. So bear it, if ye please, in mind, and conduct + yourself according." + </p> + <p> + "Well, well," said I, "have it as you will." + </p> + <p> + As we got near the clachan, he made me take his arm and hang upon it like + one almost helpless with weariness; and by the time he pushed open the + change-house door, he seemed to be half carrying me. The maid appeared + surprised (as well she might be) at our speedy return; but Alan had no + words to spare for her in explanation, helped me to a chair, called for a + tass of brandy with which he fed me in little sips, and then breaking up + the bread and cheese helped me to eat it like a nursery-lass; the whole + with that grave, concerned, affectionate countenance, that might have + imposed upon a judge. It was small wonder if the maid were taken with the + picture we presented, of a poor, sick, overwrought lad and his most tender + comrade. She drew quite near, and stood leaning with her back on the next + table. + </p> + <p> + "What's like wrong with him?" said she at last. + </p> + <p> + Alan turned upon her, to my great wonder, with a kind of fury. "Wrong?" + cries he. "He's walked more hundreds of miles than he has hairs upon his + chin, and slept oftener in wet heather than dry sheets. Wrong, quo' she! + Wrong enough, I would think! Wrong, indeed!" and he kept grumbling to + himself as he fed me, like a man ill-pleased. + </p> + <p> + "He's young for the like of that," said the maid. + </p> + <p> + "Ower young," said Alan, with his back to her. + </p> + <p> + "He would be better riding," says she. + </p> + <p> + "And where could I get a horse to him?" cried Alan, turning on her with + the same appearance of fury. "Would ye have me steal?" + </p> + <p> + I thought this roughness would have sent her off in dudgeon, as indeed it + closed her mouth for the time. But my companion knew very well what he was + doing; and for as simple as he was in some things of life, had a great + fund of roguishness in such affairs as these. + </p> + <p> + "Ye neednae tell me," she said at last—"ye're gentry." + </p> + <p> + "Well," said Alan, softened a little (I believe against his will) by this + artless comment, "and suppose we were? Did ever you hear that gentrice put + money in folk's pockets?" + </p> + <p> + She sighed at this, as if she were herself some disinherited great lady. + "No," says she, "that's true indeed." + </p> + <p> + I was all this while chafing at the part I played, and sitting tongue-tied + between shame and merriment; but somehow at this I could hold in no + longer, and bade Alan let me be, for I was better already. My voice stuck + in my throat, for I ever hated to take part in lies; but my very + embarrassment helped on the plot, for the lass no doubt set down my husky + voice to sickness and fatigue. + </p> + <p> + "Has he nae friends?" said she, in a tearful voice. + </p> + <p> + "That has he so!" cried Alan, "if we could but win to them!—friends + and rich friends, beds to lie in, food to eat, doctors to see to him—and + here he must tramp in the dubs and sleep in the heather like a beggarman." + </p> + <p> + "And why that?" says the lass. + </p> + <p> + "My dear," said Alan, "I cannae very safely say; but I'll tell ye what + I'll do instead," says he, "I'll whistle ye a bit tune." And with that he + leaned pretty far over the table, and in a mere breath of a whistle, but + with a wonderful pretty sentiment, gave her a few bars of "Charlie is my + darling." + </p> + <p> + "Wheesht," says she, and looked over her shoulder to the door. + </p> + <p> + "That's it," said Alan. + </p> + <p> + "And him so young!" cries the lass. + </p> + <p> + "He's old enough to——" and Alan struck his forefinger on the + back part of his neck, meaning that I was old enough to lose my head. + </p> + <p> + "It would be a black shame," she cried, flushing high. + </p> + <p> + "It's what will be, though," said Alan, "unless we manage the better." + </p> + <p> + At this the lass turned and ran out of that part of the house, leaving us + alone together. Alan in high good humour at the furthering of his schemes, + and I in bitter dudgeon at being called a Jacobite and treated like a + child. + </p> + <p> + "Alan," I cried, "I can stand no more of this." + </p> + <p> + "Ye'll have to sit it then, Davie," said he. "For if ye upset the pot now, + ye may scrape your own life out of the fire, but Alan Breck is a dead + man." + </p> + <p> + This was so true that I could only groan; and even my groan served Alan's + purpose, for it was overheard by the lass as she came flying in again with + a dish of white puddings and a bottle of strong ale. + </p> + <p> + "Poor lamb!" says she, and had no sooner set the meat before us, than she + touched me on the shoulder with a little friendly touch, as much as to bid + me cheer up. Then she told us to fall to, and there would be no more to + pay; for the inn was her own, or at least her father's, and he was gone + for the day to Pittencrieff. We waited for no second bidding, for bread + and cheese is but cold comfort and the puddings smelt excellently well; + and while we sat and ate, she took up that same place by the next table, + looking on, and thinking, and frowning to herself, and drawing the string + of her apron through her hand. + </p> + <p> + "I'm thinking ye have rather a long tongue," she said at last to Alan. + </p> + <p> + "Ay" said Alan; "but ye see I ken the folk I speak to." + </p> + <p> + "I would never betray ye," said she, "if ye mean that." + </p> + <p> + "No," said he, "ye're not that kind. But I'll tell ye what ye would do, ye + would help." + </p> + <p> + "I couldnae," said she, shaking her head. "Na, I couldnae." + </p> + <p> + "No," said he, "but if ye could?" + </p> + <p> + She answered him nothing. + </p> + <p> + "Look here, my lass," said Alan, "there are boats in the Kingdom of Fife, + for I saw two (no less) upon the beach, as I came in by your town's end. + Now if we could have the use of a boat to pass under cloud of night into + Lothian, and some secret, decent kind of a man to bring that boat back + again and keep his counsel, there would be two souls saved—mine to + all likelihood—his to a dead surety. If we lack that boat, we have + but three shillings left in this wide world; and where to go, and how to + do, and what other place there is for us except the chains of a gibbet—I + give you my naked word, I kenna! Shall we go wanting, lassie? Are ye to + lie in your warm bed and think upon us, when the wind gowls in the chimney + and the rain tirls on the roof? Are ye to eat your meat by the cheeks of a + red fire, and think upon this poor sick lad of mine, biting his finger + ends on a blae muir for cauld and hunger? Sick or sound, he must aye be + moving; with the death grapple at his throat he must aye be trailing in + the rain on the lang roads; and when he gants his last on a rickle of + cauld stanes, there will be nae friends near him but only me and God." + </p> + <p> + At this appeal, I could see the lass was in great trouble of mind, being + tempted to help us, and yet in some fear she might be helping malefactors; + and so now I determined to step in myself and to allay her scruples with a + portion of the truth. + </p> + <p> + "Did ever you hear," said I, "of Mr. Rankeillor of the Ferry?" + </p> + <p> + "Rankeillor the writer?" said she. "I daur say that!" + </p> + <p> + "Well," said I, "it's to his door that I am bound, so you may judge by + that if I am an ill-doer; and I will tell you more, that though I am + indeed, by a dreadful error, in some peril of my life, King George has no + truer friend in all Scotland than myself." + </p> + <p> + Her face cleared up mightily at this, although Alan's darkened. + </p> + <p> + "That's more than I would ask," said she. "Mr. Rankeillor is a kennt man." + And she bade us finish our meat, get clear of the clachan as soon as might + be, and lie close in the bit wood on the sea-beach. "And ye can trust me," + says she, "I'll find some means to put you over." + </p> + <p> + At this we waited for no more, but shook hands with her upon the bargain, + made short work of the puddings, and set forth again from Limekilns as far + as to the wood. It was a small piece of perhaps a score of elders and + hawthorns and a few young ashes, not thick enough to veil us from + passersby upon the road or beach. Here we must lie, however, making the + best of the brave warm weather and the good hopes we now had of a + deliverance, and planing more particularly what remained for us to do. + </p> + <p> + We had but one trouble all day; when a strolling piper came and sat in the + same wood with us; a red-nosed, bleareyed, drunken dog, with a great + bottle of whisky in his pocket, and a long story of wrongs that had been + done him by all sorts of persons, from the Lord President of the Court of + Session, who had denied him justice, down to the Bailies of Inverkeithing + who had given him more of it than he desired. It was impossible but he + should conceive some suspicion of two men lying all day concealed in a + thicket and having no business to allege. As long as he stayed there he + kept us in hot water with prying questions; and after he was gone, as he + was a man not very likely to hold his tongue, we were in the greater + impatience to be gone ourselves. + </p> + <p> + The day came to an end with the same brightness; the night fell quiet and + clear; lights came out in houses and hamlets and then, one after another, + began to be put out; but it was past eleven, and we were long since + strangely tortured with anxieties, before we heard the grinding of oars + upon the rowing-pins. At that, we looked out and saw the lass herself + coming rowing to us in a boat. She had trusted no one with our affairs, + not even her sweetheart, if she had one; but as soon as her father was + asleep, had left the house by a window, stolen a neighbour's boat, and + come to our assistance single-handed. + </p> + <p> + I was abashed how to find expression for my thanks; but she was no less + abashed at the thought of hearing them; begged us to lose no time and to + hold our peace, saying (very properly) that the heart of our matter was in + haste and silence; and so, what with one thing and another, she had set us + on the Lothian shore not far from Carriden, had shaken hands with us, and + was out again at sea and rowing for Limekilns, before there was one word + said either of her service or our gratitude. + </p> + <p> + Even after she was gone, we had nothing to say, as indeed nothing was + enough for such a kindness. Only Alan stood a great while upon the shore + shaking his head. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0287m.jpg" alt="0287m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0287.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + "It is a very fine lass," he said at last. "David, it is a very fine + lass." And a matter of an hour later, as we were lying in a den on the + sea-shore and I had been already dozing, he broke out again in + commendations of her character. For my part, I could say nothing, she was + so simple a creature that my heart smote me both with remorse and fear: + remorse because we had traded upon her ignorance; and fear lest we should + have anyway involved her in the dangers of our situation. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0291m.jpg" alt="0291m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0291.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII + </h2> + <h3> + I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9291m.jpg" alt="9291m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9291.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + he next day it was agreed that Alan should fend for himself till sunset; + but as soon as it began to grow dark, he should lie in the fields by the + roadside near to Newhalls, and stir for naught until he heard me + whistling. At first I proposed I should give him for a signal the "Bonnie + House of Airlie," which was a favourite of mine; but he objected that as + the piece was very commonly known, any ploughman might whistle it by + accident; and taught me instead a little fragment of a Highland air, which + has run in my head from that day to this, and will likely run in my head + when I lie dying. Every time it comes to me, it takes me off to that last + day of my uncertainty, with Alan sitting up in the bottom of the den, + whistling and beating the measure with a finger, and the grey of the dawn + coming on his face. + </p> + <p> + I was in the long street of Queensferry before the sun was up. It was a + fairly built burgh, the houses of good stone, many slated; the town-hall + not so fine, I thought, as that of Peebles, nor yet the street so noble; + but take it altogether, it put me to shame for my foul tatters. + </p> + <p> + As the morning went on, and the fires began to be kindled, and the windows + to open, and the people to appear out of the houses, my concern and + despondency grew ever the blacker. I saw now that I had no grounds to + stand upon; and no clear proof of my rights, nor so much as of my own + identity. If it was all a bubble, I was indeed sorely cheated and left in + a sore pass. Even if things were as I conceived, it would in all + likelihood take time to establish my contentions; and what time had I to + spare with less than three shillings in my pocket, and a condemned, hunted + man upon my hands to ship out of the country? Truly, if my hope broke with + me, it might come to the gallows yet for both of us. And as I continued to + walk up and down, and saw people looking askance at me upon the street or + out of windows, and nudging or speaking one to another with smiles, I + began to take a fresh apprehension: that it might be no easy matter even + to come to speech of the lawyer, far less to convince him of my story. + </p> + <p> + For the life of me I could not muster up the courage to address any of + these reputable burghers; I thought shame even to speak with them in such + a pickle of rags and dirt; and if I had asked for the house of such a man + as Mr. Rankeillor, I suppose they would have burst out laughing in my + face. So I went up and down, and through the street, and down to the + harbour-side, like a dog that has lost its master, with a strange gnawing + in my inwards, and every now and then a movement of despair. It grew to be + high day at last, perhaps nine in the forenoon; and I was worn with these + wanderings, and chanced to have stopped in front of a very good house on + the landward side, a house with beautiful, clear glass windows, flowering + knots upon the sills, the walls new-harled* and a chase-dog sitting + yawning on the step like one that was at home. Well, I was even envying + this dumb brute, when the door fell open and there issued forth a shrewd, + ruddy, kindly, consequential man in a well-powdered wig and spectacles. I + was in such a plight that no one set eyes on me once, but he looked at me + again; and this gentleman, as it proved, was so much struck with my poor + appearance that he came straight up to me and asked me what I did. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Newly rough-cast. +</pre> + <p> + I told him I was come to the Queensferry on business, and taking heart of + grace, asked him to direct me to the house of Mr. Rankeillor. + </p> + <p> + "Why," said he, "that is his house that I have just come out of; and for a + rather singular chance, I am that very man." + </p> + <p> + "Then, sir," said I, "I have to beg the favour of an interview." + </p> + <p> + "I do not know your name," said he, "nor yet your face." + </p> + <p> + "My name is David Balfour," said I. + </p> + <p> + "David Balfour?" he repeated, in rather a high tone, like one surprised. + "And where have you come from, Mr. David Balfour?" he asked, looking me + pretty drily in the face. + </p> + <p> + "I have come from a great many strange places, sir," said I; "but I think + it would be as well to tell you where and how in a more private manner." + </p> + <p> + He seemed to muse awhile, holding his lip in his hand, and looking now at + me and now upon the causeway of the street. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," says he, "that will be the best, no doubt." And he led me back with + him into his house, cried out to some one whom I could not see that he + would be engaged all morning, and brought me into a little dusty chamber + full of books and documents. Here he sate down, and bade me be seated; + though I thought he looked a little ruefully from his clean chair to my + muddy rags. "And now," says he, "if you have any business, pray be brief + and come swiftly to the point. Nec gemino bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo—do + you understand that?" says he, with a keen look. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0293m.jpg" alt="0293m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0293.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + "I will even do as Horace says, sir," I answered, smiling, "and carry you + in medias res." He nodded as if he was well pleased, and indeed his scrap + of Latin had been set to test me. For all that, and though I was somewhat + encouraged, the blood came in my face when I added: "I have reason to + believe myself some rights on the estate of Shaws." + </p> + <p> + He got a paper book out of a drawer and set it before him open. "Well?" + said he. + </p> + <p> + But I had shot my bolt and sat speechless. + </p> + <p> + "Come, come, Mr. Balfour," said he, "you must continue. Where were you + born?" + </p> + <p> + "In Essendean, sir," said I, "the year 1733, the 12th of March." + </p> + <p> + He seemed to follow this statement in his paper book; but what that meant + I knew not. "Your father and mother?" said he. + </p> + <p> + "My father was Alexander Balfour, schoolmaster of that place," said I, + "and my mother Grace Pitarrow; I think her people were from Angus." + </p> + <p> + "Have you any papers proving your identity?" asked Mr. Rankeillor. + </p> + <p> + "No, sir," said I, "but they are in the hands of Mr. Campbell, the + minister, and could be readily produced. Mr. Campbell, too, would give me + his word; and for that matter, I do not think my uncle would deny me." + </p> + <p> + "Meaning Mr. Ebenezer Balfour?" says he. + </p> + <p> + "The same," said I. + </p> + <p> + "Whom you have seen?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "By whom I was received into his own house," I answered. + </p> + <p> + "Did you ever meet a man of the name of Hoseason?" asked Mr. Rankeillor. + </p> + <p> + "I did so, sir, for my sins," said I; "for it was by his means and the + procurement of my uncle, that I was kidnapped within sight of this town, + carried to sea, suffered shipwreck and a hundred other hardships, and + stand before you to-day in this poor accoutrement." + </p> + <p> + "You say you were shipwrecked," said Rankeillor; "where was that?" + </p> + <p> + "Off the south end of the Isle of Mull," said I. "The name of the isle on + which I was cast up is the Island Earraid." + </p> + <p> + "Ah!" says he, smiling, "you are deeper than me in the geography. But so + far, I may tell you, this agrees pretty exactly with other informations + that I hold. But you say you were kidnapped; in what sense?" + </p> + <p> + "In the plain meaning of the word, sir," said I. "I was on my way to your + house, when I was trepanned on board the brig, cruelly struck down, thrown + below, and knew no more of anything till we were far at sea. I was + destined for the plantations; a fate that, in God's providence, I have + escaped." + </p> + <p> + "The brig was lost on June the 27th," says he, looking in his book, "and + we are now at August the 24th. Here is a considerable hiatus, Mr. Balfour, + of near upon two months. It has already caused a vast amount of trouble to + your friends; and I own I shall not be very well contented until it is set + right." + </p> + <p> + "Indeed, sir," said I, "these months are very easily filled up; but yet + before I told my story, I would be glad to know that I was talking to a + friend." + </p> + <p> + "This is to argue in a circle," said the lawyer. "I cannot be convinced + till I have heard you. I cannot be your friend till I am properly + informed. If you were more trustful, it would better befit your time of + life. And you know, Mr. Balfour, we have a proverb in the country that + evil-doers are aye evil-dreaders." + </p> + <p> + "You are not to forget, sir," said I, "that I have already suffered by my + trustfulness; and was shipped off to be a slave by the very man that (if I + rightly understand) is your employer?" + </p> + <p> + All this while I had been gaining ground with Mr. Rankeillor, and in + proportion as I gained ground, gaining confidence. But at this sally, + which I made with something of a smile myself, he fairly laughed aloud. + </p> + <p> + "No, no," said he, "it is not so bad as that. Fui, non sum. I was indeed + your uncle's man of business; but while you (imberbis juvenis custode + remoto) were gallivanting in the west, a good deal of water has run under + the bridges; and if your ears did not sing, it was not for lack of being + talked about. On the very day of your sea disaster, Mr. Campbell stalked + into my office, demanding you from all the winds. I had never heard of + your existence; but I had known your father; and from matters in my + competence (to be touched upon hereafter) I was disposed to fear the + worst. Mr. Ebenezer admitted having seen you; declared (what seemed + improbable) that he had given you considerable sums; and that you had + started for the continent of Europe, intending to fulfil your education, + which was probable and praiseworthy. Interrogated how you had come to send + no word to Mr. Campbell, he deponed that you had expressed a great desire + to break with your past life. Further interrogated where you now were, + protested ignorance, but believed you were in Leyden. That is a close sum + of his replies. I am not exactly sure that any one believed him," + continued Mr. Rankeillor with a smile; "and in particular he so much + disrelished me expressions of mine that (in a word) he showed me to the + door. We were then at a full stand; for whatever shrewd suspicions we + might entertain, we had no shadow of probation. In the very article, comes + Captain Hoseason with the story of your drowning; whereupon all fell + through; with no consequences but concern to Mr. Campbell, injury to my + pocket, and another blot upon your uncle's character, which could very ill + afford it. And now, Mr. Balfour," said he, "you understand the whole + process of these matters, and can judge for yourself to what extent I may + be trusted." + </p> + <p> + Indeed he was more pedantic than I can represent him, and placed more + scraps of Latin in his speech; but it was all uttered with a fine + geniality of eye and manner which went far to conquer my distrust. + Moreover, I could see he now treated me as if I was myself beyond a doubt; + so that first point of my identity seemed fully granted. + </p> + <p> + "Sir," said I, "if I tell you my story, I must commit a friend's life to + your discretion. Pass me your word it shall be sacred; and for what + touches myself, I will ask no better guarantee than just your face." + </p> + <p> + He passed me his word very seriously. "But," said he, "these are rather + alarming prolocutions; and if there are in your story any little jostles + to the law, I would beg you to bear in mind that I am a lawyer, and pass + lightly." + </p> + <p> + Thereupon I told him my story from the first, he listening with his + spectacles thrust up and his eyes closed, so that I sometimes feared he + was asleep. But no such matter! he heard every word (as I found afterward) + with such quickness of hearing and precision of memory as often surprised + me. Even strange outlandish Gaelic names, heard for that time only, he + remembered and would remind me of, years after. Yet when I called Alan + Breck in full, we had an odd scene. The name of Alan had of course rung + through Scotland, with the news of the Appin murder and the offer of the + reward; and it had no sooner escaped me than the lawyer moved in his seat + and opened his eyes. + </p> + <p> + "I would name no unnecessary names, Mr. Balfour," said he; "above all of + Highlanders, many of whom are obnoxious to the law." + </p> + <p> + "Well, it might have been better not," said I, "but since I have let it + slip, I may as well continue." + </p> + <p> + "Not at all," said Mr. Rankeillor. "I am somewhat dull of hearing, as you + may have remarked; and I am far from sure I caught the name exactly. We + will call your friend, if you please, Mr. Thomson—that there may be + no reflections. And in future, I would take some such way with any + Highlander that you may have to mention—dead or alive." + </p> + <p> + By this, I saw he must have heard the name all too clearly, and had + already guessed I might be coming to the murder. If he chose to play this + part of ignorance, it was no matter of mine; so I smiled, said it was no + very Highland-sounding name, and consented. Through all the rest of my + story Alan was Mr. Thomson; which amused me the more, as it was a piece of + policy after his own heart. James Stewart, in like manner, was mentioned + under the style of Mr. Thomson's kinsman; Colin Campbell passed as a Mr. + Glen; and to Cluny, when I came to that part of my tale, I gave the name + of "Mr. Jameson, a Highland chief." It was truly the most open farce, and + I wondered that the lawyer should care to keep it up; but, after all, it + was quite in the taste of that age, when there were two parties in the + state, and quiet persons, with no very high opinions of their own, sought + out every cranny to avoid offence to either. + </p> + <p> + "Well, well," said the lawyer, when I had quite done, "this is a great + epic, a great Odyssey of yours. You must tell it, sir, in a sound Latinity + when your scholarship is riper; or in English if you please, though for my + part I prefer the stronger tongue. You have rolled much; quae regio in + terris—what parish in Scotland (to make a homely translation) has + not been filled with your wanderings? You have shown, besides, a singular + aptitude for getting into false positions; and, yes, upon the whole, for + behaving well in them. This Mr. Thomson seems to me a gentleman of some + choice qualities, though perhaps a trifle bloody-minded. It would please + me none the worse, if (with all his merits) he were soused in the North + Sea, for the man, Mr. David, is a sore embarrassment. But you are + doubtless quite right to adhere to him; indubitably, he adhered to you. It + comes—we may say—he was your true companion; nor less paribus + curis vestigia figit, for I dare say you would both take an orra thought + upon the gallows. Well, well, these days are fortunately by; and I think + (speaking humanly) that you are near the end of your troubles." + </p> + <p> + As he thus moralised on my adventures, he looked upon me with so much + humour and benignity that I could scarce contain my satisfaction. I had + been so long wandering with lawless people, and making my bed upon the + hills and under the bare sky, that to sit once more in a clean, covered + house, and to talk amicably with a gentleman in broadcloth, seemed mighty + elevations. Even as I thought so, my eye fell on my unseemly tatters, and + I was once more plunged in confusion. But the lawyer saw and understood + me. He rose, called over the stair to lay another plate, for Mr. Balfour + would stay to dinner, and led me into a bedroom in the upper part of the + house. Here he set before me water and soap, and a comb; and laid out some + clothes that belonged to his son; and here, with another apposite tag, he + left me to my toilet. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0302m.jpg" alt="0302m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0302.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII + </h2> + <h3> + I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9302m.jpg" alt="9302m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9302.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + made what change I could in my appearance; and blithe was I to look in + the glass and find the beggarman a thing of the past, and David Balfour + come to life again. And yet I was ashamed of the change too, and, above + all, of the borrowed clothes. When I had done, Mr. Rankeillor caught me on + the stair, made me his compliments, and had me again into the cabinet. + </p> + <p> + "Sit ye down, Mr. David," said he, "and now that you are looking a little + more like yourself, let me see if I can find you any news. You will be + wondering, no doubt, about your father and your uncle? To be sure it is a + singular tale; and the explanation is one that I blush to have to offer + you. For," says he, really with embarrassment, "the matter hinges on a + love affair." + </p> + <p> + "Truly," said I, "I cannot very well join that notion with my uncle." + </p> + <p> + "But your uncle, Mr. David, was not always old," replied the lawyer, "and + what may perhaps surprise you more, not always ugly. He had a fine, + gallant air; people stood in their doors to look after him, as he went by + upon a mettle horse. I have seen it with these eyes, and I ingenuously + confess, not altogether without envy; for I was a plain lad myself and a + plain man's son; and in those days it was a case of Odi te, qui bellus es, + Sabelle." + </p> + <p> + "It sounds like a dream," said I. + </p> + <p> + "Ay, ay," said the lawyer, "that is how it is with youth and age. Nor was + that all, but he had a spirit of his own that seemed to promise great + things in the future. In 1715, what must he do but run away to join the + rebels? It was your father that pursued him, found him in a ditch, and + brought him back multum gementem; to the mirth of the whole country. + However, majora canamus—the two lads fell in love, and that with the + same lady. Mr. Ebenezer, who was the admired and the beloved, and the + spoiled one, made, no doubt, mighty certain of the victory; and when he + found he had deceived himself, screamed like a peacock. The whole country + heard of it; now he lay sick at home, with his silly family standing round + the bed in tears; now he rode from public-house to public-house, and + shouted his sorrows into the lug of Tom, Dick, and Harry. Your father, Mr. + David, was a kind gentleman; but he was weak, dolefully weak; took all + this folly with a long countenance; and one day—by your leave!—resigned + the lady. She was no such fool, however; it's from her you must inherit + your excellent good sense; and she refused to be bandied from one to + another. Both got upon their knees to her; and the upshot of the matter + for that while was that she showed both of them the door. That was in + August; dear me! the same year I came from college. The scene must have + been highly farcical." + </p> + <p> + I thought myself it was a silly business, but I could not forget my father + had a hand in it. "Surely, sir, it had some note of tragedy," said I. + </p> + <p> + "Why, no, sir, not at all," returned the lawyer. "For tragedy implies some + ponderable matter in dispute, some dignus vindice nodus; and this piece of + work was all about the petulance of a young ass that had been spoiled, and + wanted nothing so much as to be tied up and soundly belted. However, that + was not your father's view; and the end of it was, that from concession to + concession on your father's part, and from one height to another of + squalling, sentimental selfishness upon your uncle's, they came at last to + drive a sort of bargain, from whose ill results you have recently been + smarting. The one man took the lady, the other the estate. Now, Mr. David, + they talk a great deal of charity and generosity; but in this disputable + state of life, I often think the happiest consequences seem to flow when a + gentleman consults his lawyer, and takes all the law allows him. Anyhow, + this piece of Quixotry on your father's part, as it was unjust in itself, + has brought forth a monstrous family of injustices. Your father and mother + lived and died poor folk; you were poorly reared; and in the meanwhile, + what a time it has been for the tenants on the estate of Shaws! And I + might add (if it was a matter I cared much about) what a time for Mr. + Ebenezer!" + </p> + <p> + "And yet that is certainly the strangest part of all," said I, "that a + man's nature should thus change." + </p> + <p> + "True," said Mr. Rankeillor. "And yet I imagine it was natural enough. He + could not think that he had played a handsome part. Those who knew the + story gave him the cold shoulder; those who knew it not, seeing one + brother disappear, and the other succeed in the estate, raised a cry of + murder; so that upon all sides he found himself evited. Money was all he + got by his bargain; well, he came to think the more of money. He was + selfish when he was young, he is selfish now that he is old; and the + latter end of all these pretty manners and fine feelings you have seen for + yourself." + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir," said I, "and in all this, what is my position?" + </p> + <p> + "The estate is yours beyond a doubt," replied the lawyer. "It matters + nothing what your father signed, you are the heir of entail. But your + uncle is a man to fight the indefensible; and it would be likely your + identity that he would call in question. A lawsuit is always expensive, + and a family lawsuit always scandalous; besides which, if any of your + doings with your friend Mr. Thomson were to come out, we might find that + we had burned our fingers. The kidnapping, to be sure, would be a court + card upon our side, if we could only prove it. But it may be difficult to + prove; and my advice (upon the whole) is to make a very easy bargain with + your uncle, perhaps even leaving him at Shaws where he has taken root for + a quarter of a century, and contenting yourself in the meanwhile with a + fair provision." + </p> + <p> + I told him I was very willing to be easy, and that to carry family + concerns before the public was a step from which I was naturally much + averse. In the meantime (thinking to myself) I began to see the outlines + of that scheme on which we afterwards acted. + </p> + <p> + "The great affair," I asked, "is to bring home to him the kidnapping?" + </p> + <p> + "Surely," said Mr. Rankeillor, "and if possible, out of court. For mark + you here, Mr. David: we could no doubt find some men of the Covenant who + would swear to your reclusion; but once they were in the box, we could no + longer check their testimony, and some word of your friend Mr. Thomson + must certainly crop out. Which (from what you have let fall) I cannot + think to be desirable." + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir," said I, "here is my way of it." And I opened my plot to him. + </p> + <p> + "But this would seem to involve my meeting the man Thomson?" says he, when + I had done. + </p> + <p> + "I think so, indeed, sir," said I. + </p> + <p> + "Dear doctor!" cries he, rubbing his brow. "Dear doctor! No, Mr. David, I + am afraid your scheme is inadmissible. I say nothing against your friend, + Mr. Thomson: I know nothing against him; and if I did—mark this, Mr. + David!—it would be my duty to lay hands on him. Now I put it to you: + is it wise to meet? He may have matters to his charge. He may not have + told you all. His name may not be even Thomson!" cries the lawyer, + twinkling; "for some of these fellows will pick up names by the roadside + as another would gather haws." + </p> + <p> + "You must be the judge, sir," said I. + </p> + <p> + But it was clear my plan had taken hold upon his fancy, for he kept musing + to himself till we were called to dinner and the company of Mrs. + Rankeillor; and that lady had scarce left us again to ourselves and a + bottle of wine, ere he was back harping on my proposal. When and where was + I to meet my friend Mr. Thomson; was I sure of Mr. T.'s discretion; + supposing we could catch the old fox tripping, would I consent to such and + such a term of an agreement—these and the like questions he kept + asking at long intervals, while he thoughtfully rolled his wine upon his + tongue. When I had answered all of them, seemingly to his contentment, he + fell into a still deeper muse, even the claret being now forgotten. Then + he got a sheet of paper and a pencil, and set to work writing and weighing + every word; and at last touched a bell and had his clerk into the chamber. + </p> + <p> + "Torrance," said he, "I must have this written out fair against to-night; + and when it is done, you will be so kind as put on your hat and be ready + to come along with this gentleman and me, for you will probably be wanted + as a witness." + </p> + <p> + "What, sir," cried I, as soon as the clerk was gone, "are you to venture + it?" + </p> + <p> + "Why, so it would appear," says he, filling his glass. "But let us speak + no more of business. The very sight of Torrance brings in my head a little + droll matter of some years ago, when I had made a tryst with the poor oaf + at the cross of Edinburgh. Each had gone his proper errand; and when it + came four o'clock, Torrance had been taking a glass and did not know his + master, and I, who had forgot my spectacles, was so blind without them, + that I give you my word I did not know my own clerk." And thereupon he + laughed heartily. + </p> + <p> + I said it was an odd chance, and smiled out of politeness; but what held + me all the afternoon in wonder, he kept returning and dwelling on this + story, and telling it again with fresh details and laughter; so that I + began at last to be quite put out of countenance and feel ashamed for my + friend's folly. + </p> + <p> + Towards the time I had appointed with Alan, we set out from the house, Mr. + Rankeillor and I arm in arm, and Torrance following behind with the deed + in his pocket and a covered basket in his hand. All through the town, the + lawyer was bowing right and left, and continually being button-holed by + gentlemen on matters of burgh or private business; and I could see he was + one greatly looked up to in the county. At last we were clear of the + houses, and began to go along the side of the haven and towards the Hawes + Inn and the Ferry pier, the scene of my misfortune. I could not look upon + the place without emotion, recalling how many that had been there with me + that day were now no more: Ransome taken, I could hope, from the evil to + come; Shuan passed where I dared not follow him; and the poor souls that + had gone down with the brig in her last plunge. All these, and the brig + herself, I had outlived; and come through these hardships and fearful + perils without scath. My only thought should have been of gratitude; and + yet I could not behold the place without sorrow for others and a chill of + recollected fear. + </p> + <p> + I was so thinking when, upon a sudden, Mr. Rankeillor cried out, clapped + his hand to his pockets, and began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + "Why," he cries, "if this be not a farcical adventure! After all that I + said, I have forgot my glasses!" + </p> + <p> + At that, of course, I understood the purpose of his anecdote, and knew + that if he had left his spectacles at home, it had been done on purpose, + so that he might have the benefit of Alan's help without the awkwardness + of recognising him. And indeed it was well thought upon; for now (suppose + things to go the very worst) how could Rankeillor swear to my friend's + identity, or how be made to bear damaging evidence against myself? For all + that, he had been a long while of finding out his want, and had spoken to + and recognised a good few persons as we came through the town; and I had + little doubt myself that he saw reasonably well. + </p> + <p> + As soon as we were past the Hawes (where I recognised the landlord smoking + his pipe in the door, and was amazed to see him look no older) Mr. + Rankeillor changed the order of march, walking behind with Torrance and + sending me forward in the manner of a scout. I went up the hill, whistling + from time to time my Gaelic air; and at length I had the pleasure to hear + it answered and to see Alan rise from behind a bush. He was somewhat + dashed in spirits, having passed a long day alone skulking in the county, + and made but a poor meal in an alehouse near Dundas. But at the mere sight + of my clothes, he began to brighten up; and as soon as I had told him in + what a forward state our matters were and the part I looked to him to play + in what remained, he sprang into a new man. + </p> + <p> + "And that is a very good notion of yours," says he; "and I dare to say + that you could lay your hands upon no better man to put it through than + Alan Breck. It is not a thing (mark ye) that any one could do, but takes a + gentleman of penetration. But it sticks in my head your lawyer-man will be + somewhat wearying to see me," says Alan. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly I cried and waved on Mr. Rankeillor, who came up alone and was + presented to my friend, Mr. Thomson. + </p> + <p> + "Mr. Thomson, I am pleased to meet you," said he. "But I have forgotten my + glasses; and our friend, Mr. David here" (clapping me on the shoulder), + "will tell you that I am little better than blind, and that you must not + be surprised if I pass you by to-morrow." + </p> + <p> + This he said, thinking that Alan would be pleased; but the Highlandman's + vanity was ready to startle at a less matter than that. + </p> + <p> + "Why, sir," says he, stiffly, "I would say it mattered the less as we are + met here for a particular end, to see justice done to Mr. Balfour; and by + what I can see, not very likely to have much else in common. But I accept + your apology, which was a very proper one to make." + </p> + <p> + "And that is more than I could look for, Mr. Thomson," said Rankeillor, + heartily. "And now as you and I are the chief actors in this enterprise, I + think we should come into a nice agreement; to which end, I propose that + you should lend me your arm, for (what with the dusk and the want of my + glasses) I am not very clear as to the path; and as for you, Mr. David, + you will find Torrance a pleasant kind of body to speak with. Only let me + remind you, it's quite needless he should hear more of your adventures or + those of—ahem—Mr. Thomson." + </p> + <p> + Accordingly these two went on ahead in very close talk, and Torrance and I + brought up the rear. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0309m.jpg" alt="0309m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0309.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Night was quite come when we came in view of the house of Shaws. Ten had + been gone some time; it was dark and mild, with a pleasant, rustling wind + in the south-west that covered the sound of our approach; and as we drew + near we saw no glimmer of light in any portion of the building. It seemed + my uncle was already in bed, which was indeed the best thing for our + arrangements. We made our last whispered consultations some fifty yards + away; and then the lawyer and Torrance and I crept quietly up and crouched + down beside the corner of the house; and as soon as we were in our places, + Alan strode to the door without concealment and began to knock. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0312m.jpg" alt="0312m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0312.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX + </h2> + <h3> + I COME INTO MY KINGDOM + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9312m.jpg" alt="9312m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9312.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + or some time Alan volleyed upon the door, and his knocking only roused + the echoes of the house and neighbourhood. At last, however, I could hear + the noise of a window gently thrust up, and knew that my uncle had come to + his observatory. By what light there was, he would see Alan standing, like + a dark shadow, on the steps; the three witnesses were hidden quite out of + his view; so that there was nothing to alarm an honest man in his own + house. For all that, he studied his visitor awhile in silence, and when he + spoke his voice had a quaver of misgiving. + </p> + <p> + "What's this?" says he. "This is nae kind of time of night for decent + folk; and I hae nae trokings* wi' night-hawks. What brings ye here? I have + a blunderbush." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Dealings. +</pre> + <p> + "Is that yoursel', Mr. Balfour?" returned Alan, stepping back and looking + up into the darkness. "Have a care of that blunderbuss; they're nasty + things to burst." + </p> + <p> + "What brings ye here? and whae are ye?" says my uncle, angrily. + </p> + <p> + "I have no manner of inclination to rowt out my name to the country-side," + said Alan; "but what brings me here is another story, being more of your + affair than mine; and if ye're sure it's what ye would like, I'll set it + to a tune and sing it to you." + </p> + <p> + "And what is't?" asked my uncle. + </p> + <p> + "David," says Alan. + </p> + <p> + "What was that?" cried my uncle, in a mighty changed voice. + </p> + <p> + "Shall I give ye the rest of the name, then?" said Alan. + </p> + <p> + There was a pause; and then, "I'm thinking I'll better let ye in," says my + uncle, doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + "I dare say that," said Alan; "but the point is, Would I go? Now I will + tell you what I am thinking. I am thinking that it is here upon this + doorstep that we must confer upon this business; and it shall be here or + nowhere at all whatever; for I would have you to understand that I am as + stiffnecked as yoursel', and a gentleman of better family." + </p> + <p> + This change of note disconcerted Ebenezer; he was a little while digesting + it, and then says he, "Weel, weel, what must be must," and shut the + window. But it took him a long time to get down-stairs, and a still longer + to undo the fastenings, repenting (I dare say) and taken with fresh claps + of fear at every second step and every bolt and bar. At last, however, we + heard the creak of the hinges, and it seems my uncle slipped gingerly out + and (seeing that Alan had stepped back a pace or two) sate him down on the + top doorstep with the blunderbuss ready in his hands. + </p> + <p> + "And, now" says he, "mind I have my blunderbush, and if ye take a step + nearer ye're as good as deid." + </p> + <p> + "And a very civil speech," says Alan, "to be sure." + </p> + <p> + "Na," says my uncle, "but this is no a very chanty kind of a proceeding, + and I'm bound to be prepared. And now that we understand each other, ye'll + can name your business." + </p> + <p> + "Why," says Alan, "you that are a man of so much understanding, will + doubtless have perceived that I am a Hieland gentleman. My name has nae + business in my story; but the county of my friends is no very far from the + Isle of Mull, of which ye will have heard. It seems there was a ship lost + in those parts; and the next day a gentleman of my family was seeking + wreck-wood for his fire along the sands, when he came upon a lad that was + half drowned. Well, he brought him to; and he and some other gentleman + took and clapped him in an auld, ruined castle, where from that day to + this he has been a great expense to my friends. My friends are a wee + wild-like, and not so particular about the law as some that I could name; + and finding that the lad owned some decent folk, and was your born nephew, + Mr. Balfour, they asked me to give ye a bit call and confer upon the + matter. And I may tell ye at the off-go, unless we can agree upon some + terms, ye are little likely to set eyes upon him. For my friends," added + Alan, simply, "are no very well off." + </p> + <p> + My uncle cleared his throat. "I'm no very caring," says he. "He wasnae a + good lad at the best of it, and I've nae call to interfere." + </p> + <p> + "Ay, ay," said Alan, "I see what ye would be at: pretending ye don't care, + to make the ransom smaller." + </p> + <p> + "Na," said my uncle, "it's the mere truth. I take nae manner of interest + in the lad, and I'll pay nae ransome, and ye can make a kirk and a mill of + him for what I care." + </p> + <p> + "Hoot, sir," says Alan. "Blood's thicker than water, in the deil's name! + Ye cannae desert your brother's son for the fair shame of it; and if ye + did, and it came to be kennt, ye wouldnae be very popular in your + country-side, or I'm the more deceived." + </p> + <p> + "I'm no just very popular the way it is," returned Ebenezer; "and I dinnae + see how it would come to be kennt. No by me, onyway; nor yet by you or + your friends. So that's idle talk, my buckie," says he. + </p> + <p> + "Then it'll have to be David that tells it," said Alan. + </p> + <p> + "How that?" says my uncle, sharply. + </p> + <p> + "Ou, just this way," says Alan. "My friends would doubtless keep your + nephew as long as there was any likelihood of siller to be made of it, but + if there was nane, I am clearly of opinion they would let him gang where + he pleased, and be damned to him!" + </p> + <p> + "Ay, but I'm no very caring about that either," said my uncle. "I wouldnae + be muckle made up with that." + </p> + <p> + "I was thinking that," said Alan. + </p> + <p> + "And what for why?" asked Ebenezer. + </p> + <p> + "Why, Mr. Balfour," replied Alan, "by all that I could hear, there were + two ways of it: either ye liked David and would pay to get him back; or + else ye had very good reasons for not wanting him, and would pay for us to + keep him. It seems it's not the first; well then, it's the second; and + blythe am I to ken it, for it should be a pretty penny in my pocket and + the pockets of my friends." + </p> + <p> + "I dinnae follow ye there," said my uncle. + </p> + <p> + "No?" said Alan. "Well, see here: you dinnae want the lad back; well, what + do ye want done with him, and how much will ye pay?" + </p> + <p> + My uncle made no answer, but shifted uneasily on his seat. + </p> + <p> + "Come, sir," cried Alan. "I would have you to ken that I am a gentleman; I + bear a king's name; I am nae rider to kick my shanks at your hall door. + Either give me an answer in civility, and that out of hand; or by the top + of Glencoe, I will ram three feet of iron through your vitals." + </p> + <p> + "Eh, man," cried my uncle, scrambling to his feet, "give me a meenit! + What's like wrong with ye? I'm just a plain man and nae dancing master; + and I'm tryin to be as ceevil as it's morally possible. As for that wild + talk, it's fair disrepitable. Vitals, says you! And where would I be with + my blunderbush?" he snarled. + </p> + <p> + "Powder and your auld hands are but as the snail to the swallow against + the bright steel in the hands of Alan," said the other. "Before your + jottering finger could find the trigger, the hilt would dirl on your + breast-bane." + </p> + <p> + "Eh, man, whae's denying it?" said my uncle. "Pit it as ye please, hae't + your ain way; I'll do naething to cross ye. Just tell me what like ye'll + be wanting, and ye'll see that we'll can agree fine." + </p> + <p> + "Troth, sir," said Alan, "I ask for nothing but plain dealing. In two + words: do ye want the lad killed or kept?" + </p> + <p> + "O, sirs!" cried Ebenezer. "O, sirs, me! that's no kind of language!" + </p> + <p> + "Killed or kept!" repeated Alan. + </p> + <p> + "O, keepit, keepit!" wailed my uncle. "We'll have nae bloodshed, if you + please." + </p> + <p> + "Well," says Alan, "as ye please; that'll be the dearer." + </p> + <p> + "The dearer?" cries Ebenezer. "Would ye fyle your hands wi' crime?" + </p> + <p> + "Hoot!" said Alan, "they're baith crime, whatever! And the killing's + easier, and quicker, and surer. Keeping the lad'll be a fashious* job, a + fashious, kittle business." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Troublesome. +</pre> + <p> + "I'll have him keepit, though," returned my uncle. "I never had naething + to do with onything morally wrong; and I'm no gaun to begin to pleasure a + wild Hielandman." + </p> + <p> + "Ye're unco scrupulous," sneered Alan. + </p> + <p> + "I'm a man o' principle," said Ebenezer, simply; "and if I have to pay for + it, I'll have to pay for it. And besides," says he, "ye forget the lad's + my brother's son." + </p> + <p> + "Well, well," said Alan, "and now about the price. It's no very easy for + me to set a name upon it; I would first have to ken some small matters. I + would have to ken, for instance, what ye gave Hoseason at the first + off-go?" + </p> + <p> + "Hoseason!" cries my uncle, struck aback. "What for?" + </p> + <p> + "For kidnapping David," says Alan. + </p> + <p> + "It's a lee, it's a black lee!" cried my uncle. "He was never kidnapped. + He leed in his throat that tauld ye that. Kidnapped? He never was!" + </p> + <p> + "That's no fault of mine nor yet of yours," said Alan; "nor yet of + Hoseason's, if he's a man that can be trusted." + </p> + <p> + "What do ye mean?" cried Ebenezer. "Did Hoseason tell ye?" + </p> + <p> + "Why, ye donnered auld runt, how else would I ken?" cried Alan. "Hoseason + and me are partners; we gang shares; so ye can see for yoursel' what good + ye can do leeing. And I must plainly say ye drove a fool's bargain when ye + let a man like the sailor-man so far forward in your private matters. But + that's past praying for; and ye must lie on your bed the way ye made it. + And the point in hand is just this: what did ye pay him?" + </p> + <p> + "Has he tauld ye himsel'?" asked my uncle. + </p> + <p> + "That's my concern," said Alan. + </p> + <p> + "Weel," said my uncle, "I dinnae care what he said, he leed, and the + solemn God's truth is this, that I gave him twenty pound. But I'll be + perfec'ly honest with ye: forby that, he was to have the selling of the + lad in Caroliny, whilk would be as muckle mair, but no from my pocket, ye + see." + </p> + <p> + "Thank you, Mr. Thomson. That will do excellently well," said the lawyer, + stepping forward; and then mighty civilly, "Good-evening, Mr. Balfour," + said he. + </p> + <p> + And, "Good-evening, Uncle Ebenezer," said I. + </p> + <p> + And, "It's a braw nicht, Mr. Balfour," added Torrance. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0317m.jpg" alt="0317m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0317.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Never a word said my uncle, neither black nor white; but just sat where he + was on the top door-step and stared upon us like a man turned to stone. + Alan filched away his blunderbuss; and the lawyer, taking him by the arm, + plucked him up from the doorstep, led him into the kitchen, whither we all + followed, and set him down in a chair beside the hearth, where the fire + was out and only a rush-light burning. + </p> + <p> + There we all looked upon him for a while, exulting greatly in our success, + but yet with a sort of pity for the man's shame. + </p> + <p> + "Come, come, Mr. Ebenezer," said the lawyer, "you must not be + down-hearted, for I promise you we shall make easy terms. In the meanwhile + give us the cellar key, and Torrance shall draw us a bottle of your + father's wine in honour of the event." Then, turning to me and taking me + by the hand, "Mr. David," says he, "I wish you all joy in your good + fortune, which I believe to be deserved." And then to Alan, with a spice + of drollery, "Mr. Thomson, I pay you my compliment; it was most artfully + conducted; but in one point you somewhat outran my comprehension. Do I + understand your name to be James? or Charles? or is it George, perhaps?" + </p> + <p> + "And why should it be any of the three, sir?" quoth Alan, drawing himself + up, like one who smelt an offence. + </p> + <p> + "Only, sir, that you mentioned a king's name," replied Rankeillor; "and as + there has never yet been a King Thomson, or his fame at least has never + come my way, I judged you must refer to that you had in baptism." + </p> + <p> + This was just the stab that Alan would feel keenest, and I am free to + confess he took it very ill. Not a word would he answer, but stepped off + to the far end of the kitchen, and sat down and sulked; and it was not + till I stepped after him, and gave him my hand, and thanked him by title + as the chief spring of my success, that he began to smile a bit, and was + at last prevailed upon to join our party. + </p> + <p> + By that time we had the fire lighted, and a bottle of wine uncorked; a + good supper came out of the basket, to which Torrance and I and Alan set + ourselves down; while the lawyer and my uncle passed into the next chamber + to consult. They stayed there closeted about an hour; at the end of which + period they had come to a good understanding, and my uncle and I set our + hands to the agreement in a formal manner. By the terms of this, my uncle + bound himself to satisfy Rankeillor as to his intromissions, and to pay me + two clear thirds of the yearly income of Shaws. + </p> + <p> + So the beggar in the ballad had come home; and when I lay down that night + on the kitchen chests, I was a man of means and had a name in the country. + Alan and Torrance and Rankeillor slept and snored on their hard beds; but + for me who had lain out under heaven and upon dirt and stones, so many + days and nights, and often with an empty belly, and in fear of death, this + good change in my case unmanned me more than any of the former evil ones; + and I lay till dawn, looking at the fire on the roof and planning the + future. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0322m.jpg" alt="0322m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0322.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX + </h2> + <h3> + GOOD-BYE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9322m.jpg" alt="9322m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9322.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </div> + <p> + o far as I was concerned myself, I had come to port; but I had still + Alan, to whom I was so much beholden, on my hands; and I felt besides a + heavy charge in the matter of the murder and James of the Glens. On both + these heads I unbosomed to Rankeillor the next morning, walking to and fro + about six of the clock before the house of Shaws, and with nothing in view + but the fields and woods that had been my ancestors' and were now mine. + Even as I spoke on these grave subjects, my eye would take a glad bit of a + run over the prospect, and my heart jump with pride. + </p> + <p> + About my clear duty to my friend, the lawyer had no doubt. I must help him + out of the county at whatever risk; but in the case of James, he was of a + different mind. + </p> + <p> + "Mr. Thomson," says he, "is one thing, Mr. Thomson's kinsman quite + another. I know little of the facts, but I gather that a great noble (whom + we will call, if you like, the D. of A.)* has some concern and is even + supposed to feel some animosity in the matter. The D. of A. is doubtless + an excellent nobleman; but, Mr. David, timeo qui nocuere deos. If you + interfere to balk his vengeance, you should remember there is one way to + shut your testimony out; and that is to put you in the dock. There, you + would be in the same pickle as Mr. Thomson's kinsman. You will object that + you are innocent; well, but so is he. And to be tried for your life before + a Highland jury, on a Highland quarrel and with a Highland Judge upon the + bench, would be a brief transition to the gallows." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * The Duke of Argyle. +</pre> + <p> + Now I had made all these reasonings before and found no very good reply to + them; so I put on all the simplicity I could. "In that case, sir," said I, + "I would just have to be hanged—would I not?" + </p> + <p> + "My dear boy," cries he, "go in God's name, and do what you think is + right. It is a poor thought that at my time of life I should be advising + you to choose the safe and shameful; and I take it back with an apology. + Go and do your duty; and be hanged, if you must, like a gentleman. There + are worse things in the world than to be hanged." + </p> + <p> + "Not many, sir," said I, smiling. + </p> + <p> + "Why, yes, sir," he cried, "very many. And it would be ten times better + for your uncle (to go no farther afield) if he were dangling decently upon + a gibbet." + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he turned into the house (still in a great fervour of mind, so + that I saw I had pleased him heartily) and there he wrote me two letters, + making his comments on them as he wrote. + </p> + <p> + "This," says he, "is to my bankers, the British Linen Company, placing a + credit to your name. Consult Mr. Thomson, he will know of ways; and you, + with this credit, can supply the means. I trust you will be a good husband + of your money; but in the affair of a friend like Mr. Thomson, I would be + even prodigal. Then for his kinsman, there is no better way than that you + should seek the Advocate, tell him your tale, and offer testimony; whether + he may take it or not, is quite another matter, and will turn on the D. of + A. Now, that you may reach the Lord Advocate well recommended, I give you + here a letter to a namesake of your own, the learned Mr. Balfour of + Pilrig, a man whom I esteem. It will look better that you should be + presented by one of your own name; and the laird of Pilrig is much looked + up to in the Faculty and stands well with Lord Advocate Grant. I would not + trouble him, if I were you, with any particulars; and (do you know?) I + think it would be needless to refer to Mr. Thomson. Form yourself upon the + laird, he is a good model; when you deal with the Advocate, be discreet; + and in all these matters, may the Lord guide you, Mr. David!" + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he took his farewell, and set out with Torrance for the Ferry, + while Alan and I turned our faces for the city of Edinburgh. As we went by + the footpath and beside the gateposts and the unfinished lodge, we kept + looking back at the house of my fathers. It stood there, bare and great + and smokeless, like a place not lived in; only in one of the top windows, + there was the peak of a nightcap bobbing up and down and back and forward, + like the head of a rabbit from a burrow. I had little welcome when I came, + and less kindness while I stayed; but at least I was watched as I went + away. + </p> + <p> + Alan and I went slowly forward upon our way, having little heart either to + walk or speak. The same thought was uppermost in both, that we were near + the time of our parting; and remembrance of all the bygone days sate upon + us sorely. We talked indeed of what should be done; and it was resolved + that Alan should keep to the county, biding now here, now there, but + coming once in the day to a particular place where I might be able to + communicate with him, either in my own person or by messenger. In the + meanwhile, I was to seek out a lawyer, who was an Appin Stewart, and a man + therefore to be wholly trusted; and it should be his part to find a ship + and to arrange for Alan's safe embarkation. No sooner was this business + done, than the words seemed to leave us; and though I would seek to jest + with Alan under the name of Mr. Thomson, and he with me on my new clothes + and my estate, you could feel very well that we were nearer tears than + laughter. + </p> + <p> + We came the by-way over the hill of Corstorphine; and when we got near to + the place called Rest-and-be-Thankful, and looked down on Corstorphine + bogs and over to the city and the castle on the hill, we both stopped, for + we both knew without a word said that we had come to where our ways + parted. Here he repeated to me once again what had been agreed upon + between us: the address of the lawyer, the daily hour at which Alan might + be found, and the signals that were to be made by any that came seeking + him. Then I gave what money I had (a guinea or two of Rankeillor's) so + that he should not starve in the meanwhile; and then we stood a space, and + looked over at Edinburgh in silence. + </p> + <p> + "Well, good-bye," said Alan, and held out his left hand. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0325m.jpg" alt="0325m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0325.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + "Good-bye," said I, and gave the hand a little grasp, and went off down + hill. + </p> + <p> + Neither one of us looked the other in the face, nor so long as he was in + my view did I take one back glance at the friend I was leaving. But as I + went on my way to the city, I felt so lost and lonesome, that I could have + found it in my heart to sit down by the dyke, and cry and weep like any + baby. + </p> + <p> + It was coming near noon when I passed in by the West Kirk and the + Grassmarket into the streets of the capital. The huge height of the + buildings, running up to ten and fifteen storeys, the narrow arched + entries that continually vomited passengers, the wares of the merchants in + their windows, the hubbub and endless stir, the foul smells and the fine + clothes, and a hundred other particulars too small to mention, struck me + into a kind of stupor of surprise, so that I let the crowd carry me to and + fro; and yet all the time what I was thinking of was Alan at + Rest-and-be-Thankful; and all the time (although you would think I would + not choose but be delighted with these braws and novelties) there was a + cold gnawing in my inside like a remorse for something wrong. + </p> + <p> + The hand of Providence brought me in my drifting to the very doors of the + British Linen Company's bank. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Kidnapped, by Robert Louis Stevenson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KIDNAPPED *** + +***** This file should be named 421-h.htm or 421-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/421/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +KIDNAPPED +BEING +MEMOIRS OF THE ADVENTURES OF +DAVID BALFOUR +IN THE YEAR 1751 + + + +HOW HE WAS KIDNAPPED AND CAST AWAY; HIS SUFFERINGS IN + A DESERT ISLE; HIS JOURNEY IN THE WILD HIGHLANDS; + HIS ACQUAINTANCE WITH ALAN BRECK STEWART + AND OTHER NOTORIOUS HIGHLAND JACOBITES; + WITH ALL THAT HE SUFFERED AT THE + HANDS OF HIS UNCLE, EBENEZER + BALFOUR OF SHAWS, FALSELY + SO CALLED + + WRITTEN BY HIMSELF AND NOW SET FORTH BY + ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON + WITH A PREFACE BY MRS. STEVENSON + + + + +PREFACE +TO +THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION + +While my husband and Mr. Henley were engaged in writing plays in +Bournemouth they made a number of titles, hoping to use them in +the future. Dramatic composition was not what my husband +preferred, but the torrent of Mr. Henley's enthusiasm swept him +off his feet. However, after several plays had been finished, +and his health seriously impaired by his endeavours to keep up +with Mr. Henley, play writing was abandoned forever, and my +husband returned to his legitimate vocation. Having added one of +the titles, The Hanging Judge, to the list of projected plays, +now thrown aside, and emboldened by my husband's offer to give me +any help needed, I concluded to try and write it myself. + +As I wanted a trial scene in the Old Bailey, I chose the period +of 1700 for my purpose; but being shamefully ignorant of my +subject, and my husband confessing to little more knowledge than +I possessed, a London bookseller was commissioned to send us +everything he could procure bearing on Old Bailey trials. A +great package came in response to our order, and very soon we +were both absorbed, not so much in the trials as in following the +brilliant career of a Mr. Garrow, who appeared as counsel in many +of the cases. We sent for more books, and yet more, still intent +on Mr. Garrow, whose subtle cross-examination of witnesses and +masterly, if sometimes startling, methods of arriving at the +truth seemed more thrilling to us than any novel. + +Occasionally other trials than those of the Old Bailey would be +included in the package of books we received from London; among +these my husband found and read with avidity:-- + + +THE +TRIAL +OF +JAMES STEWART +in Aucharn in Duror of Appin +FOR THE +Murder of COLIN CAMPBELL of Glenure, Efq; +Factor for His Majefty on the forfeited +Estate of Ardfhiel. + + +My husband was always interested in this period of his country's +history, and had already the intention of writing a story that +should turn on the Appin murder. The tale was to be of a boy, +David Balfour, supposed to belong to my husband's own family, who +should travel in Scotland as though it were a foreign country, +meeting with various adventures and misadventures by the way. +From the trial of James Stewart my husband gleaned much valuable +material for his novel, the most important being the character of +Alan Breck. Aside from having described him as "smallish in +stature," my husband seems to have taken Alan Breck's personal +appearance, even to his clothing, from the book. + +A letter from James Stewart to Mr. John Macfarlane, introduced as +evidence in the trial, says: "There is one Alan Stewart, a +distant friend of the late Ardshiel's, who is in the French +service, and came over in March last, as he said to some, in +order to settle at home; to others, that he was to go soon back; +and was, as I hear, the day that the murder was committed, seen +not far from the place where it happened, and is not now to be +seen; by which it is believed he was the actor. He is a +desperate foolish fellow; and if he is guilty, came to the +country for that very purpose. He is a tall, pock-pitted lad, +very black hair, and wore a blue coat and metal buttons, an old +red vest, and breeches of the same colour." A second witness +testified to having seen him wearing "a blue coat with silver +buttons, a red waistcoat, black shag breeches, tartan hose, and a +feathered hat, with a big coat, dun coloured," a costume referred +to by one of the counsel as "French cloathes which were +remarkable." + +There are many incidents given in the trial that point to Alan's +fiery spirit and Highland quickness to take offence. One witness +"declared also That the said Alan Breck threatened that he would +challenge Ballieveolan and his sons to fight because of his +removing the declarant last year from Glenduror." On another +page: "Duncan Campbell, change-keeper at Annat, aged thirty-five +years, married, witness cited, sworn, purged and examined ut +supra, depones, That, in the month of April last, the deponent +met with Alan Breck Stewart, with whom he was not acquainted, and +John Stewart, in Auchnacoan, in the house of the walk miller of +Auchofragan, and went on with them to the house: Alan Breck +Stewart said, that he hated all the name of Campbell; and the +deponent said, he had no reason for doing so: But Alan said, he +had very good reason for it: that thereafter they left that +house; and, after drinking a dram at another house, came to the +deponent's house, where they went in, and drunk some drams, and +Alan Breck renewed the former Conversation; and the deponent, +making the same answer, Alan said, that, if the deponent had any +respect for his friends, he would tell them, that if they offered +to turn out the possessors of Ardshiel's estate, he would make +black cocks of them, before they entered into possession by which +the deponent understood shooting them, it being a common phrase +in the country." + +Some time after the publication of Kidnapped we stopped for a +short while in the Appin country, where we were surprised and +interested to discover that the feeling concerning the murder of +Glenure (the "Red Fox," also called "Colin Roy") was almost as +keen as though the tragedy had taken place the day before. For +several years my husband received letters of expostulation or +commendation from members of the Campbell and Stewart clans. I +have in my possession a paper, yellow with age, that was sent +soon after the novel appeared, containing "The Pedigree of the +Family of Appine," wherein it is said that "Alan 3rd Baron of +Appine was not killed at Flowdoun, tho there, but lived to a +great old age. He married Cameron Daughter to Ewen Cameron of +Lochiel." Following this is a paragraph stating that "John +Stewart 1st of Ardsheall of his descendants Alan Breck had better +be omitted. Duncan Baan Stewart in Achindarroch his father was a +Bastard." + +One day, while my husband was busily at work, I sat beside him +reading an old cookery book called The Compleat Housewife: or +Accomplish'd Gentlewoman's Companion. In the midst of receipts +for "Rabbits, and Chickens mumbled, Pickled Samphire, Skirret +Pye, Baked Tansy," and other forgotten delicacies, there were +directions for the preparation of several lotions for the +preservation of beauty. One of these was so charming that I +interrupted my husband to read it aloud. "Just what I wanted!" +he exclaimed; and the receipt for the "Lily of the Valley Water" +was instantly incorporated into Kidnapped. + +F. V. DE G. S. + + + + +DEDICATION + +MY DEAR CHARLES BAXTER: + + +If you ever read this tale, you will likely ask yourself more +questions than I should care to answer: as for instance how the +Appin murder has come to fall in the year 1751, how the Torran +rocks have crept so near to Earraid, or why the printed trial is +silent as to all that touches David Balfour. These are nuts +beyond my ability to crack. But if you tried me on the point of +Alan's guilt or innocence, I think I could defend the reading of +the text. To this day you will find the tradition of Appin clear +in Alan's favour. If you inquire, you may even hear that the +descendants of "the other man" who fired the shot are in the +country to this day. But that other man's name, inquire as you +please, you shall not hear; for the Highlander values a secret +for itself and for the congenial exercise of keeping it I might +go on for long to justify one point and own another indefensible; +it is more honest to confess at once how little I am touched by +the desire of accuracy. This is no furniture for the scholar's +library, but a book for the winter evening school-room when the +tasks are over and the hour for bed draws near; and honest Alan, +who was a grim old fire-eater in his day has in this new avatar +no more desperate purpose than to steal some young gentleman's +attention from his Ovid, carry him awhile into the Highlands and +the last century, and pack him to bed with some engaging images +to mingle with his dreams. + +As for you, my dear Charles, I do not even ask you to like this +tale. But perhaps when he is older, your son will; he may then +be pleased to find his father's name on the fly-leaf; and in the +meanwhile it pleases me to set it there, in memory of many days +that were happy and some (now perhaps as pleasant to remember) +that were sad. If it is strange for me to look back from a +distance both in time and space on these bygone adventures of our +youth, it must be stranger for you who tread the same +streets--who may to-morrow open the door of the old Speculative, +where we begin to rank with Scott and Robert Emmet and the +beloved and inglorious Macbean--or may pass the corner of the +close where that great society, the L. J. R., held its meetings +and drank its beer, sitting in the seats of Burns and his +companions. I think I see you, moving there by plain daylight, +beholding with your natural eyes those places that have now +become for your companion a part of the scenery of dreams. How, +in the intervals of present business, the past must echo in your +memory! Let it not echo often without some kind thoughts of your +friend, + +R.L.S. +SKERRYVORE, +BOURNEMOUTH. + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + +I I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS +II I COME TO MY JOURNEY'S END +III I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE +IV I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS +V I GO TO THE QUEEN'S FERRY +VI WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN'S FERRY +VII I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG "COVENANT" OF DYSART +VIII THE ROUND-HOUSE +IX THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD +X THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE +XI THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER +XII I HEAR OF THE "RED FOX" +XIII THE LOSS OF THE BRIG +XIV THE ISLET +XV THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL +XVI THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN +XVII THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX +XVIIII TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE +XIX THE HOUSE OF FEAR +XX THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS +XXI THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH +XXII THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR +XXIII CLUNY'S CAGE +XXIV THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE QUARREL IN BALQUHIDDER +XXVI END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH +XXVII I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR +XXVIII I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE +XXIX I COME INTO MY KINGDOM +XXX GOOD-BYE + + + +CHAPTER I + +I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + +I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning +early in the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took +the key for the last time out of the door of my father's house. +The sun began to shine upon the summit of the hills as I went +down the road; and by the time I had come as far as the manse, +the blackbirds were whistling in the garden lilacs, and the mist +that hung around the valley in the time of the dawn was beginning +to arise and die away. + +Mr. Campbell, the minister of Essendean, was waiting for me by +the garden gate, good man! He asked me if I had breakfasted; and +hearing that I lacked for nothing, he took my hand in both of his +and clapped it kindly under his arm. + +"Well, Davie, lad," said he, "I will go with you as far as the +ford, to set you on the way." And we began to walk forward in +silence. + +"Are ye sorry to leave Essendean?" said he, after awhile. + +"Why, sir," said I, "if I knew where I was going, or what was +likely to become of me, I would tell you candidly. Essendean is +a good place indeed, and I have been very happy there; but then I +have never been anywhere else. My father and mother, since they +are both dead, I shall be no nearer to in Essendean than in the +Kingdom of Hungary, and, to speak truth, if I thought I had a +chance to better myself where I was going I would go with a good +will." + +"Ay?" said Mr. Campbell. "Very well, Davie. Then it behoves me +to tell your fortune; or so far as I may. When your mother was +gone, and your father (the worthy, Christian man) began to sicken +for his end, he gave me in charge a certain letter, which he said +was your inheritance. 'So soon,' says he, 'as I am gone, and the +house is redd up and the gear disposed of' (all which, Davie, +hath been done), 'give my boy this letter into his hand, and +start him off to the house of Shaws, not far from Cramond. That +is the place I came from,' he said, 'and it's where it befits +that my boy should return. He is a steady lad,' your father +said, 'and a canny goer; and I doubt not he will come safe, and +be well lived where he goes.'" + +"The house of Shaws!" I cried. "What had my poor father to do +with the house of Shaws?" + +"Nay," said Mr. Campbell, "who can tell that for a surety? But +the name of that family, Davie, boy, is the name you bear -- +Balfours of Shaws: an ancient, honest, reputable house, +peradventure in these latter days decayed. Your father, too, was +a man of learning as befitted his position; no man more plausibly +conducted school; nor had he the manner or the speech of a common +dominie; but (as ye will yourself remember) I took aye a pleasure +to have him to the manse to meet the gentry; and those of my own +house, Campbell of Kilrennet, Campbell of Dunswire, Campbell of +Minch, and others, all well-kenned gentlemen, had pleasure in his +society. Lastly, to put all the elements of this affair before +you, here is the testamentary letter itself, superscrived by the +own hand of our departed brother." + +He gave me the letter, which was addressed in these words: "To +the hands of Ebenezer Balfour, Esquire, of Shaws, in his house of +Shaws, these will be delivered by my son, David Balfour." My +heart was beating hard at this great prospect now suddenly +opening before a lad of seventeen years of age, the son of a poor +country dominie in the Forest of Ettrick. + +"Mr. Campbell," I stammered, "and if you were in my shoes, would +you go?" + +"Of a surety," said the minister, "that would I, and without +pause. A pretty lad like you should get to Cramond (which is +near in by Edinburgh) in two days of walk. If the worst came to +the worst, and your high relations (as I cannot but suppose them +to be somewhat of your blood) should put you to the door, ye can +but walk the two days back again and risp at the manse door. But +I would rather hope that ye shall be well received, as your poor +father forecast for you, and for anything that I ken come to be a +great man in time. And here, Davie, laddie," he resumed, "it +lies near upon my conscience to improve this parting, and set you +on the right guard against the dangers of the world." + +Here he cast about for a comfortable seat, lighted on a big +boulder under a birch by the trackside, sate down upon it with a +very long, serious upper lip, and the sun now shining in upon us +between two peaks, put his pocket-handkerchief over his cocked +hat to shelter him. There, then, with uplifted forefinger, he +first put me on my guard against a considerable number of +heresies, to which I had no temptation, and urged upon me to be +instant in my prayers and reading of the Bible. That done, he +drew a picture of the great house that I was bound to, and how I +should conduct myself with its inhabitants. + +"Be soople, Davie, in things immaterial," said he. "Bear ye this +in mind, that, though gentle born, ye have had a country rearing. +Dinnae shame us, Davie, dinnae shame us! In yon great, muckle +house, with all these domestics, upper and under, show yourself +as nice, as circumspect, as quick at the conception, and as slow +of speech as any. As for the laird -- remember he's the laird; I +say no more: honour to whom honour. It's a pleasure to obey a +laird; or should be, to the young." + +"Well, sir," said I, "it may be; and I'll promise you I'll try to +make it so." + +"Why, very well said," replied Mr. Campbell, heartily. "And now +to come to the material, or (to make a quibble) to the +immaterial. I have here a little packet which contains four +things." He tugged it, as he spoke, and with some great +difficulty, from the skirt pocket of his coat. "Of these four +things, the first is your legal due: the little pickle money for +your father's books and plenishing, which I have bought (as I +have explained from the first) in the design of re-selling at a +profit to the incoming dominie. The other three are gifties that +Mrs. Campbell and myself would be blithe of your acceptance. The +first, which is round, will likely please ye best at the first +off-go; but, O Davie, laddie, it's but a drop of water in the +sea; it'll help you but a step, and vanish like the morning. The +second, which is flat and square and written upon, will stand by +you through life, like a good staff for the road, and a good +pillow to your head in sickness. And as for the last, which is +cubical, that'll see you, it's my prayerful wish, into a better +land." + +With that he got upon his feet, took off his hat, and prayed a +little while aloud, and in affecting terms, for a young man +setting out into the world; then suddenly took me in his arms and +embraced me very hard; then held me at arm's length, looking at +me with his face all working with sorrow; and then whipped about, +and crying good-bye to me, set off backward by the way that we +had come at a sort of jogging run. It might have been laughable +to another; but I was in no mind to laugh. I watched him as long +as he was in sight; and he never stopped hurrying, nor once +looked back. Then it came in upon my mind that this was all his +sorrow at my departure; and my conscience smote me hard and fast, +because I, for my part, was overjoyed to get away out of that +quiet country-side, and go to a great, busy house, among rich and +respected gentlefolk of my own name and blood. + +"Davie, Davie," I thought, "was ever seen such black ingratitude? +Can you forget old favours and old friends at the mere whistle of +a name? Fie, fie; think shame." + +And I sat down on the boulder the good man had just left, and +opened the parcel to see the nature of my gifts. That which he +had called cubical, I had never had much doubt of; sure enough it +was a little Bible, to carry in a plaid-neuk. That which he had +called round, I found to be a shilling piece; and the third, +which was to help me so wonderfully both in health and sickness +all the days of my life, was a little piece of coarse yellow +paper, written upon thus in red ink: + + +"TO MAKE LILLY OF THE VALLEY WATER.--Take the flowers of lilly of +the valley and distil them in sack, and drink a spooneful or two +as there is occasion. It restores speech to those that have the +dumb palsey. It is good against the Gout; it comforts the heart +and strengthens the memory; and the flowers, put into a Glasse, +close stopt, and set into ane hill of ants for a month, then take +it out, and you will find a liquor which comes from the flowers, +which keep in a vial; it is good, ill or well, and whether man or +woman." + + + +And then, in the minister's own hand, was added: + +"Likewise for sprains, rub it in; and for the cholic, a great +spooneful in the hour." + + +To be sure, I laughed over this; but it was rather tremulous +laughter; and I was glad to get my bundle on my staff's end and +set out over the ford and up the hill upon the farther side; +till, just as I came on the green drove-road running wide through +the heather, I took my last look of Kirk Essendean, the trees +about the manse, and the big rowans in the kirkyard where my +father and my mother lay. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +I COME TO MY JOURNEY'S END + +On the forenoon of the second day, coming to the top of a hill, I +saw all the country fall away before me down to the sea; and in +the midst of this descent, on a long ridge, the city of Edinburgh +smoking like a kiln. There was a flag upon the castle, and ships +moving or lying anchored in the firth; both of which, for as far +away as they were, I could distinguish clearly; and both brought +my country heart into my mouth. + +Presently after, I came by a house where a shepherd lived, and +got a rough direction for the neighbourhood of Cramond; and so, +from one to another, worked my way to the westward of the capital +by Colinton, till I came out upon the Glasgow road. And there, +to my great pleasure and wonder, I beheld a regiment marching to +the fifes, every foot in time; an old red-faced general on a grey +horse at the one end, and at the other the company of Grenadiers, +with their Pope's-hats. The pride of life seemed to mount into +my brain at the sight of the red coats and the hearing of that +merry music. + +A little farther on, and I was told I was in Cramond parish, and +began to substitute in my inquiries the name of the house of +Shaws. It was a word that seemed to surprise those of whom I +sought my way. At first I thought the plainness of my +appearance, in my country habit, and that all dusty from the +road, consorted ill with the greatness of the place to which I +was bound. But after two, or maybe three, had given me the same +look and the same answer, I began to take it in my head there was +something strange about the Shaws itself. + +The better to set this fear at rest, I changed the form of my +inquiries; and spying an honest fellow coming along a lane on the +shaft of his cart, I asked him if he had ever heard tell of a +house they called the house of Shaws. + +He stopped his cart and looked at me, like the others. + +"Ay" said he. "What for?" + +"It's a great house?" I asked. + +"Doubtless," says he. "The house is a big, muckle house." + +"Ay," said I, "but the folk that are in it?" + +"Folk?" cried he. "Are ye daft? There's nae folk there -- to +call folk." + +"What?" say I; "not Mr. Ebenezer?" + +"Ou, ay" says the man; "there's the laird, to be sure, if it's +him you're wanting. What'll like be your business, mannie?" + +"I was led to think that I would get a situation," I said, +looking as modest as I could. + +"What?" cries the carter, in so sharp a note that his very horse +started; and then, "Well, mannie," he added, "it's nane of my +affairs; but ye seem a decent-spoken lad; and if ye'll take a +word from me, ye'll keep clear of the Shaws." + +The next person I came across was a dapper little man in a +beautiful white wig, whom I saw to be a barber on his rounds; and +knowing well that barbers were great gossips, I asked him plainly +what sort of a man was Mr. Balfour of the Shaws. + +"Hoot, hoot, hoot," said the barber, "nae kind of a man, nae kind +of a man at all;" and began to ask me very shrewdly what my +business was; but I was more than a match for him at that, and he +went on to his next customer no wiser than he came. + +I cannot well describe the blow this dealt to my illusions. The +more indistinct the accusations were, the less I liked them, for +they left the wider field to fancy. What kind of a great house +was this, that all the parish should start and stare to be asked +the way to it? or what sort of a gentleman, that his ill-fame +should be thus current on the wayside? If an hour's walking would +have brought me back to Essendean, had left my adventure then and +there, and returned to Mr. Campbell's. But when I had come so +far a way already, mere shame would not suffer me to desist till +I had put the matter to the touch of proof; I was bound, out of +mere self-respect, to carry it through; and little as I liked the +sound of what I heard, and slow as I began to travel, I still +kept asking my way and still kept advancing. + +It was drawing on to sundown when I met a stout, dark, +sour-looking woman coming trudging down a hill; and she, when I +had put my usual question, turned sharp about, accompanied me +back to the summit she had just left, and pointed to a great bulk +of building standing very bare upon a green in the bottom of the +next valley. The country was pleasant round about, running in +low hills, pleasantly watered and wooded, and the crops, to my +eyes, wonderfully good; but the house itself appeared to be a +kind of ruin; no road led up to it; no smoke arose from any of +the chimneys; nor was there any semblance of a garden. My heart +sank. "That!" I cried. + +The woman's face lit up with a malignant anger. "That is the +house of Shaws!" she cried. "Blood built it; blood stopped the +building of it; blood shall bring it down. See here!" she cried +again -- "I spit upon the ground, and crack my thumb at it! Black +be its fall! If ye see the laird, tell him what ye hear; tell him +this makes the twelve hunner and nineteen time that Jennet +Clouston has called down the curse on him and his house, byre and +stable, man, guest, and master, wife, miss, or bairn -- black, +black be their fall!" + +And the woman, whose voice had risen to a kind of eldritch +sing-song, turned with a skip, and was gone. I stood where she +left me, with my hair on end. In those days folk still believed +in witches and trembled at a curse; and this one, falling so pat, +like a wayside omen, to arrest me ere I carried out my purpose, +took the pith out of my legs. + +I sat me down and stared at the house of Shaws. The more I +looked, the pleasanter that country-side appeared; being all set +with hawthorn bushes full of flowers; the fields dotted with +sheep; a fine flight of rooks in the sky; and every sign of a +kind soil and climate; and yet the barrack in the midst of it +went sore against my fancy. + +Country folk went by from the fields as I sat there on the side +of the ditch, but I lacked the spirit to give them a good-e'en. +At last the sun went down, and then, right up against the yellow +sky, I saw a scroll of smoke go mounting, not much thicker, as it +seemed to me, than the smoke of a candle; but still there it was, +and meant a fire, and warmth, and cookery, and some living +inhabitant that must have lit it; and this comforted my heart. + +So I set forward by a little faint track in the grass that led in +my direction. It was very faint indeed to be the only way to a +place of habitation; yet I saw no other. Presently it brought me +to stone uprights, with an unroofed lodge beside them, and coats +of arms upon the top. A main entrance it was plainly meant to +be, but never finished; instead of gates of wrought iron, a pair +of hurdles were tied across with a straw rope; and as there were +no park walls, nor any sign of avenue, the track that I was +following passed on the right hand of the pillars, and went +wandering on toward the house. + +The nearer I got to that, the drearier it appeared. It seemed +like the one wing of a house that had never been finished. What +should have been the inner end stood open on the upper floors, +and showed against the sky with steps and stairs of uncompleted +masonry. Many of the windows were unglazed, and bats flew in and +out like doves out of a dove-cote. + +The night had begun to fall as I got close; and in three of the +lower windows, which were very high up and narrow, and well +barred, the changing light of a little fire began to glimmer. +Was this the palace I had been coming to? Was it within these +walls that I was to seek new friends and begin great fortunes? +Why, in my father's house on Essen-Waterside, the fire and the +bright lights would show a mile away, and the door open to a +beggar's knock! + +I came forward cautiously, and giving ear as I came, heard some +one rattling with dishes, and a little dry, eager cough that came +in fits; but there was no sound of speech, and not a dog barked. + +The door, as well as I could see it in the dim light, was a great +piece of wood all studded with nails; and I lifted my hand with a +faint heart under my jacket, and knocked once. Then I stood and +waited. The house had fallen into a dead silence; a whole minute +passed away, and nothing stirred but the bats overhead. I +knocked again, and hearkened again. By this time my ears had +grown so accustomed to the quiet, that I could hear the ticking +of the clock inside as it slowly counted out the seconds; but +whoever was in that house kept deadly still, and must have held +his breath. + +I was in two minds whether to run away; but anger got the upper +hand, and I began instead to rain kicks and buffets on the door, +and to shout out aloud for Mr. Balfour. I was in full career, +when I heard the cough right overhead, and jumping back and +looking up, beheld a man's head in a tall nightcap, and the bell +mouth of a blunderbuss, at one of the first-storey windows. + +"It's loaded," said a voice. + +"I have come here with a letter," I said, "to Mr. Ebenezer +Balfour of Shaws. Is he here?" + +"From whom is it?" asked the man with the blunderbuss. + +"That is neither here nor there," said I, for I was growing very +wroth. + +"Well," was the reply, "ye can put it down upon the doorstep, and +be off with ye." + +"I will do no such thing," I cried. "I will deliver it into Mr. +Balfour's hands, as it was meant I should. It is a letter of +introduction." + +"A what?" cried the voice, sharply. + +I repeated what I had said. + +"Who are ye, yourself?" was the next question, after a +considerable pause. + +"I am not ashamed of my name," said I. "They call me David +Balfour." + +At that, I made sure the man started, for I heard the blunderbuss +rattle on the window-sill; and it was after quite a long pause, +and with a curious change of voice, that the next question +followed: + +"Is your father dead?" + + I was so much surprised at this, that I could find no voice to +answer, but stood staring. + +"Ay" the man resumed, "he'll be dead, no doubt; and that'll be +what brings ye chapping to my door." Another pause, and then +defiantly, "Well, man," he said, "I'll let ye in;" and he +disappeared from the window. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE + +Presently there came a great rattling of chains and bolts, and +the door was cautiously opened and shut to again behind me as +soon as I had passed. + +"Go into the kitchen and touch naething," said the voice; and +while the person of the house set himself to replacing the +defences of the door, I groped my way forward and entered the +kitchen. + +The fire had burned up fairly bright, and showed me the barest +room I think I ever put my eyes on. Half-a-dozen dishes stood +upon the shelves; the table was laid for supper with a bowl of +porridge, a horn spoon, and a cup of small beer. Besides what I +have named, there was not another thing in that great, +stone-vaulted, empty chamber but lockfast chests arranged along +the wall and a corner cupboard with a padlock. + +As soon as the last chain was up, the man rejoined me. He was a +mean, stooping, narrow-shouldered, clay-faced creature; and his +age might have been anything between fifty and seventy. His +nightcap was of flannel, and so was the nightgown that he wore, +instead of coat and waistcoat, over his ragged shirt. He was +long unshaved; but what most distressed and even daunted me, he +would neither take his eyes away from me nor look me fairly in +the face. What he was, whether by trade or birth, was more than +I could fathom; but he seemed most like an old, unprofitable +serving-man, who should have been left in charge of that big +house upon board wages. + +"Are ye sharp-set?" he asked, glancing at about the level of my +knee. "Ye can eat that drop parritch?" + +I said I feared it was his own supper. + +"O," said he, "I can do fine wanting it. I'll take the ale, +though, for it slockens[1] my cough." He drank the cup about +half out, still keeping an eye upon me as he drank; and then +suddenly held out his hand. "Let's see the letter," said he. + +[1] Moistens. + + +I told him the letter was for Mr. Balfour; not for him. + +"And who do ye think I am?" says he. "Give me Alexander's +letter." + +"You know my father's name?" + +"It would be strange if I didnae," he returned, "for he was my +born brother; and little as ye seem to like either me or my +house, or my good parritch, I'm your born uncle, Davie, my man, +and you my born nephew. So give us the letter, and sit down and +fill your kyte." + +If I had been some years younger, what with shame, weariness, and +disappointment, I believe I had burst into tears. As it was, I +could find no words, neither black nor white, but handed him +the letter, and sat down to the porridge with as little appetite +for meat as ever a young man had. + +Meanwhile, my uncle, stooping over the fire, turned the letter +over and over in his hands. + +"Do ye ken what's in it?" he asked, suddenly. + +"You see for yourself, sir," said I, "that the seal has not been +broken." + +"Ay," said he, "but what brought you here?" + +"To give the letter," said I. + +"No," says he, cunningly, "but ye'll have had some hopes, nae +doubt?" + +"I confess, sir," said I, "when I was told that I had kinsfolk +well-to-do, I did indeed indulge the hope that they might help me +in my life. But I am no beggar; I look for no favours at your +hands, and I want none that are not freely given. For as poor as +I appear, I have friends of my own that will be blithe to help +me." + +"Hoot-toot!" said Uncle Ebenezer, "dinnae fly up in the snuff at +me. We'll agree fine yet. And, Davie, my man, if you're done +with that bit parritch, I could just take a sup of it myself. +Ay," he continued, as soon as he had ousted me from the stool and +spoon, "they're fine, halesome food -- they're grand food, +parritch." He murmured a little grace to himself and fell to. +"Your father was very fond of his meat, I mind; he was a hearty, +if not a great eater; but as for me, I could never do mair than +pyke at food." He took a pull at the small beer, which probably +reminded him of hospitable duties, for his next speech ran thus: +"If ye're dry ye'll find water behind the door." + +To this I returned no answer, standing stiffly on my two feet, +and looking down upon my uncle with a mighty angry heart. He, on +his part, continued to eat like a man under some pressure of +time, and to throw out little darting glances now at my shoes and +now at my home-spun stockings. Once only, when he had ventured +to look a little higher, our eyes met; and no thief taken with a +hand in a man's pocket could have shown more lively signals of +distress. This set me in a muse, whether his timidity arose from +too long a disuse of any human company; and whether perhaps, upon +a little trial, it might pass off, and my uncle change into an +altogether different man. From this I was awakened by his sharp +voice. + +"Your father's been long dead?" he asked. + +"Three weeks, sir," said I. + +"He was a secret man, Alexander -- a secret, silent man," he +continued. "He never said muckle when he was young. He'll never +have spoken muckle of me?" + +"I never knew, sir, till you told it me yourself, that he had any +brother." + +"Dear me, dear me!" said Ebenezer. "Nor yet of Shaws, I dare +say?" + +"Not so much as the name, sir," said I. + +"To think o' that!" said he. "A strange nature of a man!" For +all that, he seemed singularly satisfied, but whether with +himself, or me, or with this conduct of my father's, was more +than I could read. Certainly, however, he seemed to be +outgrowing that distaste, or ill-will, that he had conceived at +first against my person; for presently he jumped up, came across +the room behind me, and hit me a smack upon the shoulder. "We'll +agree fine yet!" he cried. "I'm just as glad I let you in. And +now come awa' to your bed." + +To my surprise, he lit no lamp or candle, but set forth into the +dark passage, groped his way, breathing deeply, up a flight of +steps, and paused before a door, which he unlocked. I was close +upon his heels, having stumbled after him as best I might; and +then he bade me go in, for that was my chamber. I did as he bid, +but paused after a few steps, and begged a light to go to bed +with. + +"Hoot-toot!" said Uncle Ebenezer, "there's a fine moon." + +"Neither moon nor star, sir, and pit-mirk,"[2] said I. "I cannae +see the bed." + +[2] Dark as the pit. + + +"Hoot-toot, hoot-toot!" said he. "Lights in a house is a thing I +dinnae agree with. I'm unco feared of fires. Good-night to ye, +Davie, my man." And before I had time to add a further protest, +he pulled the door to, and I heard him lock me in from the +outside. + +I did not know whether to laugh or cry. The room was as cold as +a well, and the bed, when I had found my way to it, as damp as a +peat-hag; but by good fortune I had caught up my bundle and my +plaid, and rolling myself in the latter, I lay down upon the +floor under lee of the big bedstead, and fell speedily asleep. + +With the first peep of day I opened my eyes, to find myself in a +great chamber, hung with stamped leather, furnished with fine +embroidered furniture, and lit by three fair windows. Ten years +ago, or perhaps twenty, it must have been as pleasant a room to +lie down or to awake in as a man could wish; but damp, dirt, +disuse, and the mice and spiders had done their worst since then. +Many of the window-panes, besides, were broken; and indeed this +was so common a feature in that house, that I believe my uncle +must at some time have stood a siege from his indignant +neighbours -- perhaps with Jennet Clouston at their head. + +Meanwhile the sun was shining outside; and being very cold in +that miserable room, I knocked and shouted till my gaoler came +and let me out. He carried me to the back of the house, where +was a draw-well, and told me to "wash my face there, if I +wanted;" and when that was done, I made the best of my own way +back to the kitchen, where he had lit the fire and was making the +porridge. The table was laid with two bowls and two horn spoons, +but the same single measure of small beer. Perhaps my eye rested +on this particular with some surprise, and perhaps my uncle +observed it; for he spoke up as if in answer to my thought, +asking me if I would like to drink ale -- for so he called it. + +I told him such was my habit, but not to put himself about. + +"Na, na," said he; "I'll deny you nothing in reason." + +He fetched another cup from the shelf; and then, to my great +surprise, instead of drawing more beer, he poured an accurate +half from one cup to the other. There was a kind of nobleness in +this that took my breath away; if my uncle was certainly a miser, +he was one of that thorough breed that goes near to make the vice +respectable. + +When we had made an end of our meal, my uncle Ebenezer unlocked a +drawer, and drew out of it a clay pipe and a lump of tobacco, +from which he cut one fill before he locked it up again. Then he +sat down in the sun at one of the windows and silently smoked. +From time to time his eyes came coasting round to me, and he shot +out one of his questions. Once it was, "And your mother?" and +when I had told him that she, too, was dead, "Ay, she was a +bonnie lassie!" Then, after another long pause, "Whae were these +friends o' yours?" + +I told him they were different gentlemen of the name of Campbell; +though, indeed, there was only one, and that the minister, that +had ever taken the least note of me; but I began to think my +uncle made too light of my position, and finding myself all alone +with him, I did not wish him to suppose me helpless. + +He seemed to turn this over in his mind; and then, "Davie, my +man," said he, "ye've come to the right bit when ye came to your +uncle Ebenezer. I've a great notion of the family, and I mean to +do the right by you; but while I'm taking a bit think to mysel' +of what's the best thing to put you to -- whether the law, or the +meenistry, or maybe the army, whilk is what boys are fondest of +-- I wouldnae like the Balfours to be humbled before a wheen +Hieland Campbells, and I'll ask you to keep your tongue within +your teeth. Nae letters; nae messages; no kind of word to +onybody; or else -- there's my door." + +"Uncle Ebenezer," said I, "I've no manner of reason to suppose +you mean anything but well by me. For all that, I would have you +to know that I have a pride of my own. It was by no will of mine +that I came seeking you; and if you show me your door again, I'll +take you at the word." + +He seemed grievously put out. "Hoots-toots," said he, "ca' +cannie, man -- ca' cannie! Bide a day or two. I'm nae warlock, +to find a fortune for you in the bottom of a parritch bowl; but +just you give me a day or two, and say naething to naebody, and +as sure as sure, I'll do the right by you." + +"Very well," said I, "enough said. If you want to help me, +there's no doubt but I'll be glad of it, and none but I'll be +grateful." + +It seemed to me (too soon, I dare say) that I was getting the +upper hand of my uncle; and I began next to say that I must have +the bed and bedclothes aired and put to sun-dry; for nothing +would make me sleep in such a pickle. + +"Is this my house or yours?" said he, in his keen voice, and then +all of a sudden broke off. "Na, na," said he, "I didnae mean +that. What's mine is yours, Davie, my man, and what's yours is +mine. Blood's thicker than water; and there's naebody but you +and me that ought the name." And then on he rambled about the +family, and its ancient greatness, and his father that began to +enlarge the house, and himself that stopped the building as a +sinful waste; and this put it in my head to give him Jennet +Clouston's message. + +"The limmer!" he cried. "Twelve hunner and fifteen -- that's +every day since I had the limmer rowpit![3] Dod, David, I'll have +her roasted on red peats before I'm by with it! A witch -- a +proclaimed witch! I'll aff and see the session clerk." + +[3] Sold up. + + +And with that he opened a chest, and got out a very old and +well-preserved blue coat and waistcoat, and a good enough beaver +hat, both without lace. These he threw on any way, and taking a +staff from the cupboard, locked all up again, and was for setting +out, when a thought arrested him. + +"I cannae leave you by yoursel' in the house," said he. "I'll +have to lock you out." + +The blood came to my face. "If you lock me out," I said, "it'll +be the last you'll see of me in friendship." + +He turned very pale, and sucked his mouth in. + +"This is no the way" he said, looking wickedly at a corner of the +floor -- "this is no the way to win my favour, David." + +"Sir," says I, "with a proper reverence for your age and our +common blood, I do not value your favour at a boddle's purchase. +I was brought up to have a good conceit of myself; and if you +were all the uncle, and all the family, I had in the world ten +times over, I wouldn't buy your liking at such prices." + +Uncle Ebenezer went and looked out of the window for awhile. I +could see him all trembling and twitching, like a man with palsy. +But when he turned round, he had a smile upon his face. + +"Well, well," said he, "we must bear and forbear. I'll no go; +that's all that's to be said of it." + +"Uncle Ebenezer," I said, "I can make nothing out of this. You +use me like a thief; you hate to have me in this house; you let +me see it, every word and every minute: it's not possible that +you can like me; and as for me, I've spoken to you as I never +thought to speak to any man. Why do you seek to keep me, then? +Let me gang back -- let me gang back to the friends I have, and +that like me!" + +"Na, na; na, na," he said, very earnestly. "I like you fine; +we'll agree fine yet; and for the honour of the house I couldnae +let you leave the way ye came. Bide here quiet, there's a good +lad; just you bide here quiet a bittie, and ye'll find that we +agree." + +"Well, sir," said I, after I had thought the matter out in +silence, "I'll stay awhile. It's more just I should be helped by +my own blood than strangers; and if we don't agree, I'll do my +best it shall be through no fault of mine." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + +For a day that was begun so ill, the day passed fairly well. We +had the porridge cold again at noon, and hot porridge at night; +porridge and small beer was my uncle's diet. He spoke but +little, and that in the same way as before, shooting a question +at me after a long silence; and when I sought to lead him to talk +about my future, slipped out of it again. In a room next door to +the kitchen, where he suffered me to go, I found a great number +of books, both Latin and English, in which I took great pleasure +all the afternoon. Indeed, the time passed so lightly in this +good company, that I began to be almost reconciled to my +residence at Shaws; and nothing but the sight of my uncle, and +his eyes playing hide and seek with mine, revived the force of my +distrust. + +One thing I discovered, which put me in some doubt. This was an +entry on the fly-leaf of a chap-book (one of Patrick Walker's) +plainly written by my father's hand and thus conceived: "To my +brother Ebenezer on his fifth birthday" Now, what puzzled me was +this: That, as my father was of course the younger brother, he +must either have made some strange error, or he must have +written, before he was yet five, an excellent, clear manly hand +of writing. + +I tried to get this out of my head; but though I took down many +interesting authors, old and new, history, poetry, and +story-book, this notion of my father's hand of writing stuck to +me; and when at length I went back into the kitchen, and sat down +once more to porridge and small beer, the first thing I said to +Uncle Ebenezer was to ask him if my father had not been very +quick at his book. + +"Alexander? No him!" was the reply. "I was far quicker mysel'; I +was a clever chappie when I was young. Why, I could read as soon +as he could." + +This puzzled me yet more; and a thought coming into my head, I +asked if he and my father had been twins. + +He jumped upon his stool, and the horn spoon fell out of his hand +upon the floor. "What gars ye ask that?" he said, and he caught +me by the breast of the jacket, and looked this time straight +into my eyes: his own were little and light, and bright like a +bird's, blinking and winking strangely. + +"What do you mean?" I asked, very calmly, for I was far stronger +than he, and not easily frightened. "Take your hand from my +jacket. This is no way to behave." + +My uncle seemed to make a great effort upon himself. "Dod man, +David," he said, "ye should-nae speak to me about your father. +That's where the mistake is." He sat awhile and shook, blinking +in his plate: "He was all the brother that ever I had," he added, +but with no heart in his voice; and then he caught up his spoon +and fell to supper again, but still shaking. + +Now this last passage, this laying of hands upon my person and +sudden profession of love for my dead father, went so clean +beyond my comprehension that it put me into both fear and hope. +On the one hand, I began to think my uncle was perhaps insane and +might be dangerous; on the other, there came up into my mind +(quite unbidden by me and even discouraged) a story like some +ballad I had heard folk singing, of a poor lad that was a +rightful heir and a wicked kinsman that tried to keep him from +his own. For why should my uncle play a part with a relative +that came, almost a beggar, to his door, unless in his heart he +had some cause to fear him? + +With this notion, all unacknowledged, but nevertheless getting +firmly settled in my head, I now began to imitate his covert +looks; so that we sat at table like a cat and a mouse, each +stealthily observing the other. Not another word had he to say +to me, black or white, but was busy turning something secretly +over in his mind; and the longer we sat and the more I looked at +him, the more certain I became that the something was unfriendly +to myself. + +When he had cleared the platter, he got out a single pipeful of +tobacco, just as in the morning, turned round a stool into the +chimney corner, and sat awhile smoking, with his back to me. + +"Davie," he said, at length, "I've been thinking;" then he +paused, and said it again. "There's a wee bit siller that I half +promised ye before ye were born," he continued; "promised it to +your father. O, naething legal, ye understand; just gentlemen +daffing at their wine. Well, I keepit that bit money separate -- +it was a great expense, but a promise is a promise -- and it has +grown by now to be a matter of just precisely -- just exactly" -- +and here he paused and stumbled -- "of just exactly forty +pounds!" This last he rapped out with a sidelong glance over his +shoulder; and the next moment added, almost with a scream, +"Scots!" + +The pound Scots being the same thing as an English shilling, the +difference made by this second thought was considerable; I could +see, besides, that the whole story was a lie, invented with some +end which it puzzled me to guess; and I made no attempt to +conceal the tone of raillery in which I answered -- + +"O, think again, sir! Pounds sterling, I believe!" + +"That's what I said," returned my uncle: "pounds sterling! And if +you'll step out-by to the door a minute, just to see what kind of +a night it is, I'll get it out to ye and call ye in again." + +I did his will, smiling to myself in my contempt that he should +think I was so easily to be deceived. It was a dark night, with +a few stars low down; and as I stood just outside the door, I +heard a hollow moaning of wind far off among the hills. I said +to myself there was something thundery and changeful in the +weather, and little knew of what a vast importance that should +prove to me before the evening passed. + +When I was called in again, my uncle counted out into my hand +seven and thirty golden guinea pieces; the rest was in his hand, +in small gold and silver; but his heart failed him there, and he +crammed the change into his pocket. + +"There," said he, "that'll show you! I'm a queer man, and strange +wi' strangers; but my word is my bond, and there's the proof of +it." + +Now, my uncle seemed so miserly that I was struck dumb by this +sudden generosity, and could find no words in which to thank him. + +"No a word!" said he. "Nae thanks; I want nae thanks. I do my +duty. I'm no saying that everybody would have, done it; but for +my part (though I'm a careful body, too) it's a pleasure to me to +do the right by my brother's son; and it's a pleasure to me to +think that now we'll agree as such near friends should." + +I spoke him in return as handsomely as I was able; but all the +while I was wondering what would come next, and why he had parted +with his precious guineas; for as to the reason he had given, a +baby would have refused it. + +Presently he looked towards me sideways. + +"And see here," says he, "tit for tat." + +I told him I was ready to prove my gratitude in any reasonable +degree, and then waited, looking for some monstrous demand. And +yet, when at last he plucked up courage to speak, it was only to +tell me (very properly, as I thought) that he was growing old and +a little broken, and that he would expect me to help him with the +house and the bit garden. + +I answered, and expressed my readiness to serve. + +"Well," he said, "let's begin." He pulled out of his pocket a +rusty key. "There," says he, "there's the key of the stair-tower +at the far end of the house. Ye can only win into it from the +outside, for that part of the house is no finished. Gang ye in +there, and up the stairs, and bring me down the chest that's at +the top. There's papers in't," he added. + +"Can I have a light, sir?" said I. + +"Na," said he, very cunningly. "Nae lights in my house." + +"Very well, sir," said I. "Are the stairs good?" + +"They're grand," said he; and then, as I was going, "Keep to the +wall," he added; "there's nae bannisters. But the stairs are +grand underfoot." + +Out I went into the night. The wind was still moaning in the +distance, though never a breath of it came near the house of +Shaws. It had fallen blacker than ever; and I was glad to feel +along the wall, till I came the length of the stairtower door at +the far end of the unfinished wing. I had got the key into the +keyhole and had just turned it, when all upon a sudden, without +sound of wind or thunder, the whole sky lighted up with wild fire +and went black again. I had to put my hand over my eyes to get +back to the colour of the darkness; and indeed I was already half +blinded when I stepped into the tower. + +It was so dark inside, it seemed a body could scarce breathe; but +I pushed out with foot and hand, and presently struck the wall +with the one, and the lowermost round of the stair with the +other. The wall, by the touch, was of fine hewn stone; the steps +too, though somewhat steep and narrow, were of polished +masonwork, and regular and solid underfoot. Minding my uncle's +word about the bannisters, I kept close to the tower side, and +felt my way in the pitch darkness with a beating heart. + +The house of Shaws stood some five full storeys high, not +counting lofts. Well, as I advanced, it seemed to me the stair +grew airier and a thought more lightsome; and I was wondering +what might be the cause of this change, when a second blink of +the summer lightning came and went. If I did not cry out, it was +because fear had me by the throat; and if I did not fall, it was +more by Heaven's mercy than my own strength. It was not only +that the flash shone in on every side through breaches in the +wall, so that I seemed to be clambering aloft upon an open +scaffold, but the same passing brightness showed me the steps +were of unequal length, and that one of my feet rested that +moment within two inches of the well. + +This was the grand stair! I thought; and with the thought, a gust +of a kind of angry courage came into my heart. My uncle had sent +me here, certainly to run great risks, perhaps to die. I swore I +would settle that "perhaps," if I should break my neck for it; +got me down upon my hands and knees; and as slowly as a snail, +feeling before me every inch, and testing the solidity of every +stone, I continued to ascend the stair. The darkness, by +contrast with the flash, appeared to have redoubled; nor was that +all, for my ears were now troubled and my mind confounded by a +great stir of bats in the top part of the tower, and the foul +beasts, flying downwards, sometimes beat about my face and body. + +The tower, I should have said, was square; and in every corner +the step was made of a great stone of a different shape to join +the flights. Well, I had come close to one of these turns, when, +feeling forward as usual, my hand slipped upon an edge and found +nothing but emptiness beyond it. The stair had been carried no +higher; to set a stranger mounting it in the darkness was to send +him straight to his death; and (although, thanks to the lightning +and my own precautions, I was safe enough) the mere thought of +the peril in which I might have stood, and the dreadful height I +might have fallen from, brought out the sweat upon my body and +relaxed my joints. + +But I knew what I wanted now, and turned and groped my way down +again, with a wonderful anger in my heart. About half-way down, +the wind sprang up in a clap and shook the tower, and died again; +the rain followed; and before I had reached the ground level it +fell in buckets. I put out my head into the storm, and looked +along towards the kitchen. The door, which I had shut behind me +when I left, now stood open, and shed a little glimmer of light; +and I thought I could see a figure standing in the rain, quite +still, like a man hearkening. And then there came a blinding +flash, which showed me my uncle plainly, just where I had fancied +him to stand; and hard upon the heels of it, a great tow-row of +thunder. + +Now, whether my uncle thought the crash to be the sound of my +fall, or whether he heard in it God's voice denouncing murder, I +will leave you to guess. Certain it is, at least, that he was +seized on by a kind of panic fear, and that he ran into the house +and left the door open behind him. I followed as softly as I +could, and, coming unheard into the kitchen, stood and watched +him. + +He had found time to open the corner cupboard and bring out a +great case bottle of aqua vitae, and now sat with his back +towards me at the table. Ever and again he would be seized with +a fit of deadly shuddering and groan aloud, and carrying the +bottle to his lips, drink down the raw spirits by the mouthful. + +I stepped forward, came close behind him where he sat, and +suddenly clapping my two hands down upon his shoulders -- "Ah!" +cried I. + +My uncle gave a kind of broken cry like a sheep's bleat, flung up +his arms, and tumbled to the floor like a dead man. I was +somewhat shocked at this; but I had myself to look to first of +all, and did not hesitate to let him lie as he had fallen. The +keys were hanging in the cupboard; and it was my design to +furnish myself with arms before my uncle should come again to his +senses and the power of devising evil. In the cupboard were a +few bottles, some apparently of medicine; a great many bills and +other papers, which I should willingly enough have rummaged, had +I had the time; and a few necessaries that were nothing to my +purpose. Thence I turned to the chests. The first was full of +meal; the second of moneybags and papers tied into sheaves; in +the third, with many other things (and these for the most part +clothes) I found a rusty, ugly-looking Highland dirk without the +scabbard. This, then, I concealed inside my waistcoat, and +turned to my uncle. + +He lay as he had fallen, all huddled, with one knee up and one +arm sprawling abroad; his face had a strange colour of blue, and +he seemed to have ceased breathing. Fear came on me that he was +dead; then I got water and dashed it in his face; and with that +he seemed to come a little to himself, working his mouth and +fluttering his eyelids. At last he looked up and saw me, and +there came into his eyes a terror that was not of this world. + +"Come, come," said I; "sit up." + +"Are ye alive?" he sobbed. "O man, are ye alive?" + +"That am I," said I. "Small thanks to you!" + +He had begun to seek for his breath with deep sighs. "The blue +phial," said he -- "in the aumry -- the blue phial." His breath +came slower still. + +I ran to the cupboard, and, sure enough, found there a blue phial +of medicine, with the dose written on it on a paper, and this I +administered to him with what speed I might. + +"It's the trouble," said he, reviving a little; "I have a +trouble, Davie. It's the heart." + +I set him on a chair and looked at him. It is true I felt some +pity for a man that looked so sick, but I was full besides of +righteous anger; and I numbered over before him the points on +which I wanted explanation: why he lied to me at every word; why +he feared that I should leave him; why he disliked it to be +hinted that he and my father were twins -- "Is that because it is +true?" I asked; why he had given me money to which I was +convinced I had no claim; and, last of all, why he had tried to +kill me. He heard me all through in silence; and then, in a +broken voice, begged me to let him go to bed. + +"I'll tell ye the morn," he said; "as sure as death I will." + +And so weak was he that I could do nothing but consent. I locked +him into his room, however, and pocketed the, key, and then +returning to the kitchen, made up such a blaze as had not shone +there for many a long year, and wrapping myself in my plaid, lay +down upon the chests and fell asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +I GO TO THE QUEEN'S FERRY + +Much rain fell in the night; and the next morning there blew a +bitter wintry wind out of the north-west, driving scattered +clouds. For all that, and before the sun began to peep or the +last of the stars had vanished, I made my way to the side of the +burn, and had a plunge in a deep whirling pool. All aglow from +my bath, I sat down once more beside the fire, which I +replenished, and began gravely to consider my position. + +There was now no doubt about my uncle's enmity; there was no +doubt I carried my life in my hand, and he would leave no stone +unturned that he might compass my destruction. But I was young +and spirited, and like most lads that have been country-bred, I +had a great opinion of my shrewdness. I had come to his door no +better than a beggar and little more than a child; he had met me +with treachery and violence; it would be a fine consummation to +take the upper hand, and drive him like a herd of sheep. + +I sat there nursing my knee and smiling at the fire; and I saw +myself in fancy smell out his secrets one after another, and grow +to be that man's king and ruler. The warlock of Essendean, they +say, had made a mirror in which men could read the future; it +must have been of other stuff than burning coal; for in all the +shapes and pictures that I sat and gazed at, there was never a +ship, never a seaman with a hairy cap, never a big bludgeon for +my silly head, or the least sign of all those tribulations that +were ripe to fall on me. + +Presently, all swollen with conceit, I went up-stairs and gave my +prisoner his liberty. He gave me good-morning civilly; and I +gave the same to him, smiling down upon him, from the heights of +my sufficiency. Soon we were set to breakfast, as it might have +been the day before. + +"Well, sir," said I, with a jeering tone, "have you nothing more +to say to me?" And then, as he made no articulate reply, "It will +be time, I think, to understand each other," I continued. "You +took me for a country Johnnie Raw, with no more mother-wit or +courage than a porridge-stick. I took you for a good man, or no +worse than others at the least. It seems we were both wrong. +What cause you have to fear me, to cheat me, and to attempt my +life--" + +He murmured something about a jest, and that he liked a bit of +fun; and then, seeing me smile, changed his tone, and assured me +he would make all clear as soon as we had breakfasted. I saw by +his face that he had no lie ready for me, though he was hard at +work preparing one; and I think I was about to tell him so, when +we were interrupted by a knocking at the door. + +Bidding my uncle sit where he was, I went to open it, and found +on the doorstep a half-grown boy in sea-clothes. He had no +sooner seen me than he began to dance some steps of the +sea-hornpipe (which I had never before heard of far less seen), +snapping his fingers in the air and footing it right cleverly. +For all that, he was blue with the cold; and there was something +in his face, a look between tears and laughter, that was highly +pathetic and consisted ill with this gaiety of manner. + +"What cheer, mate?" says he, with a cracked voice. + +I asked him soberly to name his pleasure. + +"O, pleasure!" says he; and then began to sing: + + "For it's my delight, of a shiny night, + In the season of the year." + +"Well," said I, "if you have no business at all, I will even be +so unmannerly as to shut you out." + +"Stay, brother!" he cried. "Have you no fun about you? or do you +want to get me thrashed? I've brought a letter from old Heasyoasy +to Mr. Belflower." He showed me a letter as he spoke. "And I +say, mate," he added, "I'm mortal hungry." + +"Well," said I, "come into the house, and you shall have a bite +if I go empty for it." + +With that I brought him in and set him down to my own place, +where he fell-to greedily on the remains of breakfast, winking to +me between whiles, and making many faces, which I think the poor +soul considered manly. Meanwhile, my uncle had read the letter +and sat thinking; then, suddenly, he got to his feet with a great +air of liveliness, and pulled me apart into the farthest corner +of the room. + +"Read that," said he, and put the letter in my hand. + +Here it is, lying before me as I write: + + "The Hawes Inn, at the Queen's Ferry. + +"Sir, -- I lie here with my hawser up and down, and send my +cabin-boy to informe. If you have any further commands for +over-seas, to-day will be the last occasion, as the wind will +serve us well out of the firth. I will not seek to deny that I +have had crosses with your doer,[4] Mr. Rankeillor; of which, if +not speedily redd up, you may looke to see some losses follow. I +have drawn a bill upon you, as per margin, and am, sir, your most +obedt., humble servant, + "ELIAS HOSEASON." + +[4] Agent. + + +"You see, Davie," resumed my uncle, as soon as he saw that I had +done, "I have a venture with this man Hoseason, the captain of a +trading brig, the Covenant, of Dysart. Now, if you and me was to +walk over with yon lad, I could see the captain at the Hawes, or +maybe on board the Covenant if there was papers to be signed; and +so far from a loss of time, we can jog on to the lawyer, Mr. +Rankeillor's. After a' that's come and gone, ye would be +swier[5] to believe me upon my naked word; but ye'll believe +Rankeillor. He's factor to half the gentry in these parts; an +auld man, forby: highly respeckit, and he kenned your father." + +[5] Unwilling. + + +I stood awhile and thought. I was going to some place of +shipping, which was doubtless populous, and where my uncle durst +attempt no violence, and, indeed, even the society of the +cabin-boy so far protected me. Once there, I believed I could +force on the visit to the lawyer, even if my uncle were now +insincere in proposing it; and, perhaps, in the bottom of my +heart, I wished a nearer view of the sea and ships. You are to +remember I had lived all my life in the inland hills, and just +two days before had my first sight of the firth lying like a blue +floor, and the sailed ships moving on the face of it, no bigger +than toys. One thing with another, I made up my mind. + +"Very well," says I, "let us go to the Ferry." + +My uncle got into his hat and coat, and buckled an old rusty +cutlass on; and then we trod the fire out, locked the door, and +set forth upon our walk. + +The wind, being in that cold quarter the north-west, blew nearly +in our faces as we went. It was the month of June; the grass was +all white with daisies, and the trees with blossom; but, to judge +by our blue nails and aching wrists, the time might have been +winter and the whiteness a December frost. + +Uncle Ebenezer trudged in the ditch, jogging from side to side +like an old ploughman coming home from work. He never said a +word the whole way; and I was thrown for talk on the cabin-boy. +He told me his name was Ransome, and that he had followed the sea +since he was nine, but could not say how old he was, as he had +lost his reckoning. He showed me tattoo marks, baring his breast +in the teeth of the wind and in spite of my remonstrances, for I +thought it was enough to kill him; he swore horribly whenever he +remembered, but more like a silly schoolboy than a man; and +boasted of many wild and bad things that he had done: stealthy +thefts, false accusations, ay, and even murder; but all with such +a dearth of likelihood in the details, and such a weak and crazy +swagger in the delivery, as disposed me rather to pity than to +believe him. + +I asked him of the brig (which he declared was the finest ship +that sailed) and of Captain Hoseason, in whose praises he was +equally loud. Heasyoasy (for so he still named the skipper) was +a man, by his account, that minded for nothing either in heaven +or earth; one that, as people said, would "crack on all sail into +the day of judgment;" rough, fierce, unscrupulous, and brutal; +and all this my poor cabin-boy had taught himself to admire as +something seamanlike and manly. He would only admit one flaw in +his idol. "He ain't no seaman," he admitted. "That's Mr. Shuan +that navigates the brig; he's the finest seaman in the trade, +only for drink; and I tell you I believe it! Why, look'ere;" and +turning down his stocking he showed me a great, raw, red wound +that made my blood run cold. "He done that -- Mr. Shuan done +it," he said, with an air of pride. + +"What!" I cried, "do you take such savage usage at his hands? +Why, you are no slave, to be so handled!" + +"No," said the poor moon-calf, changing his tune at once, "and so +he'll find. See'ere;" and he showed me a great case-knife, which +he told me was stolen. "O," says he, "let me see him, try; I +dare him to; I'll do for him! O, he ain't the first!" And he +confirmed it with a poor, silly, ugly oath. + +I have never felt such pity for any one in this wide world as I +felt for that half-witted creature, and it began to come over me +that the brig Covenant (for all her pious name) was little better +than a hell upon the seas. + +"Have you no friends?" said I. + +He said he had a father in some English seaport, I forget which. + +"He was a fine man, too," he said, "but he's dead." + +"In Heaven's name," cried I, "can you find no reputable life on +shore?" + +"O, no," says he, winking and looking very sly, "they would put +me to a trade. I know a trick worth two of that, I do!" + +I asked him what trade could be so dreadful as the one he +followed, where he ran the continual peril of his life, not alone +from wind and sea, but by the horrid cruelty of those who were +his masters. He said it was very true; and then began to praise +the life, and tell what a pleasure it was to get on shore with +money in his pocket, and spend it like a man, and buy apples, and +swagger, and surprise what he called stick-in-the-mud boys. "And +then it's not all as bad as that," says he; "there's worse off +than me: there's the twenty-pounders. O, laws! you should see +them taking on. Why, I've seen a man as old as you, I dessay" -- +(to him I seemed old)-- "ah, and he had a beard, too -- well, and +as soon as we cleared out of the river, and he had the drug out +of his head -- my! how he cried and carried on! I made a fine +fool of him, I tell you! And then there's little uns, too: oh, +little by me! I tell you, I keep them in order. When we carry +little uns, I have a rope's end of my own to wollop'em." And so +he ran on, until it came in on me what he meant by +twenty-pounders were those unhappy criminals who were sent +over-seas to slavery in North America, or the still more unhappy +innocents who were kidnapped or trepanned (as the word went) for +private interest or vengeance. + +Just then we came to the top of the hill, and looked down on the +Ferry and the Hope. The Firth of Forth (as is very well known) +narrows at this point to the width of a good-sized river, which +makes a convenient ferry going north, and turns the upper reach +into a landlocked haven for all manner of ships. Right in the +midst of the narrows lies an islet with some ruins; on the south +shore they have built a pier for the service of the Ferry; and at +the end of the pier, on the other side of the road, and backed +against a pretty garden of holly-trees and hawthorns, I could see +the building which they called the Hawes Inn. + +The town of Queensferry lies farther west, and the neighbourhood +of the inn looked pretty lonely at that time of day, for the boat +had just gone north with passengers. A skiff, however, lay +beside the pier, with some seamen sleeping on the thwarts; this, +as Ransome told me, was the brig's boat waiting for the captain; +and about half a mile off, and all alone in the anchorage, he +showed me the Covenant herself. There was a sea-going bustle on +board; yards were swinging into place; and as the wind blew from +that quarter, I could hear the song of the sailors as they pulled +upon the ropes. After all I had listened to upon the way, I +looked at that ship with an extreme abhorrence; and from the +bottom of my heart I pitied all poor souls that were condemned to +sail in her. + +We had all three pulled up on the brow of the hill; and now I +marched across the road and addressed my uncle. "I think it +right to tell you, sir." says I, "there's nothing that will +bring me on board that Covenant." + +He seemed to waken from a dream. "Eh?" he said. "What's that?" + +I told him over again. + +"Well, well," he said, "we'll have to please ye, I suppose. But +what are we standing here for? It's perishing cold; and if I'm no +mistaken, they're busking the Covenant for sea." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN'S FERRY + +As soon as we came to the inn, Ransome led us up the stair to a +small room, with a bed in it, and heated like an oven by a great +fire of coal. At a table hard by the chimney, a tall, dark, +sober-looking man sat writing. In spite of the heat of the room, +he wore a thick sea-jacket, buttoned to the neck, and a tall +hairy cap drawn down over his ears; yet I never saw any man, not +even a judge upon the bench, look cooler, or more studious and +self-possessed, than this ship-captain. + +He got to his feet at once, and coming forward, offered his large +hand to Ebenezer. "I am proud to see you, Mr. Balfour," said he, +in a fine deep voice, "and glad that ye are here in time. The +wind's fair, and the tide upon the turn; we'll see the old +coal-bucket burning on the Isle of May before to-night." + +"Captain Hoseason," returned my uncle, "you keep your room unco +hot." + +"It's a habit I have, Mr. Balfour," said the skipper. "I'm a +cold-rife man by my nature; I have a cold blood, sir. There's +neither fur, nor flannel -- no, sir, nor hot rum, will warm up +what they call the temperature. Sir, it's the same with most men +that have been carbonadoed, as they call it, in the tropic seas." + +"Well, well, captain," replied my uncle, "we must all be the way +we're made." + +But it chanced that this fancy of the captain's had a great share +in my misfortunes. For though I had promised myself not to let +my kinsman out of sight, I was both so impatient for a nearer +look of the sea, and so sickened by the closeness of the room, +that when he told me to "run down-stairs and play myself awhile," +I was fool enough to take him at his word. + +Away I went, therefore, leaving the two men sitting down to a +bottle and a great mass of papers; and crossing the road in front +of the inn, walked down upon the beach. With the wind in that +quarter, only little wavelets, not much bigger than I had seen +upon a lake, beat upon the shore. But the weeds were new to me +-- some green, some brown and long, and some with little bladders +that crackled between my fingers. Even so far up the firth, the +smell of the sea-water was exceedingly salt and stirring; the +Covenant, besides, was beginning to shake out her sails, which +hung upon the yards in clusters; and the spirit of all that I +beheld put me in thoughts of far voyages and foreign places. + +I looked, too, at the seamen with the skiff -- big brown fellows, +some in shirts, some with jackets, some with coloured +handkerchiefs about their throats, one with a brace of pistols +stuck into his pockets, two or three with knotty bludgeons, and +all with their case-knives. I passed the time of day with one +that looked less desperate than his fellows, and asked him of the +sailing of the brig. He said they would get under way as soon as +the ebb set, and expressed his gladness to be out of a port where +there were no taverns and fiddlers; but all with such horrifying +oaths, that I made haste to get away from him. + +This threw me back on Ransome, who seemed the least wicked of +that gang, and who soon came out of the inn and ran to me, crying +for a bowl of punch. I told him I would give him no such thing, +for neither he nor I was of an age for such indulgences. "But a +glass of ale you may have, and welcome," said I. He mopped and +mowed at me, and called me names; but he was glad to get the ale, +for all that; and presently we were set down at a table in the +front room of the inn, and both eating and drinking with a good +appetite. + +Here it occurred to me that, as the landlord was a man of that +county, I might do well to make a friend of him. I offered him a +share, as was much the custom in those days; but he was far too +great a man to sit with such poor customers as Ransome and +myself, and he was leaving the room, when I called him back to +ask if he knew Mr. Rankeillor. + +"Hoot, ay," says he, "and a very honest man. And, O, by-the-by," +says he, "was it you that came in with Ebenezer?" And when I had +told him yes, "Ye'll be no friend of his?" he asked, meaning, in +the Scottish way, that I would be no relative. + +I told him no, none. + +"I thought not," said he, "and yet ye have a kind of gliff[6] of +Mr. Alexander." + +[6]Look. + + +I said it seemed that Ebenezer was ill-seen in the country. + +"Nae doubt," said the landlord. "He's a wicked auld man, and +there's many would like to see him girning in the tow[7]. Jennet +Clouston and mony mair that he has harried out of house and hame. +And yet he was ance a fine young fellow, too. But that was +before the sough[8] gaed abroad about Mr. Alexander, that was +like the death of him." + +[7]Rope. +[8]Report. + + +"And what was it?" I asked. + +"Ou, just that he had killed him," said the landlord. "Did ye +never hear that?" + +"And what would he kill him for?" said I. + +"And what for, but just to get the place," said he. + +"The place?" said I. "The Shaws?" + +"Nae other place that I ken," said he. + +"Ay, man?" said I. "Is that so? Was my -- was Alexander the +eldest son?" + +"'Deed was he," said the landlord. "What else would he have +killed him for?" + +And with that he went away, as he had been impatient to do from +the beginning. + +Of course, I had guessed it a long while ago; but it is one thing +to guess, another to know; and I sat stunned with my good +fortune, and could scarce grow to believe that the same poor lad +who had trudged in the dust from Ettrick Forest not two days ago, +was now one of the rich of the earth, and had a house and broad +lands, and might mount his horse tomorrow. All these pleasant +things, and a thousand others, crowded into my mind, as I sat +staring before me out of the inn window, and paying no heed to +what I saw; only I remember that my eye lighted on Captain +Hoseason down on the pier among his seamen, and speaking with +some authority. And presently he came marching back towards the +house, with no mark of a sailor's clumsiness, but carrying his +fine, tall figure with a manly bearing, and still with the same +sober, grave expression on his face. I wondered if it was +possible that Ransome's stories could be true, and half +disbelieved them; they fitted so ill with the man's looks. But +indeed, he was neither so good as I supposed him, nor quite so +bad as Ransome did; for, in fact, he was two men, and left the +better one behind as soon as he set foot on board his vessel. + +The next thing, I heard my uncle calling me, and found the pair +in the road together. It was the captain who addressed me, and +that with an air (very flattering to a young lad) of grave +equality. + +"Sir," said he, "Mr. Balfour tells me great things of you; and +for my own part, I like your looks. I wish I was for longer +here, that we might make the better friends; but we'll make the +most of what we have. Ye shall come on board my brig for half an +hour, till the ebb sets, and drink a bowl with me." + +Now, I longed to see the inside of a ship more than words can +tell; but I was not going to put myself in jeopardy, and I told +him my uncle and I had an appointment with a lawyer. + +"Ay, ay," said he, "he passed me word of that. But, ye see, the +boat'll set ye ashore at the town pier, and that's but a penny +stonecast from Rankeillor's house." And here he suddenly leaned +down and whispered in my ear: "Take care of the old tod;[9] he +means mischief. Come aboard till I can get a word with ye." And +then, passing his arm through mine, he continued aloud, as he set +off towards his boat: "But, come, what can I bring ye from the +Carolinas? Any friend of Mr. Balfour's can command. A roll of +tobacco? Indian feather-work? a skin of a wild beast? a stone +pipe? the mocking-bird that mews for all the world like a cat? +the cardinal bird that is as red as blood? -- take your pick and +say your pleasure." + +[9] Fox. + + +By this time we were at the boat-side, and he was handing me in. +I did not dream of hanging back; I thought (the poor fool!) that +I had found a good friend and helper, and I was rejoiced to see +the ship. As soon as we were all set in our places, the boat was +thrust off from the pier and began to move over the waters: and +what with my pleasure in this new movement and my surprise at our +low position, and the appearance of the shores, and the growing +bigness of the brig as we drew near to it, I could hardly +understand what the captain said, and must have answered him at +random. + +As soon as we were alongside (where I sat fairly gaping at the +ship's height, the strong humming of the tide against its sides, +and the pleasant cries of the seamen at their work) Hoseason, +declaring that he and I must be the first aboard, ordered a +tackle to be sent down from the main-yard. In this I was whipped +into the air and set down again on the deck, where the captain +stood ready waiting for me, and instantly slipped back his arm +under mine. There I stood some while, a little dizzy with the +unsteadiness of all around me, perhaps a little afraid, and yet +vastly pleased with these strange sights; the captain meanwhile +pointing out the strangest, and telling me their names and uses. + +"But where is my uncle?" said I suddenly. + +"Ay," said Hoseason, with a sudden grimness, "that's the point." + +I felt I was lost. With all my strength, I plucked myself clear +of him and ran to the bulwarks. Sure enough, there was the boat +pulling for the town, with my uncle sitting in the stern. I gave +a piercing cry -- "Help, help! Murder!" -- so that both sides of +the anchorage rang with it, and my uncle turned round where he +was sitting, and showed me a face full of cruelty and terror. + +It was the last I saw. Already strong hands had been plucking me +back from the ship's side; and now a thunderbolt seemed to strike +me; I saw a great flash of fire, and fell senseless. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG "COVENANT" OF DYSART + +I came to myself in darkness, in great pain, bound hand and foot, +and deafened by many unfamiliar noises. There sounded in my ears +a roaring of water as of a huge mill-dam, the thrashing of heavy +sprays, the thundering of the sails, and the shrill cries of +seamen. The whole world now heaved giddily up, and now rushed +giddily downward; and so sick and hurt was I in body, and my mind +so much confounded, that it took me a long while, chasing my +thoughts up and down, and ever stunned again by a fresh stab of +pain, to realise that I must be lying somewhere bound in the +belly of that unlucky ship, and that the wind must have +strengthened to a gale. With the clear perception of my plight, +there fell upon me a blackness of despair, a horror of remorse at +my own folly, and a passion of anger at my uncle, that once more +bereft me of my senses. + +When I returned again to life, the same uproar, the same confused +and violent movements, shook and deafened me; and presently, to +my other pains and distresses, there was added the sickness of an +unused landsman on the sea. In that time of my adventurous +youth, I suffered many hardships; but none that was so crushing +to my mind and body, or lit by so few hopes, as these first hours +aboard the brig. + +I heard a gun fire, and supposed the storm had proved too strong +for us, and we were firing signals of distress. The thought of +deliverance, even by death in the deep sea, was welcome to me. +Yet it was no such matter; but (as I was afterwards told) a +common habit of the captain's, which I here set down to show that +even the worst man may have his kindlier side. We were then +passing, it appeared, within some miles of Dysart, where the brig +was built, and where old Mrs. Hoseason, the captain's mother, had +come some years before to live; and whether outward or inward +bound, the Covenant was never suffered to go by that place by +day, without a gun fired and colours shown. + +I had no measure of time; day and night were alike in that +ill-smelling cavern of the ship's bowels where, I lay; and the +misery of my situation drew out the hours to double. How long, +therefore, I lay waiting to hear the ship split upon some rock, +or to feel her reel head foremost into the depths of the sea, I +have not the means of computation. But sleep at length stole +from me the consciousness of sorrow. + +I was awakened by the light of a hand-lantern shining in my face. +A small man of about thirty, with green eyes and a tangle of fair +hair, stood looking down at me. + +"Well," said he, "how goes it?" + +I answered by a sob; and my visitor then felt my pulse and +temples, and set himself to wash and dress the wound upon my +scalp. + +"Ay," said he, "a sore dunt[10]. What, man? Cheer up! The +world's no done; you've made a bad start of it but you'll make a +better. Have you had any meat?" + +[10] Stroke. + + +I said I could not look at it: and thereupon he gave me some +brandy and water in a tin pannikin, and left me once more to +myself. + +The next time he came to see me, I was lying betwixt sleep and +waking, my eyes wide open in the darkness, the sickness quite +departed, but succeeded by a horrid giddiness and swimming that +was almost worse to bear. I ached, besides, in every limb, and +the cords that bound me seemed to be of fire. The smell of the +hole in which I lay seemed to have become a part of me; and +during the long interval since his last visit I had suffered +tortures of fear, now from the scurrying of the ship's rats, that +sometimes pattered on my very face, and now from the dismal +imaginings that haunt the bed of fever. + +The glimmer of the lantern, as a trap opened, shone in like the +heaven's sunlight; and though it only showed me the strong, dark +beams of the ship that was my prison, I could have cried aloud +for gladness. The man with the green eyes was the first to +descend the ladder, and I noticed that he came somewhat +unsteadily. He was followed by the captain. Neither said a +word; but the first set to and examined me, and dressed my wound +as before, while Hoseason looked me in my face with an odd, black +look. + +"Now, sir, you see for yourself," said the first: "a high fever, +no appetite, no light, no meat: you see for yourself what that +means." + +"I am no conjurer, Mr. Riach," said the captain. + +"Give me leave, sir" said Riach; "you've a good head upon your +shoulders, and a good Scotch tongue to ask with; but I will leave +you no manner of excuse; I want that boy taken out of this hole +and put in the forecastle." + +"What ye may want, sir, is a matter of concern to nobody but +yoursel'," returned the captain; "but I can tell ye that which is +to be. Here he is; here he shall bide." + +"Admitting that you have been paid in a proportion," said the +other, "I will crave leave humbly to say that I have not. Paid I +am, and none too much, to be the second officer of this old tub, +and you ken very well if I do my best to earn it. But I was paid +for nothing more." + +"If ye could hold back your hand from the tin-pan, Mr. Riach, I +would have no complaint to make of ye," returned the skipper; +"and instead of asking riddles, I make bold to say that ye would +keep your breath to cool your porridge. We'll be required on +deck," he added, in a sharper note, and set one foot upon the +ladder. + +But Mr. Riach caught him by the sleeve. + +"Admitting that you have been paid to do a murder ----" he began. + +Hoseason turned upon him with a flash. + +"What's that?" he cried. "What kind of talk is that?" + +"It seems it is the talk that you can understand," said Mr. +Riach, looking him steadily in the face. + +"Mr. Riach, I have sailed with ye three cruises," replied the +captain. "In all that time, sir, ye should have learned to know +me: I'm a stiff man, and a dour man; but for what ye say the now +-- fie, fie! -- it comes from a bad heart and a black conscience. +If ye say the lad will die----" + +"Ay, will he!" said Mr. Riach. + +"Well, sir, is not that enough?" said Hoseason. "Flit him where +ye please!" + +Thereupon the captain ascended the ladder; and I, who had lain +silent throughout this strange conversation, beheld Mr. Riach +turn after him and bow as low as to his knees in what was plainly +a spirit of derision. Even in my then state of sickness, I +perceived two things: that the mate was touched with liquor, as +the captain hinted, and that (drunk or sober) he was like to +prove a valuable friend. + +Five minutes afterwards my bonds were cut, I was hoisted on a +man's back, carried up to the forecastle, and laid in a bunk on +some sea-blankets; where the first thing that I did was to lose +my senses. + +It was a blessed thing indeed to open my eyes again upon the +daylight, and to find myself in the society of men. The +forecastle was a roomy place enough, set all about with berths, +in which the men of the watch below were seated smoking, or lying +down asleep. The day being calm and the wind fair, the scuttle +was open, and not only the good daylight, but from time to time +(as the ship rolled) a dusty beam of sunlight shone in, and +dazzled and delighted me. I had no sooner moved, moreover, than +one of the men brought me a drink of something healing which Mr. +Riach had prepared, and bade me lie still and I should soon be +well again. There were no bones broken, he explained: "A +clour[11] on the head was naething. Man," said he, "it was me +that gave it ye!" + +[11] Blow. + + +Here I lay for the space of many days a close prisoner, and not +only got my health again, but came to know my companions. They +were a rough lot indeed, as sailors mostly are: being men rooted +out of all the kindly parts of life, and condemned to toss +together on the rough seas, with masters no less cruel. There +were some among them that had sailed with the pirates and seen +things it would be a shame even to speak of; some were men that +had run from the king's ships, and went with a halter round their +necks, of which they made no secret; and all, as the saying goes, +were "at a word and a blow" with their best friends. Yet I had +not been many days shut up with them before I began to be ashamed +of my first judgment, when I had drawn away from them at the +Ferry pier, as though they had been unclean beasts. No class of +man is altogether bad, but each has its own faults and virtues; +and these shipmates of mine were no exception to the rule. Rough +they were, sure enough; and bad, I suppose; but they had many +virtues. They were kind when it occurred to them, simple even +beyond the simplicity of a country lad like me, and had some +glimmerings of honesty. + +There was one man, of maybe forty, that would sit on my berthside +for hours and tell me of his wife and child. He was a fisher +that had lost his boat, and thus been driven to the deep-sea +voyaging. Well, it is years ago now: but I have never forgotten +him. His wife (who was "young by him," as he often told me) +waited in vain to see her man return; he would never again make +the fire for her in the morning, nor yet keep the bairn when she +was sick. Indeed, many of these poor fellows (as the event +proved) were upon their last cruise; the deep seas and cannibal +fish received them; and it is a thankless business to speak ill +of the dead. + +Among other good deeds that they did, they returned my money, +which had been shared among them; and though it was about a third +short, I was very glad to get it, and hoped great good from it in +the land I was going to. The ship was bound for the Carolinas; +and you must not suppose that I was going to that place merely as +an exile. The trade was even then much depressed; since that, +and with the rebellion of the colonies and the formation of the +United States, it has, of course, come to an end; but in those +days of my youth, white men were still sold into slavery on the +plantations, and that was the destiny to which my wicked uncle +had condemned me. + +The cabin-boy Ransome (from whom I had first heard of these +atrocities) came in at times from the round-house, where he +berthed and served, now nursing a bruised limb in silent agony, +now raving against the cruelty of Mr. Shuan. It made my heart +bleed; but the men had a great respect for the chief mate, who +was, as they said, "the only seaman of the whole jing-bang, and +none such a bad man when he was sober." Indeed, I found there +was a strange peculiarity about our two mates: that Mr. Riach was +sullen, unkind, and harsh when he was sober, and Mr. Shuan would +not hurt a fly except when he was drinking. I asked about the +captain; but I was told drink made no difference upon that man of +iron. + +I did my best in the small time allowed me to make some thing +like a man, or rather I should say something like a boy, of the +poor creature, Ransome. But his mind was scarce truly human. He +could remember nothing of the time before he came to sea; only +that his father had made clocks, and had a starling in the +parlour, which could whistle "The North Countrie;" all else had +been blotted out in these years of hardship and cruelties. He +had a strange notion of the dry land, picked up from sailor's +stories: that it was a place where lads were put to some kind of +slavery called a trade, and where apprentices were continually +lashed and clapped into foul prisons. In a town, he thought +every second person a decoy, and every third house a place in +which seamen would be drugged and murdered. To be sure, I would +tell him how kindly I had myself been used upon that dry land he +was so much afraid of, and how well fed and carefully taught both +by my friends and my parents: and if he had been recently hurt, +he would weep bitterly and swear to run away; but if he was in +his usual crackbrain humour, or (still more) if he had had a +glass of spirits in the roundhouse, he would deride the notion. + +It was Mr. Riach (Heaven forgive him!) who gave the boy drink; +and it was, doubtless, kindly meant; but besides that it was ruin +to his health, it was the pitifullest thing in life to see this +unhappy, unfriended creature staggering, and dancing, and talking +he knew not what. Some of the men laughed, but not all; others +would grow as black as thunder (thinking, perhaps, of their own +childhood or their own children) and bid him stop that nonsense, +and think what he was doing. As for me, I felt ashamed to look +at him, and the poor child still comes about me in my dreams. + +All this time, you should know, the Covenant was meeting +continual head-winds and tumbling up and down against head-seas, +so that the scuttle was almost constantly shut, and the +forecastle lighted only by a swinging lantern on a beam. There +was constant labour for all hands; the sails had to be made and +shortened every hour; the strain told on the men's temper; there +was a growl of quarrelling all day, long from berth to berth; and +as I was never allowed to set my foot on deck, you can picture to +yourselves how weary of my life I grew to be, and how impatient +for a change. + +And a change I was to get, as you shall hear; but I must first +tell of a conversation I had with Mr. Riach, which put a little +heart in me to bear my troubles. Getting him in a favourable +stage of drink (for indeed he never looked near me when he was +sober), I pledged him to secrecy, and told him my whole story. + +He declared it was like a ballad; that he would do his best to +help me; that I should have paper, pen, and ink, and write one +line to Mr. Campbell and another to Mr. Rankeillor; and that if I +had told the truth, ten to one he would be able (with their help) +to pull me through and set me in my rights. + +"And in the meantime," says he, "keep your heart up. You're not +the only one, I'll tell you that. There's many a man hoeing +tobacco over-seas that should be mounting his horse at his own +door at home; many and many! And life is all a variorum, at the +best. Look at me: I'm a laird's son and more than half a doctor, +and here I am, man-Jack to Hoseason!" + +I thought it would be civil to ask him for his story. + +He whistled loud. + +"Never had one," said he. "I like fun, that's all." And he +skipped out of the forecastle. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE ROUND-HOUSE + +One night, about eleven o'clock, a man of Mr. Riach's watch +(which was on deck) came below for his jacket; and instantly +there began to go a whisper about the forecastle that "Shuan had +done for him at last." There was no need of a name; we all knew +who was meant; but we had scarce time to get the idea rightly in +our heads, far less to speak of it, when the scuttle was again +flung open, and Captain Hoseason came down the ladder. He looked +sharply round the bunks in the tossing light of the lantern; and +then, walking straight up to me, he addressed me, to my surprise, +in tones of kindness. + +"My man," said he, "we want ye to serve in the round-house. You +and Ransome are to change berths. Run away aft with ye." + +Even as he spoke, two seamen appeared in the scuttle, carrying +Ransome in their arms; and the ship at that moment giving a great +sheer into the sea, and the lantern swinging, the light fell +direct on the boy's face. It was as white as wax, and had a look +upon it like a dreadful smile. The blood in me ran cold, and I +drew in my breath as if I had been struck. + +"Run away aft; run away aft with ye!" cried Hoseason. + +And at that I brushed by the sailors and the boy (who neither +spoke nor moved), and ran up the ladder on deck. + +The brig was sheering swiftly and giddily through a long, +cresting swell. She was on the starboard tack, and on the left +hand, under the arched foot of the foresail, I could see the +sunset still quite bright. This, at such an hour of the night, +surprised me greatly; but I was too ignorant to draw the true +conclusion -- that we were going north-about round Scotland, and +were now on the high sea between the Orkney and Shetland Islands, +having avoided the dangerous currents of the Pentland Firth. For +my part, who had been so long shut in the dark and knew nothing +of head-winds, I thought we might be half-way or more across the +Atlantic. And indeed (beyond that I wondered a little at the +lateness of the sunset light) I gave no heed to it, and pushed on +across the decks, running between the seas, catching at ropes, +and only saved from going overboard by one of the hands on deck, +who had been always kind to me. + +The round-house, for which I was bound, and where I was now to +sleep and serve, stood some six feet above the decks, and +considering the size of the brig, was of good dimensions. Inside +were a fixed table and bench, and two berths, one for the captain +and the other for the two mates, turn and turn about. It was all +fitted with lockers from top to bottom, so as to stow away the +officers' belongings and a part of the ship's stores; there was a +second store-room underneath, which you entered by a hatchway in +the middle of the deck; indeed, all the best of the meat and +drink and the whole of the powder were collected in this place; +and all the firearms, except the two pieces of brass ordnance, +were set in a rack in the aftermost wall of the round-house. The +most of the cutlasses were in another place. + +A small window with a shutter on each side, and a skylight in the +roof, gave it light by, day; and after dark there was a lamp +always burning. It was burning when I entered, not brightly, but +enough to show Mr. Shuan sitting at the table, with the brandy +bottle and a tin pannikin in front of him. He was a tall man, +strongly made and very black; and he stared before him on the +table like one stupid. + +He took no notice of my coming in; nor did he move when the +captain followed and leant on the berth beside me, looking darkly +at the mate. I stood in great fear of Hoseason, and had my +reasons for it; but something told me I need not be afraid of him +just then; and I whispered in his ear: "How is he?" He shook his +head like one that does not know and does not wish to think, and +his face was very stern. + +Presently Mr. Riach came in. He gave the captain a glance that +meant the boy was dead as plain as speaking, and took his place +like the rest of us; so that we all three stood without a word, +staring down at Mr. Shuan, and Mr. Shuan (on his side) sat +without a word, looking hard upon the table. + +All of a sudden he put out his hand to take the bottle; and at +that Mr. Riach started forward and caught it away from him, +rather by surprise than violence, crying out, with an oath, that +there had been too much of this work altogether, and that a +judgment would fall upon the ship. And as he spoke (the weather +sliding-doors standing open) he tossed the bottle into the sea. + +Mr. Shuan was on his feet in a trice; he still looked dazed, but +he meant murder, ay, and would have done it, for the second time +that night, had not the captain stepped in between him and his +victim. + +"Sit down!" roars the captain. "Ye sot and swine, do ye know +what ye've done? Ye've murdered the boy!" + +Mr. Shuan seemed to understand; for he sat down again, and put up +his hand to his brow. + +"Well," he said, "he brought me a dirty pannikin!" + +At that word, the captain and I and Mr. Riach all looked at each +other for a second with a kind of frightened look; and then +Hoseason walked up to his chief officer, took him by the +shoulder, led him across to his bunk, and bade him lie down and +go to sleep, as you might speak to a bad child. The murderer +cried a little, but he took off his sea-boots and obeyed. + +"Ah!" cried Mr. Riach, with a dreadful voice, "ye should have +interfered long syne. It's too late now." + +"Mr. Riach," said the captain, "this night's work must never be +kennt in Dysart. The boy went overboard, sir; that's what the +story is; and I would give five pounds out of my pocket it was +true!" He turned to the table. "What made ye throw the good +bottle away?" he added. "There was nae sense in that, sir. +Here, David, draw me another. They're in the bottom locker;" and +he tossed me a key. "Ye'll need a glass yourself, sir," he added +to Riach. "Yon was an ugly thing to see." + +So the pair sat down and hob-a-nobbed; and while they did so, the +murderer, who had been lying and whimpering in his berth, raised +himself upon his elbow and looked at them and at me. + +That was the first night of my new duties; and in the course of +the next day I had got well into the run of them. I had to serve +at the meals, which the captain took at regular hours, sitting +down with the officer who was off duty; all the day through I +would be running with a dram to one or other of my three masters; +and at night I slept on a blanket thrown on the deck boards at +the aftermost end of the round-house, and right in the draught of +the two doors. It was a hard and a cold bed; nor was I suffered +to sleep without interruption; for some one would be always +coming in from deck to get a dram, and when a fresh watch was to +be set, two and sometimes all three would sit down and brew a +bowl together. How they kept their health, I know not, any more +than how I kept my own. + +And yet in other ways it was an easy service. There was no cloth +to lay; the meals were either of oatmeal porridge or salt junk, +except twice a week, when there was duff: and though I was clumsy +enough and (not being firm on my sealegs) sometimes fell with +what I was bringing them, both Mr. Riach and the captain were +singularly patient. I could not but fancy they were making up +lee-way with their consciences, and that they would scarce have +been so good with me if they had not been worse with Ransome. + +As for Mr. Shuan, the drink or his crime, or the two together, +had certainly troubled his mind. I cannot say I ever saw him in +his proper wits. He never grew used to my being there, stared at +me continually (sometimes, I could have thought, with terror), +and more than once drew back from my hand when I was serving him. +I was pretty sure from the first that he had no clear mind of +what he had done, and on my second day in the round-house I had +the proof of it. We were alone, and he had been staring at me a +long time, when all at once, up he got, as pale as death, and +came close up to me, to my great terror. But I had no cause to +be afraid of him. + +"You were not here before?" he asked. + +"No, sir," said I." + +"There was another boy?" he asked again; and when I had answered +him, "Ah!" says he, "I thought that," and went and sat down, +without another word, except to call for brandy. + +You may think it strange, but for all the horror I had, I was +still sorry for him. He was a married man, with a wife in Leith; +but whether or no he had a family, I have now forgotten; I hope +not. + +Altogether it was no very hard life for the time it lasted, which +(as you are to hear) was not long. I was as well fed as the best +of them; even their pickles, which were the great dainty, I was +allowed my share of; and had I liked I might have been drunk from +morning to night, like Mr. Shuan. I had company, too, and good +company of its sort. Mr. Riach, who had been to the college, +spoke to me like a friend when he was not sulking, and told me +many curious things, and some that were informing; and even the +captain, though he kept me at the stick's end the most part of +the time, would sometimes unbuckle a bit, and tell me of the fine +countries he had visited. + +The shadow of poor Ransome, to be sure, lay on all four of us, +and on me and Mr. Shuan in particular, most heavily. And then I +had another trouble of my own. Here I was, doing dirty work for +three men that I looked down upon, and one of whom, at least, +should have hung upon a gallows; that was for the present; and as +for the future, I could only see myself slaving alongside of +negroes in the tobacco fields. Mr. Riach, perhaps from caution, +would never suffer me to say another word about my story; the +captain, whom I tried to approach, rebuffed me like a dog and +would not hear a word; and as the days came and went, my heart +sank lower and lower, till I was even glad of the work which kept +me from thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD + +More than a week went by, in which the ill-luck that had hitherto +pursued the Covenant upon this voyage grew yet more strongly +marked. Some days she made a little way; others, she was driven +actually back. At last we were beaten so far to the south that +we tossed and tacked to and fro the whole of the ninth day, +within sight of Cape Wrath and the wild, rocky coast on either +hand of it. There followed on that a council of the officers, +and some decision which I did not rightly understand, seeing only +the result: that we had made a fair wind of a foul one and were +running south. + +The tenth afternoon there was a falling swell and a thick, wet, +white fog that hid one end of the brig from the other. All +afternoon, when I went on deck, I saw men and officers listening +hard over the bulwarks -- "for breakers," they said; and though I +did not so much as understand the word, I felt danger in the air, +and was excited. + +Maybe about ten at night, I was serving Mr. Riach and the captain +at their supper, when the ship struck something with a great +sound, and we heard voices singing out. My two masters leaped to +their feet. + +"She's struck!" said Mr. Riach. + +"No, sir," said the captain. "We've only run a boat down." + +And they hurried out. + +The captain was in the right of it. We had run down a boat in +the fog, and she had parted in the midst and gone to the bottom +with all her crew but one. This man (as I heard afterwards) had +been sitting in the stern as a passenger, while the rest were on +the benches rowing. At the moment of the blow, the stern had +been thrown into the air, and the man (having his hands free, and +for all he was encumbered with a frieze overcoat that came below +his knees) had leaped up and caught hold of the brig's bowsprit. +It showed he had luck and much agility and unusual strength, that +he should have thus saved himself from such a pass. And yet, +when the captain brought him into the round-house, and I set eyes +on him for the first time, he looked as cool as I did. + +He was smallish in stature, but well set and as nimble as a goat; +his face was of a good open expression, but sunburnt very dark, +and heavily freckled and pitted with the small-pox; his eyes were +unusually light and had a kind of dancing madness in them, that +was both engaging and alarming; and when he took off his +great-coat, he laid a pair of fine silver-mounted pistols on the +table, and I saw that he was belted with a great sword. His +manners, besides, were elegant, and he pledged the captain +handsomely. Altogether I thought of him, at the first sight, +that here was a man I would rather call my friend than my enemy. + +The captain, too, was taking his observations, but rather of the +man's clothes than his person. And to be sure, as soon as he had +taken off the great-coat, he showed forth mighty fine for the +round-house of a merchant brig: having a hat with feathers, a red +waistcoat, breeches of black plush, and a blue coat with silver +buttons and handsome silver lace; costly clothes, though somewhat +spoiled with the fog and being slept in. + +"I'm vexed, sir, about the boat," says the captain. + +"There are some pretty men gone to the bottom," said the +stranger, "that I would rather see on the dry land again than +half a score of boats." + +"Friends of yours?" said Hoseason. + +"You have none such friends in your country," was the reply. +"They would have died for me like dogs." + +"Well, sir," said the captain, still watching him, "there are +more men in the world than boats to put them in." + +"And that's true, too," cried the other, "and ye seem to be a +gentleman of great penetration." + +"I have been in France, sir," says the captain, so that it was +plain he meant more by the words than showed upon the face of +them. + +"Well, sir," says the other, "and so has many a pretty man, for +the matter of that." + +"No doubt, sir" says the captain, "and fine coats." + +"Oho!" says the stranger, "is that how the wind sets?" And he +laid his hand quickly on his pistols. + +"Don't be hasty," said the captain. "Don't do a mischief before +ye see the need of it. Ye've a French soldier's coat upon your +back and a Scotch tongue in your head, to be sure; but so has +many an honest fellow in these days, and I dare say none the +worse of it." + +"So?" said the gentleman in the fine coat: "are ye of the honest +party?" (meaning, Was he a Jacobite? for each side, in these sort +of civil broils, takes the name of honesty for its own). + +"Why, sir," replied the captain, "I am a true-blue Protestant, +and I thank God for it." (It was the first word of any religion +I had ever heard from him, but I learnt afterwards he was a great +church-goer while on shore.) "But, for all that," says he, "I +can be sorry to see another man with his back to the wall." + +"Can ye so, indeed?" asked the Jacobite. "Well, sir, to be quite +plain with ye, I am one of those honest gentlemen that were in +trouble about the years forty-five and six; and (to be still +quite plain with ye) if I got into the hands of any of the +red-coated gentry, it's like it would go hard with me. Now, sir, +I was for France; and there was a French ship cruising here to +pick me up; but she gave us the go-by in the fog -- as I wish +from the heart that ye had done yoursel'! And the best that I can +say is this: If ye can set me ashore where I was going, I have +that upon me will reward you highly for your trouble." + +"In France?" says the captain. "No, sir; that I cannot do. But +where ye come from -- we might talk of that." + +And then, unhappily, he observed me standing in my corner, and +packed me off to the galley to get supper for the gentleman. I +lost no time, I promise you; and when I came back into the +round-house, I found the gentleman had taken a money-belt from +about his waist, and poured out a guinea or two upon the table. +The captain was looking at the guineas, and then at the belt, and +then at the gentleman's face; and I thought he seemed excited. + +"Half of it," he cried, "and I'm your man!" + +The other swept back the guineas into the belt, and put it on +again under his waistcoat. "I have told ye" sir" said he, "that +not one doit of it belongs to me. It belongs to my chieftain," +and here he touched his hat, "and while I would be but a silly +messenger to grudge some of it that the rest might come safe, I +should show myself a hound indeed if I bought my own carcase any +too dear. Thirty guineas on the sea-side, or sixty if ye set me +on the Linnhe Loch. Take it, if ye will; if not, ye can do your +worst." + +"Ay," said Hoseason. "And if I give ye over to the soldiers?" + +"Ye would make a fool's bargain," said the other. "My chief, let +me tell you, sir, is forfeited, like every honest man in +Scotland. His estate is in the hands of the man they call King +George; and it is his officers that collect the rents, or try to +collect them. But for the honour of Scotland, the poor tenant +bodies take a thought upon their chief lying in exile; and this +money is a part of that very rent for which King George is +looking. Now, sir, ye seem to me to be a man that understands +things: bring this money within the reach of Government, and how +much of it'll come to you?" + +"Little enough, to be sure," said Hoseason; and then, "if they, +knew" he added, drily. "But I think, if I was to try, that I +could hold my tongue about it." + +"Ah, but I'll begowk[12] ye there!" cried the gentleman. "Play +me false, and I'll play you cunning. If a hand is laid upon me, +they shall ken what money it is." + +[12]Befool. + + +"Well," returned the captain, "what must be must. Sixty guineas, +and done. Here's my hand upon it." + +"And here's mine," said the other. + +And thereupon the captain went out (rather hurriedly, I thought), +and left me alone in the round-house with the stranger. + +At that period (so soon after the forty-five) there were many +exiled gentlemen coming back at the peril of their lives, either +to see their friends or to collect a little money; and as for the +Highland chiefs that had been forfeited, it was a common matter +of talk how their tenants would stint themselves to send them +money, and their clansmen outface the soldiery to get it in, and +run the gauntlet of our great navy to carry it across. All this +I had, of course, heard tell of; and now I had a man under my +eyes whose life was forfeit on all these counts and upon one +more, for he was not only a rebel and a smuggler of rents, but +had taken service with King Louis of France. And as if all this +were not enough, he had a belt full of golden guineas round his +loins. Whatever my opinions, I could not look on such a man +without a lively interest. + +"And so you're a Jacobite?" said I, as I set meat before him. + +"Ay," said he, beginning to eat. "And you, by your long face, +should be a Whig?"[13] + +[13] Whig or Whigamore was the cant name for those who were loyal +to King George. + + +"Betwixt and between," said I, not to annoy him; for indeed I was +as good a Whig as Mr. Campbell could make me. + +"And that's naething," said he. "But I'm saying, Mr. +Betwixt-and-Between," he added, "this bottle of yours is dry; and +it's hard if I'm to pay sixty guineas and be grudged a dram upon +the back of it." + +"I'll go and ask for the key," said I, and stepped on deck. + +The fog was as close as ever, but the swell almost down. They +had laid the brig to, not knowing precisely where they were, and +the wind (what little there was of it) not serving well for their +true course. Some of the hands were still hearkening for +breakers; but the captain and the two officers were in the waist +with their heads together. It struck me (I don't know why) that +they were after no good; and the first word I heard, as I drew +softly near, more than confirmed me. + +It was Mr. Riach, crying out as if upon a sudden thought: +"Couldn't we wile him out of the round-house?" + +"He's better where he is," returned Hoseason; "he hasn't room to +use his sword." + +"Well, that's true," said Riach; "but he's hard to come at." + +"Hut!" said Hoseason. "We can get the man in talk, one upon each +side, and pin him by the two arms; or if that'll not hold, sir, +we can make a run by both the doors and get him under hand before +he has the time to draw" + +At this hearing, I was seized with both fear and anger at these +treacherous, greedy, bloody men that I sailed with. My first +mind was to run away; my second was bolder. + +"Captain," said I, "the gentleman is seeking a dram, and the +bottle's out. Will you give me the key?" + +They all started and turned about. + +"Why, here's our chance to get the firearms!" + +Riach cried; and then to me: "Hark ye, David," he said, "do ye +ken where the pistols are?" + +"Ay, ay," put in Hoseason. "David kens; David's a good lad. Ye +see, David my man, yon wild Hielandman is a danger to the ship, +besides being a rank foe to King George, God bless him!" + +I had never been so be-Davided since I came on board: but I said +Yes, as if all I heard were quite natural. + +"The trouble is," resumed the captain, "that all our firelocks, +great and little, are in the round-house under this man's nose; +likewise the powder. Now, if I, or one of the officers, was to +go in and take them, he would fall to thinking. But a lad like +you, David, might snap up a horn and a pistol or two without +remark. And if ye can do it cleverly, I'll bear it in mind when +it'll be good for you to have friends; and that's when we come to +Carolina." + +Here Mr. Riach whispered him a little. + +"Very right, sir," said the captain; and then to myself: "And see +here, David, yon man has a beltful of gold, and I give you my +word that you shall have your fingers in it." + +I told him I would do as he wished, though indeed I had scarce +breath to speak with; and upon that he gave me the key of the +spirit locker, and I began to go slowly back to the round-house. +What was I to do? They were dogs and thieves; they had stolen me +from my own country; they had killed poor Ransome; and was I to +hold the candle to another murder? But then, upon the other hand, +there was the fear of death very plain before me; for what could +a boy and a man, if they were as brave as lions, against a whole +ship's company? + +I was still arguing it back and forth, and getting no great +clearness, when I came into the round-house and saw the Jacobite +eating his supper under the lamp; and at that my mind was made up +all in a moment. I have no credit by it; it was by no choice of +mine, but as if by compulsion, that I walked right up to the +table and put my hand on his shoulder. + +"Do ye want to be killed?" said I. He sprang to his feet, and +looked a question at me as clear as if he had spoken. + +"O!" cried I, "they're all murderers here; it's a ship full of +them! They've murdered a boy already. Now it's you." + +"Ay, ay" said he; "but they have n't got me yet." And then +looking at me curiously, "Will ye stand with me?" + +"That will I!" said I. "I am no thief, nor yet murderer. I'll +stand by you." + +"Why, then," said he, "what's your name?" + +"David Balfour," said I; and then, thinking that a man with so +fine a coat must like fine people, I added for the first time, +"of Shaws." + +It never occurred to him to doubt me, for a Highlander is used to +see great gentlefolk in great poverty; but as he had no estate of +his own, my words nettled a very childish vanity he had. + +"My name is Stewart," he said, drawing himself up. "Alan Breck, +they call me. A king's name is good enough for me, though I bear +it plain and have the name of no farm-midden to clap to the +hind-end of it." + +And having administered this rebuke, as though it were something +of a chief importance, he turned to examine our defences. + +The round-house was built very strong, to support the breaching +of the seas. Of its five apertures, only the skylight and the +two doors were large enough for the passage of a man. The doors, +besides, could be drawn close: they were of stout oak, and ran in +grooves, and were fitted with hooks to keep them either shut or +open, as the need arose. The one that was already shut I secured +in this fashion; but when I was proceeding to slide to the other, +Alan stopped me. + +"David," said he -- "for I cannae bring to mind the name of your +landed estate, and so will make so bold as to call you David -- +that door, being open, is the best part of my defences." + +"It would be yet better shut," says I. + +"Not so, David," says he. "Ye see, I have but one face; but so +long as that door is open and my face to it, the best part of my +enemies will be in front of me, where I would aye wish to find +them." + +Then he gave me from the rack a cutlass (of which there were a +few besides the firearms), choosing it with great care, shaking +his head and saying he had never in all his life seen poorer +weapons; and next he set me down to the table with a powder-horn, +a bag of bullets and all the pistols, which he bade me charge. + +"And that will be better work, let me tell you," said he, "for a +gentleman of decent birth, than scraping plates and raxing[14] +drams to a wheen tarry sailors." + +[14]Reaching. + + +Thereupon he stood up in the midst with his face to the door, and +drawing his great sword, made trial of the room he had to wield +it in. + +"I must stick to the point," he said, shaking his head; "and +that's a pity, too. It doesn't set my genius, which is all for +the upper guard. And, now" said he, "do you keep on charging the +pistols, and give heed to me." + +I told him I would listen closely. My chest was tight, my mouth +dry, the light dark to my eyes; the thought of the numbers that +were soon to leap in upon us kept my heart in a flutter: and the +sea, which I heard washing round the brig, and where I thought my +dead body would be cast ere morning, ran in my mind strangely. + +"First of all," said he, "how many are against us?" + +I reckoned them up; and such was the hurry of my mind, I had to +cast the numbers twice. "Fifteen," said I. + +Alan whistled. "Well," said he, "that can't be cured. And now +follow me. It is my part to keep this door, where I look for the +main battle. In that, ye have no hand. And mind and dinnae fire +to this side unless they get me down; for I would rather have ten +foes in front of me than one friend like you cracking pistols at +my back." + +I told him, indeed I was no great shot. + +"And that, s very bravely said," he cried, in a great admiration +of my candour. "There's many a pretty gentleman that wouldnae +dare to say it." + +"But then, sir" said I, "there is the door behind you" which they +may perhaps break in." + +"Ay," said he, "and that is a part of your work. No sooner the +pistols charged, than ye must climb up into yon bed where ye're +handy at the window; and if they lift hand, against the door, +ye're to shoot. But that's not all. Let's make a bit of a +soldier of ye, David. What else have ye to guard?" + +"There's the skylight," said I. "But indeed, Mr. Stewart, I +would need to have eyes upon both sides to keep the two of them; +for when my face is at the one, my back is to the other." + +"And that's very true," said Alan. "But have ye no ears to your +head?" + +"To be sure!" cried I. "I must hear the bursting of the glass!" + +"Ye have some rudiments of sense," said Alan, grimly. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE + +But now our time of truce was come to an end. Those on deck had +waited for my coming till they grew impatient; and scarce had +Alan spoken, when the captain showed face in the open door. + +"Stand!" cried Alan, and pointed his sword at him. The captain +stood, indeed; but he neither winced nor drew back a foot. + +"A naked sword?" says he. "This is a strange return for +hospitality." + +"Do ye see me?" said Alan. "I am come of kings; I bear a king's +name. My badge is the oak. Do ye see my sword? It has slashed +the heads off mair Whigamores than you have toes upon your feet. +Call up your vermin to your back, sir, and fall on! The sooner +the clash begins, the sooner ye'll taste this steel throughout +your vitals." + +The captain said nothing to Alan, but he looked over at me with +an ugly look. "David," said he, "I'll mind this;" and the sound +of his voice went through me with a jar. + +Next moment he was gone. + +"And now," said Alan, "let your hand keep your head, for the grip +is coming." + +Alan drew a dirk, which he held in his left hand in case they +should run in under his sword. I, on my part, clambered up into +the berth with an armful of pistols and something of a heavy +heart, and set open the window where I was to watch. It was a +small part of the deck that I could overlook, but enough for our +purpose. The sea had gone down, and the wind was steady and kept +the sails quiet; so that there was a great stillness in the ship, +in which I made sure I heard the sound of muttering voices. A +little after, and there came a clash of steel upon the deck, by +which I knew they were dealing out the cutlasses and one had been +let fall; and after that, silence again. + +I do not know if I was what you call afraid; but my heart beat +like a bird's, both quick and little; and there was a dimness +came before my eyes which I continually rubbed away, and which +continually returned. As for hope, I had none; but only a +darkness of despair and a sort of anger against all the world +that made me long to sell my life as dear as I was able. I tried +to pray, I remember, but that same hurry of my mind, like a man +running, would not suffer me to think upon the words; and my +chief wish was to have the thing begin and be done with it. + +It came all of a sudden when it did, with a rush of feet and a +roar, and then a shout from Alan, and a sound of blows and some +one crying out as if hurt. I looked back over my shoulder, and +saw Mr. Shuan in the doorway, crossing blades with Alan. + +"That's him that killed the boy!" I cried. + +"Look to your window!" said Alan; and as I turned back to my +place, I saw him pass his sword through the mate's body. + +It was none too soon for me to look to my own part; for my head +was scarce back at the window, before five men, carrying a spare +yard for a battering-ram, ran past me and took post to drive the +door in. I had never fired with a pistol in my life, and not +often with a gun; far less against a fellow-creature. But it was +now or never; and just as they swang the yard, I cried out: "Take +that!" and shot into their midst. + +I must have hit one of them, for he sang out and gave back a +step, and the rest stopped as if a little disconcerted. Before +they had time to recover, I sent another ball over their heads; +and at my third shot (which went as wide as the second) the whole +party threw down the yard and ran for it. + +Then I looked round again into the deck-house. The whole place +was full of the smoke of my own firing, just as my ears seemed to +be burst with the noise of the shots. But there was Alan, +standing as before; only now his sword was running blood to the +hilt, and himself so swelled with triumph and fallen into so fine +an attitude, that he looked to be invincible. Right before him +on the floor was Mr. Shuan, on his hands and knees; the blood was +pouring from his mouth, and he was sinking slowly lower, with a +terrible, white face; and just as I looked, some of those from +behind caught hold of him by the heels and dragged him bodily out +of the round-house. I believe he died as they were doing it. + +"There's one of your Whigs for ye!" cried Alan; and then turning +to me, he asked if I had done much execution. + +I told him I had winged one, and thought it was the captain. + +"And I've settled two," says he. "No, there's not enough blood +let; they'll be back again. To your watch, David. This was but +a dram before meat." + +I settled back to my place, re-charging the three pistols I had +fired, and keeping watch with both eye and ear. + +Our enemies were disputing not far off upon the deck, and that so +loudly that I could hear a word or two above the washing of the +seas. + +"It was Shuan bauchled[15] it," I heard one say. + +[15]Bungled. + + +And another answered him with a "Wheesht, man! He's paid the +piper." + +After that the voices fell again into the same muttering as +before. Only now, one person spoke most of the time, as though +laying down a plan, and first one and then another answered him +briefly, like men taking orders. By this, I made sure they were +coming on again, and told Alan. + +"It's what we have to pray for," said he. "Unless we can give +them a good distaste of us, and done with it, there'll be nae +sleep for either you or me. But this time, mind, they'll be in +earnest." + +By this, my pistols were ready, and there was nothing to do but +listen and wait. While the brush lasted, I had not the time to +think if I was frighted; but now, when all was still again, my +mind ran upon nothing else. The thought of the sharp swords and +the cold steel was strong in me; and presently, when I began to +hear stealthy steps and a brushing of men's clothes against the +round-house wall, and knew they were taking their places in the +dark, I could have found it in my mind to cry out aloud. + +All this was upon Alan's side; and I had begun to think my share +of the fight was at an end, when I heard some one drop softly on +the roof above me. + +Then there came a single call on the sea-pipe, and that was the +signal. A knot of them made one rush of it, cutlass in hand, +against the door; and at the same moment, the glass of the +skylight was dashed in a thousand pieces, and a man leaped +through and landed on the floor. Before he got his feet, I had +clapped a pistol to his back, and might have shot him, too; only +at the touch of him (and him alive) my whole flesh misgave me, +and I could no more pull the trigger than I could have flown. + +He had dropped his cutlass as he jumped, and when he felt the +pistol, whipped straight round and laid hold of me, roaring out +an oath; and at that either my courage came again, or I grew so +much afraid as came to the same thing; for I gave a shriek and +shot him in the midst of the body. He gave the most horrible, +ugly groan and fell to the floor. The foot of a second fellow, +whose legs were dangling through the skylight, struck me at the +same time upon the head; and at that I snatched another pistol +and shot this one through the thigh, so that he slipped through +and tumbled in a lump on his companion's body. There was no talk +of missing, any more than there was time to aim; I clapped the +muzzle to the very place and fired. + +I might have stood and stared at them for long, but I heard Alan +shout as if for help, and that brought me to my senses. + +He had kept the door so long; but one of the seamen, while he was +engaged with others, had run in under his guard and caught him +about the body. Alan was dirking him with his left hand, but the +fellow clung like a leech. Another had broken in and had his +cutlass raised. The door was thronged with their faces. I +thought we were lost, and catching up my cutlass, fell on them in +flank. + +But I had not time to be of help. The wrestler dropped at last; +and Alan, leaping back to get his distance, ran upon the others +like a bull, roaring as he went. They broke before him like +water, turning, and running, and falling one against another in +their haste. The sword in his hands flashed like quicksilver +into the huddle of our fleeing enemies; and at every flash there +came the scream of a man hurt. I was still thinking we were +lost, when lo! they were all gone, and Alan was driving them +along the deck as a sheep-dog chases sheep. + +Yet he was no sooner out than he was back again, being as +cautious as he was brave; and meanwhile the seamen continued +running and crying out as if he was still behind them; and we +heard them tumble one upon another into the forecastle, and +clap-to the hatch upon the top. + +The round-house was like a shambles; three were dead inside, +another lay in his death agony across the threshold; and there +were Alan and I victorious and unhurt. + +He came up to me with open arms. "Come to my arms!" he cried, +and embraced and kissed me hard upon both cheek. "David," said +he, "I love you like a brother. And O, man," he cried in a kind +of ecstasy, "am I no a bonny fighter?" + +Thereupon he turned to the four enemies, passed his sword clean +through each of them, and tumbled them out of doors one after the +other. As he did so, he kept humming and singing and whistling +to himself, like a man trying to recall an air; only what HE was +trying was to make one. All the while, the flush was in his +face, and his eyes were as bright as a five-year-old child's with +a new toy. And presently he sat down upon the table, sword in +hand; the air that he was making all the time began to run a +little clearer, and then clearer still; and then out he burst +with a great voice into a Gaelic song. + +I have translated it here, not in verse (of which I have no +skill) but at least in the king's English. + +He sang it often afterwards, and the thing became popular; so +that I have, heard it, and had it explained to me, many's the +time. + + +"This is the song of the sword of Alan; + The smith made it, + The fire set it; + Now it shines in the hand of Alan Breck. + +"Their eyes were many and bright, + Swift were they to behold, + Many the hands they guided: + The sword was alone. + +"The dun deer troop over the hill, + They are many, the hill is one; + The dun deer vanish, + The hill remains. + +"Come to me from the hills of heather, + Come from the isles of the sea. + O far-beholding eagles, + Here is your meat." + + +Now this song which he made (both words and music) in the hour of +our victory, is something less than just to me, who stood beside +him in the tussle. Mr. Shuan and five more were either killed +outright or thoroughly disabled; but of these, two fell by my +hand, the two that came by the skylight. Four more were hurt, +and of that number, one (and he not the least important) got his +hurt from me. So that, altogether, I did my fair share both of +the killing and the wounding, and might have claimed a place in +Alan's verses. But poets have to think upon their rhymes; and in +good prose talk, Alan always did me more than justice. + +In the meanwhile, I was innocent of any wrong being done me. For +not only I knew no word of the Gaelic; but what with the long +suspense of the waiting, and the scurry and strain of our two +spirts of fighting, and more than all, the horror I had of some +of my own share in it, the thing was no sooner over than I was +glad to stagger to a seat. There was that tightness on my chest +that I could hardly breathe; the thought of the two men I had +shot sat upon me like a nightmare; and all upon a sudden, and +before I had a guess of what was coming, I began to sob and cry +like any child. + +Alan clapped my shoulder, and said I was a brave lad and wanted +nothing but a sleep. + +"I'll take the first watch," said he. "Ye've done well by me, +David, first and last; and I wouldn't lose you for all Appin -- +no, nor for Breadalbane." + +So I made up my bed on the floor; and he took the first spell, +pistol in hand and sword on knee, three hours by the captain's +watch upon the wall. Then he roused me up, and I took my turn of +three hours; before the end of which it was broad day, and a very +quiet morning, with a smooth, rolling sea that tossed the ship +and made the blood run to and fro on the round-house floor, and a +heavy rain that drummed upon the roof. All my watch there was +nothing stirring; and by the banging of the helm, I knew they had +even no one at the tiller. Indeed (as I learned afterwards) +there were so many of them hurt or dead, and the rest in so ill a +temper, that Mr. Riach and the captain had to take turn and turn +like Alan and me, or the brig might have gone ashore and nobody +the wiser. It was a mercy the night had fallen so still, for the +wind had gone down as soon as the rain began. Even as it was, I +judged by the wailing of a great number of gulls that went crying +and fishing round the ship, that she must have drifted pretty +near the coast or one of the islands of the Hebrides; and at +last, looking out of the door of the round-house, I saw the great +stone hills of Skye on the right hand, and, a little more astern, +the strange isle of Rum. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER + +Alan and I sat down to breakfast about six of the clock. The +floor was covered with broken glass and in a horrid mess of +blood, which took away my hunger. In all other ways we were in a +situation not only agreeable but merry; having ousted the +officers from their own cabin, and having at command all the +drink in the ship -- both wine and spirits -- and all the dainty +part of what was eatable, such as the pickles and the fine sort +of bread. This, of itself, was enough to set us in good humour, +but the richest part of it was this, that the two thirstiest men +that ever came out of Scotland (Mr. Shuan being dead) were now +shut in the fore-part of the ship and condemned to what they +hated most -- cold water. + +"And depend upon it," Alan said, "we shall hear more of them ere +long. Ye may keep a man from the fighting, but never from his +bottle." + +We made good company for each other. Alan, indeed, expressed +himself most lovingly; and taking a knife from the table, cut me +off one of the silver buttons from his coat. + +"I had them," says he, "from my father, Duncan Stewart; and now +give ye one of them to be a keepsake for last night's work. And +wherever ye go and show that button, the friends of Alan Breck +will come around you." + +He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies; +and indeed, much as I admired his courage, I was always in danger +of smiling at his vanity: in danger, I say, for had I not kept my +countenance, I would be afraid to think what a quarrel might have +followed. + +As soon as we were through with our meal he rummaged in the +captain's locker till he found a clothes-brush; and then taking +off his coat, began to visit his suit and brush away the stains, +with such care and labour as I supposed to have been only usual +with women. To be sure, he had no other; and, besides (as he +said), it belonged to a king and so behoved to be royally looked +after. + +For all that, when I saw what care he took to pluck out the +threads where the button had been cut away, I put a higher value +on his gift. + +He was still so engaged when we were hailed by Mr. Riach from the +deck, asking for a parley; and I, climbing through the skylight +and sitting on the edge of it, pistol in hand and with a bold +front, though inwardly in fear of broken glass, hailed him back +again and bade him speak out. He came to the edge of the +round-house, and stood on a coil of rope, so that his chin was on +a level with the roof; and we looked at each other awhile in +silence. Mr. Riach, as I do not think he had been very forward +in the battle, so he had got off with nothing worse than a blow +upon the cheek: but he looked out of heart and very weary, having +been all night afoot, either standing watch or doctoring the +wounded. + +"This is a bad job," said he at last, shaking his head. + +"It was none of our choosing," said I. + +"The captain," says he, "would like to speak with your friend. +They might speak at the window." + +"And how do we know what treachery he means?" cried I. + +"He means none, David," returned Mr. Riach, "and if he did, I'll +tell ye the honest truth, we couldnae get the men to follow." + +"Is that so?" said I. + +"I'll tell ye more than that," said he. "It's not only the men; +it's me. I'm frich'ened, Davie." And he smiled across at me. +"No," he continued, "what we want is to be shut of him." + +Thereupon I consulted with Alan, and the parley was agreed to and +parole given upon either side; but this was not the whole of Mr. +Riach's business, and he now begged me for a dram with such +instancy and such reminders of his former kindness, that at last +I handed him a pannikin with about a gill of brandy. He drank a +part, and then carried the rest down upon the deck, to share it +(I suppose) with his superior. + +A little after, the captain came (as was agreed) to one of the +windows, and stood there in the rain, with his arm in a sling, +and looking stern and pale, and so old that my heart smote me for +having fired upon him. + +Alan at once held a pistol in his face. + +"Put that thing up!" said the captain. "Have I not passed my +word, sir? or do ye seek to affront me?" + +"Captain," says Alan, "I doubt your word is a breakable. Last +night ye haggled and argle-bargled like an apple-wife; and then +passed me your word, and gave me your hand to back it; and ye ken +very well what was the upshot. Be damned to your word!" says he. + +"Well, well, sir," said the captain, "ye'll get little good by +swearing." (And truly that was a fault of which the captain was +quite free.) "But we have other things to speak," he continued, +bitterly. "Ye've made a sore hash of my brig; I haven't hands +enough left to work her; and my first officer (whom I could ill +spare) has got your sword throughout his vitals, and passed +without speech. There is nothing left me, sir, but to put back +into the port of Glasgow after hands; and there (by your leave) +ye will find them that are better able to talk to you." + +"Ay?" said Alan; "and faith, I'll have a talk with them mysel'! +Unless there's naebody speaks English in that town, I have a +bonny tale for them. Fifteen tarry sailors upon the one side, +and a man and a halfling boy upon the other! O, man, it's +peetiful!" + +Hoseason flushed red. + +"No," continued Alan, "that'll no do. Ye'll just have to set me +ashore as we agreed." + +"Ay," said Hoseason, "but my first officer is dead -- ye ken best +how. There's none of the rest of us acquaint with this coast, +sir; and it's one very dangerous to ships." + +"I give ye your choice," says Alan. "Set me on dry ground in +Appin, or Ardgour, or in Morven, or Arisaig, or Morar; or, in +brief, where ye please, within thirty miles of my own country; +except in a country of the Campbells. That's a broad target. If +ye miss that, ye must be as feckless at the sailoring as I have +found ye at the fighting. Why, my poor country people in their +bit cobles[16] pass from island to island in all weathers, ay, +and by night too, for the matter of that." + +[16]Coble: a small boat used in fishing. + + +"A coble's not a ship" sir" said the captain. "It has nae +draught of water." + +"Well, then, to Glasgow if ye list!" says Alan. "We'll have the +laugh of ye at the least." + +"My mind runs little upon laughing," said the captain. "But all +this will cost money, sir." + +"Well, sir" says Alan, "I am nae weathercock. Thirty guineas, if +ye land me on the sea-side; and sixty, if ye put me in the Linnhe +Loch." + +"But see, sir, where we lie, we are but a few hours' sail from +Ardnamurchan," said Hoseason. "Give me sixty, and I'll set ye +there." + +" And I'm to wear my brogues and run jeopardy of the red-coats to +please you?" cries Alan. "No, sir; if ye want sixty guineas earn +them, and set me in my own country." + +"It's to risk the brig, sir," said the captain, "and your own +lives along with her." + +"Take it or want it," says Alan. + +"Could ye pilot us at all?" asked the captain, who was frowning +to himself. + +"Well, it's doubtful," said Alan. "I'm more of a fighting man +(as ye have seen for yoursel') than a sailor-man. But I have +been often enough picked up and set down upon this coast, and +should ken something of the lie of it." + +The captain shook his head, still frowning. + +"If I had lost less money on this unchancy cruise," says he, "I +would see you in a rope's end before I risked my brig, sir. But +be it as ye will. As soon as I get a slant of wind (and there's +some coming, or I'm the more mistaken) I'll put it in hand. But +there's one thing more. We may meet in with a king's ship and +she may lay us aboard, sir, with no blame of mine: they keep the +cruisers thick upon this coast, ye ken who for. Now, sir, if +that was to befall, ye might leave the money." + +"Captain," says Alan, "if ye see a pennant, it shall be your part +to run away. And now, as I hear you're a little short of brandy +in the fore-part, I'll offer ye a change: a bottle of brandy +against two buckets of water." + +That was the last clause of the treaty, and was duly executed on +both sides; so that Alan and I could at last wash out the +round-house and be quit of the memorials of those whom we had +slain, and the captain and Mr. Riach could be happy again in +their own way, the name of which was drink. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +I HEAR OF THE "RED FOX" + +Before we had done cleaning out the round-house, a breeze sprang +up from a little to the east of north. This blew off the rain +and brought out the sun. + +And here I must explain; and the reader would do well to look at +a map. On the day when the fog fell and we ran down Alan's boat, +we had been running through the Little Minch. At dawn after the +battle, we lay becalmed to the east of the Isle of Canna or +between that and Isle Eriska in the chain of the Long Island. +Now to get from there to the Linnhe Loch, the straight course was +through the narrows of the Sound of Mull. But the captain had no +chart; he was afraid to trust his brig so deep among the islands; +and the wind serving well, he preferred to go by west of Tiree +and come up under the southern coast of the great Isle of Mull. + +All day the breeze held in the same point, and rather freshened +than died down; and towards afternoon, a swell began to set in +from round the outer Hebrides. Our course, to go round about the +inner isles, was to the west of south, so that at first we had +this swell upon our beam, and were much rolled about. But after +nightfall, when we had turned the end of Tiree and began to head +more to the east, the sea came right astern. + +Meanwhile, the early part of the day, before the swell came up, +was very pleasant; sailing, as we were, in a bright sunshine and +with many mountainous islands upon different sides. Alan and I +sat in the round-house with the doors open on each side (the wind +being straight astern), and smoked a pipe or two of the captain's +fine tobacco. It was at this time we heard each other's stories, +which was the more important to me, as I gained some knowledge of +that wild Highland country on which I was so soon to land. In +those days, so close on the back of the great rebellion, it was +needful a man should know what he was doing when he went upon the +heather. + +It was I that showed the example, telling him all my misfortune; +which he heard with great good-nature. Only, when I came to +mention that good friend of mine, Mr. Campbell the minister, Alan +fired up and cried out that he hated all that were of that name. + +"Why," said I, "he is a man you should be proud to give your hand +to." + +"I know nothing I would help a Campbell to," says he, "unless it +was a leaden bullet. I would hunt all of that name like +blackcocks. If I lay dying, I would crawl upon my knees to my +chamber window for a shot at one." + +"Why, Alan," I cried, "what ails ye at the Campbells?" + +"Well," says he, "ye ken very well that I am an Appin Stewart, +and the Campbells have long harried and wasted those of my name; +ay, and got lands of us by treachery--but never with the sword," +he cried loudly, and with the word brought down his fist upon the +table. But I paid the less attention to this, for I knew it was +usually said by those who have the underhand. "There's more than +that," he continued, "and all in the same story: lying words, +lying papers, tricks fit for a peddler, and the show of what's +legal over all, to make a man the more angry." + +"You that are so wasteful of your buttons," said I, "I can hardly +think you would be a good judge of business." + +"Ah!" says he, falling again to smiling, "I got my wastefulness +from the same man I got the buttons from; and that was my poor +father, Duncan Stewart, grace be to him! He was the prettiest man +of his kindred; and the best swordsman in the Hielands, David, +and that is the same as to say, in all the world, I should ken, +for it was him that taught me. He was in the Black Watch, when +first it was mustered; and, like other gentlemen privates, had a +gillie at his back to carry his firelock for him on the march. +Well, the King, it appears, was wishful to see Hieland +swordsmanship; and my father and three more were chosen out and +sent to London town, to let him see it at the best. So they were +had into the palace and showed the whole art of the sword for two +hours at a stretch, before King George and Queen Carline, and the +Butcher Cumberland, and many more of whom I havenae mind. And +when they were through, the King (for all he was a rank usurper) +spoke them fair and gave each man three guineas in his hand. +Now, as they were going out of the palace, they had a porter's +lodge to go, by; and it came in on my father, as he was perhaps +the first private Hieland gentleman that had ever gone by that +door, it was right he should give the poor porter a proper notion +of their quality. So he gives the King's three guineas into the +man's hand, as if it was his common custom; the three others that +came behind him did the same; and there they were on the street, +never a penny the better for their pains. Some say it was one, +that was the first to fee the King's porter; and some say it was +another; but the truth of it is, that it was Duncan Stewart, as I +am willing to prove with either sword or pistol. And that was +the father that I had, God rest him!" + +"I think he was not the man to leave you rich," said I. + +"And that's true," said Alan. "He left me my breeks to cover me, +and little besides. And that was how I came to enlist, which was +a black spot upon my character at the best of times, and would +still be a sore job for me if I fell among the red-coats." + +"What," cried I, "were you in the English army?" + +"That was I," said Alan. "But I deserted to the right side at +Preston Pans -- and that's some comfort." + +I could scarcely share this view: holding desertion under arms +for an unpardonable fault in honour. But for all I was so young, +I was wiser than say my thought. "Dear, dear," says I, "the +punishment is death." + +"Ay" said he, "if they got hands on me, it would be a short +shrift and a lang tow for Alan! But I have the King of France's +commission in my pocket, which would aye be some protection." + +"I misdoubt it much," said I. + +"I have doubts mysel'," said Alan drily. + +"And, good heaven, man," cried I, "you that are a condemned +rebel, and a deserter, and a man of the French King's -- what +tempts ye back into this country? It's a braving of Providence." + +"Tut!" says Alan, "I have been back every year since forty-six!" + +"And what brings ye, man?" cried I. + +"Well, ye see, I weary for my friends and country," said he. +"France is a braw place, nae doubt; but I weary for the heather +and the deer. And then I have bit things that I attend to. +Whiles I pick up a few lads to serve the King of France: +recruits, ye see; and that's aye a little money. But the heart +of the matter is the business of my chief, Ardshiel." + +"I thought they called your chief Appin," said I. + +"Ay, but Ardshiel is the captain of the clan," said he, which +scarcely cleared my mind. "Ye see, David, he that was all his +life so great a man, and come of the blood and bearing the name +of kings, is now brought down to live in a French town like a +poor and private person. He that had four hundred swords at his +whistle, I have seen, with these eyes of mine, buying butter in +the market-place, and taking it home in a kale-leaf. This is not +only a pain but a disgrace to us of his family and clan. There +are the bairns forby, the children and the hope of Appin, that +must be learned their letters and how to hold a sword, in that +far country. Now, the tenants of Appin have to pay a rent to +King George; but their hearts are staunch, they are true to their +chief; and what with love and a bit of pressure, and maybe a +threat or two, the poor folk scrape up a second rent for +Ardshiel. Well, David, I'm the hand that carries it." And he +struck the belt about his body, so that the guineas rang. + +"Do they pay both?" cried I. + +"Ay, David, both," says he. + +"What! two rents?" I repeated. + +"Ay, David," said he. "I told a different tale to yon captain +man; but this is the truth of it. And it's wonderful to me how +little pressure is needed. But that's the handiwork of my good +kinsman and my father's friend, James of the Glens: James +Stewart, that is: Ardshiel's half-brother. He it is that gets +the money in, and does the management." + +This was the first time I heard the name of that James Stewart, +who was afterwards so famous at the time of his hanging. But I +took little heed at the moment, for all my mind was occupied with +the generosity of these poor Highlanders. + +"I call it noble," I cried. "I'm a Whig, or little better; but I +call it noble." + +"Ay" said he, "ye're a Whig, but ye're a gentleman; and that's +what does it. Now, if ye were one of the cursed race of +Campbell, ye would gnash your teeth to hear tell of it. If ye +were the Red Fox..." And at that name, his teeth shut together, +and he ceased speaking. I have seen many a grim face, but never +a grimmer than Alan's when he had named the Red Fox. + +"And who is the Red Fox?" I asked, daunted, but still curious. + +"Who is he?" cried Alan. "Well, and I'll tell you that. When +the men of the clans were broken at Culloden, and the good cause +went down, and the horses rode over the fetlocks in the best +blood of the north, Ardshiel had to flee like a poor deer upon +the mountains -- he and his lady and his bairns. A sair job we +had of it before we got him shipped; and while he still lay in +the heather, the English rogues, that couldnae come at his life, +were striking at his rights. They stripped him of his powers; +they stripped him of his lands; they plucked the weapons from the +hands of his clansmen, that had borne arms for thirty centuries; +ay, and the very clothes off their backs -- so that it's now a +sin to wear a tartan plaid, and a man may be cast into a gaol if +he has but a kilt about his legs. One thing they couldnae kill. +That was the love the clansmen bore their chief. These guineas +are the proof of it. And now, in there steps a man, a Campbell, +red-headed Colin of Glenure ----" + +"Is that him you call the Red Fox?" said I. + +"Will ye bring me his brush?" cries Alan, fiercely. "Ay, that's +the man. In he steps, and gets papers from King George, to be +so-called King's factor on the lands of Appin. And at first he +sings small, and is hail-fellow-well-met with Sheamus -- that's +James of the Glens, my chieftain's agent. But by-and-by, that +came to his ears that I have just told you; how the poor commons +of Appin, the farmers and the crofters and the boumen, were +wringing their very plaids to get a second rent, and send it +over-seas for Ardshiel and his poor bairns. What was it ye +called it, when I told ye?" + +"I called it noble, Alan," said I. + +"And you little better than a common Whig!" cries Alan. "But +when it came to Colin Roy, the black Campbell blood in him ran +wild. He sat gnashing his teeth at the wine table. What! should +a Stewart get a bite of bread, and him not be able to prevent it? +Ah! Red Fox, if ever I hold you at a gun's end, the Lord have +pity upon ye!" (Alan stopped to swallow down his anger.) "Well, +David, what does he do? He declares all the farms to let. And, +thinks he, in his black heart, 'I'll soon get other tenants +that'll overbid these Stewarts, and Maccolls, and Macrobs' (for +these are all names in my clan, David); 'and then,' thinks he, +'Ardshiel will have to hold his bonnet on a French roadside.'" + +"Well," said I, "what followed?" + +Alan laid down his pipe, which he had long since suffered to go +out, and set his two hands upon his knees. + +"Ay," said he, "ye'll never guess that! For these same Stewarts, +and Maccolls, and Macrobs (that had two rents to pay, one to King +George by stark force, and one to Ardshiel by natural kindness) +offered him a better price than any Campbell in all broad +Scotland; and far he sent seeking them -- as far as to the sides +of Clyde and the cross of Edinburgh -- seeking, and fleeching, +and begging them to come, where there was a Stewart to be starved +and a red-headed hound of a Campbell to be pleasured!" + +"Well, Alan," said I, "that is a strange story, and a fine one, +too. And Whig as I may be, I am glad the man was beaten." + +"Him beaten?" echoed Alan. "It's little ye ken of Campbells, and +less of the Red Fox. Him beaten? No: nor will be, till his +blood's on the hillside! But if the day comes, David man, that I +can find time and leisure for a bit of hunting, there grows not +enough heather in all Scotland to hide him from my vengeance!" + +"Man Alan," said I, "ye are neither very wise nor very Christian +to blow off so many words of anger. They will do the man ye call +the Fox no harm, and yourself no good. Tell me your tale plainly +out. What did he next?" + +"And that's a good observe, David," said Alan. "Troth and +indeed, they will do him no harm; the more's the pity! And +barring that about Christianity (of which my opinion is quite +otherwise, or I would be nae Christian), I am much of your mind." + +"Opinion here or opinion there," said I, "it's a kent thing that +Christianity forbids revenge." + +"Ay" said he, "it's well seen it was a Campbell taught ye! It +would be a convenient world for them and their sort, if there was +no such a thing as a lad and a gun behind a heather bush! But +that's nothing to the point. This is what he did." + +"Ay" said I, "come to that." + +"Well, David," said he, "since he couldnae be rid of the loyal +commons by fair means, he swore he would be rid of them by foul. +Ardshiel was to starve: that was the thing he aimed at. And +since them that fed him in his exile wouldnae be bought out -- +right or wrong, he would drive them out. Therefore he sent for +lawyers, and papers, and red-coats to stand at his back. And the +kindly folk of that country must all pack and tramp, every +father's son out of his father's house, and out of the place +where he was bred and fed, and played when he was a callant. And +who are to succeed them? Bare-leggit beggars! King George is to +whistle for his rents; he maun dow with less; he can spread his +butter thinner: what cares Red Colin? If he can hurt Ardshiel, he +has his wish; if he can pluck the meat from my chieftain's table, +and the bit toys out of his children's hands, he will gang hame +singing to Glenure!" + +"Let me have a word," said I. "Be sure, if they take less rents, +be sure Government has a finger in the pie. It's not this +Campbell's fault, man -- it's his orders. And if ye killed this +Colin to-morrow, what better would ye be? There would be another +factor in his shoes, as fast as spur can drive." + +"Ye're a good lad in a fight," said Alan; "but, man! ye have Whig +blood in ye!" + +He spoke kindly enough, but there was so much anger under his +contempt that I thought it was wise to change the conversation. +I expressed my wonder how, with the Highlands covered with +troops, and guarded like a city in a siege, a man in his +situation could come and go without arrest. + +"It's easier than ye would think," said Alan. "A bare hillside +(ye see) is like all one road; if there's a sentry at one place, +ye just go by another. And then the heather's a great help. And +everywhere there are friends' houses and friends' byres and +haystacks. And besides, when folk talk of a country covered with +troops, it's but a kind of a byword at the best. A soldier +covers nae mair of it than his boot-soles. I have fished a water +with a sentry on the other side of the brae, and killed a fine +trout; and I have sat in a heather bush within six feet of +another, and learned a real bonny tune from his whistling. This +was it," said he, and whistled me the air. + +"And then, besides," he continued, "it's no sae bad now as it was +in forty-six. The Hielands are what they call pacified. Small +wonder, with never a gun or a sword left from Cantyre to Cape +Wrath, but what tenty[17] folk have hidden in their thatch! But +what I would like to ken, David, is just how long? Not long, ye +would think, with men like Ardshiel in exile and men like the Red +Fox sitting birling the wine and oppressing the poor at home. +But it's a kittle thing to decide what folk'll bear, and what +they will not. Or why would Red Colin be riding his horse all +over my poor country of Appin, and never a pretty lad to put a +bullet in him?" + +[17] Careful. + + +And with this Alan fell into a muse, and for a long time sate +very sad and silent. + +I will add the rest of what I have to say about my friend, that +he was skilled in all kinds of music, but principally pipe-music; +was a well-considered poet in his own tongue; had read several +books both in French and English; was a dead shot, a good angler, +and an excellent fencer with the small sword as well as with his +own particular weapon. For his faults, they were on his face, +and I now knew them all. But the worst of them, his childish +propensity to take offence and to pick quarrels, he greatly laid +aside in my case, out of regard for the battle of the +round-house. But whether it was because I had done well myself, +or because I had been a witness of his own much greater prowess, +is more than I can tell. For though he had a great taste for +courage in other men, yet he admired it most in Alan Breck. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE LOSS OF THE BRIG + +It was already late at night, and as dark as it ever would be at +that season of the year (and that is to say, it was still pretty +bright), when Hoseason clapped his head into the round-house +door. + +"Here," said he, "come out and see if ye can pilot." + +"Is this one of your tricks?" asked Alan. + +"Do I look like tricks?" cries the captain. "I have other things +to think of -- my brig's in danger!" + +By the concerned look of his face, and, above all, by the sharp +tones in which he spoke of his brig, it was plain to both of us +he was in deadly earnest; and so Alan and I, with no great fear +of treachery, stepped on deck. + +The sky was clear; it blew hard, and was bitter cold; a great +deal of daylight lingered; and the moon, which was nearly full, +shone brightly. The brig was close hauled, so as to round the +southwest corner of the Island of Mull, the hills of which (and +Ben More above them all, with a wisp of mist upon the top of it) +lay full upon the lar-board bow. Though it was no good point of +sailing for the Covenant, she tore through the seas at a great +rate, pitching and straining, and pursued by the westerly swell. + +Altogether it was no such ill night to keep the seas in; and I +had begun to wonder what it was that sat so heavily upon the +captain, when the brig rising suddenly on the top of a high +swell, he pointed and cried to us to look. Away on the lee bow, +a thing like a fountain rose out of the moonlit sea, and +immediately after we heard a low sound of roaring. + +"What do ye call that?" asked the captain, gloomily. + +"The sea breaking on a reef," said Alan. "And now ye ken where +it is; and what better would ye have?" + +"Ay," said Hoseason, "if it was the only one." + +And sure enough, just as he spoke there came a second fountain +farther to the south. + +"There!" said Hoseason. "Ye see for yourself. If I had kent of +these reefs, if I had had a chart, or if Shuan had been spared, +it's not sixty guineas, no, nor six hundred, would have made me +risk my brig in sic a stoneyard! But you, sir, that was to pilot +us, have ye never a word?" + +"I'm thinking," said Alan, "these'll be what they call the Torran +Rocks." + +"Are there many of them?" says the captain. + +"Truly, sir, I am nae pilot," said Alan; "but it sticks in my +mind there are ten miles of them." + +Mr. Riach and the captain looked at each other. + +"There's a way through them, I suppose?" said the captain. + +"Doubtless," said Alan, "but where? But it somehow runs in my +mind once more that it is clearer under the land." + +"So?" said Hoseason. "We'll have to haul our wind then, Mr. +Riach; we'll have to come as near in about the end of Mull as we +can take her, sir; and even then we'll have the land to kep the +wind off us, and that stoneyard on our lee. Well, we're in for +it now, and may as well crack on." + +With that he gave an order to the steersman, and sent Riach to +the foretop. There were only five men on deck, counting the +officers; these being all that were fit (or, at least, both fit +and willing) for their work. So, as I say, it fell to Mr. Riach +to go aloft, and he sat there looking out and hailing the deck +with news of all he saw. + +"The sea to the south is thick," he cried; and then, after a +while, "it does seem clearer in by the land." + +"Well, sir," said Hoseason to Alan, "we'll try your way of it. +But I think I might as well trust to a blind fiddler. Pray God +you're right." + +"Pray God I am!" says Alan to me. "But where did I hear it? +Well, well, it will be as it must." + +As we got nearer to the turn of the land the reefs began to be +sown here and there on our very path; and Mr. Riach sometimes +cried down to us to change the course. Sometimes, indeed, none +too soon; for one reef was so close on the brig's weather board +that when a sea burst upon it the lighter sprays fell upon her +deck and wetted us like rain. + +The brightness of the night showed us these perils as clearly as +by day, which was, perhaps, the more alarming. It showed me, +too, the face of the captain as he stood by the steersman, now on +one foot, now on the other, and sometimes blowing in his hands, +but still listening and looking and as steady as steel. Neither +he nor Mr. Riach had shown well in the fighting; but I saw they +were brave in their own trade, and admired them all the more +because I found Alan very white. + +"Ochone, David," says he, "this is no the kind of death I fancy!" + +"What, Alan!" I cried, "you're not afraid?" + +"No," said he, wetting his lips, "but you'll allow, yourself, +it's a cold ending." + +By this time, now and then sheering to one side or the other to +avoid a reef, but still hugging the wind and the land, we had got +round Iona and begun to come alongside Mull. The tide at the +tail of the land ran very strong, and threw the brig about. Two +hands were put to the helm, and Hoseason himself would sometimes +lend a help; and it was strange to see three strong men throw +their weight upon the tiller, and it (like a living thing) +struggle against and drive them back. This would have been the +greater danger had not the sea been for some while free of +obstacles. Mr. Riach, besides, announced from the top that he +saw clear water ahead. + +"Ye were right," said Hoseason to Alan. "Ye have saved the brig, +sir. I'll mind that when we come to clear accounts." And I +believe he not only meant what he said, but would have done it; +so high a place did the Covenant hold in his affections. + +But this is matter only for conjecture, things having gone +otherwise than he forecast. + +"Keep her away a point," sings out Mr. Riach. "Reef to +windward!" + +And just at the same time the tide caught the brig, and threw the +wind out of her sails. She came round into the wind like a top, +and the next moment struck the reef with such a dunch as threw us +all flat upon the deck, and came near to shake Mr. Riach from his +place upon the mast. + +I was on my feet in a minute. The reef on which we had struck +was close in under the southwest end of Mull, off a little isle +they call Earraid, which lay low and black upon the larboard. +Sometimes the swell broke clean over us; sometimes it only ground +the poor brig upon the reef, so that we could hear her beat +herself to pieces; and what with the great noise of the sails, +and the singing of the wind, and the flying of the spray in the +moonlight, and the sense of danger, I think my head must have +been partly turned, for I could scarcely understand the things I +saw. + +Presently I observed Mr. Riach and the seamen busy round the +skiff, and, still in the same blank, ran over to assist them; and +as soon as I set my hand to work, my mind came clear again. It +was no very easy task, for the skiff lay amidships and was full +of hamper, and the breaking of the heavier seas continually +forced us to give over and hold on; but we all wrought like +horses while we could. + +Meanwhile such of the wounded as could move came clambering out +of the fore-scuttle and began to help; while the rest that lay +helpless in their bunks harrowed me with screaming and begging to +be saved. + +The captain took no part. It seemed he was struck stupid. He +stood holding by the shrouds, talking to himself and groaning out +aloud whenever the ship hammered on the rock. His brig was like +wife and child to him; he had looked on, day by day, at the +mishandling of poor Ransome; but when it came to the brig, he +seemed to suffer along with her. + +All the time of our working at the boat, I remember only one +other thing: that I asked Alan, looking across at the shore, what +country it was; and he answered, it was the worst possible for +him, for it was a land of the Campbells. + +We had one of the wounded men told off to keep a watch upon the +seas and cry us warning. Well, we had the boat about ready to be +launched, when this man sang out pretty shrill: "For God's sake, +hold on!" We knew by his tone that it was something more than +ordinary; and sure enough, there followed a sea so huge that it +lifted the brig right up and canted her over on her beam. +Whether the cry came too late, or my hold was too weak, I know +not; but at the sudden tilting of the ship I was cast clean over +the bulwarks into the sea. + +I went down, and drank my fill, and then came up, and got a blink +of the moon, and then down again. They say a man sinks a third +time for good. I cannot be made like other folk, then; for I +would not like to write how often I went down, or how often I +came up again. All the while, I was being hurled along, and +beaten upon and choked, and then swallowed whole; and the thing +was so distracting to my wits, that I was neither sorry nor +afraid. + +Presently, I found I was holding to a spar, which helped me +somewhat. And then all of a sudden I was in quiet water, and +began to come to myself. + +It was the spare yard I had got hold of, and I was amazed to see +how far I had travelled from the brig. I hailed her, indeed; but +it was plain she was already out of cry. She was still holding +together; but whether or not they had yet launched the boat, I +was too far off and too low down to see. + +While I was hailing the brig, I spied a tract of water lying +between us where no great waves came, but which yet boiled white +all over and bristled in the moon with rings and bubbles. +Sometimes the whole tract swung to one side, like the tail of a +live serpent; sometimes, for a glimpse, it would all disappear +and then boil up again. What it was I had no guess, which for +the time increased my fear of it; but I now know it must have +been the roost or tide race, which had carried me away so fast +and tumbled me about so cruelly, and at last, as if tired of that +play, had flung out me and the spare yard upon its landward +margin. + +I now lay quite becalmed, and began to feel that a man can die of +cold as well as of drowning. The shores of Earraid were close +in; I could see in the moonlight the dots of heather and the +sparkling of the mica in the rocks. + +"Well," thought I to myself, "if I cannot get as far as that, +it's strange!" + +I had no skill of swimming, Essen Water being small in our +neighbourhood; but when I laid hold upon the yard with both arms, +and kicked out with both feet, I soon begun to find that I was +moving. Hard work it was, and mortally slow; but in about an +hour of kicking and splashing, I had got well in between the +points of a sandy bay surrounded by low hills. + +The sea was here quite quiet; there was no sound of any surf; the +moon shone clear; and I thought in my heart I had never seen a +place so desert and desolate. But it was dry land; and when at +last it grew so shallow that I could leave the yard and wade +ashore upon my feet, I cannot tell if I was more tired or more +grateful. Both, at least, I was: tired as I never was before +that night; and grateful to God as I trust I have been often, +though never with more cause. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE ISLET + +With my stepping ashore I began the most unhappy part of my +adventures. It was half-past twelve in the morning, and though +the wind was broken by the land, it was a cold night. I dared +not sit down (for I thought I should have frozen), but took off +my shoes and walked to and fro upon the sand, bare-foot, and +beating my breast with infinite weariness. There was no sound of +man or cattle; not a cock crew, though it was about the hour of +their first waking; only the surf broke outside in the distance, +which put me in mind of my perils and those of my friend. To +walk by the sea at that hour of the morning, and in a place so +desert-like and lonesome, struck me with a kind of fear. + +As soon as the day began to break I put on my shoes and climbed a +hill -- the ruggedest scramble I ever undertook-- falling, the +whole way, between big blocks of granite, or leaping from one to +another. When I got to the top the dawn was come. There was no +sign of the brig, which must have lifted from the reef and sunk. +The boat, too, was nowhere to be seen. There was never a sail +upon the ocean; and in what I could see of the land was neither +house nor man. + +I was afraid to think what had befallen my shipmates, and afraid +to look longer at so empty a scene. What with my wet clothes and +weariness, and my belly that now began to ache with hunger, I had +enough to trouble me without that. So I set off eastward along +the south coast, hoping to find a house where I might warm +myself, and perhaps get news of those I had lost. And at the +worst, I considered the sun would soon rise and dry my clothes. + +After a little, my way was stopped by a creek or inlet of the +sea, which seemed to run pretty deep into the land; and as I had +no means to get across, I must needs change my direction to go +about the end of it. It was still the roughest kind of walking; +indeed the whole, not only of Earraid, but of the neighbouring +part of Mull (which they call the Ross) is nothing but a jumble +of granite rocks with heather in among. At first the creek kept +narrowing as I had looked to see; but presently to my surprise it +began to widen out again. At this I scratched my head, but had +still no notion of the truth: until at last I came to a rising +ground, and it burst upon me all in a moment that I was cast upon +a little barren isle, and cut off on every side by the salt seas. + +Instead of the sun rising to dry me, it came on to rain, with a +thick mist; so that my case was lamentable. + +I stood in the rain, and shivered, and wondered what to do, till +it occurred to me that perhaps the creek was fordable. Back I +went to the narrowest point and waded in. But not three yards +from shore, I plumped in head over ears; and if ever I was heard +of more, it was rather by God's grace than my own prudence. I +was no wetter (for that could hardly be), but I was all the +colder for this mishap; and having lost another hope was the more +unhappy. + +And now, all at once, the yard came in my head. What had carried +me through the roost would surely serve me to cross this little +quiet creek in safety. With that I set off, undaunted, across +the top of the isle, to fetch and carry it back. It was a weary +tramp in all ways, and if hope had not buoyed me up, I must have +cast myself down and given up. Whether with the sea salt, or +because I was growing fevered, I was distressed with thirst, and +had to stop, as I went, and drink the peaty water out of the +hags. + +I came to the bay at last, more dead than alive; and at the first +glance, I thought the yard was something farther out than when I +left it. In I went, for the third time, into the sea. The sand +was smooth and firm, and shelved gradually down, so that I could +wade out till the water was almost to my neck and the little +waves splashed into my face. But at that depth my feet began to +leave me, and I durst venture in no farther. As for the yard, I +saw it bobbing very quietly some twenty feet beyond. + +I had borne up well until this last disappointment; but at that I +came ashore, and flung myself down upon the sands and wept. + +The time I spent upon the island is still so horrible a thought +to me, that I must pass it lightly over. In all the books I have +read of people cast away, they had either their pockets full of +tools, or a chest of things would be thrown upon the beach along +with them, as if on purpose. My case was very different. I had +nothing in my pockets but money and Alan's silver button; and +being inland bred, I was as much short of knowledge as of means. + +I knew indeed that shell-fish were counted good to eat; and among +the rocks of the isle I found a great plenty of limpets, which at +first I could scarcely strike from their places, not knowing +quickness to be needful. There were, besides, some of the little +shells that we call buckies; I think periwinkle is the English +name. Of these two I made my whole diet, devouring them cold and +raw as I found them; and so hungry was I, that at first they +seemed to me delicious. + +Perhaps they were out of season, or perhaps there was something +wrong in the sea about my island. But at least I had no sooner +eaten my first meal than I was seized with giddiness and +retching, and lay for a long time no better than dead. A second +trial of the same food (indeed I had no other) did better with +me, and revived my strength. But as long as I was on the island, +I never knew what to expect when I had eaten; sometimes all was +well, and sometimes I was thrown into a miserable sickness; nor +could I ever distinguish what particular fish it was that hurt +me. + +All day it streamed rain; the island ran like a sop, there was no +dry spot to be found; and when I lay down that night, between two +boulders that made a kind of roof, my feet were in a bog. + +The second day I crossed the island to all sides. There was no +one part of it better than another; it was all desolate and +rocky; nothing living on it but game birds which I lacked the +means to kill, and the gulls which haunted the outlying rocks in +a prodigious number. But the creek, or strait, that cut off the +isle from the main-land of the Ross, opened out on the north into +a bay, and the bay again opened into the Sound of Iona; and it +was the neighbourhood of this place that I chose to be my home; +though if I had thought upon the very name of home in such a +spot, I must have burst out weeping. + +I had good reasons for my choice. There was in this part of the +isle a little hut of a house like a pig's hut, where fishers used +to sleep when they came there upon their business; but the turf +roof of it had fallen entirely in; so that the hut was of no use +to me, and gave me less shelter than my rocks. What was more +important, the shell-fish on which I lived grew there in great +plenty; when the tide was out I could gather a peck at a time: +and this was doubtless a convenience. But the other reason went +deeper. I had become in no way used to the horrid solitude of +the isle, but still looked round me on all sides (like a man that +was hunted), between fear and hope that I might see some human +creature coming. Now, from a little up the hillside over the +bay, I could catch a sight of the great, ancient church and the +roofs of the people's houses in Iona. And on the other hand, +over the low country of the Ross, I saw smoke go up, morning and +evening, as if from a homestead in a hollow of the land. + +I used to watch this smoke, when I was wet and cold, and had my +head half turned with loneliness; and think of the fireside and +the company, till my heart burned. It was the same with the +roofs of Iona. Altogether, this sight I had of men's homes and +comfortable lives, although it put a point on my own sufferings, +yet it kept hope alive, and helped me to eat my raw shell-fish +(which had soon grown to be a disgust), and saved me from the +sense of horror I had whenever I was quite alone with dead rocks, +and fowls, and the rain, and the cold sea. + +I say it kept hope alive; and indeed it seemed impossible that I +should be left to die on the shores of my own country, and within +view of a church-tower and the smoke of men's houses. But the +second day passed; and though as long as the light lasted I kept +a bright look-out for boats on the Sound or men passing on the +Ross, no help came near me. It still rained, and I turned in to +sleep, as wet as ever, and with a cruel sore throat, but a little +comforted, perhaps, by having said good-night to my next +neighbours, the people of Iona. + +Charles the Second declared a man could stay outdoors more days +in the year in the climate of England than in any other. This +was very like a king, with a palace at his back and changes of +dry clothes. But he must have had better luck on his flight from +Worcester than I had on that miserable isle. It was the height +of the summer; yet it rained for more than twenty-four hours, and +did not clear until the afternoon of the third day. + +This was the day of incidents. In the morning I saw a red deer, +a buck with a fine spread of antlers, standing in the rain on the +top of the island; but he had scarce seen me rise from under my +rock, before he trotted off upon the other side. I supposed he +must have swum the strait; though what should bring any creature +to Earraid, was more than I could fancy. + +A little after, as I was jumping about after my limpets, I was +startled by a guinea-piece, which fell upon a rock in front of me +and glanced off into the sea. When the sailors gave me my money +again, they kept back not only about a third of the whole sum, +but my father's leather purse; so that from that day out, I +carried my gold loose in a pocket with a button. I now saw there +must be a hole, and clapped my hand to the place in a great +hurry. But this was to lock the stable door after the steed was +stolen. I had left the shore at Queensferry with near on fifty +pounds; now I found no more than two guinea-pieces and a silver +shilling. + +It is true I picked up a third guinea a little after, where it +lay shining on a piece of turf. That made a fortune of three +pounds and four shillings, English money, for a lad, the rightful +heir of an estate, and now starving on an isle at the extreme end +of the wild Highlands. + +This state of my affairs dashed me still further; and, indeed my +plight on that third morning was truly pitiful. My clothes were +beginning to rot; my stockings in particular were quite worn +through, so that my shanks went naked; my hands had grown quite +soft with the continual soaking; my throat was very sore, my +strength had much abated, and my heart so turned against the +horrid stuff I was condemned to eat, that the very sight of it +came near to sicken me. + +And yet the worst was not yet come. + +There is a pretty high rock on the northwest of Earraid, which +(because it had a flat top and overlooked the Sound) I was much +in the habit of frequenting; not that ever I stayed in one place, +save when asleep, my misery giving me no rest. Indeed, I wore +myself down with continual and aimless goings and comings in the +rain. + +As soon, however, as the sun came out, I lay down on the top of +that rock to dry myself. The comfort of the sunshine is a thing +I cannot tell. It set me thinking hopefully of my deliverance, +of which I had begun to despair; and I scanned the sea and the +Ross with a fresh interest. On the south of my rock, a part of +the island jutted out and hid the open ocean, so that a boat +could thus come quite near me upon that side, and I be none the +wiser. + +Well, all of a sudden, a coble with a brown sail and a pair of +fishers aboard of it, came flying round that corner of the isle, +bound for Iona. I shouted out, and then fell on my knees on the +rock and reached up my hands and prayed to them. They were near +enough to hear -- I could even see the colour of their hair; and +there was no doubt but they observed me, for they cried out in +the Gaelic tongue, and laughed. But the boat never turned aside, +and flew on, right before my eyes, for Iona. + +I could not believe such wickedness, and ran along the shore from +rock to rock, crying on them piteously. even after they were out +of reach of my voice, I still cried and waved to them; and when +they were quite gone, I thought my heart would have burst. All +the time of my troubles I wept only twice. Once, when I could +not reach the yard, and now, the second time, when these fishers +turned a deaf ear to my cries. But this time I wept and roared +like a wicked child, tearing up the turf with my nails, and +grinding my face in the earth. If a wish would kill men, those +two fishers would never have seen morning, and I should likely +have died upon my island. + +When I was a little over my anger, I must eat again, but with +such loathing of the mess as I could now scarce control. Sure +enough, I should have done as well to fast, for my fishes +poisoned me again. I had all my first pains; my throat was so +sore I could scarce swallow; I had a fit of strong shuddering, +which clucked my teeth together; and there came on me that +dreadful sense of illness, which we have no name for either in +Scotch or English. I thought I should have died, and made my +peace with God, forgiving all men, even my uncle and the fishers; +and as soon as I had thus made up my mind to the worst, clearness +came upon me; I observed the night was falling dry; my clothes +were dried a good deal; truly, I was in a better case than ever +before, since I had landed on the isle; and so I got to sleep at +last, with a thought of gratitude. + +The next day (which was the fourth of this horrible life of mine) +I found my bodily strength run very low. But the sun shone, the +air was sweet, and what I managed to eat of the shell-fish agreed +well with me and revived my courage. + +I was scarce back on my rock (where I went always the first thing +after I had eaten) before I observed a boat coming down the +Sound, and with her head, as I thought, in my direction. + +I began at once to hope and fear exceedingly; for I thought these +men might have thought better of their cruelty and be coming back +to my assistance. But another disappointment, such as +yesterday's, was more than I could bear. I turned my back, +accordingly, upon the sea, and did not look again till I had +counted many hundreds. The boat was still heading for the +island. The next time I counted the full thousand, as slowly as +I could, my heart beating so as to hurt me. And then it was out +of all question. She was coming straight to Earraid! + +I could no longer hold myself back, but ran to the seaside and +out, from one rock to another, as far as I could go. It is a +marvel I was not drowned; for when I was brought to a stand at +last, my legs shook under me, and my mouth was so dry, I must wet +it with the sea-water before I was able to shout. + +All this time the boat was coming on; and now I was able to +perceive it was the same boat and the same two men as yesterday. +This I knew by their hair, which the one had of a bright yellow +and the other black. But now there was a third man along with +them, who looked to be of a better class. + +As soon as they were come within easy speech, they let down their +sail and lay quiet. In spite of my supplications, they drew no +nearer in, and what frightened me most of all, the new man +tee-hee'd with laughter as he talked and looked at me. + +Then he stood up in the boat and addressed me a long while, +speaking fast and with many wavings of his hand. I told him I had +no Gaelic; and at this he became very angry, and I began to +suspect he thought he was talking English. Listening very close, +I caught the word "whateffer" several times; but all the rest was +Gaelic and might have been Greek and Hebrew for me. + +"Whatever," said I, to show him I had caught a word. + +"Yes, yes -- yes, yes," says he, and then he looked at the other +men, as much as to say, "I told you I spoke English," and began +again as hard as ever in the Gaelic. + +This time I picked out another word, "tide." Then I had a flash +of hope. I remembered he was always waving his hand towards the +mainland of the Ross. + +"Do you mean when the tide is out --?" I cried, and could not +finish. + +"Yes, yes," said he. "Tide." + +At that I turned tail upon their boat (where my adviser had once +more begun to tee-hee with laughter), leaped back the way I had +come, from one stone to another, and set off running across the +isle as I had never run before. In about half an hour I came out +upon the shores of the creek; and, sure enough, it was shrunk +into a little trickle of water, through which I dashed, not above +my knees, and landed with a shout on the main island. + +A sea-bred boy would not have stayed a day on Earraid; which is +only what they call a tidal islet, and except in the bottom of +the neaps, can be entered and left twice in every twenty-four +hours, either dry-shod, or at the most by wading. Even I, who +had the tide going out and in before me in the bay, and even +watched for the ebbs, the better to get my shellfish -- even I (I +say) if I had sat down to think, instead of raging at my fate, +must have soon guessed the secret, and got free. It was no +wonder the fishers had not understood me. The wonder was rather +that they had ever guessed my pitiful illusion, and taken the +trouble to come back. I had starved with cold and hunger on that +island for close upon one hundred hours. But for the fishers, I +might have left my bones there, in pure folly. And even as it +was, I had paid for it pretty dear, not only in past sufferings, +but in my present case; being clothed like a beggar-man, scarce +able to walk, and in great pain of my sore throat. + +I have seen wicked men and fools, a great many of both; and I +believe they both get paid in the end; but the fools first. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL + +The Ross of Mull, which I had now got upon, was rugged and +trackless, like the isle I had just left; being all bog, and +brier, and big stone. There may be roads for them that know that +country well; but for my part I had no better guide than my own +nose, and no other landmark than Ben More. + +I aimed as well as I could for the smoke I had seen so often from +the island; and with all my great weariness and the difficulty of +the way came upon the house in the bottom of a little hollow +about five or six at night. It was low and longish, roofed with +turf and built of unmortared stones; and on a mound in front of +it, an old gentleman sat smoking his pipe in the sun. + +With what little English he had, he gave me to understand that my +shipmates had got safe ashore, and had broken bread in that very +house on the day after. + +"Was there one," I asked, "dressed like a gentleman?" + +He said they all wore rough great-coats; but to be sure, the +first of them, the one that came alone, wore breeches and +stockings, while the rest had sailors' trousers. + +"Ah," said I, "and he would have a feathered hat?" + +He told me, no, that he was bareheaded like myself. + +At first I thought Alan might have lost his hat; and then the +rain came in my mind, and I judged it more likely he had it out +of harm's way under his great-coat. This set me smiling, partly +because my friend was safe, partly to think of his vanity in +dress. + +And then the old gentleman clapped his hand to his brow, and +cried out that I must be the lad with the silver button. + +"Why, yes!" said I, in some wonder. + +"Well, then," said the old gentleman, "I have a word for you, +that you are to follow your friend to his country, by Torosay." + +He then asked me how I had fared, and I told him my tale. A +south-country man would certainly have laughed; but this old +gentleman (I call him so because of his manners, for his clothes +were dropping off his back) heard me all through with nothing but +gravity and pity. When I had done, he took me by the hand, led +me into his hut (it was no better) and presented me before his +wife, as if she had been the Queen and I a duke. + +The good woman set oat-bread before me and a cold grouse, patting +my shoulder and smiling to me all the time, for she had no +English; and the old gentleman (not to be behind) brewed me a +strong punch out of their country spirit. All the while I was +eating, and after that when I was drinking the punch, I could +scarce come to believe in my good fortune; and the house, though +it was thick with the peat-smoke and as full of holes as a +colander, seemed like a palace. + +The punch threw me in a strong sweat and a deep slumber; the good +people let me lie; and it was near noon of the next day before I +took the road, my throat already easier and my spirits quite +restored by good fare and good news. The old gentleman, although +I pressed him hard, would take no money, and gave me an old +bonnet for my head; though I am free to own I was no sooner out +of view of the house than I very jealously washed this gift of +his in a wayside fountain. + +Thought I to myself: "If these are the wild Highlanders, I could +wish my own folk wilder." + +I not only started late, but I must have wandered nearly half the +time. True, I met plenty of people, grubbing in little miserable +fields that would not keep a cat, or herding little kine about +the bigness of asses. The Highland dress being forbidden by law +since the rebellion, and the people condemned to the Lowland +habit, which they much disliked, it was strange to see the +variety of their array. Some went bare, only for a hanging cloak +or great-coat, and carried their trousers on their backs like a +useless burthen: some had made an imitation of the tartan with +little parti-coloured stripes patched together like an old wife's +quilt; others, again, still wore the Highland philabeg, but by +putting a few stitches between the legs transformed it into a +pair of trousers like a Dutchman's. All those makeshifts were +condemned and punished, for the law was harshly applied, in hopes +to break up the clan spirit; but in that out-of-the-way, +sea-bound isle, there were few to make remarks and fewer to tell +tales. + +They seemed in great poverty; which was no doubt natural, now +that rapine was put down, and the chiefs kept no longer an open +house; and the roads (even such a wandering, country by--track as +the one I followed) were infested with beggars. And here again I +marked a difference from my own part of the country. For our +Lowland beggars -- even the gownsmen themselves, who beg by +patent -- had a louting, flattering way with them, and if you +gave them a plaek and asked change, would very civilly return you +a boddle. But these Highland beggars stood on their dignity, +asked alms only to buy snuff (by their account) and would give no +change. + +To be sure, this was no concern of mine, except in so far as it +entertained me by the way. What was much more to the purpose, +few had any English, and these few (unless they were of the +brotherhood of beggars) not very anxious to place it at my +service. I knew Torosay to be my destination, and repeated the +name to them and pointed; but instead of simply pointing in +reply, they would give me a screed of the Gaelic that set me +foolish; so it was small wonder if I went out of my road as often +as I stayed in it. + +At last, about eight at night, and already very weary, I came to +a lone house, where I asked admittance, and was refused, until I +bethought me of the power of money in so poor a country, and held +up one of my guineas in my finger and thumb. Thereupon, the man +of the house, who had hitherto pretended to have no English, and +driven me from his door by signals, suddenly began to speak as +clearly as was needful, and agreed for five shillings to give me +a night's lodging and guide me the next day to Torosay. + +I slept uneasily that night, fearing I should be robbed; but I +might have spared myself the pain; for my host was no robber, +only miserably poor and a great cheat. He was not alone in his +poverty; for the next morning, we must go five miles about to the +house of what he called a rich man to have one of my guineas +changed. This was perhaps a rich man for Mull; he would have +scarce been thought so in the south; for it took all he had -- +the whole house was turned upside down, and a neighbour brought +under contribution, before he could scrape together twenty +shillings in silver. The odd shilling he kept for himself, +protesting he could ill afford to have so great a sum of money +lying "locked up." For all that he was very courteous and well +spoken, made us both sit down with his family to dinner, and +brewed punch in a fine china bowl, over which my rascal guide +grew so merry that he refused to start. + +I was for getting angry, and appealed to the rich man (Hector +Maclean was his name), who had been a witness to our bargain and +to my payment of the five shillings. But Maclean had taken his +share of the punch, and vowed that no gentleman should leave his +table after the bowl was brewed; so there was nothing for it but +to sit and hear Jacobite toasts and Gaelic songs, till all were +tipsy and staggered off to the bed or the barn for their night's +rest. + +Next day (the fourth of my travels) we were up before five upon +the clock; but my rascal guide got to the bottle at once, and it +was three hours before I had him clear of the house, and then (as +you shall hear) only for a worse disappointment. + +As long as we went down a heathery valley that lay before Mr. +Maclean's house, all went well; only my guide looked constantly +over his shoulder, and when I asked him the cause, only grinned +at me. No sooner, however, had we crossed the back of a hill, +and got out of sight of the house windows, than he told me +Torosay lay right in front, and that a hill-top (which he pointed +out) was my best landmark. + +"I care very little for that," said I, "since you are going with +me." + +The impudent cheat answered me in the Gaelic that he had no +English. + +"My fine fellow," I said, "I know very well your English comes +and goes. Tell me what will bring it back? Is it more money you +wish?" + +"Five shillings mair," said he, "and hersel' will bring ye +there." + +I reflected awhile and then offered him two, which he accepted +greedily, and insisted on having in his hands at once "for luck," +as he said, but I think it was rather for my misfortune. + +The two shillings carried him not quite as many miles; at the end +of which distance, he sat down upon the wayside and took off his +brogues from his feet, like a man about to rest. + +I was now red-hot. "Ha!" said I, "have you no more English?" + +He said impudently, "No." + +At that I boiled over, and lifted my hand to strike him; and he, +drawing a knife from his rags, squatted back and grinned at me +like a wildcat. At that, forgetting everything but my anger, I +ran in upon him, put aside his knife with my left, and struck him +in the mouth with the right. I was a strong lad and very angry, +and he but a little man; and he went down before me heavily. By +good luck, his knife flew out of his hand as he fell. + +I picked up both that and his brogues, wished him a good morning, +and set off upon my way, leaving him barefoot and disarmed. I +chuckled to myself as I went, being sure I was done with that +rogue, for a variety of reasons. First, he knew he could have no +more of my money; next, the brogues were worth in that country +only a few pence; and, lastly, the knife, which was really a +dagger, it was against the law for him to carry. + +In about half an hour of walk, I overtook a great, ragged man, +moving pretty fast but feeling before him with a staff. He was +quite blind, and told me he was a catechist, which should have +put me at my ease. But his face went against me; it seemed dark +and dangerous and secret; and presently, as we began to go on +alongside, I saw the steel butt of a pistol sticking from under +the flap of his coat-pocket. To carry such a thing meant a fine +of fifteen pounds sterling upon a first offence, and +transportation to the colonies upon a second. Nor could I quite +see why a religious teacher should go armed, or what a blind man +could be doing with a pistol. + +I told him about my guide, for I was proud of what I had done, +and my vanity for once got the heels of my prudence. At the +mention of the five shillings he cried out so loud that I made up +my mind I should say nothing of the other two, and was glad he +could not see my blushes. + +"Was it too much?" I asked, a little faltering. + +"Too much!" cries he. "Why, I will guide you to Torosay myself +for a dram of brandy. And give you the great pleasure of my +company (me that is a man of some learning) in the bargain." + +I said I did not see how a blind man could be a guide; but at +that he laughed aloud, and said his stick was eyes enough for an +eagle. + +"In the Isle of Mull, at least," says he, "where I know every +stone and heather-bush by mark of head. See, now," he said, +striking right and left, as if to make sure, "down there a burn +is running; and at the head of it there stands a bit of a small +hill with a stone cocked upon the top of that; and it's hard at +the foot of the hill, that the way runs by to Torosay; and the +way here, being for droves, is plainly trodden, and will show +grassy through the heather." + +I had to own he was right in every feature, and told my wonder. + +"Ha!" says he, "that's nothing. Would ye believe me now, that +before the Act came out, and when there were weepons in this +country, I could shoot? Ay, could I!" cries he, and then with a +leer: "If ye had such a thing as a pistol here to try with, I +would show ye how it's done." + +I told him I had nothing of the sort, and gave him a wider berth. +If he had known, his pistol stuck at that time quite plainly out +of his pocket, and I could see the sun twinkle on the steel of +the butt. But by the better luck for me, he knew nothing, +thought all was covered, and lied on in the dark. + +He then began to question me cunningly, where I came from, +whether I was rich, whether I could change a five-shilling piece +for him (which he declared he had that moment in his sporran), +and all the time he kept edging up to me and I avoiding him. We +were now upon a sort of green cattle-track which crossed the +hills towards Torosay, and we kept changing sides upon that like + ancers in a reel. I had so plainly the upper-hand that my +spirits rose, and indeed I took a pleasure in this game of +blindman's buff; but the catechist grew angrier and angrier, and +at last began to swear in Gaelic and to strike for my legs with +his staff. + +Then I told him that, sure enough, I had a pistol in my pocket as +well as he, and if he did not strike across the hill due south I +would even blow his brains out. + +He became at once very polite, and after trying to soften me for +some time, but quite in vain, he cursed me once more in Gaelic +and took himself off. I watched him striding along, through bog +and brier, tapping with his stick, until he turned the end of a +hill and disappeared in the next hollow. Then I struck on again +for Torosay, much better pleased to be alone than to travel with +that man of learning. This was an unlucky day; and these two, of +whom I had just rid myself, one after the other, were the two +worst men I met with in the Highlands. + +At Torosay, on the Sound of Mull and looking over to the mainland +of Morven, there was an inn with an innkeeper, who was a Maclean, +it appeared, of a very high family; for to keep an inn is thought +even more genteel in the Highlands than it is with us, perhaps as +partaking of hospitality, or perhaps because the trade is idle +and drunken. He spoke good English, and finding me to be +something of a scholar, tried me first in French, where he easily +beat me, and then in the Latin, in which I don't know which of us +did best. This pleasant rivalry put us at once upon friendly +terms; and I sat up and drank punch with him (or to be more +correct, sat up and watched him drink it), until he was so tipsy +that he wept upon my shoulder. + +I tried him, as if by accident, with a sight of Alan's button; +but it was plain he had never seen or heard of it. Indeed, he +bore some grudge against the family and friends of Ardshiel, and +before he was drunk he read me a lampoon, in very good Latin, but +with a very ill meaning, which he had made in elegiac verses upon +a person of that house. + +When I told him of my catechist, he shook his head, and said I +was lucky to have got clear off. "That is a very dangerous man," +he said; "Duncan Mackiegh is his name; he can shoot by the ear at +several yards, and has been often accused of highway robberies, +and once of murder." + +"The cream of it is," says I, "that he called himself a +catechist." + +"And why should he not?" says he, "when that is what he is. It +was Maclean of Duart gave it to him because he was blind. But +perhaps it was a peety," says my host, "for he is always on the +road, going from one place to another to hear the young folk say +their religion; and, doubtless, that is a great temptation to the +poor man." + +At last, when my landlord could drink no more, he showed me to a +bed, and I lay down in very good spirits; having travelled the +greater part of that big and crooked Island of Mull, from Earraid +to Torosay, fifty miles as the crow flies, and (with my +wanderings) much nearer a hundred, in four days and with little +fatigue. Indeed I was by far in better heart and health of body +at the end of that long tramp than I had been at the beginning. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN + +There is a regular ferry from Torosay to Kinlochaline on the +mainland. Both shores of the Sound are in the country of the +strong clan of the Macleans, and the people that passed the ferry +with me were almost all of that clan. The skipper of the boat, +on the other hand, was called Neil Roy Macrob; and since Macrob +was one of the names of Alan's clansmen, and Alan himself had +sent me to that ferry, I was eager to come to private speech of +Neil Roy. + +In the crowded boat this was of course impossible, and the +passage was a very slow affair. There was no wind, and as the +boat was wretchedly equipped, we could pull but two oars on one +side, and one on the other. The men gave way, however, with a +good will, the passengers taking spells to help them, and the +whole company giving the time in Gaelic boat-songs. And what +with the songs, and the sea-air, and the good-nature and spirit +of all concerned, and the bright weather, the passage was a +pretty thing to have seen. + +But there was one melancholy part. In the mouth of Loch Aline we +found a great sea-going ship at anchor; and this I supposed at +first to be one of the King's cruisers which were kept along that +coast, both summer and winter, to prevent communication with the +French. As we got a little nearer, it became plain she was a +ship of merchandise; and what still more puzzled me, not only her +decks, but the sea-beach also, were quite black with people, and +skiffs were continually plying to and fro between them. Yet +nearer, and there began to come to our ears a great sound of +mourning, the people on board and those on the shore crying and +lamenting one to another so as to pierce the heart. + +Then I understood this was an emigrant ship bound for the +American colonies. + +We put the ferry-boat alongside, and the exiles leaned over the +bulwarks, weeping and reaching out their hands to my +fellow-passengers, among whom they counted some near friends. +How long this might have gone on I do not know, for they seemed +to have no sense of time: but at last the captain of the ship, +who seemed near beside himself (and no great wonder) in the midst +of this crying and confusion, came to the side and begged us to +depart. + +Thereupon Neil sheered off; and the chief singer in our boat +struck into a melancholy air, which was presently taken up both +by the emigrants and their friends upon the beach, so that it +sounded from all sides like a lament for the dying. I saw the +tears run down the cheeks of the men and women in the boat, even +as they bent at the oars; and the circumstances and the music of +the song (which is one called "Lochaber no more") were highly +affecting even to myself. + +At Kinlochaline I got Neil Roy upon one side on the beach, and +said I made sure he was one of Appin's men. + +"And what for no?" said he. + +"I am seeking somebody," said I; "and it comes in my mind that +you will have news of him. Alan Breck Stewart is his name." And +very foolishly, instead of showing him the button, I sought to +pass a shilling in his hand. + +At this he drew back. "I am very much affronted," he said; "and +this is not the way that one shentleman should behave to another +at all. The man you ask for is in France; but if he was in my +sporran," says he, "and your belly full of shillings, I would not +hurt a hair upon his body." + +I saw I had gone the wrong way to work, and without wasting time +upon apologies, showed him the button lying in the hollow of my +palm. + +"Aweel, aweel," said Neil; "and I think ye might have begun with +that end of the stick, whatever! But if ye are the lad with the +silver button, all is well, and I have the word to see that ye +come safe. But if ye will pardon me to speak plainly," says he, +"there is a name that you should never take into your mouth, and +that is the name of Alan Breck; and there is a thing that ye +would never do, and that is to offer your dirty money to a +Hieland shentleman." + +It was not very easy to apologise; for I could scarce tell him +(what was the truth) that I had never dreamed he would set up to +be a gentleman until he told me so. Neil on his part had no wish +to prolong his dealings with me, only to fulfil his orders and be +done with it; and he made haste to give me my route. This was to +lie the night in Kinlochaline in the public inn; to cross Morven +the next day to Ardgour, and lie the night in the house of one +John of the Claymore, who was warned that I might come; the third +day, to be set across one loch at Corran and another at +Balachulish, and then ask my way to the house of James of the +Glens, at Aucharn in Duror of Appin. There was a good deal of +ferrying, as you hear; the sea in all this part running deep into +the mountains and winding about their roots. It makes the +country strong to hold and difficult to travel, but full of +prodigious wild and dreadful prospects. + +I had some other advice from Neil: to speak with no one by the +way, to avoid Whigs, Campbells, and the "red-soldiers;" to leave +the road and lie in a bush if I saw any of the latter coming, +"for it was never chancy to meet in with them;" and in brief, to +conduct myself like a robber or a Jacobite agent, as perhaps Neil +thought me. + +The inn at Kinlochaline was the most beggarly vile place that +ever pigs were styed in, full of smoke, vermin, and silent +Highlanders. I was not only discontented with my lodging, but +with myself for my mismanagement of Neil, and thought I could +hardly be worse off. But very wrongly, as I was soon to see; for +I had not been half an hour at the inn (standing in the door most +of the time, to ease my eyes from the peat smoke) when a +thunderstorm came close by, the springs broke in a little hill on +which the inn stood, and one end of the house became a running +water. Places of public entertainment were bad enough all over +Scotland in those days; yet it was a wonder to myself, when I had +to go from the fireside to the bed in which I slept, wading over +the shoes. + +Early in my next day's journey I overtook a little, stout, solemn +man, walking very slowly with his toes turned out, sometimes +reading in a book and sometimes marking the place with his +finger, and dressed decently and plainly in something of a +clerical style. + +This I found to be another catechist, but of a different order +from the blind man of Mull: being indeed one of those sent out by +the Edinburgh Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge, to +evangelise the more savage places of the Highlands. His name was +Henderland; he spoke with the broad south-country tongue, which I +was beginning to weary for the sound of; and besides common +countryship, we soon found we had a more particular bond of +interest. For my good friend, the minister of Essendean, had +translated into the Gaelic in his by-time a number of hymns and +pious books which Henderland used in his work, and held in great +esteem. Indeed, it was one of these he was carrying and reading +when we met. + +We fell in company at once, our ways lying together as far as to +Kingairloch. As we went, he stopped and spoke with all the +wayfarers and workers that we met or passed; and though of course +I could not tell what they discoursed about, yet I judged Mr. +Henderland must be well liked in the countryside, for I observed +many of them to bring out their mulls and share a pinch of snuff +with him. + +I told him as far in my affairs as I judged wise; as far, that +is, as they were none of Alan's; and gave Balachulish as the +place I was travelling to, to meet a friend; for I thought +Aucharn, or even Duror, would be too particular, and might put +him on the scent. + +On his part, he told me much of his work and the people he worked +among, the hiding priests and Jacobites, the Disarming Act, the +dress, and many other curiosities of the time and place. He +seemed moderate; blaming Parliament in several points, and +especially because they had framed the Act more severely against +those who wore the dress than against those who carried weapons. + +This moderation put it in my mind to question him of the Red Fox +and the Appin tenants; questions which, I thought, would seem +natural enough in the mouth of one travelling to that country. + + + +He said it was a bad business. "It's wonderful," said he, "where +the tenants find the money, for their life is mere starvation. +(Ye don't carry such a thing as snuff, do ye, Mr. Balfour? No. +Well, I'm better wanting it.) But these tenants (as I was +saying) are doubtless partly driven to it. James Stewart in +Duror (that's him they call James of the Glens) is half-brother +to Ardshiel, the captain of the clan; and he is a man much looked +up to, and drives very hard. And then there's one they call Alan +Breck--" + +"Ah!" I cried, "what of him?" + +"What of the wind that bloweth where it listeth?" said +Henderland. "He's here and awa; here to-day and gone to-morrow: +a fair heather-cat. He might be glowering at the two of us out +of yon whin-bush, and I wouldnae wonder! Ye'll no carry such a +thing as snuff, will ye?" + +I told him no, and that he had asked the same thing more than +once. + +"It's highly possible," said he, sighing. "But it seems strange +ye shouldnae carry it. However, as I was saying, this Alan Breck +is a bold, desperate customer, and well kent to be James's right +hand. His life is forfeit already; he would boggle at naething; +and maybe, if a tenant-body was to hang back he would get a dirk +in his wame." + +"You make a poor story of it all, Mr. Henderland," said I. "If +it is all fear upon both sides, I care to hear no more of it." + +"Na," said Mr. Henderland, "but there's love too, and self-denial +that should put the like of you and me to shame. There's +something fine about it; no perhaps Christian, but humanly fine. +Even Alan Breck, by all that I hear, is a chield to be respected. +There's many a lying sneck-draw sits close in kirk in our own +part of the country, and stands well in the world's eye, and +maybe is a far worse man, Mr. Balfour, than yon misguided shedder +of man's blood. Ay, ay, we might take a lesson by them. -- Ye'll +perhaps think I've been too long in the Hielands?" he added, +smiling to me. + +I told him not at all; that I had seen much to admire among the +Highlanders; and if he came to that, Mr. Campbell himself was a +Highlander. + +"Ay," said he, "that's true. It's a fine blood." + +"And what is the King's agent about?" I asked. + +"Colin Campbell?" says Henderland. "Putting his head in a bees' +byke!" + +"He is to turn the tenants out by force, I hear?" said I. + +"Yes," says he, "but the business has gone back and forth, as +folk say. First, James of the Glens rode to Edinburgh, and got +some lawyer (a Stewart, nae doubt -- they all hing together like +bats in a steeple) and had the proceedings stayed. And then +Colin Campbell cam' in again, and had the upper-hand before the +Barons of Exchequer. And now they tell me the first of the +tenants are to flit to-morrow. It's to begin at Duror under +James's very windows, which doesnae seem wise by my humble way of +it." + +"Do you think they'll fight?" I asked. + +"Well," says Henderland, "they're disarmed -- or supposed to be +-- for there's still a good deal of cold iron lying by in quiet +places. And then Colin Campbell has the sogers coming. But for +all that, if I was his lady wife, I wouldnae be well pleased till +I got him home again. They're queer customers, the Appin +Stewarts." + +I asked if they were worse than their neighbours. + +"No they," said he. "And that's the worst part of it. For if +Colin Roy can get his business done in Appin, he has it all to +begin again in the next country, which they call Mamore, and +which is one of the countries of the Camerons. He's King's +Factor upon both, and from both he has to drive out the tenants; +and indeed, Mr. Balfour (to be open with ye), it's my belief that +if he escapes the one lot, he'll get his death by the other." + +So we continued talking and walking the great part of the, day; +until at last, Mr. Henderland after expressing his delight in my +company, and satisfaction at meeting with a friend of Mr. +Campbell's ("whom," says he, "I will make bold to call that sweet +singer of our covenanted Zion"), proposed that I should make a +short stage, and lie the night in his house a little beyond +Kingairloch. To say truth, I was overjoyed; for I had no great +desire for John of the Claymore, and since my double +misadventure, first with the guide and next with the gentleman +skipper, I stood in some fear of any Highland stranger. +Accordingly we shook hands upon the bargain, and came in the +afternoon to a small house, standing alone by the shore of the +Linnhe Loch. The sun was already gone from the desert mountains +of Ardgour upon the hither side, but shone on those of Appin on +the farther; the loch lay as still as a lake, only the gulls were +crying round the sides of it; and the whole place seemed solemn +and uncouth. + +We had no sooner come to the door of Mr. Henderland's dwelling, +than to my great surprise (for I was now used to the politeness +of Highlanders) he burst rudely past me, dashed into the room, +caught up a jar and a small horn-spoon, and began ladling snuff +into his nose in most excessive quantities. Then he had a hearty +fit of sneezing, and looked round upon me with a rather silly +smile. + +"It's a vow I took," says he. "I took a vow upon me that I +wouldnae carry it. Doubtless it's a great privation; but when I +think upon the martyrs, not only to the Scottish Covenant but to +other points of Christianity, I think shame to mind it." + +As soon as we had eaten (and porridge and whey was the best of +the good man's diet) he took a grave face and said he had a duty +to perform by Mr. Campbell, and that was to inquire into my state +of mind towards God. I was inclined to smile at him since the +business of the snuff; but he had not spoken long before he +brought the tears into my eyes. There are two things that men +should never weary of, goodness and humility; we get none too +much of them in this rough world among cold, proud people; but +Mr. Henderland had their very speech upon his tongue. And though +I was a good deal puffed up with my adventures and with having +come off, as the saying is, with flying colours; yet he soon had +me on my knees beside a simple, poor old man, and both proud and +glad to be there. + +Before we went to bed he offered me sixpence to help me on my +way, out of a scanty store he kept in the turf wall of his house; +at which excess of goodness I knew not what to do. But at last +he was so earnest with me that I thought it the more mannerly +part to let him have his way, and so left him poorer than myself. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX + +The next day Mr. Henderland found for me a man who had a boat of +his own and was to cross the Linnhe Loch that afternoon into +Appin, fishing. Him he prevailed on to take me, for he was one +of his flock; and in this way I saved a long day's travel and the +price of the two public ferries I must otherwise have passed. + +It was near noon before we set out; a dark day with clouds, and +the sun shining upon little patches. The sea was here very deep +and still, and had scarce a wave upon it; so that I must put the +water to my lips before I could believe it to be truly salt. The +mountains on either side were high, rough and barren, very black +and gloomy in the shadow of the clouds, but all silver-laced with +little watercourses where the sun shone upon them. It seemed a +hard country, this of Appin, for people to care as much about as +Alan did. + +There was but one thing to mention. A little after we had +started, the sun shone upon a little moving clump of scarlet +close in along the water-side to the north. It was much of the +same red as soldiers' coats; every now and then, too, there came +little sparks and lightnings, as though the sun had struck upon +bright steel. + +I asked my boatman what it should be, and he answered he supposed +it was some of the red soldiers coming from Fort William into +Appin, against the poor tenantry of the country. Well, it was a +sad sight to me; and whether it was because of my thoughts of +Alan, or from something prophetic in my bosom, although this was +but the second time I had seen King George's troops, I had no +good will to them. + +At last we came so near the point of land at the entering in of +Loch Leven that I begged to be set on shore. My boatman (who was +an honest fellow and mindful of his promise to the catechist) +would fain have carried me on to Balachulish; but as this was to +take me farther from my secret destination, I insisted, and was +set on shore at last under the wood of Lettermore (or Lettervore, +for I have heard it both ways) in Alan's country of Appin. + +This was a wood of birches, growing on a steep, craggy side of a +mountain that overhung the loch. It had many openings and ferny +howes; and a road or bridle track ran north and south through the +midst of it, by the edge of which, where was a spring, I sat down +to eat some oat-bread of Mr. Henderland's and think upon my +situation. + +Here I was not only troubled by a cloud of stinging midges, but +far more by the doubts of my mind. What I ought to do, why I was +going to join myself with an outlaw and a would-be murderer like +Alan, whether I should not be acting more like a man of sense to +tramp back to the south country direct, by my own guidance and at +my own charges, and what Mr. Campbell or even Mr. Henderland +would think of me if they should ever learn my folly and +presumption: these were the doubts that now began to come in on +me stronger than ever. + +As I was so sitting and thinking, a sound of men and horses came +to me through the wood; and presently after, at a turning of the +road, I saw four travellers come into view. The way was in this +part so rough and narrow that they came single and led their +horses by the reins. The first was a great, red-headed +gentleman, of an imperious and flushed face, who carried his hat +in his hand and fanned himself, for he was in a breathing heat. +The second, by his decent black garb and white wig, I correctly +took to be a lawyer. The third was a servant, and wore some part +of his clothes in tartan, which showed that his master was of a +Highland family, and either an outlaw or else in singular good +odour with the Government, since the wearing of tartan was +against the Act. If I had been better versed in these things, I +would have known the tartan to be of the Argyle (or Campbell) +colours. This servant had a good-sized portmanteau strapped on +his horse, and a net of lemons (to brew punch with) hanging at +the saddle-bow; as was often enough the custom with luxurious +travellers in that part of the country. + +As for the fourth, who brought up the tail, I had seen his like +before, and knew him at once to be a sheriff's officer. + +I had no sooner seen these people coming than I made up my mind +(for no reason that I can tell) to go through with my adventure; +and when the first came alongside of me, I rose up from the +bracken and asked him the way to Aucharn. + +He stopped and looked at me, as I thought, a little oddly; and +then, turning to the lawyer, "Mungo," said he, "there's many a +man would think this more of a warning than two pyats. Here am I +on my road to Duror on the job ye ken; and here is a young lad +starts up out of the bracken, and speers if I am on the way to +Aucharn." + +"Glenure," said the other, "this is an ill subject for jesting." + +These two had now drawn close up and were gazing at me, while the +two followers had halted about a stone-cast in the rear. + +"And what seek ye in Aucharn?" said Colin Roy Campbell of +Glenure, him they called the Red Fox; for he it was that I had +stopped. + +"The man that lives there," said I. + +"James of the Glens," says Glenure, musingly; and then to the +lawyer: "Is he gathering his people, think ye?" + +"Anyway," says the lawyer, "we shall do better to bide where we +are, and let the soldiers rally us." + +"If you are concerned for me," said I, "I am neither of his +people nor yours, but an honest subject of King George, owing no +man and fearing no man." + +"Why, very well said," replies the Factor. "But if I may make so +bold as ask, what does this honest man so far from his country? +and why does he come seeking the brother of Ardshiel? I have +power here, I must tell you. I am King's Factor upon several of +these estates, and have twelve files of soldiers at my back." + +"I have heard a waif word in the country," said I, a little +nettled, "that you were a hard man to drive." + +He still kept looking at me, as if in doubt. + +"Well," said he, at last, "your tongue is bold; but I am no +unfriend to plainness. If ye had asked me the way to the door of +James Stewart on any other day but this, I would have set ye +right and bidden ye God speed. But to-day -- eh, Mungo?" And he +turned again to look at the lawyer. + +But just as he turned there came the shot of a firelock from +higher up the hill; and with the very sound of it Glenure fell +upon the road. + +"O, I am dead!" he cried, several times over. + +The lawyer had caught him up and held him in his arms, the +servant standing over and clasping his hands. And now the +wounded man looked from one to another with scared eyes, and +there was a change in his voice, that went to the heart. + +"Take care of yourselves," says he. "I am dead." + +He tried to open his clothes as if to look for the wound, but his +fingers slipped on the buttons. With that he gave a great sigh, +his head rolled on his shoulder, and he passed away. + +The lawyer said never a word, but his face was as sharp as a pen +and as white as the dead man's; the servant broke out into a +great noise of crying and weeping, like a child; and I, on my +side, stood staring at them in a kind of horror. The sheriff's +officer had run back at the first sound of the shot, to hasten +the coming of the soldiers. + +At last the lawyer laid down the dead man in his blood upon the +road, and got to his own feet with a kind of stagger. + +I believe it was his movement that brought me to my senses; for +he had no sooner done so than I began to scramble up the hill, +crying out, "The murderer! the murderer!" + +So little a time had elapsed, that when I got to the top of the +first steepness, and could see some part of the open mountain, +the murderer was still moving away at no great distance. He was +a big man, in a black coat, with metal buttons, and carried a +long fowling-piece. + +"Here!" I cried. "I see him!" + +At that the murderer gave a little, quick look over his shoulder, +and began to run. The next moment he was lost in a fringe of +birches; then he came out again on the upper side, where I could +see him climbing like a jackanapes, for that part was again very +steep; and then he dipped behind a shoulder, and I saw him no +more. + +All this time I had been running on my side, and had got a good +way up, when a voice cried upon me to stand. + +I was at the edge of the upper wood, and so now, when I halted +and looked back, I saw all the open part of the hill below me. + +The lawyer and the sheriff's officer were standing just above the +road, crying and waving on me to come back; and on their left, +the red-coats, musket in hand, were beginning to struggle singly +out of the lower wood. + +"Why should I come back?" I cried. "Come you on!" + +"Ten pounds if ye take that lad!" cried the lawyer. "He's an +accomplice. He was posted here to hold us in talk." + +At that word (which I could hear quite plainly, though it was to +the soldiers and not to me that he was crying it) my heart came +in my mouth with quite a new kind of terror. Indeed, it is one +thing to stand the danger of your life, and quite another to run +the peril of both life and character. The thing, besides, had +come so suddenly, like thunder out of a clear sky, that I was all +amazed and helpless. + +The soldiers began to spread, some of them to run, and others to +put up their pieces and cover me; and still I stood. + +"Jock[18] in here among the trees," said a voice close by. + +[18]Duck. + + +Indeed, I scarce knew what I was doing, but I obeyed; and as I +did so, I heard the firelocks bang and the balls whistle in the +birches. + +Just inside the shelter of the trees I found Alan Breck standing, +with a fishing-rod. He gave me no salutation; indeed it was no +time for civilities; only "Come!" says he, and set off running +along the side of the mountain towards Balaehulish; and I, like a +sheep, to follow him. + +Now we ran among the birches; now stooping behind low humps upon +the mountain-side; now crawling on all fours among the heather. +The pace was deadly: my heart seemed bursting against my ribs; +and I had neither time to think nor breath to speak with. Only I +remember seeing with wonder, that Alan every now and then would +straighten himself to his full height and look back; and every +time he did so, there came a great far-away cheering and crying +of the soldiers. + +Quarter of an hour later, Alan stopped, clapped down flat in the +heather, and turned to me. + +"Now," said he, "it's earnest. Do as I do, for your life." + +And at the same speed, but now with infinitely more precaution, +we traced back again across the mountain-side by the same way +that we had come, only perhaps higher; till at last Alan threw +himself down in the upper wood of Lettermore, where I had found +him at the first, and lay, with his face in the bracken, panting +like a dog. + +My own sides so ached, my head so swam, my tongue so hung out of +my mouth with heat and dryness, that I lay beside him like one +dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +I TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE + +Alan was the first to come round. He rose, went to the border of +the wood, peered out a little, and then returned and sat down. + +"Well," said he, "yon was a hot burst, David." + +I said nothing, nor so much as lifted my face. I had seen murder +done, and a great, ruddy, jovial gentleman struck out of life in +a moment; the pity of that sight was still sore within me, and +yet that was but a part of my concern. Here was murder done upon +the man Alan hated; here was Alan skulking in the trees and +running from the troops; and whether his was the hand that fired +or only the head that ordered, signified but little. By my way +of it, my only friend in that wild country was blood-guilty in +the first degree; I held him in horror; I could not look upon his +face; I would have rather lain alone in the rain on my cold isle, +than in that warm wood beside a murderer. + +"Are ye still wearied?" he asked again. + +"No," said I, still with my face in the bracken; "no, I am not +wearied now, and I can speak. You and me must twine,"[19] I said. +"I liked you very well, Alan, but your ways are not mine, and +they're not God's: and the short and the long of it is just that +we must twine." + +[19] Part. + + +"I will hardly twine from ye, David, without some kind of reason +for the same," said Alan, mighty gravely. "If ye ken anything +against my reputation, it's the least thing that ye should do, +for old acquaintance' sake, to let me hear the name of it; and if +ye have only taken a distaste to my society, it will be proper +for me to judge if I'm insulted." + +"Alan," said I, "what is the sense of this? Ye ken very well yon +Campbell-man lies in his blood upon the road." + +He was silent for a little; then says he, "Did ever ye hear tell +of the story of the Man and the Good People?" -- by which he +meant the fairies. + +"No," said I, "nor do I want to hear it." + +"With your permission, Mr. Balfour, I will tell it you, +whatever," says Alan. "The man, ye should ken, was cast upon a +rock in the sea, where it appears the Good People were in use to +come and rest as they went through to Ireland. The name of this +rock is called the Skerryvore, and it's not far from where we +suffered ship-wreck. Well, it seems the man cried so sore, if he +could just see his little bairn before he died! that at last the +king of the Good People took peety upon him, and sent one flying +that brought back the bairn in a poke[20] and laid it down beside +the man where he lay sleeping. So when the man woke, there was a +poke beside him and something into the inside of it that moved. +Well, it seems he was one of these gentry that think aye the +worst of things; and for greater security, he stuck his dirk +throughout that poke before he opened it, and there was his bairn +dead. I am thinking to myself, Mr. Balfour, that you and the man +are very much alike." + +[20] Bag. + + +"Do you mean you had no hand in it?" cried I, sitting up. + +"I will tell you first of all, Mr. Balfour of Shaws, as one +friend to another," said Alan, "that if I were going to kill a +gentleman, it would not be in my own country, to bring trouble on +my clan; and I would not go wanting sword and gun, and with a +long fishing-rod upon my back." + +"Well," said I, "that's true!" + +"And now," continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying his +hand upon it in a certain manner, "I swear upon the Holy Iron I +had neither art nor part, act nor thought in it." + +"I thank God for that!" cried I, and offered him my hand. + +He did not appear to see it. + +"And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell!" said he. +"They are not so scarce, that I ken!" + +"At least," said I, "you cannot justly blame me, for you know +very well what you told me in the brig. But the temptation and +the act are different, I thank God again for that. We may all be +tempted; but to take a life in cold blood, Alan!" And I could +say no more for the moment. "And do you know who did it?" I +added. "Do you know that man in the black coat?" + +"I have nae clear mind about his coat," said Alan cunningly, "but +it sticks in my head that it was blue." + +"Blue or black, did ye know him?" said I. + +"I couldnae just conscientiously swear to him," says Alan. "He +gaed very close by me, to be sure, but it's a strange thing that +I should just have been tying my brogues." + +"Can you swear that you don't know him, Alan?" I cried, half +angered, half in a mind to laugh at his evasions. + +"Not yet," says he; "but I've a grand memory for forgetting, +David." + +"And yet there was one thing I saw clearly," said I; "and that +was, that you exposed yourself and me to draw the soldiers." + +"It's very likely," said Alan; "and so would any gentleman. You +and me were innocent of that transaction." + +"The better reason, since we were falsely suspected, that we +should get clear," I cried. "The innocent should surely come +before the guilty." + +"Why, David," said he, "the innocent have aye a chance to get +assoiled in court; but for the lad that shot the bullet, I think +the best place for him will be the heather. Them that havenae +dipped their hands in any little difficulty, should be very +mindful of the case of them that have. And that is the good +Christianity. For if it was the other way round about, and the +lad whom I couldnae just clearly see had been in our shoes, and +we in his (as might very well have been), I think we would be a +good deal obliged to him oursel's if he would draw the soldiers." + +When it came to this, I gave Alan up. But he looked so innocent +all the time, and was in such clear good faith in what he said, +and so ready to sacrifice himself for what he deemed his duty, +that my mouth was closed. Mr. Henderland's words came back to +me: that we ourselves might take a lesson by these wild +Highlanders. Well, here I had taken mine. Alan's morals were +all tail-first; but he was ready to give his life for them, such +as they were. + +"Alan," said I, "I'll not say it's the good Christianity as I +understand it, but it's good enough. And here I offer ye my hand +for the second time." + +Whereupon he gave me both of his, saying surely I had cast a +spell upon him, for he could forgive me anything. Then he grew +very grave, and said we had not much time to throw away, but must +both flee that country: he, because he was a deserter, and the +whole of Appin would now be searched like a chamber, and every +one obliged to give a good account of himself; and I, because I +was certainly involved in the murder. + +"O!" says I, willing to give him a little lesson, "I have no fear +of the justice of my country." + +"As if this was your country!" said he. "Or as if ye would be +tried here, in a country of Stewarts!" + +"It's all Scotland," said I. + +"Man, I whiles wonder at ye," said Alan. "This is a Campbell +that's been killed. Well, it'll be tried in Inverara, the +Campbells' head place; with fifteen Campbells in the jury-box and +the biggest Campbell of all (and that's the Duke) sitting cocking +on the bench. Justice, David? The same justice, by all the +world, as Glenure found awhile ago at the roadside." + +This frightened me a little, I confess, and would have frightened +me more if I had known how nearly exact were Alan's predictions; +indeed it was but in one point that he exaggerated, there being +but eleven Campbells on the jury; though as the other four were +equally in the Duke's dependence, it mattered less than might +appear. Still, I cried out that he was unjust to the Duke of +Argyle, who (for all he was a Whig) was yet a wise and honest +nobleman. + +"Hoot!" said Alan, "the man's a Whig, nae doubt; but I would +never deny he was a good chieftain to his clan. And what would +the clan think if there was a Campbell shot, and naebody hanged, +and their own chief the Justice General? But I have often +observed," says Alan, "that you Low-country bodies have no clear +idea of what's right and wrong." + +At this I did at last laugh out aloud, when to my surprise, Alan +joined in, and laughed as merrily as myself. + +"Na, na," said he, "we're in the Hielands, David; and when I tell +ye to run, take my word and run. Nae doubt it's a hard thing to +skulk and starve in the Heather, but it's harder yet to lie +shackled in a red-coat prison." + +I asked him whither we should flee; and as he told me "to the +Lowlands," I was a little better inclined to go with him; for, +indeed, I was growing impatient to get back and have the +upper-hand of my uncle. Besides, Alan made so sure there would +be no question of justice in the matter, that I began to be +afraid he might be right. Of all deaths, I would truly like +least to die by the gallows; and the picture of that uncanny +instrument came into my head with extraordinary clearness (as I +had once seen it engraved at the top of a pedlar's ballad) and +took away my appetite for courts of justice. + +"I'll chance it, Alan," said I. "I'll go with you." + +"But mind you," said Alan, "it's no small thing. Ye maun lie +bare and hard, and brook many an empty belly. Your bed shall be +the moorcock's, and your life shall be like the hunted deer's, +and ye shall sleep with your hand upon your weapons. Ay, man, ye +shall taigle many a weary foot, or we get clear! I tell ye this +at the start, for it's a life that I ken well. But if ye ask +what other chance ye have, I answer: Nane. Either take to the +heather with me, or else hang." + +"And that's a choice very easily made," said I; and we shook +hands upon it. + +"And now let's take another keek at the red-coats," says Alan, +and he led me to the north-eastern fringe of the wood. + +Looking out between the trees, we could see a great side of +mountain, running down exceeding steep into the waters of the +loch. It was a rough part, all hanging stone, and heather, and +big scrogs of birchwood; and away at the far end towards +Balachulish, little wee red soldiers were dipping up and down +over hill and howe, and growing smaller every minute. There was +no cheering now, for I think they had other uses for what breath +was left them; but they still stuck to the trail, and doubtless +thought that we were close in front of them. + +Alan watched them, smiling to himself. + +"Ay," said he, "they'll be gey weary before they've got to the +end of that employ! And so you and me, David, can sit down and +eat a bite, and breathe a bit longer, and take a dram from my +bottle. Then we'll strike for Aucharn, the house of my kinsman, +James of the Glens, where I must get my clothes, and my arms, and +money to carry us along; and then, David, we'll cry, 'Forth, +Fortune!' and take a cast among the heather." + +So we sat again and ate and drank, in a place whence we could see +the sun going down into a field of great, wild, and houseless +mountains, such as I was now condemned to wander in with my +companion. Partly as we so sat, and partly afterwards, on the +way to Aucharn, each of us narrated his adventures; and I shall +here set down so much of Alan's as seems either curious or +needful. + +It appears he ran to the bulwarks as soon as the wave was passed; +saw me, and lost me, and saw me again, as I tumbled in the roost; +and at last had one glimpse of me clinging on the yard. It was +this that put him in some hope I would maybe get to land after +all, and made him leave those clues and messages which had +brought me (for my sins) to that unlucky country of Appin. + +In the meanwhile, those still on the brig had got the skiff +launched, and one or two were on board of her already, when there +came a second wave greater than the first, and heaved the brig +out of her place, and would certainly have sent her to the +bottom, had she not struck and caught on some projection of the +reef. When she had struck first, it had been bows-on, so that +the stern had hitherto been lowest. But now her stern was thrown +in the air, and the bows plunged under the sea; and with that, +the water began to pour into the fore-scuttle like the pouring of +a mill-dam. + +It took the colour out of Alan's face, even to tell what +followed. For there were still two men lying impotent in their +bunks; and these, seeing the water pour in and thinking the ship +had foundered, began to cry out aloud, and that with such +harrowing cries that all who were on deck tumbled one after +another into the skiff and fell to their oars. They were not two +hundred yards away, when there came a third great sea; and at +that the brig lifted clean over the reef; her canvas filled for a +moment, and she seemed to sail in chase of them, but settling all +the while; and presently she drew down and down, as if a hand was +drawing her; and the sea closed over the Covenant of Dysart. + +Never a word they spoke as they pulled ashore, being stunned with +the horror of that screaming; but they had scarce set foot upon +the beach when Hoseason woke up, as if out of a muse, and bade +them lay hands upon Alan. They hung back indeed, having little +taste for the employment; but Hoseason was like a fiend, crying +that Alan was alone, that he had a great sum about him, that he +had been the means of losing the brig and drowning all their +comrades, and that here was both revenge and wealth upon a single +cast. It was seven against one; in that part of the shore there +was no rock that Alan could set his back to; and the sailors +began to spread out and come behind him. + +"And then," said Alan, "the little man with the red head -- I +havenae mind of the name that he is called." + +"Riach," said I. + +"Ay" said Alan, "Riach! Well, it was him that took up the clubs +for me, asked the men if they werenae feared of a judgment, and, +says he 'Dod, I'll put my back to the Hielandman's mysel'.' +That's none such an entirely bad little man, yon little man with +the red head," said Alan. "He has some spunks of decency." + +"Well," said I, "he was kind to me in his way." + +"And so he was to Alan," said he; "and by my troth, I found his +way a very good one! But ye see, David, the loss of the ship and +the cries of these poor lads sat very ill upon the man; and I'm +thinking that would be the cause of it." + +"Well, I would think so," says I; "for he was as keen as any of +the rest at the beginning. But how did Hoseason take it?" + +"It sticks in my mind that he would take it very ill," says Alan. +"But the little man cried to me to run, and indeed I thought it +was a good observe, and ran. The last that I saw they were all +in a knot upon the beach, like folk that were not agreeing very +well together." + +"What do you mean by that?" said I. + +"Well, the fists were going," said Alan; "and I saw one man go +down like a pair of breeks. But I thought it would be better no +to wait. Ye see there's a strip of Campbells in that end of +Mull, which is no good company for a gentleman like me. If it +hadnae been for that I would have waited and looked for ye +mysel', let alone giving a hand to the little man." (It was +droll how Alan dwelt on Mr. Riach's stature, for, to say the +truth, the one was not much smaller than the other.) "So," says +he, continuing, "I set my best foot forward, and whenever I met +in with any one I cried out there was a wreck ashore. Man, they +didnae sto p to fash with me! Ye should have seen them linking +for the beach! And when they got there they found they had had +the pleasure of a run, which is aye good for a Campbell. I'm +thinking it was a judgment on the clan that the brig went down in +the lump and didnae break. But it was a very unlucky thing for +you, that same; for if any wreck had come ashore they would have +hunted high and low, and would soon have found ye." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE HOUSE OF FEAR + +Night fell as we were walking, and the clouds, which had broken +up in the afternoon, settled in and thickened, so that it fell, +for the season of the year, extremely dark. The way we went was +over rough mountainsides; and though Alan pushed on with an +assured manner, I could by no means see how he directed himself. + +At last, about half-past ten of the clock, we came to the top of +a brae, and saw lights below us. It seemed a house door stood +open and let out a beam of fire and candle-light; and all round +the house and steading five or six persons were moving hurriedly +about, each carrying a lighted brand. + +"James must have tint his wits," said Alan. "If this was the +soldiers instead of you and me, he would be in a bonny mess. But +I dare say he'll have a sentry on the road, and he would ken well +enough no soldiers would find the way that we came." + +Hereupon he whistled three times, in a particular manner. It was +strange to see how, at the first sound of it, all the moving +torches came to a stand, as if the bearers were affrighted; and +how, at the third, the bustle began again as before. + +Having thus set folks' minds at rest, we came down the brae, and +were met at the yard gate (for this place was like a well-doing +farm) by a tall, handsome man of more than fifty, who cried out +to Alan in the Gaelic. + +"James Stewart," said Alan, "I will ask ye to speak in Scotch, +for here is a young gentleman with me that has nane of the other. +This is him," he added, putting his arm through mine, "a young +gentleman of the Lowlands, and a laird in his country too, but I +am thinking it will be the better for his health if we give his +name the go-by." + +James of the Glens turned to me for a moment, and greeted me +courteously enough; the next he had turned to Alan. + +"This has been a dreadful accident," he cried. "It will bring +trouble on the country." And he wrung his hands. + +"Hoots!" said Alan, "ye must take the sour with the sweet, man. +Colin Roy is dead, and be thankful for that!" + +"Ay" said James, "and by my troth, I wish he was alive again! +It's all very fine to blow and boast beforehand; but now it's +done, Alan; and who's to bear the wyte[21] of it? The accident +fell out in Appin -- mind ye that, Alan; it's Appin that must +pay; and I am a man that has a family." + +[21]Blame. + + +While this was going on I looked about me at the servants. Some +were on ladders, digging in the thatch of the house or the farm +buildings, from which they brought out guns, swords, and +different weapons of war; others carried them away; and by the +sound of mattock blows from somewhere farther down the brae, I +suppose they buried them. Though they were all so busy, there +prevailed no kind of order in their efforts; men struggled +together for the same gun and ran into each other with their +burning torches; and James was continually turning about from his +talk with Alan, to cry out orders which were apparently never +understood. The faces in the torchlight were like those of +people overborne with hurry and panic; and though none spoke +above his breath, their speech sounded both anxious and angry. + +It was about this time that a lassie came out of the house +carrying a pack or bundle; and it has often made me smile to +think how Alan's instinct awoke at the mere sight of it. + +"What's that the lassie has?" he asked. + +"We're just setting the house in order, Alan," said James, in his +frightened and somewhat fawning way. "They'll search Appin with +candles, and we must have all things straight. We're digging the +bit guns and swords into the moss, ye see; and these, I am +thinking, will be your ain French clothes. We'll be to bury +them, I believe." + +"Bury my French clothes!" cried Alan. "Troth, no!" And he laid +hold upon the packet and retired into the barn to shift himself, +recommending me in the meanwhile to his kinsman. + +James carried me accordingly into the kitchen, and sat down with +me at table, smiling and talking at first in a very hospitable +manner. But presently the gloom returned upon him; he sat +frowning and biting his fingers; only remembered me from time to +time; and then gave me but a word or two and a poor smile, and +back into his private terrors. His wife sat by the fire and +wept, with her face in her hands; his eldest son was crouched +upon the floor, running over a great mass of papers and now and +again setting one alight and burning it to the bitter end; all +the while a servant lass with a red face was rummaging about the +room, in a blind hurry of fear, and whimpering as she went; and +every now and again one of the men would thrust in his face from +the yard, and cry for orders. + +At last James could keep his seat no longer, and begged my +permission to be so unmannerly as walk about. "I am but poor +company altogether, sir," says he, "but I can think of nothing +but this dreadful accident, and the trouble it is like to bring +upon quite innocent persons." + +A little after he observed his son burning a paper which he +thought should have been kept; and at that his excitement burst +out so that it was painful to witness. He struck the lad +repeatedly. + +"Are you gone gyte?"[22] he cried. "Do you wish to hang your +father?" and forgetful of my presence, carried on at him a long +time together in the Gaelic, the young man answering nothing; +only the wife, at the name of hanging, throwing her apron over +her face and sobbing out louder than before. + +[22] Mad. + + +This was all wretched for a stranger like myself to hear and see; +and I was right glad when Alan returned, looking like himself in +his fine French clothes, though (to be sure) they were now grown +almost too battered and withered to deserve the name of fine. I +was then taken out in my turn by another of the sons, and given +that change of clothing of which I had stood so long in need, and +a pair of Highland brogues made of deer-leather, rather strange +at first, but after a little practice very easy to the feet. + +By the time I came back Alan must have told his story; for it +seemed understood that I was to fly with him, and they were all +busy upon our equipment. They gave us each a sword and pistols, +though I professed my inability to use the former; and with +these, and some ammunition, a bag of oatmeal, an iron pan, and a +bottle of right French brandy, we were ready for the heather. +Money, indeed, was lacking. I had about two guineas left; Alan's +belt having been despatched by another hand, that trusty +messenger had no more than seventeen-pence to his whole fortune; +and as for James, it appears he had brought himself so low with +journeys to Edinburgh and legal expenses on behalf of the +tenants, that he could only scrape together +three-and-five-pence-halfpenny, the most of it in coppers. + +"This'll no do," said Alan. + +"Ye must find a safe bit somewhere near by," said James, "and get +word sent to me. Ye see, ye'll have to get this business +prettily off, Alan. This is no time to be stayed for a guinea or +two. They're sure to get wind of ye, sure to seek ye, and by my +way of it, sure to lay on ye the wyte of this day's accident. If +it falls on you, it falls on me that am your near kinsman and +harboured ye while ye were in the country. And if it comes on +me----" he paused, and bit his fingers, with a white face. "It +would be a painful thing for our friends if I was to hang," said +he. + +"It would be an ill day for Appin," says Alan. + +"It's a day that sticks in my throat," said James. "O man, man, +man--man Alan! you and me have spoken like two fools!" he cried, +striking his hand upon the wall so that the house rang again. + +"Well, and that's true, too," said Alan; "and my friend from the +Lowlands here" (nodding at me) "gave me a good word upon that +head, if I would only have listened to him." + +"But see here," said James, returning to his former manner, "if +they lay me by the heels, Alan, it's then that you'll be needing +the money. For with all that I have said and that you have said, +it will look very black against the two of us; do ye mark that? +Well, follow me out, and ye'll, I'll see that I'll have to get a +paper out against ye mysel'; have to offer a reward for ye; ay, +will I! It's a sore thing to do between such near friends; but +if I get the dirdum[23] of this dreadful accident, I'll have to +fend for myself, man. Do ye see that?" + +[23] Blame. + + +He spoke with a pleading earnestness, taking Alan by the breast +of the coat. + +"Ay" said Alan, "I see that." + +"And ye'll have to be clear of the country, Alan -- ay, and clear +of Scotland -- you and your friend from the Lowlands, too. For +I'll have to paper your friend from the Lowlands. Ye see that, +Alan -- say that ye see that!" + +I thought Alan flushed a bit. "This is unco hard on me that +brought him here, James," said he, throwing his head back. "It's +like making me a traitor!" + +"Now, Alan, man!" cried James. "Look things in the face! He'll +be papered anyway; Mungo Campbell'll be sure to paper him; what +matters if I paper him too? And then, Alan, I am a man that has +a family." And then, after a little pause on both sides, "And, +Alan, it'll be a jury of Campbells," said he. + +"There's one thing," said Alan, musingly, "that naebody kens his +name." + +"Nor yet they shallnae, Alan! There's my hand on that," cried +James, for all the world as if he had really known my name and +was foregoing some advantage. "But just the habit he was in, and +what he looked like, and his age, and the like? I couldnae well +do less." + +"I wonder at your father's son," cried Alan, sternly. "Would ye +sell the lad with a gift? Would ye change his clothes and then +betray him?" + +"No, no, Alan," said James. "No, no: the habit he took off -- the +habit Mungo saw him in." But I thought he seemed crestfallen; +indeed, he was clutching at every straw, and all the time, I dare +say, saw the faces of his hereditary foes on the bench, and in +the jury-box, and the gallows in the background. + +"Well, sir" says Alan, turning to me, "what say ye to, that? Ye +are here under the safeguard of my honour; and it's my part to +see nothing done but what shall please you." + +"I have but one word to say," said I; "for to all this dispute I +am a perfect stranger. But the plain common-sense is to set the +blame where it belongs, and that is on the man who fired the +shot. Paper him, as ye call it, set the hunt on him; and let +honest, innocent folk show their faces in safety." But at this +both Alan and James cried out in horror; bidding me hold my +tongue, for that was not to be thought of; and asking me what the +Camerons would think? (which confirmed me, it must have been a +Cameron from Mamore that did the act) and if I did not see that +the lad might be caught? "Ye havenae surely thought of that?" +said they, with such innocent earnestness, that my hands dropped +at my side and I despaired of argument. + +"Very well, then," said I, "paper me, if you please, paper Alan, +paper King George! We're all three innocent, and that seems to +be what's wanted. But at least, sir," said I to James, +recovering from my little fit of annoyance, "I am Alan's friend, +and if I can be helpful to friends of his, I will not stumble at +the risk." + +I thought it best to put a fair face on my consent, for I saw +Alan troubled; and, besides (thinks I to myself), as soon as my +back is turned, they will paper me, as they call it, whether I +consent or not. But in this I saw I was wrong; for I had no +sooner said the words, than Mrs. Stewart leaped out of her chair, +came running over to us, and wept first upon my neck and then on +Alan's, blessing God for our goodness to her family. + +"As for you, Alan, it was no more than your bounden duty," she +said. "But for this lad that has come here and seen us at our +worst, and seen the goodman fleeching like a suitor, him that by +rights should give his commands like any king -- as for you, my +lad," she says, "my heart is wae not to have your name, but I +have your face; and as long as my heart beats under my bosom, I +will keep it, and think of it, and bless it." And with that she +kissed me, and burst once more into such sobbing, that I stood +abashed. + +"Hoot, hoot," said Alan, looking mighty silly. "The day comes +unco soon in this month of July; and to-morrow there'll be a fine +to-do in Appin, a fine riding of dragoons, and crying of +'Cruachan!'[24] and running of red-coats; and it behoves you and +me to the sooner be gone." + +[24] The rallying-word of the Campbells. + + +Thereupon we said farewell, and set out again, bending somewhat +eastwards, in a fine mild dark night, and over much the same +broken country as before. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS + +Sometimes we walked, sometimes ran; and as it drew on to morning, +walked ever the less and ran the more. Though, upon its face, +that country appeared to be a desert, yet there were huts and +houses of the people, of which we must have passed more than +twenty, hidden in quiet places of the hills. When we came to one +of these, Alan would leave me in the way, and go himself and rap +upon the side of the house and speak awhile at the window with +some sleeper awakened. This was to pass the news; which, in that +country, was so much of a duty that Alan must pause to attend to +it even while fleeing for his life; and so well attended to by +others, that in more than half of the houses where we called they +had heard already of the murder. In the others, as well as I +could make out (standing back at a distance and hearing a strange +tongue), the news was received with more of consternation than +surprise. + +For all our hurry, day began to come in while we were still far +from any shelter. It found us in a prodigious valley, strewn +with rocks and where ran a foaming river. Wild mountains stood +around it; there grew there neither grass nor trees; and I have +sometimes thought since then, that it may have been the valley +called Glencoe, where the massacre was in the time of King +William. But for the details of our itinerary, I am all to seek; +our way lying now by short cuts, now by great detours; our pace +being so hurried, our time of journeying usually by night; and +the names of such places as I asked and heard being in the Gaelic +tongue and the more easily forgotten. + +The first peep of morning, then, showed us this horrible place, +and I could see Alan knit his brow. + +"This is no fit place for you and me," he said. "This is a place +they're bound to watch." + +And with that he ran harder than ever down to the water-side, in +a part where the river was split in two among three rocks. It +went through with a horrid thundering that made my belly quake; +and there hung over the lynn a little mist of spray. Alan looked +neither to the right nor to the left, but jumped clean upon the +middle rock and fell there on his hands and knees to check +himself, for that rock was small and he might have pitched over +on the far side. I had scarce time to measure the distance or to +understand the peril before I had followed him, and he had caught +and stopped me. + +So there we stood, side by side upon a small rock slippery with +spray, a far broader leap in front of us, and the river dinning +upon all sides. When I saw where I was, there came on me a deadly +sickness of fear, and I put my hand over my eyes. Alan took me +and shook me; I saw he was speaking, but the roaring of the falls +and the trouble of my mind prevented me from hearing; only I saw +his face was red with anger, and that he stamped upon the rock. +The same look showed me the water raging by, and the mist hanging +in the air: and with that I covered my eyes again and shuddered. + +The next minute Alan had set the brandy bottle to my lips, and +forced me to drink about a gill, which sent the blood into my +head again. Then, putting his hands to his mouth, and his mouth +to my ear, he shouted, "Hang or drown!" and turning his back upon +me, leaped over the farther branch of the stream, and landed +safe. + +I was now alone upon the rock, which gave me the more room; the +brandy was singing in my ears; I had this good example fresh +before me, and just wit enough to see that if I did not leap at +once, I should never leap at all. I bent low on my knees and +flung myself forth, with that kind of anger of despair that has +sometimes stood me in stead of courage. Sure enough, it was but +my hands that reached the full length; these slipped, caught +again, slipped again; and I was sliddering back into the lynn, +when Alan seized me, first by the hair, then by the collar, and +with a great strain dragged me into safety. + +Never a word he said, but set off running again for his life, and +I must stagger to my feet and run after him. I had been weary +before, but now I was sick and bruised, and partly drunken with +the brandy; I kept stumbling as I ran, I had a stitch that came +near to overmaster me; and when at last Alan paused under a great +rock that stood there among a number of others, it was none too +soon for David Balfour. + +A great rock I have said; but by rights it was two rocks leaning +together at the top, both some twenty feet high, and at the first +sight inaccessible. Even Alan (though you may say he had as good +as four hands) failed twice in an attempt to climb them; and it +was only at the third trial, and then by standing on my shoulders +and leaping up with such force as I thought must have broken my +collar-bone, that he secured a lodgment. Once there, he let down +his leathern girdle; and with the aid of that and a pair of +shallow footholds in the rock, I scrambled up beside him. + +Then I saw why we had come there; for the two rocks, being both +somewhat hollow on the top and sloping one to the other, made a +kind of dish or saucer, where as many as three or four men might +have lain hidden. + +All this while Alan had not said a word, and had run and climbed +with such a savage, silent frenzy of hurry, that I knew that he +was in mortal fear of some miscarriage. Even now we were on the +rock he said nothing, nor so much as relaxed the frowning look +upon his face; but clapped flat down, and keeping only one eye +above the edge of our place of shelter scouted all round the +compass. The dawn had come quite, clear; we could see the stony +sides of the valley, and its bottom, which was bestrewed with +rocks, and the river, which went from one side to another, and +made white falls; but nowhere the smoke of a house, nor any +living creature but some eagles screaming round a cliff. + +Then at last Alan smiled. + +"Ay" said he, "now we have a chance;" and then looking at me with +some amusement. "Ye're no very gleg[25] at the jumping," said he. + +[25]Brisk. + + +At this I suppose I coloured with mortification, for he added at +once, "Hoots! small blame to ye! To be feared of a thing and yet +to do it, is what makes the prettiest kind of a man. And then +there was water there, and water's a thing that dauntons even me. +No, no," said Alan, "it's no you that's to blame, it's me." + +I asked him why. + +"Why," said he, "I have proved myself a gomeral this night. For +first of all I take a wrong road, and that in my own country of +Appin; so that the day has caught us where we should never have +been; and thanks to that, we lie here in some danger and mair +discomfort. And next (which is the worst of the two, for a man +that has been so much among the heather as myself) I have come +wanting a water-bottle, and here we lie for a long summer's day +with naething but neat spirit. Ye may think that a small matter; +but before it comes night, David, ye'll give me news of it." + +I was anxious to redeem my character, and offered, if he would +pour out the brandy, to run down and fill the bottle at the +river. + +"I wouldnae waste the good spirit either," says he. "It's been a +good friend to you this night; or in my poor opinion, ye would +still be cocking on yon stone. And what's mair," says he, "ye +may have observed (you that's a man of so much penetration) that +Alan Breck Stewart was perhaps walking quicker than his +ordinar'." + +"You!" I cried, "you were running fit to burst." + +"Was I so?" said he. "Well, then, ye may depend upon it, there +was nae time to be lost. And now here is enough said; gang you +to your sleep, lad, and I'll watch." + +Accordingly, I lay down to sleep; a little peaty earth had +drifted in between the top of the two rocks, and some bracken +grew there, to be a bed to me; the last thing I heard was still +the crying of the eagles. + +I dare say it would be nine in the morning when I was roughly +awakened, and found Alan's hand pressed upon my mouth. + +"Wheesht!" he whispered. "Ye were snoring." + +"Well," said I, surprised at his anxious and dark face, "and why +not?" + +He peered over the edge of the rock, and signed to me to do the +like. + +It was now high day, cloudless, and very hot. The valley was as +clear as in a picture. About half a mile up the water was a camp +of red-coats; a big fire blazed in their midst, at which some +were cooking; and near by, on the top of a rock about as high as +ours, there stood a sentry, with the sun sparkling on his arms. +All the way down along the river-side were posted other sentries; +here near together, there widelier scattered; some planted like +the first, on places of command, some on the ground level and +marching and counter-marching, so as to meet half-way. Higher up +the glen, where the ground was more open, the chain of posts was +continued by horse-soldiers, whom we could see in the distance +riding to and fro. Lower down, the infantry continued; but as +the stream was suddenly swelled by the confluence of a +considerable burn, they were more widely set, and only watched +the fords and stepping-stones. + +I took but one look at them, and ducked again into my place. It +was strange indeed to see this valley, which had lain so solitary +in the hour of dawn, bristling with arms and dotted with the red +coats and breeches. + +"Ye see," said Alan, "this was what I was afraid of, Davie: that +they would watch the burn-side. They began to come in about two +hours ago, and, man! but ye're a grand hand at the sleeping! +We're in a narrow place. If they get up the sides of the hill, +they could easy spy us with a glass; but if they'll only keep in +the foot of the valley, we'll do yet. The posts are thinner down +the water; and, come night, we'll try our hand at getting by +them." + +"And what are we to do till night?" I asked. + +"Lie here," says he, "and birstle." + +That one good Scotch word, "birstle," was indeed the most of the +story of the day that we had now to pass. You are to remember +that we lay on the bare top of a rock, like scones upon a girdle; +the sun beat upon us cruelly; the rock grew so heated, a man +could scarce endure the touch of it; and the little patch of +earth and fern, which kept cooler, was only large enough for one +at a time. We took turn about to lie on the naked rock, which +was indeed like the position of that saint that was martyred on a +gridiron; and it ran in my mind how strange it was, that in the +same climate and at only a few days' distance, I should have +suffered so cruelly, first from cold upon my island and now from +heat upon this rock. + +All the while we had no water, only raw brandy for a drink, which +was worse than nothing; but we kept the bottle as cool as we +could, burying it in the earth, and got some relief by bathing +our breasts and temples. + +The soldiers kept stirring all day in the bottom of the valley, +now changing guard, now in patrolling parties hunting among the +rocks. These lay round in so great a number, that to look for +men among them was like looking for a needle in a bottle of hay; +and being so hopeless a task, it was gone about with the less +care. Yet we could see the soldiers pike their bayonets among +the heather, which sent a cold thrill into my vitals; and they +would sometimes hang about our rock, so that we scarce dared to +breathe. + +It was in this way that I first heard the right English speech; +one fellow as he went by actually clapping his hand upon the +sunny face of the rock on which we lay, and plucking it off again +with an oath. "I tell you it's 'ot," says he; and I was amazed at +the clipping tones and the odd sing-song in which he spoke, and +no less at that strange trick of dropping out the letter "h." To +be sure, I had heard Ransome; but he had taken his ways from all +sorts of people, and spoke so imperfectly at the best, that I set +down the most of it to childishness. My surprise was all the +greater to hear that manner of speaking in the mouth of a grown +man; and indeed I have never grown used to it; nor yet altogether +with the English grammar, as perhaps a very critical eye might +here and there spy out even in these memoirs. + +The tediousness and pain of these hours upon the rock grew only +the greater as the day went on; the rock getting still the hotter +and the sun fiercer. There were giddiness, and sickness, and +sharp pangs like rheumatism, to be supported. I minded then, and +have often minded since, on the lines in our Scotch psalm: -- + + "The moon by night thee shall not smite, + Nor yet the sun by day;" + +and indeed it was only by God's blessing that we were neither of +us sun-smitten. + +At last, about two, it was beyond men's bearing, and there was +now temptation to resist, as well as pain to thole. For the sun +being now got a little into the west, there came a patch of shade +on the east side of our rock, which was the side sheltered from +the soldiers. + +"As well one death as another," said Alan, and slipped over the +edge and dropped on the ground on the shadowy side. + +I followed him at once, and instantly fell all my length, so weak +was I and so giddy with that long exposure. Here, then, we lay +for an hour or two, aching from head to foot, as weak as water, +and lying quite naked to the eye of any soldier who should have +strolled that way. None came, however, all passing by on the +other side; so that our rock continued to be our shield even in +this new position. + +Presently we began again to get a little strength; and as the +soldiers were now lying closer along the river-side, Alan +proposed that we should try a start. I was by this time afraid +of but one thing in the world; and that was to be set back upon +the rock; anything else was welcome to me; so we got ourselves at +once in marching order, and began to slip from rock to rock one +after the other, now crawling flat on our bellies in the shade, +now making a run for it, heart in mouth. + +The soldiers, having searched this side of the valley after a +fashion, and being perhaps somewhat sleepy with the sultriness of +the afternoon, had now laid by much of their vigilance, and stood +dozing at their posts or only kept a look-out along the banks of +the river; so that in this way, keeping down the valley and at +the same time towards the mountains, we drew steadily away from +their neighbourhood. But the business was the most wearing I had +ever taken part in. A man had need of a hundred eyes in every +part of him, to keep concealed in that uneven country and within +cry of so many and scattered sentries. When we must pass an open +place, quickness was not all, but a swift judgment not only of +the lie of the whole country, but of the solidity of every stone +on which we must set foot; for the afternoon was now fallen so +breathless that the rolling of a pebble sounded abroad like a +pistol shot, and would start the echo calling among the hills and +cliffs. + +By sundown we had made some distance, even by our slow rate of +progress, though to be sure the sentry on the rock was still +plainly in our view. But now we came on something that put all +fears out of season; and that was a deep rushing burn, that tore +down, in that part, to join the glen river. At the sight of this +we cast ourselves on the ground and plunged head and shoulders in +the water; and I cannot tell which was the more pleasant, the +great shock as the cool stream went over us, or the greed with +which we drank of it. + +We lay there (for the banks hid us), drank again and again, +bathed our chests, let our wrists trail in the running water till +they ached with the chill; and at last, being wonderfullv +renewed, we got out the meal-bag and made drammach in the iron +pan. This, though it is but cold water mingled with oatmeal, yet +makes a good enough dish for a hungry man; and where there are no +means of making fire, or (as in our case) good reason for not +making one, it is the chief stand-by of those who have taken to +the heather. + +As soon as the shadow of the night had fallen, we set forth +again, at first with the same caution, but presently with more +boldness, standing our full height and stepping out at a good +pace of walking. The way was very intricate, lying up the steep +sides of mountains and along the brows of cliffs; clouds had come +in with the sunset, and the night was dark and cool; so that I +walked without much fatigue, but in continual fear of falling and +rolling down the mountains, and with no guess at our direction. + +The moon rose at last and found us still on the road; it was in +its last quarter, and was long beset with clouds; but after +awhile shone out and showed me many dark heads of mountains, and +was reflected far underneath us on the narrow arm of a sea-loch. + +At this sight we both paused: I struck with wonder to find myself +so high and walking (as it seemed to me) upon clouds; Alan to +make sure of his direction. + +Seemingly he was well pleased, and he must certainly have judged +us out of ear-shot of all our enemies; for throughout the rest of +our night-march he beguiled the way with whistling of many tunes, +warlike, merry, plaintive; reel tunes that made the foot go +faster; tunes of my own south country that made me fain to be +home from my adventures; and all these, on the great, dark, +desert mountains, making company upon the way. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH + +Early as day comes in the beginning of July, it was still dark +when we reached our destination, a cleft in the head of a great +mountain, with a water running through the midst, and upon the +one hand a shallow cave in a rock. Birches grew there in a thin, +pretty wood, which a little farther on was changed into a wood of +pines. The burn was full of trout; the wood of cushat-doves; on +the open side of the mountain beyond, whaups would be always +whistling, and cuckoos were plentiful. From the mouth of the +cleft we looked down upon a part of Mamore, and on the sea-loch +that divides that country from Appin; and this from so great a +height as made it my continual wonder and pleasure to sit and +behold them. + +The name of the cleft was the Heugh of Corrynakiegh; and although +from its height and being so near upon the sea, it was often +beset with clouds, yet it was on the whole a pleasant place, and +the five days we lived in it went happily. + +We slept in the cave, making our bed of heather bushes which we +cut for that purpose, and covering ourselves with Alan's +great-coat. There was a low concealed place, in a turning of the +glen, where we were so bold as to make fire: so that we could +warm ourselves when the clouds set in, and cook hot porridge, and +grill the little trouts that we caught with our hands under the +stones and overhanging banks of the burn. This was indeed our +chief pleasure and business; and not only to save our meal +against worse times, but with a rivalry that much amused us, we +spent a great part of our days at the water-side, stripped to the +waist and groping about or (as they say) guddling for these fish. +The largest we got might have been a quarter of a pound; but they +were of good flesh and flavour, and when broiled upon the coals, +lacked only a little salt to be delicious. + +In any by-time Alan must teach me to use my sword, for my +ignorance had much distressed him; and I think besides, as I had +sometimes the upper-hand of him in the fishing, he was not sorry +to turn to an exercise where he had so much the upper-hand of me. +He made it somewhat more of a pain than need have been, for he +stormed at me all through the lessons in a very violent manner of +scolding, and would push me so close that I made sure he must run +me through the body. I was often tempted to turn tail, but held +my ground for all that, and got some profit of my lessons; if it +was but to stand on guard with an assured countenance, which is +often all that is required. So, though I could never in the +least please my master, I was not altogether displeased with +myself. + +In the meanwhile, you are not to suppose that we neglected our +chief business, which was to get away. + +"It will be many a long day," Alan said to me on our first +morning, "before the red-coats think upon seeking Corrynakiegh; +so now we must get word sent to James, and he must find the +siller for us." + +"And how shall we send that word?" says I. "We are here in a +desert place, which yet we dare not leave; and unless ye get the +fowls of the air to be your messengers, I see not what we shall +be able to do." + +"Ay?" said Alan. "Ye're a man of small contrivance, David." + +Thereupon he fell in a muse, looking in the embers of the fire; +and presently, getting a piece of wood, he fashioned it in a +cross, the four ends of which he blackened on the coals. Then he +looked at me a little shyly. + +"Could ye lend me my button?" says he. "It seems a strange thing +to ask a gift again, but I own I am laith to cut another." + +I gave him the button; whereupon he strung it on a strip of his +great-coat which he had used to bind the cross; and tying in a +little sprig of birch and another of fir, he looked upon his work +with satisfaction. + +"Now," said he, "there is a little clachan" (what is called a +hamlet in the English) "not very far from Corrynakiegh, and it +has the name of Koalisnacoan. There there are living many +friends of mine whom I could trust with my life, and some that I +am no just so sure of. Ye see, David, there will be money set +upon our heads; James himsel' is to set money on them; and as for +the Campbells, they would never spare siller where there was a +Stewart to be hurt. If it was otherwise, I would go down to +Koalisnacoan whatever, and trust my life into these people's +hands as lightly as I would trust another with my glove." + +"But being so?" said I. + +"Being so," said he, "I would as lief they didnae see me. +There's bad folk everywhere, and what's far worse, weak ones. So +when it comes dark again, I will steal down into that clachan, +and set this that I have been making in the window of a good +friend of mine, John Breck Maccoll, a bouman[26] of Appin's." + +[26]A bouman is a tenant who takes stock from the landlord and +shares with him the increase. + + +"With all my heart," says I; "and if he finds it, what is he to +think?" + +"Well," says Alan, "I wish he was a man of more penetration, for +by my troth I am afraid he will make little enough of it! But +this is what I have in my mind. This cross is something in the +nature of the crosstarrie, or fiery cross, which is the signal of +gathering in our clans; yet he will know well enough the clan is +not to rise, for there it is standing in his window, and no word +with it. So he will say to himsel', THE CLAN IS NOT TO RISE, BUT +THERE IS SOMETHING. Then he will see my button, and that was +Duncan Stewart's. And then he will say to himsel', THE SON OF +DUNCAN IS IN THE HEATHER, AND HAS NEED OF ME." + +"Well," said I, "it may be. But even supposing so, there is a +good deal of heather between here and the Forth." + +"And that is a very true word," says Alan. "But then John Breck +will see the sprig of birch and the sprig of pine; and he will +say to himsel' (if he is a man of any penetration at all, which I +misdoubt), ALAN WILL BE LYING IN A WOOD WHICH IS BOTH OF PINES +AND BIRCHES. Then he will think to himsel', THAT IS NOT SO VERY +RIFE HEREABOUT; and then he will come and give us a look up in +Corrynakiegh. And if he does not, David, the devil may fly away +with him, for what I care; for he will no be worth the salt to +his porridge." + +"Eh, man," said I, drolling with him a little, "you're very +ingenious! But would it not be simpler for you to write him a few +words in black and white?" + +"And that is an excellent observe, Mr. Balfour of Shaws," says +Alan, drolling with me; "and it would certainly be much simpler +for me to write to him, but it would be a sore job for John Breck +to read it. He would have to go to the school for two-three +years; and it's possible we might be wearied waiting on him." + +So that night Alan carried down his fiery cross and set it in the +bouman's window. He was troubled when he came back; for the dogs +had barked and the folk run out from their houses; and he thought +he had heard a clatter of arms and seen a red-coat come to one of +the doors. On all accounts we lay the next day in the borders of +the wood and kept a close look-out, so that if it was John Breck +that came we might be ready to guide him, and if it was the +red-coats we should have time to get away. + +About noon a man was to be spied, straggling up the open side of +the mountain in the sun, and looking round him as he came, from +under his hand. No sooner had Alan seen him than he whistled; +the man turned and came a little towards us: then Alan would give +another "peep!" and the man would come still nearer; and so by +the sound of whistling, he was guided to the spot where we lay. + +He was a ragged, wild, bearded man, about forty, grossly +disfigured with the small pox, and looked both dull and savage. +Although his English was very bad and broken, yet Alan (according +to his very handsome use, whenever I was by) would suffer him to +speak no Gaelic. Perhaps the strange language made him appear +more backward than he really was; but I thought he had little +good-will to serve us, and what he had was the child of terror. + +Alan would have had him carry a message to James; but the bouman +would hear of no message. "She was forget it," he said in his +screaming voice; and would either have a letter or wash his hands +of us. + +I thought Alan would be gravelled at that, for we lacked the +means of writing in that desert. + +But he was a man of more resources than I knew; searched the wood +until he found the quill of a cushat-dove, which he shaped into a +pen; made himself a kind of ink with gunpowder from his horn and +water from the running stream; and tearing a corner from his +French military commission (which he carried in his pocket, like +a talisman to keep him from the gallows), he sat down and wrote +as follows: + + +"DEAR KINSMAN, -- Please send the money by the bearer to the +place he kens of. + "Your affectionate cousin, + "A. S." + + +This he intrusted to the bouman, who promised to make what manner +of speed he best could, and carried it off with him down the +hill. + +He was three full days gone, but about five in the evening of the +third, we heard a whistling in the wood, which Alan answered; and +presently the bouman came up the water-side, looking for us, +right and left. He seemed less sulky than before, and indeed he +was no doubt well pleased to have got to the end of such a +dangerous commission. + +He gave us the news of the country; that it was alive with +red-coats; that arms were being found, and poor folk brought in +trouble daily; and that James and some of his servants were +already clapped in prison at Fort William, under strong suspicion +of complicity. It seemed it was noised on all sides that Alan +Breck had fired the shot; and there was a bill issued for both +him and me, with one hundred pounds reward. + +This was all as bad as could be; and the little note the bouman +had carried us from Mrs. Stewart was of a miserable sadness. In +it she besought Alan not to let himself be captured, assuring +him, if he fell in the hands of the troops, both he and James +were no better than dead men. The money she had sent was all +that she could beg or borrow, and she prayed heaven we could be +doing with it. Lastly, she said, she enclosed us one of the +bills in which we were described. + +This we looked upon with great curiosity and not a little fear, +partly as a man may look in a mirror, partly as he might look +into the barrel of an enemy's gun to judge if it be truly aimed. +Alan was advertised as "a small, pock-marked, active man of +thirty-five or thereby, dressed in a feathered hat, a French +side-coat of blue with silver buttons, and lace a great deal +tarnished, a red waistcoat and breeches of black, shag;" and I as +"a tall strong lad of about eighteen, wearing an old blue coat, +very ragged, an old Highland bonnet, a long homespun waistcoat, +blue breeches; his legs bare, low-country shoes, wanting the +toes; speaks like a Lowlander, and has no beard." + +Alan was well enough pleased to see his finery so fully +remembered and set down; only when he came to the word tarnish, +he looked upon his lace like one a little mortified. As for +myself, I thought I cut a miserable figure in the bill; and yet +was well enough pleased too, for since I had changed these rags, +the description had ceased to be a danger and become a source of +safety. + +"Alan," said I, "you should change your clothes." + +"Na, troth!" said Alan, "I have nae others. A fine sight I would +be, if I went back to France in a bonnet!" + +This put a second reflection in my mind: that if I were to +separate from Alan and his tell-tale clothes I should be safe +against arrest, and might go openly about my business. Nor was +this all; for suppose I was arrested when I was alone, there was +little against me; but suppose I was taken in company with the +reputed murderer, my case would begin to be grave. For +generosity's sake I dare not speak my mind upon this head; but I +thought of it none the less. + +I thought of it all the more, too, when the bouman brought out a +green purse with four guineas in gold, and the best part of +another in small change. True, it was more than I had. But then +Alan, with less than five guineas, had to get as far as France; +I, with my less than two, not beyond Queensferry; so that taking +things in their proportion, Alan's society was not only a peril +to my life, but a burden on my purse. + +But there was no thought of the sort in the honest head of my +companion. He believed he was serving, helping, and protecting +me. And what could I do but hold my peace, and chafe, and take +my chance of it? + +"It's little enough," said Alan, putting the purse in his pocket, +"but it'll do my business. And now, John Breck, if ye will hand +me over my button, this gentleman and me will be for taking the +road." + +But the bouman, after feeling about in a hairy purse that hung in +front of him in the Highland manner (though he wore otherwise the +Lowland habit, with sea-trousers), began to roll his eyes +strangely, and at last said, "Her nainsel will loss it," meaning +he thought he had lost it. + +"What!" cried Alan, "you will lose my button, that was my +father's before me? Now I will tell you what is in my mind, John +Breck: it is in my mind this is the worst day's work that ever ye +did since ye was born." + +And as Alan spoke, he set his hands on his knees and looked at +the bouman with a smiling mouth, and that dancing light in his +eyes that meant mischief to his enemies. + +Perhaps the bouman was honest enough; perhaps he had meant to +cheat and then, finding himself alone with two of us in a desert +place, cast back to honesty as being safer; at least, and all at +once, he seemed to find that button and handed it to Alan. + +"Well, and it is a good thing for the honour of the Maccolls," +said Alan, and then to me, "Here is my button back again, and I +thank you for parting with it, which is of a piece with all your +friendships to me." Then he took the warmest parting of the +bouman. "For," says he, "ye have done very well by me, and set +your neck at a venture, and I will always give you the name of a +good man." + +Lastly, the bouman took himself off by one way; and Alan I +(getting our chattels together) struck into another to resume our +flight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR + +Some seven hours' incessant, hard travelling brought us early in +the morning to the end of a range of mountains. In front of us +there lay a piece of low, broken, desert land, which we must now +cross. The sun was not long up, and shone straight in our eyes; +a little, thin mist went up from the face of the moorland like a +smoke; so that (as Alan said) there might have been twenty +squadron of dragoons there and we none the wiser. + +We sat down, therefore, in a howe of the hill-side till the mist +should have risen, and made ourselves a dish of drammach, and +held a council of war. + +"David," said Alan, "this is the kittle bit. Shall we lie here +till it comes night, or shall we risk it, and stave on ahead?" + +"Well," said I, "I am tired indeed, but I could walk as far +again, if that was all." + +"Ay, but it isnae," said Alan, "nor yet the half. This is how we +stand: Appin's fair death to us. To the south it's all +Campbells, and no to be thought of. To the north; well, there's +no muckle to be gained by going north; neither for you, that +wants to get to Queensferry, nor yet for me, that wants to get to +France. Well, then, we'll can strike east." + +"East be it!" says I, quite cheerily; but I was thinking" in to +myself: "O, man, if you would only take one point of the compass +and let me take any other, it would be the best for both of us." + +"Well, then, east, ye see, we have the muirs," said Alan. "Once +there, David, it's mere pitch-and-toss. Out on yon bald, naked, +flat place, where can a body turn to? Let the red-coats come over +a hill, they can spy you miles away; and the sorrow's in their +horses' heels, they would soon ride you down. It's no good +place, David; and I'm free to say, it's worse by daylight than by +dark." + +"Alan," said I, "hear my way of it. Appin's death for us; we +have none too much money, nor yet meal; the longer they seek, the +nearer they may guess where we are; it's all a risk; and I give +my word to go ahead until we drop." + +Alan was delighted. "There are whiles," said he, "when ye are +altogether too canny and Whiggish to be company for a gentleman +like me; but there come other whiles when ye show yoursel' a +mettle spark; and it's then, David, that I love ye like a +brother." + +The mist rose and died away, and showed us that country lying as +waste as the sea; only the moorfowl and the pewees crying upon +it, and far over to the east, a herd of deer, moving like dots. +Much of it was red with heather; much of the rest broken up with +bogs and hags and peaty pools; some had been burnt black in a +heath fire; and in another place there was quite a forest of dead +firs, standing like skeletons. A wearier-looking desert man +never saw; but at least it was clear of troops, which was our +point. + +We went down accordingly into the waste, and began to make our +toilsome and devious travel towards the eastern verge. There +were the tops of mountains all round (you are to remember) from +whence we might be spied at any moment; so it behoved us to keep +in the hollow parts of the moor, and when these turned aside from +our direction to move upon its naked face with infinite care. +Sometimes, for half an hour together, we must crawl from one +heather bush to another, as hunters do when they are hard upon +the deer. It was a clear day again, with a blazing sun; the +water in the brandy bottle was soon gone; and altogether, if I +had guessed what it would be to crawl half the time upon my belly +and to walk much of the rest stooping nearly to the knees, I +should certainly have held back from such a killing enterprise. + +Toiling and resting and toiling again, we wore away the morning; +and about noon lay down in a thick bush of heather to sleep. +Alan took the first watch; and it seemed to me I had scarce +closed my eyes before I was shaken up to take the second. We had +no clock to go by; and Alan stuck a sprig of heath in the ground +to serve instead; so that as soon as the shadow of the bush +should fall so far to the east, I might know to rouse him. But I +was by this time so weary that I could have slept twelve hours at +a stretch; I had the taste of sleep in my throat; my joints slept +even when my mind was waking; the hot smell of the heather, and +the drone of the wild bees, were like possets to me; and every +now and again I would give a jump and find I had been dozing. + +The last time I woke I seemed to come back from farther away, and +thought the sun had taken a great start in the heavens. I looked +at the sprig of heath, and at that I could have cried aloud: for +I saw I had betrayed my trust. My head was nearly turned with +fear and shame; and at what I saw, when I looked out around me on +the moor, my heart was like dying in my body. For sure enough, a +body of horse-soldiers had come down during my sleep, and were +drawing near to us from the south-east, spread out in the shape +of a fan and riding their horses to and fro in the deep parts of +the heather. + +When I waked Alan, he glanced first at the soldiers, then at the +mark and the position of the sun, and knitted his brows with a +sudden, quick look, both ugly and anxious, which was all the +reproach I had of him. + +"What are we to do now?" I asked. + +"We'll have to play at being hares," said he. "Do ye see yon +mountain?" pointing to one on the north-eastern sky. + +"Ay," said I. + +"Well, then," says he, "let us strike for that. Its name is Ben +Alder. it is a wild, desert mountain full of hills and hollows, +and if we can win to it before the morn, we may do yet." + +"But, Alan," cried I, "that will take us across the very coming +of the soldiers!" + +"I ken that fine," said he; "but if we are driven back on Appin, +we are two dead men. So now, David man, be brisk!" + +With that he began to run forward on his hands and knees with an +incredible quickness, as though it were his natural way of going. +All the time, too, he kept winding in and out in the lower parts +of the moorland where we were the best concealed. Some of these +had been burned or at least scathed with fire; and there rose in +our faces (which were close to the ground) a blinding, choking +dust as fine as smoke. The water was long out; and this posture +of running on the hands and knees brings an overmastering +weakness and weariness, so that the joints ache and the wrists +faint under your weight. + +Now and then, indeed, where was a big bush of heather, we lay +awhile, and panted, and putting aside the leaves, looked back at +the dragoons. They had not spied us, for they held straight on; +a half-troop, I think, covering about two miles of ground, and +beating it mighty thoroughly as they went. I had awakened just +in time; a little later, and we must have fled in front of them, +instead of escaping on one side. Even as it was, the least +misfortune might betray us; and now and again, when a grouse rose +out of the heather with a clap of wings, we lay as still as the +dead and were afraid to breathe. + +The aching and faintness of my body, the labouring of my heart, +the soreness of my hands, and the smarting of my throat and eyes +in the continual smoke of dust and ashes, had soon grown to be so +unbearable that I would gladly have given up. Nothing but the +fear of Alan lent me enough of a false kind of courage to +continue. As for himself (and you are to bear in mind that he +was cumbered with a great-coat) he had first turned crimson, but +as time went on the redness began to be mingled with patches of +white; his breath cried and whistled as it came; and his voice, +when he whispered his observations in my ear during our halts, +sounded like nothing human. Yet he seemed in no way dashed in +spirits, nor did he at all abate in his activity, so that I was +driven, to marvel at the man's endurance. + +At length, in the first gloaming of the night, we heard a trumpet +sound, and looking back from among the heather, saw the troop +beginning to collect. A little after, they had built a fire and +camped for the night, about the middle of the waste. + +At this I begged and besought that we might lie down and sleep. + +"There shall be no sleep the night!" said Alan. "From now on, +these weary dragoons of yours will keep the crown of the +muirland, and none will get out of Appin but winged fowls. We +got through in the nick of time, and shall we jeopard what we've +gained? Na, na, when the day comes, it shall find you and me in +a fast place on Ben Alder." + +"Alan," I said, "it's not the want of will: it's the strength +that I want. If I could, I would; but as sure as I'm alive I +cannot." + +"Very well, then," said Alan. "I'll carry ye." + +I looked to see if he were jesting; but no, the little man was in +dead earnest; and the sight of so much resolution shamed me. + +"Lead away!" said I. "I'll follow." + +He gave me one look as much as to say, "Well done, David!" and +off he set again at his top speed. + +It grew cooler and even a little darker (but not much) with the +coming of the night. The sky was cloudless; it was still early +in July, and pretty far north; in the darkest part of that night, +you would have needed pretty good eyes to read, but for all that, +I have often seen it darker in a winter mid-day. Heavy dew fell +and drenched the moor like rain; and this refreshed me for a +while. When we stopped to breathe, and I had time to see all +about me, the clearness and sweetness of the night, the shapes of +the hills like things asleep, and the fire dwindling away behind +us, like a bright spot in the midst of the moor, anger would come +upon me in a clap that I must still drag myself in agony and eat +the dust like a worm. + +By what I have read in books, I think few that have held a pen +were ever really wearied, or they would write of it more +strongly. I had no care of my life, neither past nor future, and +I scarce remembered there was such a lad as David Balfour. I did +not think of myself, but just of each fresh step which I was sure +would be my last, with despair -- and of Alan, who was the cause +of it, with hatred. Alan was in the right trade as a soldier; +this is the officer's part to make men continue to do things, +they know not wherefore, and when, if the choice was offered, +they would lie down where they were and be killed. And I dare +say I would have made a good enough private; for in these last +hours it never occurred to me that I had any choice but just to +obey as long as I was able, and die obeying. + +Day began to come in, after years, I thought; and by that time we +were past the greatest danger, and could walk upon our feet like +men, instead of crawling like brutes. But, dear heart have +mercy! what a pair we must have made, going double like old +grandfathers, stumbling like babes, and as white as dead folk. +Never a word passed between us; each set his mouth and kept his +eyes in front of him, and lifted up his foot and set it down +again, like people lifting weights at a country play;[27] all the +while, with the moorfowl crying "peep!" in the heather, and the +light coming slowly clearer in the east. + +[27] Village fair. + + +I say Alan did as I did. Not that ever I looked at him, for I +had enough ado to keep my feet; but because it is plain he must +have been as stupid with weariness as myself, and looked as +little where we were going, or we should not have walked into an +ambush like blind men. + +It fell in this way. We were going down a heathery brae, Alan +leading and I following a pace or two behind, like a fiddler and +his wife; when upon a sudden the heather gave a rustle, three or +four ragged men leaped out, and the next moment we were lying on +our backs, each with a dirk at his throat. + +I don't think I cared; the pain of this rough handling was quite +swallowed up by the pains of which I was already full; and I was +too glad to have stopped walking to mind about a dirk. I lay +looking up in the face of the man that held me; and I mind his +face was black with the sun, and his eyes very light, but I was +not afraid of him. I heard Alan and another whispering in the +Gaelic; and what they said was all one to me. + +Then the dirks were put up, our weapons were taken away, and we +were set face to face, sitting in the heather. + +"They are Cluny's men," said Alan. "We couldnae have fallen +better. We're just to bide here with these, which are his +out-sentries, till they can get word to the chief of my arrival." + +Now Cluny Macpherson, the chief of the clan Vourich, had been one +of the leaders of the great rebellion six years before; there was +a price on his life; and I had supposed him long ago in France, +with the rest of the heads of that desperate party. Even tired +as I was, the surprise of what I heard half wakened me. + +"What," I cried, "is Cluny still here?" + +"Ay, is he so!" said Alan. "Still in his own country and kept by +his own clan. King George can do no more." + +I think I would have asked farther, but Alan gave me the put-off. +"I am rather wearied," he said, "and I would like fine to get a +sleep." And without more words, he rolled on his face in a deep +heather bush, and seemed to sleep at once. + +There was no such thing possible for me. You have heard +grasshoppers whirring in the grass in the summer time? Well, I +had no sooner closed my eyes, than my body, and above all my +head, belly, and wrists, seemed to be filled with whirring +grasshoppers; and I must open my eyes again at once, and tumble +and toss, and sit up and lie down; and look at the sky which +dazzled me, or at Cluny's wild and dirty sentries, peering out +over the top of the brae and chattering to each other in the +Gaelic. + +That was all the rest I had, until the messenger returned; when, +as it appeared that Cluny would be glad to receive us, we must +get once more upon our feet and set forward. Alan was in +excellent good spirits, much refreshed by his sleep, very hungry, +and looking pleasantly forward to a dram and a dish of hot +collops, of which, it seems, the messenger had brought him word. +For my part, it made me sick to hear of eating. I had been +dead-heavy before, and now I felt a kind of dreadful lightness, +which would not suffer me to walk. I drifted like a gossamer; +the ground seemed to me a cloud, the hills a feather-weight, the +air to have a current, like a running burn, which carried me to +and fro. With all that, a sort of horror of despair sat on my +mind, so that I could have wept at my own helplessness. + +I saw Alan knitting his brows at me, and supposed it was in +anger; and that gave me a pang of light-headed fear, like what a +child may have. I remember, too, that I was smiling, and could +not stop smiling, hard as I tried; for I thought it was out of +place at such a time. But my good companion had nothing in his +mind but kindness; and the next moment, two of the gillies had me +by the arms, and I began to be carried forward with great +swiftness (or so it appeared to me, although I dare say it was +slowly enough in truth), through a labyrinth of dreary glens and +hollows and into the heart of that dismal mountain of Ben Alder. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +CLUNY'S CAGE + +We came at last to the foot of an exceeding steep wood, which +scrambled up a craggy hillside, and was crowned by a naked +precipice. + +"It's here," said one of the guides, and we struck up hill. + +The trees clung upon the slope, like sailors on the shrouds of a +ship, and their trunks were like the rounds of a ladder, by which +we mounted. + +Quite at the top, and just before the rocky face of the cliff +sprang above the foliage, we found that strange house which was +known in the country as "Cluny's Cage." The trunks of several +trees had been wattled across, the intervals strengthened with +stakes, and the ground behind this barricade levelled up with +earth to make the floor. A tree, which grew out from the +hillside, was the living centre-beam of the roof. The walls were +of wattle and covered with moss. The whole house had something +of an egg shape; and it half hung, half stood in that steep, +hillside thicket, like a wasp's nest in a green hawthorn. + +Within, it was large enough to shelter five or six persons with +some comfort. A projection of the cliff had been cunningly +employed to be the fireplace; and the smoke rising against the +face of the rock, and being not dissimilar in colour, readily +escaped notice from below. + +This was but one of Cluny's hiding-places; he had caves, besides, +and underground chambers in several parts of his country; and +following the reports of his scouts, he moved from one to another +as the soldiers drew near or moved away. By this manner of +living, and thanks to the affection of his clan, he had not only +stayed all this time in safety, while so many others had fled or +been taken and slain: but stayed four or five years longer, and +only went to France at last by the express command of his master. +There he soon died; and it is strange to reflect that he may have +regretted his Cage upon Ben Alder. + +When we came to the door he was seated by his rock chimney, +watching a gillie about some cookery. He was mighty plainly +habited, with a knitted nightcap drawn over his ears, and smoked +a foul cutty pipe. For all that he had the manners of a king, +and it was quite a sight to see him rise out of his place to +welcome us. + +"Well, Mr. Stewart, come awa', sir!" said he, "and bring in your +friend that as yet I dinna ken the name of." + +"And how is yourself, Cluny?" said Alan. "I hope ye do brawly, +sir. And I am proud to see ye, and to present to ye my friend +the Laird of Shaws, Mr. David Balfour." + +Alan never referred to my estate without a touch of a sneer, when +we were alone; but with strangers, he rang the words out like a +herald. + +"Step in by, the both of ye, gentlemen," says Cluny. "I make ye +welcome to my house, which is a queer, rude place for certain, +but one where I have entertained a royal personage, Mr. Stewart +-- ye doubtless ken the personage I have in my eye. We'll take a +dram for luck, and as soon as this handless man of mine has the +collops ready, we'll dine and take a hand at the cartes as +gentlemen should. My life is a bit driegh," says he, pouring out +the brandy;" I see little company, and sit and twirl my thumbs, +and mind upon a great day that is gone by, and weary for another +great day that we all hope will be upon the road. And so here's +a toast to ye: The Restoration!" + +Thereupon we all touched glasses and drank. I am sure I wished +no ill to King George; and if he had been there himself in proper +person, it's like he would have done as I did. No sooner had I +taken out the drain than I felt hugely better, and could look on +and listen, still a little mistily perhaps, but no longer with +the same groundless horror and distress of mind. + +It was certainly a strange place, and we had a strange host. In +his long hiding, Cluny had grown to have all manner of precise +habits, like those of an old maid. He had a particular place, +where no one else must sit; the Cage was arranged in a particular +way, which none must disturb; cookery was one of his chief +fancies, and even while he was greeting us in, he kept an eye to +the collops. + +It appears, he sometimes visited or received visits from his wife +and one or two of his nearest friends, under the cover of night; +but for the more part lived quite alone, and communicated only +with his sentinels and the gillies that waited on him in the +Cage. The first thing in the morning, one of them, who was a +barber, came and shaved him, and gave him the news of the +country, of which he was immoderately greedy. There was no end +to his questions; he put them as earnestly as a child; and at +some of the answers, laughed out of all bounds of reason, and +would break out again laughing at the mere memory, hours after +the barber was gone. + +To be sure, there might have been a purpose in his questions; for +though he was thus sequestered, and like the other landed +gentlemen of Scotland, stripped by the late Act of Parliament of +legal powers, he still exercised a patriarchal justice in his +clan. Disputes were brought to him in his hiding-hole to be +decided; and the men of his country, who would have snapped their +fingers at the Court of Session, laid aside revenge and paid down +money at the bare word of this forfeited and hunted outlaw. When +he was angered, which was often enough, he gave his commands and +breathed threats of punishment like any, king; and his gillies +trembled and crouched away from him like children before a hasty +father. With each of them, as he entered, he ceremoniously shook +hands, both parties touching their bonnets at the same time in a +military manner. Altogether, I had a fair chance to see some of +the inner workings of a Highland clan; and this with a +proscribed, fugitive chief; his country conquered; the troops +riding upon all sides in quest of him, sometimes within a mile of +where he lay; and when the least of the ragged fellows whom he +rated and threatened, could have made a fortune by betraying him. + +On that first day, as soon as the collops were ready, Cluny gave +them with his own hand a squeeze of a lemon (for he was well +supplied with luxuries) and bade us draw in to our meal. + +"They," said he, meaning the collops, "are such as I gave his +Royal Highness in this very house; bating the lemon juice, for at +that time we were glad to get the meat and never fashed for +kitchen.[28] Indeed, there were mair dragoons than lemons in my +country in the year forty-six." + +[28]Condiment. + + +I do not know if the collops were truly very good, but my heart +rose against the sight of them, and I could eat but little. All +the while Cluny entertained us with stories of Prince Charlie's +stay in the Cage, giving us the very words of the speakers, and +rising from his place to show us where they stood. By these, I +gathered the Prince was a gracious, spirited boy, like the son of +a race of polite kings, but not so wise as Solomon. I gathered, +too, that while he was in the Cage, he was often drunk; so the +fault that has since, by all accounts, made such a wreck of him, +had even then begun to show itself. + +We were no sooner done eating than Cluny brought out an old, +thumbed, greasy pack of cards, such as you may find in a mean +inn; and his eyes brightened in his face as he proposed that we +should fall to playing. + +Now this was one of the things I had been brought up to eschew +like disgrace; it being held by my father neither the part of a +Christian nor yet of a gentleman to set his own livelihood and +fish for that of others, on the cast of painted pasteboard. To +be sure, I might have pleaded my fatigue, which was excuse +enough; but I thought it behoved that I should bear a testimony. +I must have got very red in the face, but I spoke steadily, and +told them I had no call to be a judge of others, but for my own +part, it was a matter in which I had no clearness. + +Cluny stopped mingling the cards. "What in deil's name is this?" +says he. "What kind of Whiggish, canting talk is this, for the +house of Cluny Macpherson?" + +"I will put my hand in the fire for Mr. Balfour," says Alan. "He +is an honest and a mettle gentleman, and I would have ye bear in +mind who says it. I bear a king's name," says he, cocking his +hat; "and I and any that I call friend are company for the best. +But the gentleman is tired, and should sleep; if he has no mind +to the cartes, it will never hinder you and me. And I'm fit and +willing, sir, to play ye any game that ye can name." + +"Sir," says Cluny, "in this poor house of mine I would have you +to ken that any gentleman may follow his pleasure. If your +friend would like to stand on his head, he is welcome. And if +either he, or you, or any other man, is not preceesely satisfied, +I will be proud to step outside with him." + +I had no will that these two friends should cut their throats for +my sake. + +"Sir," said I, "I am very wearied, as Alan says; and what's more, +as you are a man that likely has sons of your own, I may tell you +it was a promise to my father." + +"Say nae mair, say nae mair," said Cluny, and pointed me to a bed +of heather in a corner of the Cage. For all that he was +displeased enough, looked at me askance, and grumbled when he +looked. And indeed it must be owned that both my scruples and +the words in which I declared them, smacked somewhat of the +Covenanter, and were little in their place among wild Highland +Jacobites. + +What with the brandy and the venison, a strange heaviness had +come over me; and I had scarce lain down upon the bed before I +fell into a kind of trance, in which I continued almost the whole +time of our stay in the Cage. Sometimes I was broad awake and +understood what passed; sometimes I only heard voices, or men +snoring, like the voice of a silly river; and the plaids upon the +wall dwindled down and swelled out again, like firelight shadows +on the roof. I must sometimes have spoken or cried out, for I +remember I was now and then amazed at being answered; yet I was +conscious of no particular nightmare, only of a general, black, +abiding horror -- a horror of the place I was in, and the bed I +lay in, and the plaids on the wall, and the voices, and the fire, +and myself. + +The barber-gillie, who was a doctor too, was called in to +prescribe for me; but as he spoke in the Gaelic, I understood not +a word of his opinion, and was too sick even to ask for a +translation. I knew well enough I was ill, and that was all I +cared about. + +I paid little heed while I lay in this poor pass. But Alan and +Cluny were most of the time at the cards, and I am clear that +Alan must have begun by winning; for I remember sitting up, and +seeing them hard at it, and a great glittering pile of as much as +sixty or a hundred guineas on the table. It looked strange +enough, to see all this wealth in a nest upon a cliff-side, +wattled about growing trees. And even then, I thought it seemed +deep water for Alan to be riding, who had no better battle-horse +than a green purse and a matter of five pounds. + +The luck, it seems, changed on the second day. About noon I was +wakened as usual for dinner, and as usual refused to eat, and was +given a dram with some bitter infusion which the barber had +prescribed. The sun was shining in at the open door of the Cage, +and this dazzled and offended me. Cluny sat at the table, biting +the pack of cards. Alan had stooped over the bed, and had his +face close to my eyes; to which, troubled as they were with the +fever, it seemed of the most shocking bigness. + +He asked me for a loan of my money. + +"What for?" said I. + +"O, just for a loan," said he. + +"But why?" I repeated. "I don't see." + +"Hut, David!" said Alan, "ye wouldnae grudge me a loan?" + +I would, though, if I had had my senses! But all I thought of +then was to get his face away, and I handed him my money. + +On the morning of the third day, when we had been forty-eight +hours in the Cage, I awoke with a great relief of spirits, very +weak and weary indeed, but seeing things of the right size and +with their honest, everyday appearance. I had a mind to eat, +moreover, rose from bed of my own movement, and as soon as we had +breakfasted, stepped to the entry of the Cage and sat down +outside in the top of the wood. It was a grey day with a cool, +mild air: and I sat in a dream all morning, only disturbed by the +passing by of Cluny's scouts and servants coming with provisions +and reports; for as the coast was at that time clear, you might +almost say he held court openly. + +When I returned, he and Alan had laid the cards aside, and were +questioning a gillie; and the chief turned about and spoke to me +in the Gaelic. + +"I have no Gaelic, sir," said I. + +Now since the card question, everything I said or did had the +power of annoying Cluny. "Your name has more sense than +yourself, then," said he angrily. "for it's good Gaelic. But the +point is this. My scout reports all clear in the south, and the +question is, have ye the strength to go?" + +I saw cards on the table, but no gold; only a heap of little +written papers, and these all on Cluny's side. Alan, besides, +had an odd look, like a man not very well content; and I began to +have a strong misgiving. + +"I do not know if I am as well as I should be," said I, looking +at Alan; "but the little money we have has a long way to carry +us." + +Alan took his under-lip into his mouth, and looked upon the +ground. + +"David," says he at last, "I've lost it; there's the naked +truth." + +"My money too?" said I. + +"Your money too," says Alan, with a groan. "Ye shouldnae have +given it me. I'm daft when I get to the cartes." + +"Hoot-toot! hoot-toot!" said Cluny. "It was all daffing; it's all +nonsense. Of course you'll have your money back again, and the +double of it, if ye'll make so free with me. It would be a +singular thing for me to keep it. It's not to be supposed that I +would be any hindrance to gentlemen in your situation; that would +be a singular thing!" cries he, and began to pull gold out of his +pocket with a mighty red face. + +Alan said nothing, only looked on the ground. + +"Will you step to the door with me, sir?" said I. + +Cluny said he would be very glad, and followed me readily enough, +but he looked flustered and put out. + +"And now, sir," says I, "I must first acknowledge your +generosity." + +"Nonsensical nonsense!" cries Cluny. "Where's the generosity? +This is just a most unfortunate affair; but what would ye have me +do -- boxed up in this bee-skep of a cage of mine -- but just set +my friends to the cartes, when I can get them? And if they lose, +of course, it's not to be supposed ----" And here he came to a +pause. + +"Yes," said I, "if they lose, you give them back their money; and +if they win, they carry away yours in their pouches! I have said +before that I grant your generosity; but to me, sir, it's a very +painful thing to be placed in this position." + +There was a little silence, in which Cluny seemed always as if he +was about to speak, but said nothing. All the time he grew +redder and redder in the face. + +"I am a young man," said I, "and I ask your advice. Advise me +as you would your son. My friend fairly lost his money, after +having fairly gained a far greater sum of yours; can I accept it +back again? Would that be the right part for me to play? +Whatever I do, you can see for yourself it must be hard upon a +man of any pride." + +"It's rather hard on me, too, Mr. Balfour," said Cluny, "and ye +give me very much the look of a man that has entrapped poor +people to their hurt. I wouldnae have my friends come to any +house of mine to accept affronts; no," he cried, with a sudden +heat of anger, "nor yet to give them!" + +"And so you see, sir," said I, "there is something to be said +upon my side; and this gambling is a very poor employ for +gentlefolks. But I am still waiting your opinion." + +I am sure if ever Cluny hated any man it was David Balfour. He +looked me all over with a warlike eye, and I saw the challenge at +his lips. But either my youth disarmed him, or perhaps his own +sense of justice. Certainly it was a mortifying matter for all +concerned, and not least Cluny; the more credit that he took it +as he did. + +"Mr. Balfour," said he, "I think you are too nice and +covenanting, but for all that you have the spirit of a very +pretty gentleman. Upon my honest word, ye may take this money -- +it's what I would tell my son -- and here's my hand along with +it!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE QUARREL + +Alan and I were put across Loch Errocht under cloud of night, and +went down its eastern shore to another hiding-place near the head +of Loch Rannoch, whither we were led by one of the gillies from +the Cage. This fellow carried all our luggage and Alan's +great-coat in the bargain, trotting along under the burthen, far +less than the half of which used to weigh me to the ground, like +a stout hill pony with a feather; yet he was a man that, in plain +contest, I could have broken on my knee. + +Doubtless it was a great relief to walk disencumbered; and +perhaps without that relief, and the consequent sense of liberty +and lightness, I could not have walked at all. I was but new +risen from a bed of sickness; and there was nothing in the state +of our affairs to hearten me for much exertion; travelling, as we +did, over the most dismal deserts in Scotland, under a cloudy +heaven, and with divided hearts among the travellers. + +For long, we said nothing; marching alongside or one behind the +other, each with a set countenance: I, angry and proud, and +drawing what strength I had from these two violent and sinful +feelings; Alan angry and ashamed, ashamed that he had lost my +money, angry that I should take it so ill. + +The thought of a separation ran always the stronger in my mind; +and the more I approved of it, the more ashamed I grew of my +approval. It would be a fine, handsome, generous thing, indeed, +for Alan to turn round and say to me: "Go, I am in the most +danger, and my company only increases yours." But for me to turn +to the friend who certainly loved me, and say to him: "You are in +great danger, I am in but little; your friendship is a burden; +go, take your risks and bear your hardships alone ----" no, that +was impossible; and even to think of it privily to myself, made +my cheeks to burn. + +And yet Alan had behaved like a child, and (what is worse) a +treacherous child. Wheedling my money from me while I lay +half-conscious was scarce better than theft; and yet here he was +trudging by my side, without a penny to his name, and by what I +could see, quite blithe to sponge upon the money he had driven me +to beg. True, I was ready to share it with him; but it made me +rage to see him count upon my readiness. + +These were the two things uppermost in my mind; and I could open +my mouth upon neither without black ungenerosity. So I did the +next worst, and said nothing, nor so much as looked once at my +companion, save with the tail of my eye. + +At last, upon the other side of Loch Errocht, going over a +smooth, rushy place, where the walking was easy, he could bear it +no longer, and came close to me. + +"David," says he, "this is no way for two friends to take a small +accident. I have to say that I'm sorry; and so that's said. And +now if you have anything, ye'd better say it." + +"O," says I, "I have nothing." + +He seemed disconcerted; at which I was meanly pleased. + +"No," said he, with rather a trembling voice, "but when I say I +was to blame?" + +"Why, of course, ye were to blame," said I, coolly; "and you will +bear me out that I have never reproached you." + +"Never," says he; "but ye ken very well that ye've done worse. +Are we to part? Ye said so once before. Are ye to say it again? +There's hills and heather enough between here and the two seas, +David; and I will own I'm no very keen to stay where I'm no +wanted." + +This pierced me like a sword, and seemed to lay bare my private +disloyalty. + +"Alan Breck!" I cried; and then: "Do you think I am one to turn +my back on you in your chief need? You dursn't say it to my +face. My whole conduct's there to give the lie to it. It's +true, I fell asleep upon the muir; but that was from weariness, +and you do wrong to cast it up to me----" + +"Which is what I never did," said Alan. + +"But aside from that," I continued, "what have I done that you +should even me to dogs by such a supposition? I never yet failed +a friend, and it's not likely I'll begin with you. There are +things between us that I can never forget, even if you can." + +"I will only say this to ye, David," said Alan, very quietly, +"that I have long been owing ye my life, and now I owe ye money. +Ye should try to make that burden light for me." + +This ought to have touched me, and in a manner it did, but the +wrong manner. I felt I was behaving, badly; and was now not only +angry with Alan, but angry with myself in the bargain; and it +made me the more cruel. + +"You asked me to speak," said I. "Well, then, I will. You own +yourself that you have done me a disservice; I have had to +swallow an affront: I have never reproached you, I never named +the thing till you did. And now you blame me," cried I, "because +I cannae laugh and sing as if I was glad to be affronted. The +next thing will be that I'm to go down upon my knees and thank +you for it! Ye should think more of others, Alan Breck. If ye +thought more of others, ye would perhaps speak less about +yourself; and when a friend that likes you very well has passed +over an offence without a word, you would be blithe to let it +lie, instead of making it a stick to break his back with. By +your own way of it, it was you that was to blame; then it +shouldnae be you to seek the quarrel." + +"Aweel," said Alan, "say nae mair." + +And we fell back into our former silence; and came to our +journey's end, and supped, and lay down to sleep, without another +word. + +The gillie put us across Loch Rannoch in the dusk of the next +day, and gave us his opinion as to our best route. This was to +get us up at once into the tops of the mountains: to go round by +a circuit, turning the heads of Glen Lyon, Glen Lochay, and Glen +Dochart, and come down upon the lowlands by Kippen and the upper +waters of the Forth. Alan was little pleased with a route which +led us through the country of his blood-foes, the Glenorchy +Campbells. He objected that by turning to the east, we should +come almost at once among the Athole Stewarts, a race of his own +name and lineage, although following a different chief, and come +besides by a far easier and swifter way to the place whither we +were bound. But the gillie, who was indeed the chief man of +Cluny's scouts, had good reasons to give him on all hands, naming +the force of troops in every district, and alleging finally (as +well as I could understand) that we should nowhere be so little +troubled as in a country of the Campbells. + +Alan gave way at last, but with only half a heart. "It's one of +the dowiest countries in Scotland," said he. "There's naething +there that I ken, but heath, and crows, and Campbells. But I see +that ye're a man of some penetration; and be it as ye please!" + +We set forth accordingly by this itinerary; and for the best part +of three nights travelled on eerie mountains and among the +well-heads of wild rivers; often buried in mist, almost +continually blown and rained upon, and not once cheered by any +glimpse of sunshine. By day, we lay and slept in the drenching +heather; by night, incessantly clambered upon break-neck hills +and among rude crags. We often wandered; we were often so +involved in fog, that we must lie quiet till it lightened. A +fire was never to be thought of. Our only food was drammach and +a portion of cold meat that we had carried from the Cage; and as +for drink, Heaven knows we had no want of water. + +This was a dreadful time, rendered the more dreadful by the gloom +of the weather and the country. I was never warm; my teeth +chattered in my head; I was troubled with a very sore throat, +such as I had on the isle; I had a painful stitch in my side, +which never left me; and when I slept in my wet bed, with the +rain beating above and the mud oozing below me, it was to live +over again in fancy the worst part of my adventures -- to see the +tower of Shaws lit by lightning, Ransome carried below on the +men's backs, Shuan dying on the round-house floor, or Colin +Campbell grasping at the bosom of his coat. From such broken +slumbers, I would be aroused in the gloaming, to sit up in the +same puddle where I had slept, and sup cold drammach; the rain +driving sharp in my face or running down my back in icy trickles; +the mist enfolding us like as in a gloomy chamber -- or, perhaps, +if the wind blew, falling suddenly apart and showing us the gulf +of some dark valley where the streams were crying aloud. + +The sound of an infinite number of rivers came up from all round. +In this steady rain the springs of the mountain were broken up; +every glen gushed water like a cistern; every stream was in high +spate, and had filled and overflowed its channel. During our +night tramps, it was solemn to hear the voice of them below in +the valleys, now booming like thunder, now with an angry cry. I +could well understand the story of the Water Kelpie, that demon +of the streams, who is fabled to keep wailing and roaring at the +ford until the coming of the doomed traveller. Alan I saw +believed it, or half believed it; and when the cry of the river +rose more than usually sharp, I was little surprised (though, of +course, I would still be shocked) to see him cross himself in the +manner of the Catholics. + +During all these horrid wanderings we had no familiarity, +scarcely even that of speech. The truth is that I was sickening +for my grave, which is my best excuse. But besides that I was of +an unforgiving disposition from my birth, slow to take offence, +slower to forget it, and now incensed both against my companion +and myself. For the best part of two days he was unweariedly +kind; silent, indeed, but always ready to help, and always hoping +(as I could very well see) that my displeasure would blow by. +For the same length of time I stayed in myself, nursing my anger, +roughly refusing his services, and passing him over with my eyes +as if he had been a bush or a stone. + +The second night, or rather the peep of the third day, found us +upon a very open hill, so that we could not follow our usual plan +and lie down immediately to eat and sleep. Before we had reached +a place of shelter, the grey had come pretty clear, for though it +still rained, the clouds ran higher; and Alan, looking in my +face, showed some marks of concern. + +"Ye had better let me take your pack," said he, for perhaps the +ninth time since we had parted from the scout beside Loch +Rannoch. + +"I do very well, I thank you," said I, as cold as ice. + +Alan flushed darkly. "I'll not offer it again," he said. "I'm +not a patient man, David." + +"I never said you were," said I, which was exactly the rude, +silly speech of a boy of ten. + +Alan made no answer at the time, but his conduct answered for +him. Henceforth, it is to be thought, he quite forgave himself +for the affair at Cluny's; cocked his hat again, walked jauntily, +whistled airs, and looked at me upon one side with a provoking +smile. + +The third night we were to pass through the western end of the +country of Balquhidder. It came clear and cold, with a touch in +the air like frost, and a northerly wind that blew the clouds +away and made the stars bright. The streams were full, of +course, and still made a great noise among the hills; but I +observed that Alan thought no more upon the Kelpie, and was in +high good spirits. As for me, the change of weather came too +late; I had lain in the mire so long that (as the Bible has it) +my very clothes "abhorred me." I was dead weary, deadly sick and +full of pains and shiverings; the chill of the wind went through +me, and the sound of it confused my ears. In this poor state I +had to bear from my companion something in the nature of a +persecution. He spoke a good deal, and never without a taunt. +"Whig" was the best name he had to give me. "Here," he would +say, "here's a dub for ye to jump, my Whiggie! I ken you're a +fine jumper!" And so on; all the time with a gibing voice and +face. + +I knew it was my own doing, and no one else's; but I was too +miserable to repent. I felt I could drag myself but little +farther; pretty soon, I must lie down and die on these wet +mountains like a sheep or a fox, and my bones must whiten there +like the bones of a beast. My head was light perhaps; but I +began to love the prospect, I began to glory in the thought of +such a death, alone in the desert, with the wild eagles besieging +my last moments. Alan would repent then, I thought; he would +remember, when I was dead, how much he owed me, and the +remembrance would be torture. So I went like a sick, silly, and +bad-hearted schoolboy, feeding my anger against a fellow-man, +when I would have been better on my knees, crying on God for +mercy. And at each of Alan's taunts, I hugged myself. "Ah!" +thinks I to myself, "I have a better taunt in readiness; when I +lie down and die, you will feel it like a buffet in your face; +ah, what a revenge! ah, how you will regret your ingratitude and +cruelty!" + +All the while, I was growing worse and worse. Once I had fallen, +my leg simply doubling under me, and this had struck Alan for the +moment; but I was afoot so briskly, and set off again with such a +natural manner, that he soon forgot the incident. Flushes of +heat went over me, and then spasms of shuddering. The stitch in +my side was hardly bearable. At last I began to feel that I +could trail myself no farther: and with that, there came on me +all at once the wish to have it out with Alan, let my anger +blaze, and be done with my life in a more sudden manner. He had +just called me "Whig." I stopped. + +"Mr. Stewart," said I, in a voice that quivered like a +fiddle-string, "you are older than I am, and should know your +manners. Do you think it either very wise or very witty to cast +my politics in my teeth? I thought, where folk differed, it was +the part of gentlemen to differ civilly; and if I did not, I may +tell you I could find a better taunt than some of yours." + +Alan had stopped opposite to me, his hat cocked, his hands in his +breeches pockets, his head a little on one side. He listened, +smiling evilly, as I could see by the starlight; and when I had +done he began to whistle a Jacobite air. It was the air made in +mockery of General Cope's defeat at Preston Pans: + + "Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin' yet? + And are your drums a-beatin' yet?" + + +And it came in my mind that Alan, on the day of that battle, had +been engaged upon the royal side. + +"Why do ye take that air, Mr. Stewart?" said I. "Is that to +remind me you have been beaten on both sides?" + +The air stopped on Alan's lips. "David!" said he. + +"But it's time these manners ceased," I continued; "and I mean +you shall henceforth speak civilly of my King and my good friends +the Campbells." + +"I am a Stewart --" began Alan. + +"O!" says I, "I ken ye bear a king's name. But you are to +remember, since I have been in the Highlands, I have seen a good +many of those that bear it; and the best I can say of them is +this, that they would be none the worse of washing." + +"Do you know that you insult me?" said Alan, very low. + +"I am sorry for that," said I, "for I am not done; and if you +distaste the sermon, I doubt the pirliecue[29] will please you as +little. You have been chased in the field by the grown men of my +party; it seems a poor kind of pleasure to out-face a boy. Both +the Campbells and the Whigs have beaten you; you have run before +them like a hare. It behoves you to speak of them as of your +betters." + +[29] A second sermon. + + +Alan stood quite still, the tails of his great-coat clapping +behind him in the wind. + +"This is a pity" he said at last. "There are things said that +cannot be passed over." + +"I never asked you to," said I. "I am as ready as yourself." + +"Ready?" said he. + +"Ready," I repeated. "I am no blower and boaster like some that +I could name. Come on!" And drawing my sword, I fell on guard +as Alan himself had taught me. + +"David!" he cried . "Are ye daft? I cannae draw upon ye, David. +It's fair murder." + +"That was your look-out when you insulted me," said I. + +"It's the truth!" cried Alan, and he stood for a moment, wringing +his mouth in his hand like a man in sore perplexity. "It's the +bare truth," he said, and drew his sword. But before I could +touch his blade with mine, he had thrown it from him and fallen +to the ground. "Na, na," he kept saying, "na, na -- I cannae, I +cannae." + +At this the last of my anger oozed all out of me; and I found +myself only sick, and sorry, and blank, and wondering at myself. +I would have given the world to take back what I had said; but a +word once spoken, who can recapture it? I minded me of all +Alan's kindness and courage in the past, how he had helped and +cheered and borne with me in our evil days; and then recalled my +own insults, and saw that I had lost for ever that doughty +friend. At the same time, the sickness that hung upon me seemed +to redouble, and the pang in my side was like a sword for +sharpness. I thought I must have swooned where I stood. + +This it was that gave me a thought. No apology could blot out +what I had said; it was needless to think of one, none could +cover the offence; but where an apology was vain, a mere cry for +help might bring Alan back to my side. I put my pride away from +me. "Alan!" I said; "if ye cannae help me, I must just die +here." + +He started up sitting, and looked at me. + +"It's true," said I. "I'm by with it. O, let me get into the +bield of a house -- I'll can die there easier." I had no need to +pretend; whether I chose or not, I spoke in a weeping voice that +would have melted a heart of stone. + +"Can ye walk?" asked Alan. + +"No," said I, "not without help. This last hour my legs have +been fainting under me; I've a stitch in my side like a red-hot +iron; I cannae breathe right. If I die, ye'll can forgive me, +Alan? In my heart, I liked ye fine -- even when I was the +angriest." + +"Wheesht, wheesht!" cried Alan. "Dinna say that! David man, ye +ken --" He shut his mouth upon a sob. "Let me get my arm about +ye," he continued; "that's the way! Now lean upon me hard. Gude +kens where there's a house! We're in Balwhidder, too; there +should be no want of houses, no, nor friends' houses here. Do ye +gang easier so, Davie?" + +"Ay" said I, "I can be doing this way;" and I pressed his arm +with my hand. + +Again he came near sobbing. "Davie," said he, "I'm no a right +man at all; I have neither sense nor kindness; I could nae +remember ye were just a bairn, I couldnae see ye were dying on +your feet; Davie, ye'll have to try and forgive me." + +"O man, let's say no more about it!" said I. "We're neither one +of us to mend the other -- that's the truth! We must just bear +and forbear, man Alan. O, but my stitch is sore! Is there nae +house?" + +"I'll find a house to ye, David," he said, stoutly. "We'll +follow down the burn, where there's bound to be houses. My poor +man, will ye no be better on my back?" + +"O, Alan," says I, "and me a good twelve inches taller?" + +"Ye're no such a thing," cried Alan, with a start. "There may be +a trifling matter of an inch or two; I'm no saying I'm just +exactly what ye would call a tall man, whatever; and I dare say," +he added, his voice tailing off in a laughable manner, "now when +I come to think of it, I dare say ye'll be just about right. Ay, +it'll be a foot, or near hand; or may be even mair!" + +It was sweet and laughable to hear Alan eat his words up in the +fear of some fresh quarrel. I could have laughed, had not my +stitch caught me so hard; but if I had laughed, I think I must +have wept too. + +"Alan," cried I, "what makes ye so good to me? What makes ye +care for such a thankless fellow?" + +"'Deed, and I don't, know" said Alan. "For just precisely what I +thought I liked about ye, was that ye never quarrelled: -- and +now I like ye better!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +IN BALQUHIDDER + +At the door of the first house we came to, Alan knocked, which +was of no very safe enterprise in such a part of the Highlands as +the Braes of Balquhidder. No great clan held rule there; it was +filled and disputed by small septs, and broken remnants, and what +they call "chiefless folk," driven into the wild country about +the springs of Forth and Teith by the advance of the Campbells. +Here were Stewarts and Maclarens, which came to the same thing, +for the Maclarens followed Alan's chief in war, and made but one +clan with Appin. Here, too, were many of that old, proscribed, +nameless, red-handed clan of the Macgregors. They had always +been ill-considered, and now worse than ever, having credit with +no side or party in the whole country of Scotland. Their chief, +Macgregor of Macgregor, was in exile; the more immediate leader +of that part of them about Balquhidder, James More, Rob Roy's +eldest son, lay waiting his trial in Edinburgh Castle; they were +in ill-blood with Highlander and Lowlander, with the Grahames, +the Maclarens, and the Stewarts; and Alan, who took up the +quarrel of any friend, however distant, was extremely wishful to +avoid them. + +Chance served us very well; for it was a household of Maclarens +that we found, where Alan was not only welcome for his name's +sake but known by reputation. Here then I was got to bed without +delay, and a doctor fetched, who found me in a sorry plight. But +whether because he was a very good doctor, or I a very young, +strong man, I lay bedridden for no more than a week, and before a +month I was able to take the road again with a good heart. + +All this time Alan would not leave me though I often pressed him, +and indeed his foolhardiness in staying was a common subject of +outcry with the two or three friends that were let into the +secret. He hid by day in a hole of the braes under a little +wood; and at night, when the coast was clear, would come into the +house to visit me. I need not say if I was pleased to see him; +Mrs. Maclaren, our hostess, thought nothing good enough for such +a guest; and as Duncan Dhu (which was the name of our host) had a +pair of pipes in his house, and was much of a lover of music, +this time of my recovery was quite a festival, and we commonly +turned night into day. + +The soldiers let us be; although once a party of two companies +and some dragoons went by in the bottom of the valley, where I +could see them through the window as I lay in bed. What was much +more astonishing, no magistrate came near me, and there was no +question put of whence I came or whither I was going; and in that +time of excitement, I was as free of all inquiry as though I had +lain in a desert. Yet my presence was known before I left to all +the people in Balquhidder and the adjacent parts; many coming +about the house on visits and these (after the custom of the +country) spreading the news among their neighbours. The bills, +too, had now been printed. There was one pinned near the foot of +my bed, where I could read my own not very flattering portrait +and, in larger characters, the amount of the blood money that had +been set upon my life. Duncan Dhu and the rest that knew that I +had come there in Alan's company, could have entertained no doubt +of who I was; and many others must have had their guess. For +though I had changed my clothes, I could not change my age or +person; and Lowland boys of eighteen were not so rife in these +parts of the world, and above all about that time, that they +could fail to put one thing with another, and connect me with the +bill. So it was, at least. Other folk keep a secret among two +or three near friends, and somehow it leaks out; but among these +clansmen, it is told to a whole countryside, and they will keep +it for a century. + +There was but one thing happened worth narrating; and that is the +visit I had of Robin Oig, one of the sons of the notorious Rob +Roy. He was sought upon all sides on a charge of carrying a +young woman from Balfron and marrying her (as was alleged) by +force; yet he stepped about Balquhidder like a gentleman in his +own walled policy. It was he who had shot James Maclaren at the +plough stilts, a quarrel never satisfied; yet he walked into the +house of his blood enemies as a rider[30] might into a public +inn. + +[30]Commercial traveller. + + +Duncan had time to pass me word of who it was; and we looked at +one another in concern. You should understand, it was then close +upon the time of Alan's coming; the two were little likely to +agree; and yet if we sent word or sought to make a signal, it was +sure to arouse suspicion in a man under so dark a cloud as the +Macgregor. + +He came in with a great show of civility, but like a man among +inferiors; took off his bonnet to Mrs. Maclaren, but clapped it +on his head again to speak to Duncan; and leaving thus set +himself (as he would have thought) in a proper light, came to my +bedside and bowed. + +"I am given to know, sir," says he, "that your name is Balfour." + +"They call me David Balfour," said I, "at your service." + +"I would give ye my name in return, sir" he replied, "but it's +one somewhat blown upon of late days; and it'll perhaps suffice +if I tell ye that I am own brother to James More Drummond or +Macgregor, of whom ye will scarce have failed to hear." + +"No, sir," said I, a little alarmed; "nor yet of your father, +Macgregor-Campbell." And I sat up and bowed in bed; for I +thought best to compliment him, in case he was proud of having +had an outlaw to his father. + +He bowed in return. "But what I am come to say, sir," he went +on, "is this. In the year '45, my brother raised a part of the +'Gregara' and marched six companies to strike a stroke for the +good side; and the surgeon that marched with our clan and cured +my brother's leg when it was broken in the brush at Preston Pans, +was a gentleman of the same name precisely as yourself. He was +brother to Balfour of Baith; and if you are in any reasonable +degree of nearness one of that gentleman's kin, I have come to +put myself and my people at your command." + +You are to remember that I knew no more of my descent than any +cadger's dog; my uncle, to be sure, had prated of some of our +high connections, but nothing to the present purpose; and there +was nothing left me but that bitter disgrace of owning that I +could not tell. + +Robin told me shortly he was sorry he had put himself about, +turned his back upon me without a sign of salutation, and as he +went towards the door, I could hear him telling Duncan that I was +"only some kinless loon that didn't know his own father." Angry +as I was at these words, and ashamed of my own ignorance, I could +scarce keep from smiling that a man who was under the lash of the +law (and was indeed hanged some three years later) should be so +nice as to the descent of his acquaintances. + +Just in the door, he met Alan coming in; and the two drew back +and looked at each other like strange dogs. They were neither of +them big men, but they seemed fairly to swell out with pride. +Each wore a sword, and by a movement of his haunch, thrust clear +the hilt of it, so that it might be the more readily grasped and +the blade drawn. + +"Mr. Stewart, I am thinking," says Robin. + +"Troth, Mr. Macgregor, it's not a name to be ashamed of," +answered Alan. + +"I did not know ye were in my country, sir," says Robin. + +"It sticks in my mind that I am in the country of my friends the +Maclarens," says Alan. + +"That's a kittle point," returned the other. "There may be two +words to say to that. But I think I will have heard that you are +a man of your sword?" + +"Unless ye were born deaf, Mr. Macgregor, ye will have heard a +good deal more than that," says Alan. "I am not the only man +that can draw steel in Appin; and when my kinsman and captain, +Ardshiel, had a talk with a gentleman of your name, not so many +years back, I could never hear that the Macgregor had the best of +it." + +"Do ye mean my father, sir?" says Robin. + +"Well, I wouldnae wonder," said Alan. "The gentleman I have in +my mind had the ill-taste to clap Campbell to his name." + +"My father was an old man," returned Robin. + +"The match was unequal. You and me would make a better pair, +sir." + +"I was thinking that," said Alan. + +I was half out of bed, and Duncan had been hanging at the elbow +of these fighting cocks, ready to intervene upon the least +occasion. But when that word was uttered, it was a case of now +or never; and Duncan, with something of a white face to be sure, +thrust himself between. + +"Gentlemen," said he, "I will have been thinking of a very +different matter, whateffer. Here are my pipes, and here are you +two gentlemen who are baith acclaimed pipers. It's an auld +dispute which one of ye's the best. Here will be a braw chance +to settle it." + +"Why, sir," said Alan, still addressing Robin, from whom indeed +he had not so much as shifted his eyes, nor yet Robin from him, +"why, sir," says Alan, "I think I will have heard some sough[31] +of the sort. Have ye music, as folk say? Are ye a bit of a +piper?" + +[31]Rumour. + + +"I can pipe like a Macrimmon!" cries Robin. + +"And that is a very bold word," quoth Alan. + +"I have made bolder words good before now," returned Robin, "and +that against better adversaries." + +"It is easy to try that," says Alan. + +Duncan Dhu made haste to bring out the pair of pipes that was his +principal possession, and to set before his guests a mutton-ham +and a bottle of that drink which they call Athole brose, and +which is made of old whiskey, strained honey and sweet cream, +slowly beaten together in the right order and proportion. The +two enemies were still on the very breach of a quarrel; but down +they sat, one upon each side of the peat fire, with a mighty show +of politeness. Maclaren pressed them to taste his mutton-ham and +"the wife's brose," reminding them the wife was out of Athole and +had a name far and wide for her skill in that confection. But +Robin put aside these hospitalities as bad for the breath. + +"I would have ye to remark, sir," said Alan, "that I havenae +broken bread for near upon ten hours, which will be worse for the +breath than any brose in Scotland." + +"I will take no advantages, Mr. Stewart," replied Robin. "Eat +and drink; I'll follow you." + +Each ate a small portion of the ham and drank a glass of the +brose to Mrs. Maclaren; and then after a great number of +civilities, Robin took the pipes and played a little spring in a +very ranting manner. + +"Ay, ye can, blow" said Alan; and taking the instrument from his +rival, he first played the same spring in a manner identical with +Robin's; and then wandered into variations, which, as he went on, +he decorated with a perfect flight of grace-notes, such as pipers +love, and call the "warblers." + +I had been pleased with Robin's playing, Alan's ravished me. + +"That's no very bad, Mr. Stewart," said the rival, "but ye show a +poor device in your warblers." + +"Me!" cried Alan, the blood starting to his face. "I give ye the +lie." + +"Do ye own yourself beaten at the pipes, then," said Robin, "that +ye seek to change them for the sword?" + +"And that's very well said, Mr. Macgregor," returned Alan; "and +in the meantime" (laying a strong accent on the word) "I take +back the lie. I appeal to Duncan." + +"Indeed, ye need appeal to naebody," said Robin. "Ye're a far +better judge than any Maclaren in Balquhidder: for it's a God's +truth that you're a very creditable piper for a Stewart. Hand me +the pipes." Alan did as he asked; and Robin proceeded to imitate +and correct some part of Alan's variations, which it seemed that +he remembered perfectly. + +"Ay, ye have music," said Alan, gloomily. + +"And now be the judge yourself, Mr. Stewart," said Robin; and +taking up the variations from the beginning, he worked them +throughout to so new a purpose, with such ingenuity and +sentiment, and with so odd a fancy and so quick a knack in the +grace-notes, that I was amazed to hear him. + +As for Alan, his face grew dark and hot, and he sat and gnawed +his fingers, like a man under some deep affront. "Enough!" he +cried. "Ye can blow the pipes -- make the most of that." And he +made as if to rise. + +But Robin only held out his hand as if to ask for silence, and +struck into the slow measure of a pibroch. It was a fine piece of +music in itself, and nobly played; but it seems, besides, it was +a piece peculiar to the Appin Stewarts and a chief favourite with +Alan. The first notes were scarce out, before there came a +change in his face; when the time quickened, he seemed to grow +restless in his seat; and long before that piece was at an end, +the last signs of his anger died from him, and he had no thought +but for the music. + +"Robin Oig," he said, when it was done, "ye are a great piper. I +am not fit to blow in the same kingdom with ye. Body of me! ye +have mair music in your sporran than I have in my head! And +though it still sticks in my mind that I could maybe show ye +another of it with the cold steel, I warn ye beforehand -- it'll +no be fair! It would go against my heart to haggle a man that +can blow the pipes as you can!" + +Thereupon that quarrel was made up; all night long the brose was +going and the pipes changing hands; and the day had come pretty +bright, and the three men were none the better for what they had +been taking, before Robin as much as thought upon the road. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH + +The month, as I have said, was not yet out, but it was already +far through August, and beautiful warm weather, with every sign +of an early and great harvest, when I was pronounced able for my +journey. Our money was now run to so low an ebb that we must +think first of all on speed; for if we came not soon to Mr. +Rankeillor's, or if when we came there he should fail to help me, +we must surely starve. In Alan's view, besides, the hunt must +have now greatly slackened; and the line of the Forth and even +Stirling Bridge, which is the main pass over that river, would be +watched with little interest. + +"It's a chief principle in military affairs," said he, "to go +where ye are least expected. Forth is our trouble; ye ken the +saying, 'Forth bridles the wild Hielandman.' Well, if we seek to +creep round about the head of that river and come down by Kippen +or Balfron, it's just precisely there that they'll be looking to +lay hands on us. But if we stave on straight to the auld Brig of +Stirling, I'll lay my sword they let us pass unchallenged." + +The first night, accordingly, we pushed to the house of a +Maclaren in Strathire, a friend of Duncan's, where we slept the +twenty-first of the month, and whence we set forth again about +the fall of night to make another easy stage. The twenty-second +we lay in a heather bush on the hillside in Uam Var, within view +of a herd of deer, the happiest ten hours of sleep in a fine, +breathing sunshine and on bone-dry ground, that I have ever +tasted. That night we struck Allan Water, and followed it down; +and coming to the edge of the hills saw the whole Carse of +Stirling underfoot, as flat as a pancake, with the town and +castle on a hill in the midst of it, and the moon shining on the +Links of Forth. + +"Now," said Alan, "I kenna if ye care, but ye're in your own land +again. We passed the Hieland Line in the first hour; and now if +we could but pass yon crooked water, we might cast our bonnets in +the air." + +In Allan Water, near by where it falls into the Forth, we found a +little sandy islet, overgrown with burdock, butterbur and the +like low plants, that would just cover us if we lay flat. Here +it was we made our camp, within plain view of Stirling Castle, +whence we could hear the drums beat as some part of the garrison +paraded. Shearers worked all day in a field on one side of the +river, and we could hear the stones going on the hooks and the +voices and even the words of the men talking. It behoved to lie +close and keep silent. But the sand of the little isle was +sun-warm, the green plants gave us shelter for our heads, we had +food and drink in plenty; and to crown all, we were within sight +of safety. + +As soon as the shearers quit their work and the dusk began to +fall, we waded ashore and struck for the Bridge of Stirling, +keeping to the fields and under the field fences. + +The bridge is close under the castle hill, an old, high, narrow +bridge with pinnacles along the parapet; and you may conceive +with how much interest I looked upon it, not only as a place +famous in history, but as the very doors of salvation to Alan and +myself. The moon was not yet up when we came there; a few lights +shone along the front of the fortress, and lower down a few +lighted windows in the town; but it was all mighty still, and +there seemed to be no guard upon the passage. + +I was for pushing straight across; but Alan was more wary. + +"It looks unco' quiet," said he; "but for all that we'll lie down +here cannily behind a dyke, and make sure." + +So we lay for about a quarter of an hour, whiles whispering, +whiles lying still and hearing nothing earthly but the washing of +the water on the piers. At last there came by an old, hobbling +woman with a crutch stick; who first stopped a little, close to +where we lay, and bemoaned herself and the long way she had +travelled; and then set forth again up the steep spring of the +bridge. The woman was so little, and the night still so dark, +that we soon lost sight of her; only heard the sound of her +steps, and her stick, and a cough that she had by fits, draw +slowly farther away. + +"She's bound to be across now," I whispered. + +"Na," said Alan, "her foot still sounds boss[32] upon the +bridge." + +[32]Hollow. + + +And just then -- "Who goes?" cried a voice, and we heard the butt +of a musket rattle on the stones. I must suppose the sentry had +been sleeping, so that had we tried, we might have passed unseen; +but he was awake now, and the chance forfeited. + +"This'll never do," said Alan. "This'll never, never do for us, +David." + +And without another word, he began to crawl away through the +fields; and a little after, being well out of eye-shot, got to +his feet again, and struck along a road that led to the eastward. +I could not conceive what he was doing; and indeed I was so +sharply cut by the disappointment, that I was little likely to be +pleased with anything. A moment back and I had seen myself +knocking at Mr. Rankeillor's door to claim my inheritance, like a +hero in a ballad; and here was I back again, a wandering, hunted +blackguard, on the wrong side of Forth. + +"Well?" said I. + +"Well," said Alan, "what would ye have? They're none such fools +as I took them for. We have still the Forth to pass, Davie -- +weary fall the rains that fed and the hillsides that guided it!" + +"And why go east?" said I. + +"Ou, just upon the chance!" said he. "If we cannae pass the +river, we'll have to see what we can do for the firth." + +"There are fords upon the river, and none upon the firth," said +I. + +"To be sure there are fords, and a bridge forbye," quoth Alan; +"and of what service, when they are watched?" + +"Well," said I, "but a river can be swum." + +"By them that have the skill of it," returned he; "but I have yet +to hear that either you or me is much of a hand at that exercise; +and for my own part, I swim like a stone." + +"I'm not up to you in talking back, Alan," I said; "but I can see +we're making bad worse. If it's hard to pass a river, it stands +to reason it must be worse to pass a sea." + +"But there's such a thing as a boat," says Alan, "or I'm the more +deceived." + +"Ay, and such a thing as money," says I. "But for us that have +neither one nor other, they might just as well not have been +invented." + +"Ye think so?" said Alan. + +"I do that," said I. + +"David," says he, "ye're a man of small invention and less faith. +But let me set my wits upon the hone, and if I cannae beg, +borrow, nor yet steal a boat, I'll make one!" + +"I think I see ye!" said I. "And what's more than all that: if +ye pass a bridge, it can tell no tales; but if we pass the firth, +there's the boat on the wrong side -- somebody must have brought +it -- the country-side will all be in a bizz ---" + +"Man!" cried Alan, "if I make a boat, I'll make a body to take it +back again! So deave me with no more of your nonsense, but walk +(for that's what you've got to do) --and let Alan think for ye." + +All night, then, we walked through the north side of the Carse +under the high line of the Ochil mountains; and by Alloa and +Clackmannan and Culross, all of which we avoided: and about ten +in the morning, mighty hungry and tired, came to the little +clachan of Limekilns. This is a place that sits near in by the +water-side, and looks across the Hope to the town of the +Queensferry. Smoke went up from both of these, and from other +villages and farms upon all hands. The fields were being reaped; +two ships lay anchored, and boats were coming and going on the +Hope. It was altogether a right pleasant sight to me; and I +could not take my fill of gazing at these comfortable, green, +cultivated hills and the busy people both of the field and sea. + +For all that, there was Mr. Rankeillor's house on the south +shore, where I had no doubt wealth awaited me; and here was I +upon the north, clad in poor enough attire of an outlandish +fashion, with three silver shillings left to me of all my +fortune, a price set upon my head, and an outlawed man for my +sole company. + +"O, Alan!" said I, "to think of it! Over there, there's all that +heart could want waiting me; and the birds go over, and the boats +go over -- all that please can go, but just me only! O, man, but +it's a heart-break!" + +In Limekilns we entered a small change-house, which we only knew +to be a public by the wand over the door, and bought some bread +and cheese from a good-looking lass that was the servant. This +we carried with us in a bundle, meaning to sit and eat it in a +bush of wood on the sea-shore, that we saw some third part of a +mile in front. As we went, I kept looking across the water and +sighing to myself; and though I took no heed of it, Alan had +fallen into a muse. At last he stopped in the way. + +"Did ye take heed of the lass we bought this of?" says he, +tapping on the bread and cheese. + +"To be sure," said I, "and a bonny lass she was." + +"Ye thought that?" cries he. "Man, David, that's good news." + +"In the name of all that's wonderful, why so?" says I. "What +good can that do?" + +"Well," said Alan, with one of his droll looks, "I was rather in +hopes it would maybe get us that boat." + +"If it were the other way about, it would be liker it," said I. + +"That's all that you ken, ye see," said Alan. "I don't want the +lass to fall in love with ye, I want her to be sorry for ye, +David; to which end there is no manner of need that she should +take you for a beauty. Let me see" (looking me curiously over). +"I wish ye were a wee thing paler; but apart from that ye'll do +fine for my purpose -- ye have a fine, hang-dog, rag-and-tatter, +clappermaclaw kind of a look to ye, as if ye had stolen the coat +from a potato-bogle. Come; right about, and back to the +change-house for that boat of ours." + +I followed him, laughing. + +"David Balfour," said he, "ye're a very funny gentleman by your +way of it, and this is a very funny employ for ye, no doubt. For +all that, if ye have any affection for my neck (to say nothing of +your own) ye will perhaps be kind enough to take this matter +responsibly. I am going to do a bit of play-acting, the bottom +ground of which is just exactly as serious as the gallows for the +pair of us. So bear it, if ye please, in mind, and conduct +yourself according." + +"Well, well," said I, "have it as you will." + +As we got near the clachan, he made me take his arm and hang upon +it like one almost helpless with weariness; and by the time he +pushed open the change-house door, he seemed to be half carrying +me. The maid appeared surprised (as well she might be) at our +speedy return; but Alan had no words to spare for her in +explanation, helped me to a chair, called for a tass of brandy +with which he fed me in little sips, and then breaking up the +bread and cheese helped me to eat it like a nursery-lass; the +whole with that grave, concerned, affectionate countenance, that +might have imposed upon a judge. It was small wonder if the maid +were taken with the picture we presented, of a poor, sick, +overwrought lad and his most tender comrade. She drew quite +near, and stood leaning with her back on the next table. + +"What's like wrong with him?" said she at last. + +Alan turned upon her, to my great wonder, with a kind of fury. +"Wrong?" cries he. "He's walked more hundreds of miles than he +has hairs upon his chin, and slept oftener in wet heather than +dry sheets. Wrong, quo' she! Wrong enough, I would think! +Wrong, indeed!" and he kept grumbling to himself as he fed me, +like a man ill-pleased. + +"He's young for the like of that," said the maid. + +"Ower young," said Alan, with his back to her. + +"He would be better riding," says she. + +"And where could I get a horse to him?" cried Alan, turning on +her with the same appearance of fury. "Would ye have me steal?" + +I thought this roughness would have sent her off in dudgeon, as +indeed it closed her mouth for the time. But my companion knew +very well what he was doing; and for as simple as he was in some +things of life, had a great fund of roguishness in such affairs +as these. + +"Ye neednae tell me," she said at last -- "ye're gentry." + +"Well," said Alan, softened a little (I believe against his will) +by this artless comment, "and suppose we were? Did ever you hear +that gentrice put money in folk's pockets?" + +She sighed at this, as if she were herself some disinherited +great lady. "No," says she, "that's true indeed." + +I was all this while chafing at the part I played, and sitting +tongue-tied between shame and merriment; but somehow at this I +could hold in no longer, and bade Alan let me be, for I was +better already. My voice stuck in my throat, for I ever hated to +take part in lies; but my very embarrassment helped on the plot, +for the lass no doubt set down my husky voice to sickness and +fatigue. + +"Has he nae friends?" said she, in a tearful voice. + +"That has he so!" cried Alan, "if we could but win to them! -- +friends and rich friends, beds to lie in, food to eat, doctors to +see to him -- and here he must tramp in the dubs and sleep in the +heather like a beggarman." + +"And why that?" says the lass. + +"My dear," said Alan, "I cannae very safely say; but I'll tell ye +what I'll do instead," says he, "I'll whistle ye a bit tune." +And with that he leaned pretty far over the table, and in a mere +breath of a whistle, but with a wonderful pretty sentiment, gave +her a few bars of "Charlie is my darling." + +"Wheesht," says she, and looked over her shoulder to the door. + +"That's it," said Alan. + +"And him so young!" cries the lass. + +"He's old enough to----" and Alan struck his forefinger on the +back part of his neck, meaning that I was old enough to lose my +head. + +"It would be a black shame," she cried, flushing high. + +"It's what will be, though," said Alan, "unless we manage the +better." + +At this the lass turned and ran out of that part of the house, +leaving us alone together. Alan in high good humour at the +furthering of his schemes, and I in bitter dudgeon at being +called a Jacobite and treated like a child. + +"Alan," I cried, "I can stand no more of this." + +"Ye'll have to sit it then, Davie," said he. "For if ye upset +the pot now, ye may scrape your own life out of the fire, but +Alan Breck is a dead man." + +This was so true that I could only groan; and even my groan +served Alan's purpose, for it was overheard by the lass as she +came flying in again with a dish of white puddings and a bottle +of strong ale. + +"Poor lamb!" says she, and had no sooner set the meat before us, +than she touched me on the shoulder with a little friendly touch, +as much as to bid me cheer up. Then she told us to fall to, and +there would be no more to pay; for the inn was her own, or at +least her father's, and he was gone for the day to Pittencrieff. +We waited for no second bidding, for bread and cheese is but cold +comfort and the puddings smelt excellently well; and while we sat +and ate, she took up that same place by the next table, looking +on, and thinking, and frowning to herself, and drawing the string +of her apron through her hand. + +"I'm thinking ye have rather a long tongue," she said at last to +Alan. + +"Ay" said Alan; "but ye see I ken the folk I speak to." + +"I would never betray ye," said she, "if ye mean that." + +"No," said he, "ye're not that kind. But I'll tell ye what ye +would do, ye would help." + +"I couldnae," said she, shaking her head. "Na, I couldnae." + +"No," said he, "but if ye could?" + +She answered him nothing. + +"Look here, my lass," said Alan, "there are boats in the Kingdom +of Fife, for I saw two (no less) upon the beach, as I came in by +your town's end. Now if we could have the use of a boat to pass +under cloud of night into Lothian, and some secret, decent kind +of a man to bring that boat back again and keep his counsel, +there would be two souls saved -- mine to all likelihood -- his +to a dead surety. If we lack that boat, we have but three +shillings left in this wide world; and where to go, and how to +do, and what other place there is for us except the chains of a +gibbet -- I give you my naked word, I kenna! Shall we go +wanting, lassie? Are ye to lie in your warm bed and think upon +us, when the wind gowls in the chimney and the rain tirls on the +roof? Are ye to eat your meat by the cheeks of a red fire, and +think upon this poor sick lad of mine, biting his finger ends on +a blae muir for cauld and hunger? Sick or sound, he must aye be +moving; with the death grapple at his throat he must aye be +trailing in the rain on the lang roads; and when he gants his +last on a rickle of cauld stanes, there will be nae friends near +him but only me and God." + +At this appeal, I could see the lass was in great trouble of +mind, being tempted to help us, and yet in some fear she might be +helping malefactors; and so now I determined to step in myself +and to allay her scruples with a portion of the truth. + +"Did ever you, hear" said I, "of Mr. Rankeillor of the Ferry?" + +"Rankeillor the writer?" said she. "I daur say that!" + +"Well," said I, "it's to his door that I am bound, so you may +judge by that if I am an ill-doer; and I will tell you more, that +though I am indeed, by a dreadful error, in some peril of my +life, King George has no truer friend in all Scotland than +myself." + +Her face cleared up mightily at this, although Alan's darkened. + +"That's more than I would ask," said she. "Mr. Rankeillor is a +kennt man." And she bade us finish our meat, get clear of the +clachan as soon as might be, and lie close in the bit wood on the +sea-beach. "And ye can trust me," says she, "I'll find some +means to put you over." + +At this we waited for no more, but shook hands with her upon the +bargain, made short work of the puddings, and set forth again +from Limekilns as far as to the wood. It was a small piece of +perhaps a score of elders and hawthorns and a few young ashes, +not thick enough to veil us from passersby upon the road or +beach. Here we must lie, however, making the best of the brave +warm weather and the good hopes we now had of a deliverance, and +planing more particularly what remained for us to do. + +We had but one trouble all day; when a strolling piper came and +sat in the same wood with us; a red-nosed, bleareyed, drunken +dog, with a great bottle of whisky in his pocket, and a long +story of wrongs that had been done him by all sorts of persons, +from the Lord President of the Court of Session, who had denied +him justice, down to the Bailies of Inverkeithing who had given +him more of it than he desired. It was impossible but he should +conceive some suspicion of two men lying all day concealed in a +thicket and having no business to allege. As long as he stayed +there he kept us in hot water with prying questions; and after he +was gone, as he was a man not very likely to hold his tongue, we +were in the greater impatience to be gone ourselves. + +The day came to an end with the same brightness; the night fell +quiet and clear; lights came out in houses and hamlets and then, +one after another, began to be put out; but it was past eleven, +and we were long since strangely tortured with anxieties, before +we heard the grinding of oars upon the rowing-pins. At that, we +looked out and saw the lass herself coming rowing to us in a +boat. She had trusted no one with our affairs, not even her +sweetheart, if she had one; but as soon as her father was asleep, +had left the house by a window, stolen a neighbour's boat, and +come to our assistance single-handed. + +I was abashed how to find expression for my thanks; but she was +no less abashed at the thought of hearing them; begged us to lose +no time and to hold our peace, saying (very properly) that the +heart of our matter was in haste and silence; and so, what with +one thing and another, she had set us on the Lothian shore not +far from Carriden, had shaken hands with us, and was out again at +sea and rowing for Limekilns, before there was one word said +either of her service or our gratitude. + +Even after she was gone, we had nothing to say, as indeed nothing +was enough for such a kindness. Only Alan stood a great while +upon the shore shaking his head. + +"It is a very fine lass," he said at last. "David, it is a very +fine lass." And a matter of an hour later, as we were lying in a +den on the sea-shore and I had been already dozing, he broke out +again in commendations of her character. For my part, I could +say nothing, she was so simple a creature that my heart smote me +both with remorse and fear: remorse because we had traded upon +her ignorance; and fear lest we should have anyway involved her +in the dangers of our situation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR + +The next day it was agreed that Alan should fend for himself till +sunset; but as soon as it began to grow dark, he should lie in +the fields by the roadside near to Newhalls, and stir for naught +until he heard me whistling. At first I proposed I should give +him for a signal the "Bonnie House of Airlie," which was a +favourite of mine; but he objected that as the piece was very +commonly known, any ploughman might whistle it by accident; and +taught me instead a little fragment of a Highland air, which has +run in my head from that day to this, and will likely run in my +head when I lie dying. Every time it comes to me, it takes me off +to that last day of my uncertainty, with Alan sitting up in the +bottom of the den, whistling and beating the measure with a +finger, and the grey of the dawn coming on his face. + +I was in the long street of Queensferry before the sun was up. It +was a fairly built burgh, the houses of good stone, many slated; +the town-hall not so fine, I thought, as that of Peebles, nor yet +the street so noble; but take it altogether, it put me to shame +for my foul tatters. + + + +As the morning went on, and the fires began to be kindled, and +the windows to open, and the people to appear out of the houses, +my concern and despondency grew ever the blacker. I saw now that +I had no grounds to stand upon; and no clear proof of my rights, +nor so much as of my own identity. If it was all a bubble, I was +indeed sorely cheated and left in a sore pass. Even if things +were as I conceived, it would in all likelihood take time to +establish my contentions; and what time had I to spare with less +than three shillings in my pocket, and a condemned, hunted man +upon my hands to ship out of the country? Truly, if my hope +broke with me, it might come to the gallows yet for both of us. +And as I continued to walk up and down, and saw people looking +askance at me upon the street or out of windows, and nudging or +speaking one to another with smiles, I began to take a fresh +apprehension: that it might be no easy matter even to come to +speech of the lawyer, far less to convince him of my story. + +For the life of me I could not muster up the courage to address +any of these reputable burghers; I thought shame even to speak +with them in such a pickle of rags and dirt; and if I had asked +for the house of such a man as Mr. Rankeillor, I suppose they +would have burst out laughing in my face. So I went up and down, +and through the street, and down to the harbour-side, like a dog +that has lost its master, with a strange gnawing in my inwards, +and every now and then a movement of despair. It grew to be high +day at last, perhaps nine in the forenoon; and I was worn with +these wanderings, and chanced to have stopped in front of a very +good house on the landward side, a house with beautiful, clear +glass windows, flowering knots upon the sills, the walls +new-harled[33] and a chase-dog sitting yawning on the step like +one that was at home. Well, I was even envying this dumb brute, +when the door fell open and there issued forth a shrewd, ruddy, +kindly, consequential man in a well-powdered wig and spectacles. +I was in such a plight that no one set eyes on me once, but he +looked at me again; and this gentleman, as it proved, was so much +struck with my poor appearance that he came straight up to me and +asked me what I did. + +[33]Newly rough-cast. + + +I told him I was come to the Queensferry on business, and taking +heart of grace, asked him to direct me to the house of Mr. +Rankeillor. + +"Why," said he, "that is his house that I have just come out of; +and for a rather singular chance, I am that very man." + +"Then, sir," said I, "I have to beg the favour of an interview." + +"I do not know your name," said he, "nor yet your face." + +"My name is David Balfour," said I. + +"David Balfour?" he repeated, in rather a high tone, like one +surprised. "And where have you come from, Mr. David Balfour?" he +asked, looking me pretty drily in the face. + +"I have come from a great many strange places, sir," said I; "but +I think it would be as well to tell you where and how in a more +private manner." + +He seemed to muse awhile, holding his lip in his hand, and +looking now at me and now upon the causeway of the street. + +"Yes," says he, "that will be the best, no doubt." And he led me +back with him into his house, cried out to some one whom I could +not see that he would be engaged all morning, and brought me into +a little dusty chamber full of books and documents. Here he sate +down, and bade me be seated; though I thought he looked a little +ruefully from his clean chair to my muddy rags. "And now," says +he, "if you have any business, pray be brief and come swiftly to +the point. Nec gemino bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo --do you +understand that?" says he, with a keen look. + +"I will even do as Horace says, sir," I answered, smiling, "and +carry you in medias res." He nodded as if he was well pleased, +and indeed his scrap of Latin had been set to test me. For all +that, and though I was somewhat encouraged, the blood came in my +face when I added: "I have reason to believe myself some rights +on the estate of Shaws." + +He got a paper book out of a drawer and set it before him open. +"Well?" said he. + +But I had shot my bolt and sat speechless. + +"Come, come, Mr. Balfour," said he, "you must continue. Where +were you born?" + +"In Essendean, sir," said I, "the year 1733, the 12th of March." + +He seemed to follow this statement in his paper book; but what +that meant I knew not. "Your father and mother?" said he. + +"My father was Alexander Balfour, schoolmaster of that place," +said I, "and my mother Grace Pitarrow; I think her people were +from Angus." + +"Have you any papers proving your identity?" asked Mr. +Rankeillor. + +"No, sir," said I, "but they are in the hands of Mr. Campbell, +the minister, and could be readily produced. Mr. Campbell, too, +would give me his word; and for that matter, I do not think my +uncle would deny me." + +"Meaning Mr. Ebenezer Balfour?" says he. + +"The same," said I. + +"Whom you have seen?" he asked. + +"By whom I was received into his own house," I answered. + +"Did you ever meet a man of the name of Hoseason?" asked Mr. +Rankeillor. + +"I did so, sir, for my sins," said I; "for it was by his means +and the procurement of my uncle, that I was kidnapped within +sight of this town, carried to sea, suffered shipwreck and a +hundred other hardships, and stand before you to-day in this poor +accoutrement." + +"You say you were shipwrecked," said Rankeillor; "where was +that?" + +"Off the south end of the Isle of Mull," said I. "The name of the +isle on which I was cast up is the Island Earraid." + +"Ah!" says he, smiling, "you are deeper than me in the geography. +But so far, I may tell you, this agrees pretty exactly with other +informations that I hold. But you say you were kidnapped; in what +sense?" + +"In the plain meaning of the word, sir," said I. "I was on my way +to your house, when I was trepanned on board the brig, cruelly +struck down, thrown below, and knew no more of anything till we +were far at sea. I was destined for the plantations; a fate that, +in God's providence, I have escaped." + +"The brig was lost on June the 27th," says he, looking in his +book," and we are now at August the 24th. Here is a considerable +hiatus, Mr. Balfour, of near upon two months. It has already +caused a vast amount of trouble to your friends; and I own I +shall not be very well contented until it is set right." + +"Indeed, sir," said I, "these months are very easily filled up; +but yet before I told my story, I would be glad to know that I +was talking to a friend." + +"This is to argue in a circle," said the lawyer. "I cannot be +convinced till I have heard you. I cannot be your friend till I +am properly informed. If you were more trustful, it would better +befit your time of life. And you know, Mr. Balfour, we have a +proverb in the country that evil-doers are aye evil-dreaders." + +"You are not to forget, sir," said I, "that I have already +suffered by my trustfulness; and was shipped off to be a slave by +the very man that (if I rightly understand) is your employer?" + +All this while I had been gaining ground with Mr. Rankeillor, and +in proportion as I gained ground, gaining confidence. But at +this sally, which I made with something of a smile myself, he +fairly laughed aloud. + +"No, no," said he, "it is not so bad as that. Fui, non sum. I +was indeed your uncle's man of business; but while you (imberbis +juvenis custode remoto) were gallivanting in the west, a good +deal of water has run under the bridges; and if your ears did not +sing, it was not for lack of being talked about. On the very day +of your sea disaster, Mr. Campbell stalked into my office, +demanding you from all the winds. I had never heard of your +existence; but I had known your father; and from matters in my +competence (to be touched upon hereafter) I was disposed to fear +the worst. Mr. Ebenezer admitted having seen you; declared (what +seemed improbable) that he had given you considerable sums; and +that you had started for the continent of Europe, intending to +fulfil your education, which was probable and praiseworthy. +Interrogated how you had come to send no word to Mr. Campbell, he +deponed that you had expressed a great desire to break with your +past life. Further interrogated where you now were, protested +ignorance, but believed you were in Leyden. That is a close sum +of his replies. I am not exactly sure that any one believed +him," continued Mr. Rankeillor with a smile; "and in particular +he so much disrelished me expressions of mine that (in a word) he +showed me to the door. We were then at a full stand; for +whatever shrewd suspicions we might entertain, we had no shadow +of probation. In the very article, comes Captain Hoseason with +the story of your drowning; whereupon all fell through; with no +consequences but concern to Mr. Campbell, injury to my pocket, +and another blot upon your uncle's character, which could very +ill afford it. And now, Mr. Balfour," said he, "you understand +the whole process of these matters, and can judge for yourself to +what extent I may be trusted." + +Indeed he was more pedantic than I can represent him, and placed +more scraps of Latin in his speech; but it was all uttered with a +fine geniality of eye and manner which went far to conquer my +distrust. Moreover, I could see he now treated me as if I was +myself beyond a doubt; so that first point of my identity seemed +fully granted. + +"Sir," said I, "if I tell you my story, I must commit a friend's +life to your discretion. Pass me your word it shall be sacred; +and for what touches myself, I will ask no better guarantee than +just your face." + +He passed me his word very seriously. "But," said he, "these are +rather alarming prolocutions; and if there are in your story any +little jostles to the law, I would beg you to bear in mind that I +am a lawyer, and pass lightly." + +Thereupon I told him my story from the first, he listening with +his spectacles thrust up and his eyes closed, so that I sometimes +feared he was asleep. But no such matter! he heard every word +(as I found afterward) with such quickness of hearing and +precision of memory as often surprised me. Even strange +outlandish Gaelic names, heard for that time only, he remembered +and would remind me of, years after. Yet when I called Alan +Breck in full, we had an odd scene. The name of Alan had of +course rung through Scotland, with the news of the Appin murder +and the offer of the reward; and it had no sooner escaped me than +the lawyer moved in his seat and opened his eyes. + +"I would name no unnecessary names, Mr. Balfour," said he; "above +all of Highlanders, many of whom are obnoxious to the law." + +"Well, it might have been better not," said I, "but since I have +let it slip, I may as well continue." + +"Not at all," said Mr. Rankeillor. "I am somewhat dull of +hearing, as you may have remarked; and I am far from sure I +caught the name exactly. We will call your friend, if you +please, Mr. Thomson -- that there may be no reflections. And in +future, I would take some such way with any Highlander that you +may have to mention -- dead or alive." + +By this, I saw he must have heard the name all too clearly, and +had already guessed I might be coming to the murder. If he chose +to play this part of ignorance, it was no matter of mine; so I +smiled, said it was no very Highland-sounding name, and +consented. Through all the rest of my story Alan was Mr. +Thomson; which amused me the more, as it was a piece of policy +after his own heart. James Stewart, in like manner, was +mentioned under the style of Mr. Thomson's kinsman; Colin +Campbell passed as a Mr. Glen; and to Cluny, when I came to that +part of my tale, I gave the name of "Mr. Jameson, a Highland +chief." It was truly the most open farce, and I wondered that +the lawyer should care to keep it up; but, after all, it was +quite in the taste of that age, when there were two parties in +the state, and quiet persons, with no very high opinions of their +own, sought out every cranny to avoid offence to either. + +"Well, well," said the lawyer, when I had quite done, "this is a +great epic, a great Odyssey of yours. You must tell it, sir, in +a sound Latinity when your scholarship is riper; or in English if +you please, though for my part I prefer the stronger tongue. You +have rolled much; quae regio in terris -- what parish in Scotland +(to make a homely translation) has not been filled with your +wanderings? You have shown, besides, a singular aptitude for +getting into false positions; and, yes, upon the whole, for +behaving well in them. This Mr. Thomson seems to me a gentleman +of some choice qualities, though perhaps a trifle bloody-minded. +It would please me none the worse, if (with all his merits) he +were soused in the North Sea, for the man, Mr. David, is a sore +embarrassment. But you are doubtless quite right to adhere to +him; indubitably, he adhered to you. It comes -- we may say -- +he was your true companion; nor less paribus curis vestigia +figit, for I dare say you would both take an orra thought upon +the gallows. Well, well, these days are fortunately, by; and I +think (speaking humanly) that you are near the end of your +troubles." + +As he thus moralised on my adventures, he looked upon me with so +much humour and benignity that I could scarce contain my +satisfaction. I had been so long wandering with lawless people, +and making my bed upon the hills and under the bare sky, that to +sit once more in a clean, covered house, and to talk amicably +with a gentleman in broadcloth, seemed mighty elevations. Even +as I thought so, my eye fell on my unseemly tatters, and I was +once more plunged in confusion. But the lawyer saw and +understood me. He rose, called over the stair to lay another +plate, for Mr. Balfour would stay to dinner, and led me into a +bedroom in the upper part of the house. Here he set before me +water and soap, and a comb; and laid out some clothes that +belonged to his son; and here, with another apposite tag, he left +me to my toilet. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE + +I made what change I could in my appearance; and blithe was I to +look in the glass and find the beggarman a thing of the past, and +David Balfour come to life again. And yet I was ashamed of the +change too, and, above all, of the borrowed clothes. When I had +done, Mr. Rankeillor caught me on the stair, made me his +compliments, and had me again into the cabinet. + +"Sit ye down, Mr. David," said he, "and now that you are looking +a little more like yourself, let me see if I can find you any +news. You will be wondering, no doubt, about your father and +your uncle? To be sure it is a singular tale; and the +explanation is one that I blush to have to offer you. For," says +he, really with embarrassment, "the matter hinges on a love +affair." + +"Truly," said I, "I cannot very well join that notion with my +uncle." + +"But your uncle, Mr. David, was not always old," replied the +lawyer, "and what may perhaps surprise you more, not always ugly. +He had a fine, gallant air; people stood in their doors to look +after him, as he went by upon a mettle horse. I have seen it with +these eyes, and I ingenuously confess, not altogether without +envy; for I was a plain lad myself and a plain man's son; and in +those days it was a case of Odi te, qui bellus es, Sabelle." + +"It sounds like a dream," said I. + +"Ay, ay," said the lawyer, "that is how it is with youth and age. +Nor was that all, but he had a spirit of his own that seemed to +promise great things in the future. In 1715, what must he do but +run away to join the rebels? It was your father that pursued +him, found him in a ditch, and brought him back multum gementem; +to the mirth of the whole country. However, majora canamus -- +the two lads fell in love, and that with the same lady. Mr. +Ebenezer, who was the admired and the beloved, and the spoiled +one, made, no doubt, mighty certain of the victory; and when he +found he had deceived himself, screamed like a peacock. The +whole country heard of it; now he lay sick at home, with his +silly family standing round the bed in tears; now he rode from +public-house to public-house, and shouted his sorrows into the +lug of Tom, Dick, and Harry. Your father, Mr. David, was a kind +gentleman; but he was weak, dolefully weak; took all this folly +with a long countenance; and one day -- by your leave! -- +resigned the lady. She was no such fool, however; it's from her +you must inherit your excellent good sense; and she refused to be +bandied from one to another. Both got upon their knees to her; +and the upshot of the matter for that while was that she showed +both of them the door. That was in August; dear me! the same +year I came from college. The scene must have been highly +farcical." + +I thought myself it was a silly business, but I could not forget +my father had a hand in it. "Surely, sir, it had some note of +tragedy," said I. + +"Why, no, sir, not at all," returned the lawyer. "For tragedy +implies some ponderable matter in dispute, some dignus vindice +nodus; and this piece of work was all about the petulance of a +young ass that had been spoiled, and wanted nothing so much as to +be tied up and soundly belted. However, that was not your +father's view; and the end of it was, that from concession to +concession on your father's part, and from one height to another +of squalling, sentimental selfishness upon your uncle's, they +came at last to drive a sort of bargain, from whose ill results +you have recently been smarting. The one man took the lady, the +other the estate. Now, Mr. David, they talk a great deal of +charity and generosity; but in this disputable state of life, I +often think the happiest consequences seem to flow when a +gentleman consults his lawyer, and takes all the law allows him. +Anyhow, this piece of Quixotry on your father's part, as it was +unjust in itself, has brought forth a monstrous family of +injustices. Your father and mother lived and died poor folk; you +were poorly reared; and in the meanwhile, what a time it has been +for the tenants on the estate of Shaws! And I might add (if it +was a matter I cared much about) what a time for Mr. Ebenezer!" + +"And yet that is certainly the strangest part of all," said I, +"that a man's nature should thus change." + +"True," said Mr. Rankeillor. "And yet I imagine it was natural +enough. He could not think that he had played a handsome part. +Those who knew the story gave him the cold shoulder; those who +knew it not, seeing one brother disappear, and the other succeed +in the estate, raised a cry of murder; so that upon all sides he +found himself evited. Money was all he got by his bargain; well, +he came to think the more of money. He was selfish when he was +young, he is selfish now that he is old; and the latter end of +all these pretty manners and fine feelings you have seen for +yourself." + +"Well, sir," said I, "and in all this, what is my position?" + +"The estate is yours beyond a doubt," replied the lawyer. "It +matters nothing what your father signed, you are the heir of +entail. But your uncle is a man to fight the indefensible; and +it would be likely your identity that he would call in question. +A lawsuit is always expensive, and a family lawsuit always +scandalous; besides which, if any of your doings with your friend +Mr. Thomson were to come out, we might find that we had burned +our fingers. The kidnapping, to be sure, would be a court card +upon our side, if we could only prove it. But it may be difficult +to prove; and my advice (upon the whole) is to make a very easy +bargain with your uncle, perhaps even leaving him at Shaws where +he has taken root for a quarter of a century, and contenting +yourself in the meanwhile with a fair provision." + +I told him I was very willing to be easy, and that to carry +family concerns before the public was a step from which I was +naturally much averse. In the meantime (thinking to myself) I +began to see the outlines of that scheme on which we afterwards +acted. + +"The great affair," I asked, "is to bring home to him the +kidnapping?" + +"Surely," said Mr. Rankeillor, "and if possible, out of court. +For mark you here, Mr. David: we could no doubt find some men of +the Covenant who would swear to your reclusion; but once they +were in the box, we could no longer check their testimony, and +some word of your friend Mr. Thomson must certainly crop out. +Which (from what you have let fall) I cannot think to be +desirable." + +"Well, sir," said I, "here is my way of it." And I opened my +plot to him. + +"But this would seem to involve my meeting the man Thomson?" +says he, when I had done. + +"I think so, indeed, sir," said I. + +"Dear doctor!" cries he, rubbing his brow. "Dear doctor! No, +Mr. David, I am afraid your scheme is inadmissible. I say +nothing against your friend, Mr. Thomson: I know nothing against +him; and if I did -- mark this, Mr. David! -- it would be my duty +to lay hands on him. Now I put it to you: is it wise to meet? +He may have matters to his charge. He may not have told you all. +His name may not be even Thomson!" cries the lawyer, twinkling; +"for some of these fellows will pick up names by the roadside as +another would gather haws." + +"You must be the judge, sir," said I. + +But it was clear my plan had taken hold upon his fancy, for he +kept musing to himself till we were called to dinner and the +company of Mrs. Rankeillor; and that lady had scarce left us +again to ourselves and a bottle of wine, ere he was back harping +on my proposal. When and where was I to meet my friend Mr. +Thomson; was I sure of Mr. T.'s discretion; supposing we could +catch the old fox tripping, would I consent to such and such a +term of an agreement -- these and the like questions he kept +asking at long intervals, while he thoughtfully rolled his wine +upon his tongue. When I had answered all of them, seemingly to +his contentment, he fell into a still deeper muse, even the +claret being now forgotten. Then he got a sheet of paper and a +pencil, and set to work writing and weighing every word; and at +last touched a bell and had his clerk into the chamber. + +"Torrance," said he, "I must have this written out fair against +to-night; and when it is done, you will be so kind as put on your +hat and be ready to come along with this gentleman and me, for +you will probably be wanted as a witness." + +"What, sir," cried I, as soon as the clerk was gone, "are you to +venture it?" + +"Why, so it would appear," says he, filling his glass. "But let +us speak no more of business. The very sight of Torrance brings +in my head a little droll matter of some years ago, when I had +made a tryst with the poor oaf at the cross of Edinburgh. Each +had gone his proper errand; and when it came four o'clock, +Torrance had been taking a glass and did not know his master, and +I, who had forgot my spectacles, was so blind without them, that +I give you my word I did not know my own clerk." And thereupon +he laughed heartily. + +I said it was an odd chance, and smiled out of politeness; but +what held me all the afternoon in wonder, he kept returning and +dwelling on this story, and telling it again with fresh details +and laughter; so that I began at last to be quite put out of +countenance and feel ashamed for my friend's folly. + +Towards the time I had appointed with Alan, we set out from the +house, Mr. Rankeillor and I arm in arm, and Torrance following +behind with the deed in his pocket and a covered basket in his +hand. All through the town, the lawyer was bowing right and +left, and continually being button-holed by gentlemen on matters +of burgh or private business; and I could see he was one greatly +looked up to in the county. At last we were clear of the houses, +and began to go along the side of the haven and towards the Hawes +Inn and the Ferry pier, the scene of my misfortune. I could not +look upon the place without emotion, recalling how many that had +been there with me that day were now no more: Ransome taken, I +could hope, from the evil to come; Shuan passed where I dared not +follow him; and the poor souls that had gone down with the brig +in her last plunge. All these, and the brig herself, I had +outlived; and come through these hardships and fearful perils +without scath. My only thought should have been of gratitude; +and yet I could not behold the place without sorrow for others +and a chill of recollected fear. + +I was so thinking when, upon a sudden, Mr. Rankeillor cried out, +clapped his hand to his pockets, and began to laugh. + +"Why," he cries, "if this be not a farcical adventure! After all +that I said, I have forgot my glasses!" + +At that, of course, I understood the purpose of his anecdote, and +knew that if he had left his spectacles at home, it had been done +on purpose, so that he might have the benefit of Alan's help +without the awkwardness of recognising him. And indeed it was +well thought upon; for now (suppose things to go the very worst) +how could Rankeillor swear to my friend's identity, or how be +made to bear damaging evidence against myself? For all that, he +had been a long while of finding out his want, and had spoken to +and recognised a good few persons as we came through the town; +and I had little doubt myself that he saw reasonably well. + +As soon as we were past the Hawes (where I recognised the +landlord smoking his pipe in the door, and was amazed to see him +look no older) Mr. Rankeillor changed the order of march, walking +behind with Torrance and sending me forward in the manner of a +scout. I went up the hill, whistling from time to time my Gaelic +air; and at length I had the pleasure to hear it answered and to +see Alan rise from behind a bush. He was somewhat dashed in +spirits, having passed a long day alone skulking in the county, +and made but a poor meal in an alehouse near Dundas. But at the +mere sight of my clothes, he began to brighten up; and as soon as +I had told him in what a forward state our matters were and the +part I looked to him to play in what remained, he sprang into a +new man. + +"And that is a very good notion of yours," says he; "and I dare +to say that you could lay your hands upon no better man to put it +through than Alan Breck. It is not a thing (mark ye) that any +one could do, but takes a gentleman of penetration. But it +sticks in my head your lawyer-man will be somewhat wearying to +see me," says Alan. + +Accordingly I cried and waved on Mr. Rankeillor, who came up +alone and was presented to my friend, Mr. Thomson. + +"Mr. Thomson, I am pleased to meet you," said he. "But I have +forgotten my glasses; and our friend, Mr. David here" (clapping +me on the shoulder), "will tell you that I am little better than +blind, and that you must not be surprised if I pass you by +to-morrow." + +This he said, thinking that Alan would be pleased; but the +Highlandman's vanity was ready to startle at a less matter than +that. + +"Why, sir," says he, stiffly, "I would say it mattered the less +as we are met here for a particular end, to see justice done to +Mr. Balfour; and by what I can see, not very likely to have much +else in common. But I accept your apology, which was a very +proper one to make." + +"And that is more than I could look for, Mr. Thomson," said +Rankeillor, heartily. "And now as you and I are the chief actors +in this enterprise, I think we should come into a nice agreement; +to which end, I propose that you should lend me your arm, for +(what with the dusk and the want of my glasses) I am not very +clear as to the path; and as for you, Mr. David, you will find +Torrance a pleasant kind of body to speak with. Only let me +remind you, it's quite needless he should hear more of your +adventures or those of -- ahem -- Mr. Thomson." + +Accordingly these two went on ahead in very close talk, and +Torrance and I brought up the rear. + +Night was quite come when we came in view of the house of Shaws. +Ten had been gone some time; it was dark and mild, with a +pleasant, rustling wind in the south-west that covered the sound +of our approach; and as we drew near we saw no glimmer of light +in any portion of the building. It seemed my uncle was Already +in bed, which was indeed the best thing for our arrangements. We +made our last whispered consultations some fifty yards away; and +then the lawyer and Torrance and I crept quietly up and crouched +down beside the corner of the house; and as soon as we were in +our places, Alan strode to the door without concealment and began +to knock. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +I COME INTO MY KINGDOM + +For some time Alan volleyed upon the door, and his knocking only +roused the echoes of the house and neighbourhood. At last, +however, I could hear the noise of a window gently thrust up, and +knew that my uncle had come to his observatory. By what light +there was, he would see Alan standing, like a dark shadow, on the +steps; the three witnesses were hidden quite out of his view; so +that there was nothing to alarm an honest man in his own house. +For all that, he studied his visitor awhile in silence, and when +he spoke his voice had a quaver of misgiving. + +"What's this?" says he. "This is nae kind of time of night for +decent folk; and I hae nae trokings[34] wi' night-hawks. What +brings ye here? I have a blunderbush." + +[34]Dealings. + + +"Is that yoursel', Mr. Balfour?" returned Alan, stepping back and +looking up into the darkness. "Have a care of that blunderbuss; +they're nasty things to burst." + +"What brings ye here? and whae are ye?" says my uncle, angrily. + +"I have no manner of inclination to rowt out my name to the +country-side," said Alan; "but what brings me here is another +story, being more of your affair than mine; and if ye're sure +it's what ye would like, I'll set it to a tune and sing it to +you." + +"And what is't?" asked my uncle. + +"David," says Alan. + +"What was that?" cried my uncle, in a mighty changed voice. + +"Shall I give ye the rest of the name, then?" said Alan. + +There was a pause; and then, "I'm thinking I'll better let ye +in," says my uncle, doubtfully. + +"I dare say that," said Alan; "but the point is, Would I go? Now +I will tell you what I am thinking. I am thinking that it is +here upon this doorstep that we must confer upon this business; +and it shall be here or nowhere at all whatever; for I would have +you to understand that I am as stiffnecked as yoursel', and a +gentleman of better family." + +This change of note disconcerted Ebenezer; he was a little while +digesting it, and then says he, "Weel, weel, what must be must," +and shut the window. But it took him a long time to get +down-stairs, and a still longer to undo the fastenings, repenting +(I dare say) and taken with fresh claps of fear at every second +step and every bolt and bar. At last, however, we heard the +creak of the hinges, and it seems my uncle slipped gingerly out +and (seeing that Alan had stepped back a pace or two) sate him +down on the top doorstep with the blunderbuss ready in his hands. + +"And, now" says he, "mind I have my blunderbush, and if ye take a +step nearer ye're as good as deid." + +"And a very civil speech," says Alan, "to be sure." + +"Na," says my uncle, "but this is no a very chanty kind of a +proceeding, and I'm bound to be prepared. And now that we +understand each other, ye'll can name your business." + +"Why," says Alan, "you that are a man of so much understanding, +will doubtless have perceived that I am a Hieland gentleman. My +name has nae business in my story; but the county of my friends +is no very far from the Isle of Mull, of which ye will have +heard. It seems there was a ship lost in those parts; and the +next day a gentleman of my family was seeking wreck-wood for his +fire along the sands, when he came upon a lad that was half +drowned. Well, he brought him to; and he and some other +gentleman took and clapped him in an auld, ruined castle, where +from that day to this he has been a great expense to my friends. +My friends are a wee wild-like, and not so particular about the +law as some that I could name; and finding that the lad owned +some decent folk, and was your born nephew, Mr. Balfour, they +asked me to give ye a bit call and confer upon the matter. And I +may tell ye at the off-go, unless we can agree upon some terms, +ye are little likely to set eyes upon him. For my friends," +added Alan, simply, "are no very well off." + +My uncle cleared his throat. "I'm no very caring," says he. "He +wasnae a good lad at the best of it, and I've nae call to +interfere." + +"Ay, ay," said Alan, "I see what ye would be at: pretending ye +don't care, to make the ransom smaller." + +"Na," said my uncle, "it's the mere truth. I take nae manner of +interest in the lad, and I'll pay nae ransome, and ye can make a +kirk and a mill of him for what I care." + +"Hoot, sir," says Alan. "Blood's thicker than water, in the +deil's name! Ye cannae desert your brother's son for the fair +shame of it; and if ye did, and it came to be kennt, ye wouldnae +be very popular in your country-side, or I'm the more deceived." + +"I'm no just very popular the way it is," returned Ebenezer; "and +I dinnae see how it would come to be kennt. No by me, onyway; +nor yet by you or your friends. So that's idle talk, my buckie," +says he. + +"Then it'll have to be David that tells it," said Alan. + +"How that?" says my uncle, sharply." + +"Ou, just this, way" says Alan. "My friends would doubtless keep +your nephew as long as there was any likelihood of siller to be +made of it, but if there was nane, I am clearly of opinion they +would let him gang where he pleased, and be damned to him!" + +"Ay, but I'm no very caring about that either," said my uncle. +"I wouldnae be muckle made up with that." + +"I was thinking that," said Alan. + +"And what for why?" asked Ebenezer. + +"Why, Mr. Balfour," replied Alan, "by all that I could hear, +there were two ways of it: either ye liked David and would pay to +get him back; or else ye had very good reasons for not wanting +him, and would pay for us to keep him. It seems it's not the +first; well then, it's the second; and blythe am I to ken it, for +it should be a pretty penny in my pocket and the pockets of my +friends." + +"I dinnae follow ye there," said my uncle. + +"No?" said Alan. "Well, see here: you dinnae want the lad back; +well, what do ye want done with him, and how much will ye pay?" + +My uncle made no answer, but shifted uneasily on his seat. + +"Come, sir," cried Alan. "I would have you to ken that I am a +gentleman; I bear a king's name; I am nae rider to kick my shanks +at your hall door. Either give me an answer in civility, and +that out of hand; or by the top of Glencoe, I will ram three feet +of iron through your vitals." + +"Eh, man," cried my uncle, scrambling to his feet, "give me a +meenit! What's like wrong with ye? I'm just a plain man and nae +dancing master; and I'm tryin to be as ceevil as it's morally +possible. As for that wild talk, it's fair disrepitable. +Vitals, says you! And where would I be with my blunderbush?" he +snarled. + +"Powder and your auld hands are but as the snail to the swallow +against the bright steel in the hands of Alan," said the other. +"Before your jottering finger could find the trigger, the hilt +would dirl on your breast-bane." + +"Eh, man, whae's denying it?" said my uncle. "Pit it as ye +please, hae't your ain way; I'll do naething to cross ye. Just +tell me what like ye'll be wanting, and ye'll see that we'll can +agree fine." + +"Troth, sir," said Alan, "I ask for nothing but plain dealing. +In two words: do ye want the lad killed or kept?" + +"O, sirs!" cried Ebenezer. "O, sirs, me! that's no kind of +language!" + +"Killed or kept!" repeated Alan. + +"O, keepit, keepit!" wailed my uncle. "We'll have nae bloodshed, +if you please." + +"Well," says Alan, "as ye please; that'll be the dearer." + +"The dearer?" cries Ebenezer. "Would ye fyle your hands wi' +crime?" + +"Hoot!" said Alan, "they're baith crime, whatever! And the +killing's easier, and quicker, and surer. Keeping the lad'll be +a fashious[35] job, a fashious, kittle business." + +[35]Troublesome. + + +"I'll have him keepit, though," returned my uncle. "I never had +naething to do with onything morally wrong; and I'm no gaun to +begin to pleasure a wild Hielandman." + +"Ye're unco scrupulous," sneered Alan. + +"I'm a man o' principle," said Ebenezer, simply; "and if I have +to pay for it, I'll have to pay for it. And besides," says he, +"ye forget the lad's my brother's son." + +"Well, well," said Alan, "and now about the price. It's no very +easy for me to set a name upon it; I would first have to ken some +small matters. I would have to ken, for instance, what ye gave +Hoseason at the first off-go?" + +"Hoseason!" cries my uncle, struck aback. "What for?" + +"For kidnapping David," says Alan. + +"It's a lee, it's a black lee!" cried my uncle. "He was never +kidnapped. He leed in his throat that tauld ye that. Kidnapped? +He never was!" + +"That's no fault of mine nor yet of yours," said Alan; "nor yet +of Hoseason's, if he's a man that can be trusted." + +"What do ye mean?" cried Ebenezer. "Did Hoseason tell ye?" + +"Why, ye donnered auld runt, how else would I ken?" cried Alan. +"Hoseason and me are partners; we gang shares; so ye can see for +yoursel' what good ye can do leeing. And I must plainly say ye +drove a fool's bargain when ye let a man like the sailor-man so +far forward in your private matters. But that's past praying +for; and ye must lie on your bed the way ye made it. And the +point in hand is just this: what did ye pay him?" + +"Has he tauld ye himsel'?" asked my uncle. + +"That's my concern," said Alan. + +"Weel," said my uncle, "I dinnae care what he said, he leed, and +the solemn God's truth is this, that I gave him twenty pound. +But I'll be perfec'ly honest with ye: forby that, he was to have +the selling of the lad in Caroliny, whilk would be as muckle +mair, but no from my pocket, ye see." + +"Thank you, Mr. Thomson. That will do excellently well," said +the lawyer, stepping forward; and then mighty civilly, +"Good-evening, Mr. Balfour," said he. + +And, "Good-evening, Uncle Ebenezer," said I. + +And, "It's a braw nicht, Mr. Balfour" added Torrance. + +Never a word said my uncle, neither black nor white; but just sat +where he was on the top door-step and stared upon us like a man +turned to stone. Alan filched away his blunderbuss; and the +lawyer, taking him by the arm, plucked him up from the doorstep, +led him into the kitchen, whither we all followed, and set him +down in a chair beside the hearth, where the fire was out and +only a rush-light burning. + +There we all looked upon him for a while, exulting greatly in our +success, but yet with a sort of pity for the man's shame. + +"Come, come, Mr. Ebenezer," said the lawyer, "you must not be +down-hearted, for I promise you we shall make easy terms. In the +meanwhile give us the cellar key, and Torrance shall draw us a +bottle of your father's wine in honour of the event." Then, +turning to me and taking me by the hand, "Mr. David," says he, "I +wish you all joy in your good fortune, which I believe to be +deserved." And then to Alan, with a spice of drollery, "Mr. +Thomson, I pay you my compliment; it was most artfully conducted; +but in one point you somewhat outran my comprehension. Do I +understand your name to be James? or Charles? or is it George, +perhaps?" + +"And why should it be any of the three, sir?" quoth Alan, drawing +himself up, like one who smelt an offence. + +"Only, sir, that you mentioned a king's name," replied +Rankeillor; "and as there has never yet been a King Thomson, or +his fame at least has never come my way, I judged you must refer +to that you had in baptism." + +This was just the stab that Alan would feel keenest, and I am +free to confess he took it very ill. Not a word would he answer, +but stepped off to the far end of the kitchen, and sat down and +sulked; and it was not till I stepped after him, and gave him my +hand, and thanked him by title as the chief spring of my success, +that he began to smile a bit, and was at last prevailed upon to +join our party. + +By that time we had the fire lighted, and a bottle of wine +uncorked; a good supper came out of the basket, to which Torrance +and I and Alan set ourselves down; while the lawyer and my uncle +passed into the next chamber to consult. They stayed there +closeted about an hour; at the end of which period they had come +to a good understanding, and my uncle and I set our hands to the +agreement in a formal manner. By the terms of this, my uncle +bound himself to satisfy Rankeillor as to his intromissions, and +to pay me two clear thirds of the yearly income of Shaws. + +So the beggar in the ballad had come home; and when I lay down +that night on the kitchen chests, I was a man of means and had a +name in the country. Alan and Torrance and Rankeillor slept and +snored on their hard beds; but for me who had lain out under +heaven and upon dirt and stones, so many days and nights, and +often with an empty belly, and in fear of death, this good change +in my case unmanned me more than any of the former evil ones; and +I lay till dawn, looking at the fire on the roof and planning the +future. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +GOOD-BYE + +So far as I was concerned myself, I had come to port; but I had +still Alan, to whom I was so much beholden, on my hands; and I +felt besides a heavy charge in the matter of the murder and James +of the Glens. On both these heads I unbosomed to Rankeillor the +next morning, walking to and fro about six of the clock before +the house of Shaws, and with nothing in view but the fields and +woods that had been my ancestors' and were now mine. Even as I +spoke on these grave subjects, my eye would take a glad bit of a +run over the prospect, and my heart jump with pride. + +About my clear duty to my friend, the lawyer had no doubt. I +must help him out of the county at whatever risk; but in the case +of James, he was of a different mind. + +"Mr. Thomson," says he, "is one thing, Mr. Thomson's kinsman +quite another. I know little of the facts, but I gather that a +great noble (whom we will call, if you like, the D. of A.)[36] +has some concern and is even supposed to feel some animosity in +the matter. The D. of A. is doubtless an excellent nobleman; +but, Mr. David, timeo qui nocuere deos. If you interfere to balk +his vengeance, you should remember there is one way to shut your +testimony out; and that is to put you in the dock. There, you +would be in the same pickle as Mr. Thomson's kinsman. You will +object that you are innocent; well, but so is he. And to be +tried for your life before a Highland jury, on a Highland quarrel +and with a Highland Judge upon the bench, would be a brief +transition to the gallows." + +[36]The Duke of Argyle. + + +Now I had made all these reasonings before and found no very good +reply to them; so I put on all the simplicity I could. "In that +case, sir," said I, "I would just have to be hanged -- would I +not?" + +"My dear boy," cries he, "go in God's name, and do what you think +is right. It is a poor thought that at my time of life I should +be advising you to choose the safe and shameful; and I take it +back with an apology. Go and do your duty; and be hanged, if you +must, like a gentleman. There are worse things in the world than +to be hanged." + +"Not many, sir," said I, smiling. + +"Why, yes, sir," he cried, "very many. And it would be ten times +better for your uncle (to go no farther afield) if he were +dangling decently upon a gibbet." + +Thereupon he turned into the house (still in a great fervour of +mind, so that I saw I had pleased him heartily) and there he +wrote me two letters, making his comments on them as he wrote. + +"This," says he, "is to my bankers, the British Linen Company, +placing a credit to your name. Consult Mr. Thomson, he will know +of ways; and you, with this credit, can supply the means. I +trust you will be a good husband of your money; but in the affair +of a friend like Mr. Thompson, I would be even prodigal. Then +for his kinsman, there is no better way than that you should seek +the Advocate, tell him your tale, and offer testimony; whether he +may take it or not, is quite another matter, and will turn on the +D. of A. Now, that you may reach the Lord Advocate well +recommended, I give you here a letter to a namesake of your own, +the learned Mr. Balfour of Pilrig, a man whom I esteem. It will +look better that you should be presented by one of your own name; +and the laird of Pilrig is much looked up to in the Faculty and +stands well with Lord Advocate Grant. I would not trouble him, +if I were you, with any particulars; and (do you know?) I think +it would be needless to refer to Mr. Thomson. Form yourself upon +the laird, he is a good model; when you deal with the Advocate, +be discreet; and in all these matters, may the Lord guide you, +Mr. David!" + +Thereupon he took his farewell, and set out with Torrance for the +Ferry, while Alan and I turned our faces for the city of +Edinburgh. As we went by the footpath and beside the gateposts +and the unfinished lodge, we kept looking back at the house of my +fathers. It stood there, bare and great and smokeless, like a +place not lived in; only in one of the top windows, there was the +peak of a nightcap bobbing up and down and back and forward, like +the head of a rabbit from a burrow. I had little welcome when I +came, and less kindness while I stayed; but at least I was +watched as I went away. + +Alan and I went slowly forward upon our way, having little heart +either to walk or speak. The same thought was uppermost in both, +that we were near the time of our parting; and remembrance of all +the bygone days sate upon us sorely. We talked indeed of what +should be done; and it was resolved that Alan should keep to the +county, biding now here, now there, but coming once in the day to +a particular place where I might be able to communicate with him, +either in my own person or by messenger. In the meanwhile, I was +to seek out a lawyer, who was an Appin Stewart, and a man +therefore to be wholly trusted; and it should be his part to find +a ship and to arrange for Alan's safe embarkation. No sooner was +this business done, than the words seemed to leave us; and though +I would seek to jest with Alan under the name of Mr. Thomson, and +he with me on my new clothes and my estate, you could feel very +well that we were nearer tears than laughter. + +We came the by-way over the hill of Corstorphine; and when we got +near to the place called Rest-and-be-Thankful, and looked down on +Corstorphine bogs and over to the city and the castle on the +hill, we both stopped, for we both knew without a word said that +we had come to where our ways parted. Here he repeated to me +once again what had been agreed upon between us: the address of +the lawyer, the daily hour at which Alan might be found, and the +signals that were to be made by any that came seeking him. Then +I gave what money I had (a guinea or two of Rankeillor's) so that +he should not starve in the meanwhile; and then we stood a space, +and looked over at Edinburgh in silence. + +"Well, good-bye," said Alan, and held out his left hand. + +"Good-bye," said I, and gave the hand a little grasp, and went +off down hill. + +Neither one of us looked the other in the face, nor so long as he +was in my view did I take one back glance at the friend I was +leaving. But as I went on my way to the city, I felt so lost and +lonesome, that I could have found it in my heart to sit down by +the dyke, and cry and weep like any baby. + +It was coming near noon when I passed in by the West Kirk and the +Grassmarket into the streets of the capital. The huge height of +the buildings, running up to ten and fifteen storeys, the narrow +arched entries that continually vomited passengers, the wares of +the merchants in their windows, the hubbub and endless stir, the +foul smells and the fine clothes, and a hundred other particulars +too small to mention, struck me into a kind of stupor of +surprise, so that I let the crowd carry me to and fro; and yet +all the time what I was thinking of was Alan at +Rest-and-be-Thankful; and all the time (although you would think +I would not choose but be delighted with these braws and +novelties) there was a cold gnawing in my inside like a remorse +for something wrong. + +The hand of Providence brought me in my drifting to the very +doors of the British Linen Company's bank. + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Kidnapped by R. L. Stevenson + diff --git a/old/kdnpd10.zip b/old/kdnpd10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..946e762 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/kdnpd10.zip diff --git a/old/old-2024-03-11/421-0.txt b/old/old-2024-03-11/421-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f91e5ff --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old-2024-03-11/421-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8815 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Kidnapped, by Robert Louis Stevenson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Kidnapped + +Author: Robert Louis Stevenson + +Release Date: January 16, 2006 [EBook #421] +Last Updated: September 14, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KIDNAPPED *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + + + + + + KIDNAPPED + BEING + MEMOIRS OF THE ADVENTURES OF + DAVID BALFOUR + IN THE YEAR 1751 + + + + HOW HE WAS KIDNAPPED AND CAST AWAY; HIS SUFFERINGS IN + A DESERT ISLE; HIS JOURNEY IN THE WILD HIGHLANDS; + HIS ACQUAINTANCE WITH ALAN BRECK STEWART + AND OTHER NOTORIOUS HIGHLAND JACOBITES; + WITH ALL THAT HE SUFFERED AT THE + HANDS OF HIS UNCLE, EBENEZER + BALFOUR OF SHAWS, FALSELY + SO CALLED + + WRITTEN BY HIMSELF AND NOW SET FORTH BY + ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON + WITH A PREFACE BY MRS. STEVENSON + + + +PREFACE TO THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION + +While my husband and Mr. Henley were engaged in writing plays in +Bournemouth they made a number of titles, hoping to use them in the +future. Dramatic composition was not what my husband preferred, but +the torrent of Mr. Henley’s enthusiasm swept him off his feet. However, +after several plays had been finished, and his health seriously impaired +by his endeavours to keep up with Mr. Henley, play writing was abandoned +forever, and my husband returned to his legitimate vocation. Having +added one of the titles, The Hanging Judge, to the list of projected +plays, now thrown aside, and emboldened by my husband’s offer to give me +any help needed, I concluded to try and write it myself. + +As I wanted a trial scene in the Old Bailey, I chose the period of 1700 +for my purpose; but being shamefully ignorant of my subject, and my +husband confessing to little more knowledge than I possessed, a London +bookseller was commissioned to send us everything he could procure +bearing on Old Bailey trials. A great package came in response to our +order, and very soon we were both absorbed, not so much in the trials +as in following the brilliant career of a Mr. Garrow, who appeared as +counsel in many of the cases. We sent for more books, and yet more, +still intent on Mr. Garrow, whose subtle cross-examination of witnesses +and masterly, if sometimes startling, methods of arriving at the truth +seemed more thrilling to us than any novel. + +Occasionally other trials than those of the Old Bailey would be included +in the package of books we received from London; among these my husband +found and read with avidity:-- + + THE + TRIAL + OF + JAMES STEWART + in Aucharn in Duror of Appin + FOR THE + Murder of COLIN CAMPBELL of Glenure, Efq; + Factor for His Majefty on the forfeited + Estate of Ardfhiel. + +My husband was always interested in this period of his country’s +history, and had already the intention of writing a story that should +turn on the Appin murder. The tale was to be of a boy, David Balfour, +supposed to belong to my husband’s own family, who should travel in +Scotland as though it were a foreign country, meeting with various +adventures and misadventures by the way. From the trial of James Stewart +my husband gleaned much valuable material for his novel, the most +important being the character of Alan Breck. Aside from having described +him as “smallish in stature,” my husband seems to have taken Alan +Breck’s personal appearance, even to his clothing, from the book. + +A letter from James Stewart to Mr. John Macfarlane, introduced as +evidence in the trial, says: “There is one Alan Stewart, a distant +friend of the late Ardshiel’s, who is in the French service, and came +over in March last, as he said to some, in order to settle at home; to +others, that he was to go soon back; and was, as I hear, the day that +the murder was committed, seen not far from the place where it happened, +and is not now to be seen; by which it is believed he was the actor. He +is a desperate foolish fellow; and if he is guilty, came to the country +for that very purpose. He is a tall, pock-pitted lad, very black hair, +and wore a blue coat and metal buttons, an old red vest, and breeches of +the same colour.” A second witness testified to having seen him wearing +“a blue coat with silver buttons, a red waistcoat, black shag breeches, +tartan hose, and a feathered hat, with a big coat, dun coloured,” a +costume referred to by one of the counsel as “French cloathes which were +remarkable.” + +There are many incidents given in the trial that point to Alan’s fiery +spirit and Highland quickness to take offence. One witness “declared +also That the said Alan Breck threatened that he would challenge +Ballieveolan and his sons to fight because of his removing the +declarant last year from Glenduror.” On another page: “Duncan Campbell, +change-keeper at Annat, aged thirty-five years, married, witness cited, +sworn, purged and examined ut supra, depones, That, in the month of +April last, the deponent met with Alan Breck Stewart, with whom he was +not acquainted, and John Stewart, in Auchnacoan, in the house of the +walk miller of Auchofragan, and went on with them to the house: Alan +Breck Stewart said, that he hated all the name of Campbell; and the +deponent said, he had no reason for doing so: But Alan said, he had very +good reason for it: that thereafter they left that house; and, after +drinking a dram at another house, came to the deponent’s house, where +they went in, and drunk some drams, and Alan Breck renewed the former +Conversation; and the deponent, making the same answer, Alan said, that, +if the deponent had any respect for his friends, he would tell them, +that if they offered to turn out the possessors of Ardshiel’s estate, he +would make black cocks of them, before they entered into possession by +which the deponent understood shooting them, it being a common phrase in +the country.” + +Some time after the publication of Kidnapped we stopped for a short +while in the Appin country, where we were surprised and interested to +discover that the feeling concerning the murder of Glenure (the “Red +Fox,” also called “Colin Roy”) was almost as keen as though the tragedy +had taken place the day before. For several years my husband received +letters of expostulation or commendation from members of the Campbell +and Stewart clans. I have in my possession a paper, yellow with age, +that was sent soon after the novel appeared, containing “The Pedigree of +the Family of Appine,” wherein it is said that “Alan 3rd Baron of Appine +was not killed at Flowdoun, tho there, but lived to a great old age. He +married Cameron Daughter to Ewen Cameron of Lochiel.” Following this +is a paragraph stating that “John Stewart 1st of Ardsheall of his +descendants Alan Breck had better be omitted. Duncan Baan Stewart in +Achindarroch his father was a Bastard.” + +One day, while my husband was busily at work, I sat beside him reading +an old cookery book called The Compleat Housewife: or Accomplish’d +Gentlewoman’s Companion. In the midst of receipts for “Rabbits, and +Chickens mumbled, Pickled Samphire, Skirret Pye, Baked Tansy,” and +other forgotten delicacies, there were directions for the preparation +of several lotions for the preservation of beauty. One of these was so +charming that I interrupted my husband to read it aloud. “Just what +I wanted!” he exclaimed; and the receipt for the “Lily of the Valley +Water” was instantly incorporated into Kidnapped. + +F. V. DE G. S. + + + + +DEDICATION + +MY DEAR CHARLES BAXTER: + + +If you ever read this tale, you will likely ask yourself more questions +than I should care to answer: as for instance how the Appin murder has +come to fall in the year 1751, how the Torran rocks have crept so near +to Earraid, or why the printed trial is silent as to all that touches +David Balfour. These are nuts beyond my ability to crack. But if you +tried me on the point of Alan’s guilt or innocence, I think I could +defend the reading of the text. To this day you will find the tradition +of Appin clear in Alan’s favour. If you inquire, you may even hear that +the descendants of “the other man” who fired the shot are in the country +to this day. But that other man’s name, inquire as you please, you shall +not hear; for the Highlander values a secret for itself and for the +congenial exercise of keeping it. I might go on for long to justify one +point and own another indefensible; it is more honest to confess at once +how little I am touched by the desire of accuracy. This is no furniture +for the scholar’s library, but a book for the winter evening school-room +when the tasks are over and the hour for bed draws near; and honest +Alan, who was a grim old fire-eater in his day has in this new avatar +no more desperate purpose than to steal some young gentleman’s attention +from his Ovid, carry him awhile into the Highlands and the last century, +and pack him to bed with some engaging images to mingle with his dreams. + +As for you, my dear Charles, I do not even ask you to like this tale. +But perhaps when he is older, your son will; he may then be pleased to +find his father’s name on the fly-leaf; and in the meanwhile it pleases +me to set it there, in memory of many days that were happy and some (now +perhaps as pleasant to remember) that were sad. If it is strange for +me to look back from a distance both in time and space on these bygone +adventures of our youth, it must be stranger for you who tread the same +streets--who may to-morrow open the door of the old Speculative, +where we begin to rank with Scott and Robert Emmet and the beloved and +inglorious Macbean--or may pass the corner of the close where that great +society, the L. J. R., held its meetings and drank its beer, sitting in +the seats of Burns and his companions. I think I see you, moving there +by plain daylight, beholding with your natural eyes those places that +have now become for your companion a part of the scenery of dreams. How, +in the intervals of present business, the past must echo in your memory! +Let it not echo often without some kind thoughts of your friend, + +R.L.S. SKERRYVORE, BOURNEMOUTH. + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER + + I I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + II I COME TO MY JOURNEY’S END + III I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE + IV I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + V I GO TO THE QUEEN’S FERRY + VI WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN’S FERRY + VII I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG “COVENANT” OF DYSART + VIII THE ROUND-HOUSE + IX THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD + X THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE + XI THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER + XII I HEAR OF THE “RED FOX” + XIII THE LOSS OF THE BRIG + XIV THE ISLET + XV THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL + XVI THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN + XVII THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX + XVIIII TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE + XIX THE HOUSE OF FEAR + XX THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS + XXI THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH + XXII THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR + XXIII CLUNY’S CAGE + XXIV THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE QUARREL IN BALQUHIDDER + XXVI END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH + XXVII I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR + XXVIII I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE + XXIX I COME INTO MY KINGDOM + XXX GOOD-BYE + + + +CHAPTER I + +I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + +I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in +the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the +last time out of the door of my father’s house. The sun began to shine +upon the summit of the hills as I went down the road; and by the time +I had come as far as the manse, the blackbirds were whistling in the +garden lilacs, and the mist that hung around the valley in the time of +the dawn was beginning to arise and die away. + +Mr. Campbell, the minister of Essendean, was waiting for me by the +garden gate, good man! He asked me if I had breakfasted; and hearing +that I lacked for nothing, he took my hand in both of his and clapped it +kindly under his arm. + +“Well, Davie, lad,” said he, “I will go with you as far as the ford, to +set you on the way.” And we began to walk forward in silence. + +“Are ye sorry to leave Essendean?” said he, after awhile. + +“Why, sir,” said I, “if I knew where I was going, or what was likely +to become of me, I would tell you candidly. Essendean is a good place +indeed, and I have been very happy there; but then I have never been +anywhere else. My father and mother, since they are both dead, I shall +be no nearer to in Essendean than in the Kingdom of Hungary, and, to +speak truth, if I thought I had a chance to better myself where I was +going I would go with a good will.” + +“Ay?” said Mr. Campbell. “Very well, Davie. Then it behoves me to tell +your fortune; or so far as I may. When your mother was gone, and your +father (the worthy, Christian man) began to sicken for his end, he gave +me in charge a certain letter, which he said was your inheritance. ‘So +soon,’ says he, ‘as I am gone, and the house is redd up and the gear +disposed of’ (all which, Davie, hath been done), ‘give my boy this +letter into his hand, and start him off to the house of Shaws, not far +from Cramond. That is the place I came from,’ he said, ‘and it’s where +it befits that my boy should return. He is a steady lad,’ your father +said, ‘and a canny goer; and I doubt not he will come safe, and be well +lived where he goes.’” + +“The house of Shaws!” I cried. “What had my poor father to do with the +house of Shaws?” + +“Nay,” said Mr. Campbell, “who can tell that for a surety? But the name +of that family, Davie, boy, is the name you bear--Balfours of Shaws: +an ancient, honest, reputable house, peradventure in these latter +days decayed. Your father, too, was a man of learning as befitted his +position; no man more plausibly conducted school; nor had he the manner +or the speech of a common dominie; but (as ye will yourself remember) +I took aye a pleasure to have him to the manse to meet the gentry; and +those of my own house, Campbell of Kilrennet, Campbell of Dunswire, +Campbell of Minch, and others, all well-kenned gentlemen, had pleasure +in his society. Lastly, to put all the elements of this affair before +you, here is the testamentary letter itself, superscrived by the own +hand of our departed brother.” + +He gave me the letter, which was addressed in these words: “To the hands +of Ebenezer Balfour, Esquire, of Shaws, in his house of Shaws, these +will be delivered by my son, David Balfour.” My heart was beating hard +at this great prospect now suddenly opening before a lad of seventeen +years of age, the son of a poor country dominie in the Forest of +Ettrick. + +“Mr. Campbell,” I stammered, “and if you were in my shoes, would you +go?” + +“Of a surety,” said the minister, “that would I, and without pause. +A pretty lad like you should get to Cramond (which is near in by +Edinburgh) in two days of walk. If the worst came to the worst, and +your high relations (as I cannot but suppose them to be somewhat of your +blood) should put you to the door, ye can but walk the two days back +again and risp at the manse door. But I would rather hope that ye shall +be well received, as your poor father forecast for you, and for anything +that I ken come to be a great man in time. And here, Davie, laddie,” he +resumed, “it lies near upon my conscience to improve this parting, and +set you on the right guard against the dangers of the world.” + +Here he cast about for a comfortable seat, lighted on a big boulder +under a birch by the trackside, sate down upon it with a very long, +serious upper lip, and the sun now shining in upon us between two peaks, +put his pocket-handkerchief over his cocked hat to shelter him. There, +then, with uplifted forefinger, he first put me on my guard against a +considerable number of heresies, to which I had no temptation, and urged +upon me to be instant in my prayers and reading of the Bible. That done, +he drew a picture of the great house that I was bound to, and how I +should conduct myself with its inhabitants. + +“Be soople, Davie, in things immaterial,” said he. “Bear ye this in +mind, that, though gentle born, ye have had a country rearing. Dinnae +shame us, Davie, dinnae shame us! In yon great, muckle house, with all +these domestics, upper and under, show yourself as nice, as circumspect, +as quick at the conception, and as slow of speech as any. As for the +laird--remember he’s the laird; I say no more: honour to whom honour. +It’s a pleasure to obey a laird; or should be, to the young.” + +“Well, sir,” said I, “it may be; and I’ll promise you I’ll try to make +it so.” + +“Why, very well said,” replied Mr. Campbell, heartily. “And now to come +to the material, or (to make a quibble) to the immaterial. I have here +a little packet which contains four things.” He tugged it, as he spoke, +and with some great difficulty, from the skirt pocket of his coat. “Of +these four things, the first is your legal due: the little pickle money +for your father’s books and plenishing, which I have bought (as I have +explained from the first) in the design of re-selling at a profit to +the incoming dominie. The other three are gifties that Mrs. Campbell and +myself would be blithe of your acceptance. The first, which is round, +will likely please ye best at the first off-go; but, O Davie, laddie, +it’s but a drop of water in the sea; it’ll help you but a step, and +vanish like the morning. The second, which is flat and square and +written upon, will stand by you through life, like a good staff for the +road, and a good pillow to your head in sickness. And as for the last, +which is cubical, that’ll see you, it’s my prayerful wish, into a better +land.” + +With that he got upon his feet, took off his hat, and prayed a little +while aloud, and in affecting terms, for a young man setting out into +the world; then suddenly took me in his arms and embraced me very hard; +then held me at arm’s length, looking at me with his face all working +with sorrow; and then whipped about, and crying good-bye to me, set off +backward by the way that we had come at a sort of jogging run. It might +have been laughable to another; but I was in no mind to laugh. I watched +him as long as he was in sight; and he never stopped hurrying, nor once +looked back. Then it came in upon my mind that this was all his sorrow +at my departure; and my conscience smote me hard and fast, because I, +for my part, was overjoyed to get away out of that quiet country-side, +and go to a great, busy house, among rich and respected gentlefolk of my +own name and blood. + +“Davie, Davie,” I thought, “was ever seen such black ingratitude? Can +you forget old favours and old friends at the mere whistle of a name? +Fie, fie; think shame.” + +And I sat down on the boulder the good man had just left, and opened the +parcel to see the nature of my gifts. That which he had called cubical, +I had never had much doubt of; sure enough it was a little Bible, to +carry in a plaid-neuk. That which he had called round, I found to be a +shilling piece; and the third, which was to help me so wonderfully both +in health and sickness all the days of my life, was a little piece of +coarse yellow paper, written upon thus in red ink: + + +“TO MAKE LILLY OF THE VALLEY WATER.--Take the flowers of lilly of the +valley and distil them in sack, and drink a spooneful or two as there is +occasion. It restores speech to those that have the dumb palsey. It is +good against the Gout; it comforts the heart and strengthens the memory; +and the flowers, put into a Glasse, close stopt, and set into ane hill +of ants for a month, then take it out, and you will find a liquor which +comes from the flowers, which keep in a vial; it is good, ill or well, +and whether man or woman.” + + + +And then, in the minister’s own hand, was added: + +“Likewise for sprains, rub it in; and for the cholic, a great spooneful +in the hour.” + + +To be sure, I laughed over this; but it was rather tremulous laughter; +and I was glad to get my bundle on my staff’s end and set out over the +ford and up the hill upon the farther side; till, just as I came on the +green drove-road running wide through the heather, I took my last look +of Kirk Essendean, the trees about the manse, and the big rowans in the +kirkyard where my father and my mother lay. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +I COME TO MY JOURNEY’S END + +On the forenoon of the second day, coming to the top of a hill, I saw +all the country fall away before me down to the sea; and in the midst +of this descent, on a long ridge, the city of Edinburgh smoking like +a kiln. There was a flag upon the castle, and ships moving or lying +anchored in the firth; both of which, for as far away as they were, I +could distinguish clearly; and both brought my country heart into my +mouth. + +Presently after, I came by a house where a shepherd lived, and got a +rough direction for the neighbourhood of Cramond; and so, from one to +another, worked my way to the westward of the capital by Colinton, till +I came out upon the Glasgow road. And there, to my great pleasure and +wonder, I beheld a regiment marching to the fifes, every foot in time; +an old red-faced general on a grey horse at the one end, and at the +other the company of Grenadiers, with their Pope’s-hats. The pride of +life seemed to mount into my brain at the sight of the red coats and the +hearing of that merry music. + +A little farther on, and I was told I was in Cramond parish, and began +to substitute in my inquiries the name of the house of Shaws. It was a +word that seemed to surprise those of whom I sought my way. At first I +thought the plainness of my appearance, in my country habit, and that +all dusty from the road, consorted ill with the greatness of the place +to which I was bound. But after two, or maybe three, had given me the +same look and the same answer, I began to take it in my head there was +something strange about the Shaws itself. + +The better to set this fear at rest, I changed the form of my inquiries; +and spying an honest fellow coming along a lane on the shaft of his +cart, I asked him if he had ever heard tell of a house they called the +house of Shaws. + +He stopped his cart and looked at me, like the others. + +“Ay” said he. “What for?” + +“It’s a great house?” I asked. + +“Doubtless,” says he. “The house is a big, muckle house.” + +“Ay,” said I, “but the folk that are in it?” + +“Folk?” cried he. “Are ye daft? There’s nae folk there--to call folk.” + +“What?” say I; “not Mr. Ebenezer?” + +“Ou, ay” says the man; “there’s the laird, to be sure, if it’s him +you’re wanting. What’ll like be your business, mannie?” + +“I was led to think that I would get a situation,” I said, looking as +modest as I could. + +“What?” cries the carter, in so sharp a note that his very horse +started; and then, “Well, mannie,” he added, “it’s nane of my affairs; +but ye seem a decent-spoken lad; and if ye’ll take a word from me, ye’ll +keep clear of the Shaws.” + +The next person I came across was a dapper little man in a beautiful +white wig, whom I saw to be a barber on his rounds; and knowing well +that barbers were great gossips, I asked him plainly what sort of a man +was Mr. Balfour of the Shaws. + +“Hoot, hoot, hoot,” said the barber, “nae kind of a man, nae kind of a +man at all;” and began to ask me very shrewdly what my business was; +but I was more than a match for him at that, and he went on to his next +customer no wiser than he came. + +I cannot well describe the blow this dealt to my illusions. The more +indistinct the accusations were, the less I liked them, for they left +the wider field to fancy. What kind of a great house was this, that all +the parish should start and stare to be asked the way to it? or what +sort of a gentleman, that his ill-fame should be thus current on the +wayside? If an hour’s walking would have brought me back to Essendean, I +had left my adventure then and there, and returned to Mr. Campbell’s. +But when I had come so far a way already, mere shame would not suffer me +to desist till I had put the matter to the touch of proof; I was bound, +out of mere self-respect, to carry it through; and little as I liked +the sound of what I heard, and slow as I began to travel, I still kept +asking my way and still kept advancing. + +It was drawing on to sundown when I met a stout, dark, sour-looking +woman coming trudging down a hill; and she, when I had put my usual +question, turned sharp about, accompanied me back to the summit she had +just left, and pointed to a great bulk of building standing very bare +upon a green in the bottom of the next valley. The country was pleasant +round about, running in low hills, pleasantly watered and wooded, and +the crops, to my eyes, wonderfully good; but the house itself appeared +to be a kind of ruin; no road led up to it; no smoke arose from any of +the chimneys; nor was there any semblance of a garden. My heart sank. +“That!” I cried. + +The woman’s face lit up with a malignant anger. “That is the house of +Shaws!” she cried. “Blood built it; blood stopped the building of it; +blood shall bring it down. See here!” she cried again--“I spit upon +the ground, and crack my thumb at it! Black be its fall! If ye see the +laird, tell him what ye hear; tell him this makes the twelve hunner and +nineteen time that Jennet Clouston has called down the curse on him +and his house, byre and stable, man, guest, and master, wife, miss, or +bairn--black, black be their fall!” + +And the woman, whose voice had risen to a kind of eldritch sing-song, +turned with a skip, and was gone. I stood where she left me, with my +hair on end. In those days folk still believed in witches and trembled +at a curse; and this one, falling so pat, like a wayside omen, to arrest +me ere I carried out my purpose, took the pith out of my legs. + +I sat me down and stared at the house of Shaws. The more I looked, +the pleasanter that country-side appeared; being all set with hawthorn +bushes full of flowers; the fields dotted with sheep; a fine flight of +rooks in the sky; and every sign of a kind soil and climate; and yet the +barrack in the midst of it went sore against my fancy. + +Country folk went by from the fields as I sat there on the side of the +ditch, but I lacked the spirit to give them a good-e’en. At last the sun +went down, and then, right up against the yellow sky, I saw a scroll of +smoke go mounting, not much thicker, as it seemed to me, than the smoke +of a candle; but still there it was, and meant a fire, and warmth, and +cookery, and some living inhabitant that must have lit it; and this +comforted my heart. + +So I set forward by a little faint track in the grass that led in my +direction. It was very faint indeed to be the only way to a place +of habitation; yet I saw no other. Presently it brought me to stone +uprights, with an unroofed lodge beside them, and coats of arms upon +the top. A main entrance it was plainly meant to be, but never finished; +instead of gates of wrought iron, a pair of hurdles were tied across +with a straw rope; and as there were no park walls, nor any sign of +avenue, the track that I was following passed on the right hand of the +pillars, and went wandering on toward the house. + +The nearer I got to that, the drearier it appeared. It seemed like the +one wing of a house that had never been finished. What should have been +the inner end stood open on the upper floors, and showed against the sky +with steps and stairs of uncompleted masonry. Many of the windows were +unglazed, and bats flew in and out like doves out of a dove-cote. + +The night had begun to fall as I got close; and in three of the lower +windows, which were very high up and narrow, and well barred, the +changing light of a little fire began to glimmer. Was this the palace +I had been coming to? Was it within these walls that I was to seek +new friends and begin great fortunes? Why, in my father’s house on +Essen-Waterside, the fire and the bright lights would show a mile away, +and the door open to a beggar’s knock! + +I came forward cautiously, and giving ear as I came, heard some one +rattling with dishes, and a little dry, eager cough that came in fits; +but there was no sound of speech, and not a dog barked. + +The door, as well as I could see it in the dim light, was a great piece +of wood all studded with nails; and I lifted my hand with a faint heart +under my jacket, and knocked once. Then I stood and waited. The house +had fallen into a dead silence; a whole minute passed away, and nothing +stirred but the bats overhead. I knocked again, and hearkened again. +By this time my ears had grown so accustomed to the quiet, that I +could hear the ticking of the clock inside as it slowly counted out the +seconds; but whoever was in that house kept deadly still, and must have +held his breath. + +I was in two minds whether to run away; but anger got the upper hand, +and I began instead to rain kicks and buffets on the door, and to shout +out aloud for Mr. Balfour. I was in full career, when I heard the cough +right overhead, and jumping back and looking up, beheld a man’s head +in a tall nightcap, and the bell mouth of a blunderbuss, at one of the +first-storey windows. + +“It’s loaded,” said a voice. + +“I have come here with a letter,” I said, “to Mr. Ebenezer Balfour of +Shaws. Is he here?” + +“From whom is it?” asked the man with the blunderbuss. + +“That is neither here nor there,” said I, for I was growing very wroth. + +“Well,” was the reply, “ye can put it down upon the doorstep, and be off +with ye.” + +“I will do no such thing,” I cried. “I will deliver it into Mr. +Balfour’s hands, as it was meant I should. It is a letter of +introduction.” + +“A what?” cried the voice, sharply. + +I repeated what I had said. + +“Who are ye, yourself?” was the next question, after a considerable +pause. + +“I am not ashamed of my name,” said I. “They call me David Balfour.” + +At that, I made sure the man started, for I heard the blunderbuss rattle +on the window-sill; and it was after quite a long pause, and with a +curious change of voice, that the next question followed: + +“Is your father dead?” + +I was so much surprised at this, that I could find no voice to answer, +but stood staring. + +“Ay,” the man resumed, “he’ll be dead, no doubt; and that’ll be what +brings ye chapping to my door.” Another pause, and then defiantly, +“Well, man,” he said, “I’ll let ye in;” and he disappeared from the +window. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE + +Presently there came a great rattling of chains and bolts, and the +door was cautiously opened and shut to again behind me as soon as I had +passed. + +“Go into the kitchen and touch naething,” said the voice; and while the +person of the house set himself to replacing the defences of the door, I +groped my way forward and entered the kitchen. + +The fire had burned up fairly bright, and showed me the barest room I +think I ever put my eyes on. Half-a-dozen dishes stood upon the shelves; +the table was laid for supper with a bowl of porridge, a horn spoon, and +a cup of small beer. Besides what I have named, there was not another +thing in that great, stone-vaulted, empty chamber but lockfast chests +arranged along the wall and a corner cupboard with a padlock. + +As soon as the last chain was up, the man rejoined me. He was a mean, +stooping, narrow-shouldered, clay-faced creature; and his age might have +been anything between fifty and seventy. His nightcap was of flannel, +and so was the nightgown that he wore, instead of coat and waistcoat, +over his ragged shirt. He was long unshaved; but what most distressed +and even daunted me, he would neither take his eyes away from me nor +look me fairly in the face. What he was, whether by trade or birth, was +more than I could fathom; but he seemed most like an old, unprofitable +serving-man, who should have been left in charge of that big house upon +board wages. + +“Are ye sharp-set?” he asked, glancing at about the level of my knee. +“Ye can eat that drop parritch?” + +I said I feared it was his own supper. + +“O,” said he, “I can do fine wanting it. I’ll take the ale, though, for +it slockens (moistens) my cough.” He drank the cup about half out, still +keeping an eye upon me as he drank; and then suddenly held out his hand. +“Let’s see the letter,” said he. + +I told him the letter was for Mr. Balfour; not for him. + +“And who do ye think I am?” says he. “Give me Alexander’s letter.” + +“You know my father’s name?” + +“It would be strange if I didnae,” he returned, “for he was my born +brother; and little as ye seem to like either me or my house, or my good +parritch, I’m your born uncle, Davie, my man, and you my born nephew. So +give us the letter, and sit down and fill your kyte.” + +If I had been some years younger, what with shame, weariness, and +disappointment, I believe I had burst into tears. As it was, I could +find no words, neither black nor white, but handed him the letter, and +sat down to the porridge with as little appetite for meat as ever a +young man had. + +Meanwhile, my uncle, stooping over the fire, turned the letter over and +over in his hands. + +“Do ye ken what’s in it?” he asked, suddenly. + +“You see for yourself, sir,” said I, “that the seal has not been +broken.” + +“Ay,” said he, “but what brought you here?” + +“To give the letter,” said I. + +“No,” says he, cunningly, “but ye’ll have had some hopes, nae doubt?” + +“I confess, sir,” said I, “when I was told that I had kinsfolk +well-to-do, I did indeed indulge the hope that they might help me in +my life. But I am no beggar; I look for no favours at your hands, and +I want none that are not freely given. For as poor as I appear, I have +friends of my own that will be blithe to help me.” + +“Hoot-toot!” said Uncle Ebenezer, “dinnae fly up in the snuff at me. +We’ll agree fine yet. And, Davie, my man, if you’re done with that bit +parritch, I could just take a sup of it myself. Ay,” he continued, +as soon as he had ousted me from the stool and spoon, “they’re fine, +halesome food--they’re grand food, parritch.” He murmured a little grace +to himself and fell to. “Your father was very fond of his meat, I mind; +he was a hearty, if not a great eater; but as for me, I could never +do mair than pyke at food.” He took a pull at the small beer, which +probably reminded him of hospitable duties, for his next speech ran +thus: “If ye’re dry ye’ll find water behind the door.” + +To this I returned no answer, standing stiffly on my two feet, and +looking down upon my uncle with a mighty angry heart. He, on his part, +continued to eat like a man under some pressure of time, and to throw +out little darting glances now at my shoes and now at my home-spun +stockings. Once only, when he had ventured to look a little higher, our +eyes met; and no thief taken with a hand in a man’s pocket could have +shown more lively signals of distress. This set me in a muse, whether +his timidity arose from too long a disuse of any human company; and +whether perhaps, upon a little trial, it might pass off, and my uncle +change into an altogether different man. From this I was awakened by his +sharp voice. + +“Your father’s been long dead?” he asked. + +“Three weeks, sir,” said I. + +“He was a secret man, Alexander--a secret, silent man,” he continued. +“He never said muckle when he was young. He’ll never have spoken muckle +of me?” + +“I never knew, sir, till you told it me yourself, that he had any +brother.” + +“Dear me, dear me!” said Ebenezer. “Nor yet of Shaws, I dare say?” + +“Not so much as the name, sir,” said I. + +“To think o’ that!” said he. “A strange nature of a man!” For all that, +he seemed singularly satisfied, but whether with himself, or me, or +with this conduct of my father’s, was more than I could read. Certainly, +however, he seemed to be outgrowing that distaste, or ill-will, that he +had conceived at first against my person; for presently he jumped up, +came across the room behind me, and hit me a smack upon the shoulder. +“We’ll agree fine yet!” he cried. “I’m just as glad I let you in. And +now come awa’ to your bed.” + +To my surprise, he lit no lamp or candle, but set forth into the dark +passage, groped his way, breathing deeply, up a flight of steps, and +paused before a door, which he unlocked. I was close upon his heels, +having stumbled after him as best I might; and then he bade me go in, +for that was my chamber. I did as he bid, but paused after a few steps, +and begged a light to go to bed with. + +“Hoot-toot!” said Uncle Ebenezer, “there’s a fine moon.” + +“Neither moon nor star, sir, and pit-mirk,” * said I. “I cannae see the +bed.” + + * Dark as the pit. + +“Hoot-toot, hoot-toot!” said he. “Lights in a house is a thing I dinnae +agree with. I’m unco feared of fires. Good-night to ye, Davie, my man.” + And before I had time to add a further protest, he pulled the door to, +and I heard him lock me in from the outside. + +I did not know whether to laugh or cry. The room was as cold as a well, +and the bed, when I had found my way to it, as damp as a peat-hag; but +by good fortune I had caught up my bundle and my plaid, and rolling +myself in the latter, I lay down upon the floor under lee of the big +bedstead, and fell speedily asleep. + +With the first peep of day I opened my eyes, to find myself in a great +chamber, hung with stamped leather, furnished with fine embroidered +furniture, and lit by three fair windows. Ten years ago, or perhaps +twenty, it must have been as pleasant a room to lie down or to awake in +as a man could wish; but damp, dirt, disuse, and the mice and spiders +had done their worst since then. Many of the window-panes, besides, were +broken; and indeed this was so common a feature in that house, that I +believe my uncle must at some time have stood a siege from his indignant +neighbours--perhaps with Jennet Clouston at their head. + +Meanwhile the sun was shining outside; and being very cold in that +miserable room, I knocked and shouted till my gaoler came and let me +out. He carried me to the back of the house, where was a draw-well, and +told me to “wash my face there, if I wanted;” and when that was done, +I made the best of my own way back to the kitchen, where he had lit the +fire and was making the porridge. The table was laid with two bowls and +two horn spoons, but the same single measure of small beer. Perhaps my +eye rested on this particular with some surprise, and perhaps my uncle +observed it; for he spoke up as if in answer to my thought, asking me if +I would like to drink ale--for so he called it. + +I told him such was my habit, but not to put himself about. + +“Na, na,” said he; “I’ll deny you nothing in reason.” + +He fetched another cup from the shelf; and then, to my great surprise, +instead of drawing more beer, he poured an accurate half from one cup +to the other. There was a kind of nobleness in this that took my breath +away; if my uncle was certainly a miser, he was one of that thorough +breed that goes near to make the vice respectable. + +When we had made an end of our meal, my uncle Ebenezer unlocked a +drawer, and drew out of it a clay pipe and a lump of tobacco, from which +he cut one fill before he locked it up again. Then he sat down in the +sun at one of the windows and silently smoked. From time to time his +eyes came coasting round to me, and he shot out one of his questions. +Once it was, “And your mother?” and when I had told him that she, too, +was dead, “Ay, she was a bonnie lassie!” Then, after another long pause, +“Whae were these friends o’ yours?” + +I told him they were different gentlemen of the name of Campbell; +though, indeed, there was only one, and that the minister, that had ever +taken the least note of me; but I began to think my uncle made too light +of my position, and finding myself all alone with him, I did not wish +him to suppose me helpless. + +He seemed to turn this over in his mind; and then, “Davie, my man,” said +he, “ye’ve come to the right bit when ye came to your uncle Ebenezer. +I’ve a great notion of the family, and I mean to do the right by you; +but while I’m taking a bit think to mysel’ of what’s the best thing to +put you to--whether the law, or the meenistry, or maybe the army, whilk +is what boys are fondest of--I wouldnae like the Balfours to be humbled +before a wheen Hieland Campbells, and I’ll ask you to keep your tongue +within your teeth. Nae letters; nae messages; no kind of word to +onybody; or else--there’s my door.” + +“Uncle Ebenezer,” said I, “I’ve no manner of reason to suppose you mean +anything but well by me. For all that, I would have you to know that I +have a pride of my own. It was by no will of mine that I came seeking +you; and if you show me your door again, I’ll take you at the word.” + +He seemed grievously put out. “Hoots-toots,” said he, “ca’ cannie, +man--ca’ cannie! Bide a day or two. I’m nae warlock, to find a fortune +for you in the bottom of a parritch bowl; but just you give me a day or +two, and say naething to naebody, and as sure as sure, I’ll do the right +by you.” + +“Very well,” said I, “enough said. If you want to help me, there’s no +doubt but I’ll be glad of it, and none but I’ll be grateful.” + +It seemed to me (too soon, I dare say) that I was getting the upper +hand of my uncle; and I began next to say that I must have the bed and +bedclothes aired and put to sun-dry; for nothing would make me sleep in +such a pickle. + +“Is this my house or yours?” said he, in his keen voice, and then all of +a sudden broke off. “Na, na,” said he, “I didnae mean that. What’s mine +is yours, Davie, my man, and what’s yours is mine. Blood’s thicker than +water; and there’s naebody but you and me that ought the name.” And +then on he rambled about the family, and its ancient greatness, and his +father that began to enlarge the house, and himself that stopped the +building as a sinful waste; and this put it in my head to give him +Jennet Clouston’s message. + +“The limmer!” he cried. “Twelve hunner and fifteen--that’s every day +since I had the limmer rowpit!* Dod, David, I’ll have her roasted on red +peats before I’m by with it! A witch--a proclaimed witch! I’ll aff and +see the session clerk.” + + * Sold up. + +And with that he opened a chest, and got out a very old and +well-preserved blue coat and waistcoat, and a good enough beaver hat, +both without lace. These he threw on any way, and taking a staff from +the cupboard, locked all up again, and was for setting out, when a +thought arrested him. + +“I cannae leave you by yoursel’ in the house,” said he. “I’ll have to +lock you out.” + +The blood came to my face. “If you lock me out,” I said, “it’ll be the +last you’ll see of me in friendship.” + +He turned very pale, and sucked his mouth in. + +“This is no the way,” he said, looking wickedly at a corner of the +floor--“this is no the way to win my favour, David.” + +“Sir,” says I, “with a proper reverence for your age and our common +blood, I do not value your favour at a boddle’s purchase. I was brought +up to have a good conceit of myself; and if you were all the uncle, and +all the family, I had in the world ten times over, I wouldn’t buy your +liking at such prices.” + +Uncle Ebenezer went and looked out of the window for awhile. I could +see him all trembling and twitching, like a man with palsy. But when he +turned round, he had a smile upon his face. + +“Well, well,” said he, “we must bear and forbear. I’ll no go; that’s all +that’s to be said of it.” + +“Uncle Ebenezer,” I said, “I can make nothing out of this. You use me +like a thief; you hate to have me in this house; you let me see it, +every word and every minute: it’s not possible that you can like me; and +as for me, I’ve spoken to you as I never thought to speak to any man. +Why do you seek to keep me, then? Let me gang back--let me gang back to +the friends I have, and that like me!” + +“Na, na; na, na,” he said, very earnestly. “I like you fine; we’ll agree +fine yet; and for the honour of the house I couldnae let you leave the +way ye came. Bide here quiet, there’s a good lad; just you bide here +quiet a bittie, and ye’ll find that we agree.” + +“Well, sir,” said I, after I had thought the matter out in silence, +“I’ll stay awhile. It’s more just I should be helped by my own blood +than strangers; and if we don’t agree, I’ll do my best it shall be +through no fault of mine.” + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + +For a day that was begun so ill, the day passed fairly well. We had the +porridge cold again at noon, and hot porridge at night; porridge and +small beer was my uncle’s diet. He spoke but little, and that in the +same way as before, shooting a question at me after a long silence; and +when I sought to lead him to talk about my future, slipped out of it +again. In a room next door to the kitchen, where he suffered me to go, +I found a great number of books, both Latin and English, in which I took +great pleasure all the afternoon. Indeed, the time passed so lightly in +this good company, that I began to be almost reconciled to my residence +at Shaws; and nothing but the sight of my uncle, and his eyes playing +hide and seek with mine, revived the force of my distrust. + +One thing I discovered, which put me in some doubt. This was an entry on +the fly-leaf of a chap-book (one of Patrick Walker’s) plainly written +by my father’s hand and thus conceived: “To my brother Ebenezer on his +fifth birthday.” Now, what puzzled me was this: That, as my father was of +course the younger brother, he must either have made some strange error, +or he must have written, before he was yet five, an excellent, clear +manly hand of writing. + +I tried to get this out of my head; but though I took down many +interesting authors, old and new, history, poetry, and story-book, this +notion of my father’s hand of writing stuck to me; and when at length I +went back into the kitchen, and sat down once more to porridge and small +beer, the first thing I said to Uncle Ebenezer was to ask him if my +father had not been very quick at his book. + +“Alexander? No him!” was the reply. “I was far quicker mysel’; I was a +clever chappie when I was young. Why, I could read as soon as he could.” + +This puzzled me yet more; and a thought coming into my head, I asked if +he and my father had been twins. + +He jumped upon his stool, and the horn spoon fell out of his hand upon +the floor. “What gars ye ask that?” he said, and he caught me by the +breast of the jacket, and looked this time straight into my eyes: +his own were little and light, and bright like a bird’s, blinking and +winking strangely. + +“What do you mean?” I asked, very calmly, for I was far stronger than +he, and not easily frightened. “Take your hand from my jacket. This is +no way to behave.” + +My uncle seemed to make a great effort upon himself. “Dod man, David,” + he said, “ye should-nae speak to me about your father. That’s where the +mistake is.” He sat awhile and shook, blinking in his plate: “He was all +the brother that ever I had,” he added, but with no heart in his voice; +and then he caught up his spoon and fell to supper again, but still +shaking. + +Now this last passage, this laying of hands upon my person and +sudden profession of love for my dead father, went so clean beyond my +comprehension that it put me into both fear and hope. On the one hand, +I began to think my uncle was perhaps insane and might be dangerous; +on the other, there came up into my mind (quite unbidden by me and even +discouraged) a story like some ballad I had heard folk singing, of a +poor lad that was a rightful heir and a wicked kinsman that tried +to keep him from his own. For why should my uncle play a part with a +relative that came, almost a beggar, to his door, unless in his heart he +had some cause to fear him? + +With this notion, all unacknowledged, but nevertheless getting firmly +settled in my head, I now began to imitate his covert looks; so that +we sat at table like a cat and a mouse, each stealthily observing the +other. Not another word had he to say to me, black or white, but was +busy turning something secretly over in his mind; and the longer we +sat and the more I looked at him, the more certain I became that the +something was unfriendly to myself. + +When he had cleared the platter, he got out a single pipeful of tobacco, +just as in the morning, turned round a stool into the chimney corner, +and sat awhile smoking, with his back to me. + +“Davie,” he said, at length, “I’ve been thinking;” then he paused, and +said it again. “There’s a wee bit siller that I half promised ye before +ye were born,” he continued; “promised it to your father. O, naething +legal, ye understand; just gentlemen daffing at their wine. Well, I +keepit that bit money separate--it was a great expense, but a promise +is a promise--and it has grown by now to be a matter of just +precisely--just exactly”--and here he paused and stumbled--“of just +exactly forty pounds!” This last he rapped out with a sidelong glance +over his shoulder; and the next moment added, almost with a scream, +“Scots!” + +The pound Scots being the same thing as an English shilling, the +difference made by this second thought was considerable; I could see, +besides, that the whole story was a lie, invented with some end which +it puzzled me to guess; and I made no attempt to conceal the tone of +raillery in which I answered-- + +“O, think again, sir! Pounds sterling, I believe!” + +“That’s what I said,” returned my uncle: “pounds sterling! And if you’ll +step out-by to the door a minute, just to see what kind of a night it +is, I’ll get it out to ye and call ye in again.” + +I did his will, smiling to myself in my contempt that he should think I +was so easily to be deceived. It was a dark night, with a few stars low +down; and as I stood just outside the door, I heard a hollow moaning +of wind far off among the hills. I said to myself there was something +thundery and changeful in the weather, and little knew of what a vast +importance that should prove to me before the evening passed. + +When I was called in again, my uncle counted out into my hand seven and +thirty golden guinea pieces; the rest was in his hand, in small gold and +silver; but his heart failed him there, and he crammed the change into +his pocket. + +“There,” said he, “that’ll show you! I’m a queer man, and strange wi’ +strangers; but my word is my bond, and there’s the proof of it.” + +Now, my uncle seemed so miserly that I was struck dumb by this sudden +generosity, and could find no words in which to thank him. + +“No a word!” said he. “Nae thanks; I want nae thanks. I do my duty. I’m +no saying that everybody would have done it; but for my part (though +I’m a careful body, too) it’s a pleasure to me to do the right by my +brother’s son; and it’s a pleasure to me to think that now we’ll agree +as such near friends should.” + +I spoke him in return as handsomely as I was able; but all the while +I was wondering what would come next, and why he had parted with his +precious guineas; for as to the reason he had given, a baby would have +refused it. + +Presently he looked towards me sideways. + +“And see here,” says he, “tit for tat.” + +I told him I was ready to prove my gratitude in any reasonable degree, +and then waited, looking for some monstrous demand. And yet, when +at last he plucked up courage to speak, it was only to tell me (very +properly, as I thought) that he was growing old and a little broken, and +that he would expect me to help him with the house and the bit garden. + +I answered, and expressed my readiness to serve. + +“Well,” he said, “let’s begin.” He pulled out of his pocket a rusty key. +“There,” says he, “there’s the key of the stair-tower at the far end of +the house. Ye can only win into it from the outside, for that part of +the house is no finished. Gang ye in there, and up the stairs, and bring +me down the chest that’s at the top. There’s papers in’t,” he added. + +“Can I have a light, sir?” said I. + +“Na,” said he, very cunningly. “Nae lights in my house.” + +“Very well, sir,” said I. “Are the stairs good?” + +“They’re grand,” said he; and then, as I was going, “Keep to the wall,” + he added; “there’s nae bannisters. But the stairs are grand underfoot.” + +Out I went into the night. The wind was still moaning in the distance, +though never a breath of it came near the house of Shaws. It had fallen +blacker than ever; and I was glad to feel along the wall, till I came +the length of the stairtower door at the far end of the unfinished wing. +I had got the key into the keyhole and had just turned it, when all upon +a sudden, without sound of wind or thunder, the whole sky lighted up +with wild fire and went black again. I had to put my hand over my eyes +to get back to the colour of the darkness; and indeed I was already half +blinded when I stepped into the tower. + +It was so dark inside, it seemed a body could scarce breathe; but I +pushed out with foot and hand, and presently struck the wall with the +one, and the lowermost round of the stair with the other. The wall, by +the touch, was of fine hewn stone; the steps too, though somewhat steep +and narrow, were of polished masonwork, and regular and solid underfoot. +Minding my uncle’s word about the bannisters, I kept close to the tower +side, and felt my way in the pitch darkness with a beating heart. + +The house of Shaws stood some five full storeys high, not counting +lofts. Well, as I advanced, it seemed to me the stair grew airier and a +thought more lightsome; and I was wondering what might be the cause of +this change, when a second blink of the summer lightning came and went. +If I did not cry out, it was because fear had me by the throat; and if I +did not fall, it was more by Heaven’s mercy than my own strength. It was +not only that the flash shone in on every side through breaches in the +wall, so that I seemed to be clambering aloft upon an open scaffold, but +the same passing brightness showed me the steps were of unequal length, +and that one of my feet rested that moment within two inches of the +well. + +This was the grand stair! I thought; and with the thought, a gust of +a kind of angry courage came into my heart. My uncle had sent me here, +certainly to run great risks, perhaps to die. I swore I would settle +that “perhaps,” if I should break my neck for it; got me down upon my +hands and knees; and as slowly as a snail, feeling before me every +inch, and testing the solidity of every stone, I continued to ascend +the stair. The darkness, by contrast with the flash, appeared to have +redoubled; nor was that all, for my ears were now troubled and my mind +confounded by a great stir of bats in the top part of the tower, and the +foul beasts, flying downwards, sometimes beat about my face and body. + +The tower, I should have said, was square; and in every corner the step +was made of a great stone of a different shape to join the flights. +Well, I had come close to one of these turns, when, feeling forward +as usual, my hand slipped upon an edge and found nothing but emptiness +beyond it. The stair had been carried no higher; to set a stranger +mounting it in the darkness was to send him straight to his death; and +(although, thanks to the lightning and my own precautions, I was safe +enough) the mere thought of the peril in which I might have stood, and +the dreadful height I might have fallen from, brought out the sweat upon +my body and relaxed my joints. + +But I knew what I wanted now, and turned and groped my way down again, +with a wonderful anger in my heart. About half-way down, the wind sprang +up in a clap and shook the tower, and died again; the rain followed; and +before I had reached the ground level it fell in buckets. I put out my +head into the storm, and looked along towards the kitchen. The door, +which I had shut behind me when I left, now stood open, and shed a +little glimmer of light; and I thought I could see a figure standing +in the rain, quite still, like a man hearkening. And then there came +a blinding flash, which showed me my uncle plainly, just where I had +fancied him to stand; and hard upon the heels of it, a great tow-row of +thunder. + +Now, whether my uncle thought the crash to be the sound of my fall, or +whether he heard in it God’s voice denouncing murder, I will leave you +to guess. Certain it is, at least, that he was seized on by a kind of +panic fear, and that he ran into the house and left the door open behind +him. I followed as softly as I could, and, coming unheard into the +kitchen, stood and watched him. + +He had found time to open the corner cupboard and bring out a great case +bottle of aqua vitae, and now sat with his back towards me at the table. +Ever and again he would be seized with a fit of deadly shuddering and +groan aloud, and carrying the bottle to his lips, drink down the raw +spirits by the mouthful. + +I stepped forward, came close behind him where he sat, and suddenly +clapping my two hands down upon his shoulders--“Ah!” cried I. + +My uncle gave a kind of broken cry like a sheep’s bleat, flung up his +arms, and tumbled to the floor like a dead man. I was somewhat shocked +at this; but I had myself to look to first of all, and did not hesitate +to let him lie as he had fallen. The keys were hanging in the cupboard; +and it was my design to furnish myself with arms before my uncle should +come again to his senses and the power of devising evil. In the cupboard +were a few bottles, some apparently of medicine; a great many bills and +other papers, which I should willingly enough have rummaged, had I had +the time; and a few necessaries that were nothing to my purpose. Thence +I turned to the chests. The first was full of meal; the second of +moneybags and papers tied into sheaves; in the third, with many +other things (and these for the most part clothes) I found a rusty, +ugly-looking Highland dirk without the scabbard. This, then, I concealed +inside my waistcoat, and turned to my uncle. + +He lay as he had fallen, all huddled, with one knee up and one arm +sprawling abroad; his face had a strange colour of blue, and he seemed +to have ceased breathing. Fear came on me that he was dead; then I +got water and dashed it in his face; and with that he seemed to come a +little to himself, working his mouth and fluttering his eyelids. At last +he looked up and saw me, and there came into his eyes a terror that was +not of this world. + +“Come, come,” said I; “sit up.” + +“Are ye alive?” he sobbed. “O man, are ye alive?” + +“That am I,” said I. “Small thanks to you!” + +He had begun to seek for his breath with deep sighs. “The blue phial,” + said he--“in the aumry--the blue phial.” His breath came slower still. + +I ran to the cupboard, and, sure enough, found there a blue phial +of medicine, with the dose written on it on a paper, and this I +administered to him with what speed I might. + +“It’s the trouble,” said he, reviving a little; “I have a trouble, +Davie. It’s the heart.” + +I set him on a chair and looked at him. It is true I felt some pity for +a man that looked so sick, but I was full besides of righteous anger; +and I numbered over before him the points on which I wanted explanation: +why he lied to me at every word; why he feared that I should leave him; +why he disliked it to be hinted that he and my father were twins--“Is +that because it is true?” I asked; why he had given me money to which I +was convinced I had no claim; and, last of all, why he had tried to kill +me. He heard me all through in silence; and then, in a broken voice, +begged me to let him go to bed. + +“I’ll tell ye the morn,” he said; “as sure as death I will.” + +And so weak was he that I could do nothing but consent. I locked him +into his room, however, and pocketed the key, and then returning to +the kitchen, made up such a blaze as had not shone there for many a long +year, and wrapping myself in my plaid, lay down upon the chests and fell +asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +I GO TO THE QUEEN’S FERRY + +Much rain fell in the night; and the next morning there blew a bitter +wintry wind out of the north-west, driving scattered clouds. For all +that, and before the sun began to peep or the last of the stars had +vanished, I made my way to the side of the burn, and had a plunge in a +deep whirling pool. All aglow from my bath, I sat down once more +beside the fire, which I replenished, and began gravely to consider my +position. + +There was now no doubt about my uncle’s enmity; there was no doubt I +carried my life in my hand, and he would leave no stone unturned that +he might compass my destruction. But I was young and spirited, and +like most lads that have been country-bred, I had a great opinion of my +shrewdness. I had come to his door no better than a beggar and little +more than a child; he had met me with treachery and violence; it would +be a fine consummation to take the upper hand, and drive him like a herd +of sheep. + +I sat there nursing my knee and smiling at the fire; and I saw myself in +fancy smell out his secrets one after another, and grow to be that man’s +king and ruler. The warlock of Essendean, they say, had made a mirror in +which men could read the future; it must have been of other stuff than +burning coal; for in all the shapes and pictures that I sat and gazed +at, there was never a ship, never a seaman with a hairy cap, never a big +bludgeon for my silly head, or the least sign of all those tribulations +that were ripe to fall on me. + +Presently, all swollen with conceit, I went up-stairs and gave my +prisoner his liberty. He gave me good-morning civilly; and I gave the +same to him, smiling down upon him, from the heights of my sufficiency. +Soon we were set to breakfast, as it might have been the day before. + +“Well, sir,” said I, with a jeering tone, “have you nothing more to say +to me?” And then, as he made no articulate reply, “It will be time, +I think, to understand each other,” I continued. “You took me for +a country Johnnie Raw, with no more mother-wit or courage than a +porridge-stick. I took you for a good man, or no worse than others at +the least. It seems we were both wrong. What cause you have to fear me, +to cheat me, and to attempt my life--” + +He murmured something about a jest, and that he liked a bit of fun; and +then, seeing me smile, changed his tone, and assured me he would make +all clear as soon as we had breakfasted. I saw by his face that he had +no lie ready for me, though he was hard at work preparing one; and I +think I was about to tell him so, when we were interrupted by a knocking +at the door. + +Bidding my uncle sit where he was, I went to open it, and found on the +doorstep a half-grown boy in sea-clothes. He had no sooner seen me than +he began to dance some steps of the sea-hornpipe (which I had never +before heard of far less seen), snapping his fingers in the air and +footing it right cleverly. For all that, he was blue with the cold; and +there was something in his face, a look between tears and laughter, that +was highly pathetic and consisted ill with this gaiety of manner. + +“What cheer, mate?” says he, with a cracked voice. + +I asked him soberly to name his pleasure. + +“O, pleasure!” says he; and then began to sing: + + “For it’s my delight, of a shiny night, + In the season of the year.” + +“Well,” said I, “if you have no business at all, I will even be so +unmannerly as to shut you out.” + +“Stay, brother!” he cried. “Have you no fun about you? or do you want +to get me thrashed? I’ve brought a letter from old Heasyoasy to Mr. +Belflower.” He showed me a letter as he spoke. “And I say, mate,” he +added, “I’m mortal hungry.” + +“Well,” said I, “come into the house, and you shall have a bite if I go +empty for it.” + +With that I brought him in and set him down to my own place, where he +fell-to greedily on the remains of breakfast, winking to me between +whiles, and making many faces, which I think the poor soul considered +manly. Meanwhile, my uncle had read the letter and sat thinking; then, +suddenly, he got to his feet with a great air of liveliness, and pulled +me apart into the farthest corner of the room. + +“Read that,” said he, and put the letter in my hand. + +Here it is, lying before me as I write: + +“The Hawes Inn, at the Queen’s Ferry. + +“Sir,--I lie here with my hawser up and down, and send my cabin-boy to +informe. If you have any further commands for over-seas, to-day will be +the last occasion, as the wind will serve us well out of the firth. +I will not seek to deny that I have had crosses with your doer,* Mr. +Rankeillor; of which, if not speedily redd up, you may looke to see some +losses follow. I have drawn a bill upon you, as per margin, and am, sir, + your most obedt., humble servant, “ELIAS HOSEASON.” * Agent. + +“You see, Davie,” resumed my uncle, as soon as he saw that I had done, +“I have a venture with this man Hoseason, the captain of a trading brig, +the Covenant, of Dysart. Now, if you and me was to walk over with +yon lad, I could see the captain at the Hawes, or maybe on board the +Covenant if there was papers to be signed; and so far from a loss of +time, we can jog on to the lawyer, Mr. Rankeillor’s. After a’ that’s +come and gone, ye would be swier* to believe me upon my naked word; but +ye’ll believe Rankeillor. He’s factor to half the gentry in these parts; +an auld man, forby: highly respeckit, and he kenned your father.” + + * Unwilling. + +I stood awhile and thought. I was going to some place of shipping, which +was doubtless populous, and where my uncle durst attempt no violence, +and, indeed, even the society of the cabin-boy so far protected me. Once +there, I believed I could force on the visit to the lawyer, even if my +uncle were now insincere in proposing it; and, perhaps, in the bottom +of my heart, I wished a nearer view of the sea and ships. You are to +remember I had lived all my life in the inland hills, and just two days +before had my first sight of the firth lying like a blue floor, and the +sailed ships moving on the face of it, no bigger than toys. One thing +with another, I made up my mind. + +“Very well,” says I, “let us go to the Ferry.” + +My uncle got into his hat and coat, and buckled an old rusty cutlass on; +and then we trod the fire out, locked the door, and set forth upon our +walk. + +The wind, being in that cold quarter the north-west, blew nearly in our +faces as we went. It was the month of June; the grass was all white with +daisies, and the trees with blossom; but, to judge by our blue nails +and aching wrists, the time might have been winter and the whiteness a +December frost. + +Uncle Ebenezer trudged in the ditch, jogging from side to side like an +old ploughman coming home from work. He never said a word the whole +way; and I was thrown for talk on the cabin-boy. He told me his name was +Ransome, and that he had followed the sea since he was nine, but could +not say how old he was, as he had lost his reckoning. He showed me +tattoo marks, baring his breast in the teeth of the wind and in spite +of my remonstrances, for I thought it was enough to kill him; he swore +horribly whenever he remembered, but more like a silly schoolboy than a +man; and boasted of many wild and bad things that he had done: stealthy +thefts, false accusations, ay, and even murder; but all with such a +dearth of likelihood in the details, and such a weak and crazy swagger +in the delivery, as disposed me rather to pity than to believe him. + +I asked him of the brig (which he declared was the finest ship that +sailed) and of Captain Hoseason, in whose praises he was equally loud. +Heasyoasy (for so he still named the skipper) was a man, by his account, +that minded for nothing either in heaven or earth; one that, as people +said, would “crack on all sail into the day of judgment;” rough, fierce, +unscrupulous, and brutal; and all this my poor cabin-boy had taught +himself to admire as something seamanlike and manly. He would only admit +one flaw in his idol. “He ain’t no seaman,” he admitted. “That’s Mr. +Shuan that navigates the brig; he’s the finest seaman in the trade, only +for drink; and I tell you I believe it! Why, look’ere;” and turning down +his stocking he showed me a great, raw, red wound that made my blood run +cold. “He done that--Mr. Shuan done it,” he said, with an air of pride. + +“What!” I cried, “do you take such savage usage at his hands? Why, you +are no slave, to be so handled!” + +“No,” said the poor moon-calf, changing his tune at once, “and so he’ll +find. See’ere;” and he showed me a great case-knife, which he told me +was stolen. “O,” says he, “let me see him try; I dare him to; I’ll do +for him! O, he ain’t the first!” And he confirmed it with a poor, silly, +ugly oath. + +I have never felt such pity for any one in this wide world as I felt for +that half-witted creature, and it began to come over me that the brig +Covenant (for all her pious name) was little better than a hell upon the +seas. + +“Have you no friends?” said I. + +He said he had a father in some English seaport, I forget which. + +“He was a fine man, too,” he said, “but he’s dead.” + +“In Heaven’s name,” cried I, “can you find no reputable life on shore?” + +“O, no,” says he, winking and looking very sly, “they would put me to a +trade. I know a trick worth two of that, I do!” + +I asked him what trade could be so dreadful as the one he followed, +where he ran the continual peril of his life, not alone from wind and +sea, but by the horrid cruelty of those who were his masters. He said +it was very true; and then began to praise the life, and tell what a +pleasure it was to get on shore with money in his pocket, and spend it +like a man, and buy apples, and swagger, and surprise what he called +stick-in-the-mud boys. “And then it’s not all as bad as that,” says he; +“there’s worse off than me: there’s the twenty-pounders. O, laws! +you should see them taking on. Why, I’ve seen a man as old as you, I +dessay”--(to him I seemed old)--“ah, and he had a beard, too--well, and +as soon as we cleared out of the river, and he had the drug out of his +head--my! how he cried and carried on! I made a fine fool of him, I tell +you! And then there’s little uns, too: oh, little by me! I tell you, I +keep them in order. When we carry little uns, I have a rope’s end of +my own to wollop’em.” And so he ran on, until it came in on me what +he meant by twenty-pounders were those unhappy criminals who were +sent over-seas to slavery in North America, or the still more unhappy +innocents who were kidnapped or trepanned (as the word went) for private +interest or vengeance. + +Just then we came to the top of the hill, and looked down on the Ferry +and the Hope. The Firth of Forth (as is very well known) narrows at this +point to the width of a good-sized river, which makes a convenient ferry +going north, and turns the upper reach into a landlocked haven for all +manner of ships. Right in the midst of the narrows lies an islet with +some ruins; on the south shore they have built a pier for the service +of the Ferry; and at the end of the pier, on the other side of the road, +and backed against a pretty garden of holly-trees and hawthorns, I could +see the building which they called the Hawes Inn. + +The town of Queensferry lies farther west, and the neighbourhood of the +inn looked pretty lonely at that time of day, for the boat had just gone +north with passengers. A skiff, however, lay beside the pier, with some +seamen sleeping on the thwarts; this, as Ransome told me, was the brig’s +boat waiting for the captain; and about half a mile off, and all +alone in the anchorage, he showed me the Covenant herself. There was a +sea-going bustle on board; yards were swinging into place; and as the +wind blew from that quarter, I could hear the song of the sailors as +they pulled upon the ropes. After all I had listened to upon the way, I +looked at that ship with an extreme abhorrence; and from the bottom of +my heart I pitied all poor souls that were condemned to sail in her. + +We had all three pulled up on the brow of the hill; and now I marched +across the road and addressed my uncle. “I think it right to tell +you, sir,” says I, “there’s nothing that will bring me on board that +Covenant.” + +He seemed to waken from a dream. “Eh?” he said. “What’s that?” + +I told him over again. + +“Well, well,” he said, “we’ll have to please ye, I suppose. But what +are we standing here for? It’s perishing cold; and if I’m no mistaken, +they’re busking the Covenant for sea.” + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN’S FERRY + +As soon as we came to the inn, Ransome led us up the stair to a small +room, with a bed in it, and heated like an oven by a great fire of coal. +At a table hard by the chimney, a tall, dark, sober-looking man sat +writing. In spite of the heat of the room, he wore a thick sea-jacket, +buttoned to the neck, and a tall hairy cap drawn down over his ears; yet +I never saw any man, not even a judge upon the bench, look cooler, or +more studious and self-possessed, than this ship-captain. + +He got to his feet at once, and coming forward, offered his large hand +to Ebenezer. “I am proud to see you, Mr. Balfour,” said he, in a fine +deep voice, “and glad that ye are here in time. The wind’s fair, and the +tide upon the turn; we’ll see the old coal-bucket burning on the Isle of +May before to-night.” + +“Captain Hoseason,” returned my uncle, “you keep your room unco hot.” + +“It’s a habit I have, Mr. Balfour,” said the skipper. “I’m a cold-rife +man by my nature; I have a cold blood, sir. There’s neither fur, +nor flannel--no, sir, nor hot rum, will warm up what they call +the temperature. Sir, it’s the same with most men that have been +carbonadoed, as they call it, in the tropic seas.” + +“Well, well, captain,” replied my uncle, “we must all be the way we’re +made.” + +But it chanced that this fancy of the captain’s had a great share in my +misfortunes. For though I had promised myself not to let my kinsman out +of sight, I was both so impatient for a nearer look of the sea, and +so sickened by the closeness of the room, that when he told me to “run +down-stairs and play myself awhile,” I was fool enough to take him at +his word. + +Away I went, therefore, leaving the two men sitting down to a bottle +and a great mass of papers; and crossing the road in front of the inn, +walked down upon the beach. With the wind in that quarter, only little +wavelets, not much bigger than I had seen upon a lake, beat upon the +shore. But the weeds were new to me--some green, some brown and long, +and some with little bladders that crackled between my fingers. Even so +far up the firth, the smell of the sea-water was exceedingly salt and +stirring; the Covenant, besides, was beginning to shake out her sails, +which hung upon the yards in clusters; and the spirit of all that I +beheld put me in thoughts of far voyages and foreign places. + +I looked, too, at the seamen with the skiff--big brown fellows, some in +shirts, some with jackets, some with coloured handkerchiefs about their +throats, one with a brace of pistols stuck into his pockets, two or +three with knotty bludgeons, and all with their case-knives. I passed +the time of day with one that looked less desperate than his fellows, +and asked him of the sailing of the brig. He said they would get under +way as soon as the ebb set, and expressed his gladness to be out of +a port where there were no taverns and fiddlers; but all with such +horrifying oaths, that I made haste to get away from him. + +This threw me back on Ransome, who seemed the least wicked of that gang, +and who soon came out of the inn and ran to me, crying for a bowl of +punch. I told him I would give him no such thing, for neither he nor I +was of an age for such indulgences. “But a glass of ale you may have, +and welcome,” said I. He mopped and mowed at me, and called me names; +but he was glad to get the ale, for all that; and presently we were +set down at a table in the front room of the inn, and both eating and +drinking with a good appetite. + +Here it occurred to me that, as the landlord was a man of that county, +I might do well to make a friend of him. I offered him a share, as was +much the custom in those days; but he was far too great a man to sit +with such poor customers as Ransome and myself, and he was leaving the +room, when I called him back to ask if he knew Mr. Rankeillor. + +“Hoot, ay,” says he, “and a very honest man. And, O, by-the-by,” says +he, “was it you that came in with Ebenezer?” And when I had told him +yes, “Ye’ll be no friend of his?” he asked, meaning, in the Scottish +way, that I would be no relative. + +I told him no, none. + +“I thought not,” said he, “and yet ye have a kind of gliff* of Mr. +Alexander.” + + * Look. + +I said it seemed that Ebenezer was ill-seen in the country. + +“Nae doubt,” said the landlord. “He’s a wicked auld man, and there’s +many would like to see him girning in the tow*. Jennet Clouston and mony +mair that he has harried out of house and hame. And yet he was ance +a fine young fellow, too. But that was before the sough** gaed abroad +about Mr. Alexander, that was like the death of him.” + + * Rope. + + ** Report. + +“And what was it?” I asked. + +“Ou, just that he had killed him,” said the landlord. “Did ye never hear +that?” + +“And what would he kill him for?” said I. + +“And what for, but just to get the place,” said he. + +“The place?” said I. “The Shaws?” + +“Nae other place that I ken,” said he. + +“Ay, man?” said I. “Is that so? Was my--was Alexander the eldest son?” + +“‘Deed was he,” said the landlord. “What else would he have killed him +for?” + +And with that he went away, as he had been impatient to do from the +beginning. + +Of course, I had guessed it a long while ago; but it is one thing to +guess, another to know; and I sat stunned with my good fortune, and +could scarce grow to believe that the same poor lad who had trudged in +the dust from Ettrick Forest not two days ago, was now one of the rich +of the earth, and had a house and broad lands, and might mount his horse +tomorrow. All these pleasant things, and a thousand others, crowded into +my mind, as I sat staring before me out of the inn window, and paying +no heed to what I saw; only I remember that my eye lighted on Captain +Hoseason down on the pier among his seamen, and speaking with some +authority. And presently he came marching back towards the house, with +no mark of a sailor’s clumsiness, but carrying his fine, tall figure +with a manly bearing, and still with the same sober, grave expression on +his face. I wondered if it was possible that Ransome’s stories could +be true, and half disbelieved them; they fitted so ill with the man’s +looks. But indeed, he was neither so good as I supposed him, nor quite +so bad as Ransome did; for, in fact, he was two men, and left the better +one behind as soon as he set foot on board his vessel. + +The next thing, I heard my uncle calling me, and found the pair in the +road together. It was the captain who addressed me, and that with an air +(very flattering to a young lad) of grave equality. + +“Sir,” said he, “Mr. Balfour tells me great things of you; and for my +own part, I like your looks. I wish I was for longer here, that we might +make the better friends; but we’ll make the most of what we have. Ye +shall come on board my brig for half an hour, till the ebb sets, and +drink a bowl with me.” + +Now, I longed to see the inside of a ship more than words can tell; but +I was not going to put myself in jeopardy, and I told him my uncle and I +had an appointment with a lawyer. + +“Ay, ay,” said he, “he passed me word of that. But, ye see, the boat’ll +set ye ashore at the town pier, and that’s but a penny stonecast from +Rankeillor’s house.” And here he suddenly leaned down and whispered in +my ear: “Take care of the old tod;* he means mischief. Come aboard till +I can get a word with ye.” And then, passing his arm through mine, he +continued aloud, as he set off towards his boat: “But, come, what can I +bring ye from the Carolinas? Any friend of Mr. Balfour’s can command. +A roll of tobacco? Indian feather-work? a skin of a wild beast? a stone +pipe? the mocking-bird that mews for all the world like a cat? the +cardinal bird that is as red as blood?--take your pick and say your +pleasure.” + + * Fox. + +By this time we were at the boat-side, and he was handing me in. I did +not dream of hanging back; I thought (the poor fool!) that I had found +a good friend and helper, and I was rejoiced to see the ship. As soon as +we were all set in our places, the boat was thrust off from the pier +and began to move over the waters: and what with my pleasure in this new +movement and my surprise at our low position, and the appearance of the +shores, and the growing bigness of the brig as we drew near to it, I +could hardly understand what the captain said, and must have answered +him at random. + +As soon as we were alongside (where I sat fairly gaping at the ship’s +height, the strong humming of the tide against its sides, and the +pleasant cries of the seamen at their work) Hoseason, declaring that he +and I must be the first aboard, ordered a tackle to be sent down from +the main-yard. In this I was whipped into the air and set down again on +the deck, where the captain stood ready waiting for me, and instantly +slipped back his arm under mine. There I stood some while, a little +dizzy with the unsteadiness of all around me, perhaps a little afraid, +and yet vastly pleased with these strange sights; the captain meanwhile +pointing out the strangest, and telling me their names and uses. + +“But where is my uncle?” said I suddenly. + +“Ay,” said Hoseason, with a sudden grimness, “that’s the point.” + +I felt I was lost. With all my strength, I plucked myself clear of him +and ran to the bulwarks. Sure enough, there was the boat pulling for the +town, with my uncle sitting in the stern. I gave a piercing cry--“Help, +help! Murder!”--so that both sides of the anchorage rang with it, and +my uncle turned round where he was sitting, and showed me a face full of +cruelty and terror. + +It was the last I saw. Already strong hands had been plucking me back +from the ship’s side; and now a thunderbolt seemed to strike me; I saw a +great flash of fire, and fell senseless. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG “COVENANT” OF DYSART + +I came to myself in darkness, in great pain, bound hand and foot, and +deafened by many unfamiliar noises. There sounded in my ears a roaring +of water as of a huge mill-dam, the thrashing of heavy sprays, the +thundering of the sails, and the shrill cries of seamen. The whole world +now heaved giddily up, and now rushed giddily downward; and so sick and +hurt was I in body, and my mind so much confounded, that it took me a +long while, chasing my thoughts up and down, and ever stunned again by +a fresh stab of pain, to realise that I must be lying somewhere bound in +the belly of that unlucky ship, and that the wind must have strengthened +to a gale. With the clear perception of my plight, there fell upon me a +blackness of despair, a horror of remorse at my own folly, and a passion +of anger at my uncle, that once more bereft me of my senses. + +When I returned again to life, the same uproar, the same confused and +violent movements, shook and deafened me; and presently, to my other +pains and distresses, there was added the sickness of an unused landsman +on the sea. In that time of my adventurous youth, I suffered many +hardships; but none that was so crushing to my mind and body, or lit by +so few hopes, as these first hours aboard the brig. + +I heard a gun fire, and supposed the storm had proved too strong for us, +and we were firing signals of distress. The thought of deliverance, even +by death in the deep sea, was welcome to me. Yet it was no such matter; +but (as I was afterwards told) a common habit of the captain’s, which +I here set down to show that even the worst man may have his kindlier +side. We were then passing, it appeared, within some miles of Dysart, +where the brig was built, and where old Mrs. Hoseason, the captain’s +mother, had come some years before to live; and whether outward or +inward bound, the Covenant was never suffered to go by that place by +day, without a gun fired and colours shown. + +I had no measure of time; day and night were alike in that ill-smelling +cavern of the ship’s bowels where I lay; and the misery of my situation +drew out the hours to double. How long, therefore, I lay waiting to hear +the ship split upon some rock, or to feel her reel head foremost into +the depths of the sea, I have not the means of computation. But sleep at +length stole from me the consciousness of sorrow. + +I was awakened by the light of a hand-lantern shining in my face. A +small man of about thirty, with green eyes and a tangle of fair hair, +stood looking down at me. + +“Well,” said he, “how goes it?” + +I answered by a sob; and my visitor then felt my pulse and temples, and +set himself to wash and dress the wound upon my scalp. + +“Ay,” said he, “a sore dunt*. What, man? Cheer up! The world’s no done; +you’ve made a bad start of it but you’ll make a better. Have you had any +meat?” + + * Stroke. + +I said I could not look at it: and thereupon he gave me some brandy and +water in a tin pannikin, and left me once more to myself. + +The next time he came to see me, I was lying betwixt sleep and waking, +my eyes wide open in the darkness, the sickness quite departed, but +succeeded by a horrid giddiness and swimming that was almost worse +to bear. I ached, besides, in every limb, and the cords that bound me +seemed to be of fire. The smell of the hole in which I lay seemed to +have become a part of me; and during the long interval since his last +visit I had suffered tortures of fear, now from the scurrying of the +ship’s rats, that sometimes pattered on my very face, and now from the +dismal imaginings that haunt the bed of fever. + +The glimmer of the lantern, as a trap opened, shone in like the heaven’s +sunlight; and though it only showed me the strong, dark beams of the +ship that was my prison, I could have cried aloud for gladness. The man +with the green eyes was the first to descend the ladder, and I noticed +that he came somewhat unsteadily. He was followed by the captain. +Neither said a word; but the first set to and examined me, and dressed +my wound as before, while Hoseason looked me in my face with an odd, +black look. + +“Now, sir, you see for yourself,” said the first: “a high fever, no +appetite, no light, no meat: you see for yourself what that means.” + +“I am no conjurer, Mr. Riach,” said the captain. + +“Give me leave, sir,” said Riach; “you’ve a good head upon your +shoulders, and a good Scotch tongue to ask with; but I will leave you no +manner of excuse; I want that boy taken out of this hole and put in the +forecastle.” + +“What ye may want, sir, is a matter of concern to nobody but yoursel’,” + returned the captain; “but I can tell ye that which is to be. Here he +is; here he shall bide.” + +“Admitting that you have been paid in a proportion,” said the other, “I +will crave leave humbly to say that I have not. Paid I am, and none too +much, to be the second officer of this old tub, and you ken very well if +I do my best to earn it. But I was paid for nothing more.” + +“If ye could hold back your hand from the tin-pan, Mr. Riach, I would +have no complaint to make of ye,” returned the skipper; “and instead +of asking riddles, I make bold to say that ye would keep your breath to +cool your porridge. We’ll be required on deck,” he added, in a sharper +note, and set one foot upon the ladder. + +But Mr. Riach caught him by the sleeve. + +“Admitting that you have been paid to do a murder----” he began. + +Hoseason turned upon him with a flash. + +“What’s that?” he cried. “What kind of talk is that?” + +“It seems it is the talk that you can understand,” said Mr. Riach, +looking him steadily in the face. + +“Mr. Riach, I have sailed with ye three cruises,” replied the captain. +“In all that time, sir, ye should have learned to know me: I’m a stiff +man, and a dour man; but for what ye say the now--fie, fie!--it comes +from a bad heart and a black conscience. If ye say the lad will die----” + +“Ay, will he!” said Mr. Riach. + +“Well, sir, is not that enough?” said Hoseason. “Flit him where ye +please!” + +Thereupon the captain ascended the ladder; and I, who had lain silent +throughout this strange conversation, beheld Mr. Riach turn after him +and bow as low as to his knees in what was plainly a spirit of derision. +Even in my then state of sickness, I perceived two things: that the +mate was touched with liquor, as the captain hinted, and that (drunk or +sober) he was like to prove a valuable friend. + +Five minutes afterwards my bonds were cut, I was hoisted on a man’s +back, carried up to the forecastle, and laid in a bunk on some +sea-blankets; where the first thing that I did was to lose my senses. + +It was a blessed thing indeed to open my eyes again upon the daylight, +and to find myself in the society of men. The forecastle was a roomy +place enough, set all about with berths, in which the men of the watch +below were seated smoking, or lying down asleep. The day being calm and +the wind fair, the scuttle was open, and not only the good daylight, but +from time to time (as the ship rolled) a dusty beam of sunlight shone +in, and dazzled and delighted me. I had no sooner moved, moreover, than +one of the men brought me a drink of something healing which Mr. Riach +had prepared, and bade me lie still and I should soon be well again. +There were no bones broken, he explained: “A clour* on the head was +naething. Man,” said he, “it was me that gave it ye!” + + * Blow. + +Here I lay for the space of many days a close prisoner, and not only got +my health again, but came to know my companions. They were a rough lot +indeed, as sailors mostly are: being men rooted out of all the kindly +parts of life, and condemned to toss together on the rough seas, with +masters no less cruel. There were some among them that had sailed with +the pirates and seen things it would be a shame even to speak of; some +were men that had run from the king’s ships, and went with a halter +round their necks, of which they made no secret; and all, as the saying +goes, were “at a word and a blow” with their best friends. Yet I had +not been many days shut up with them before I began to be ashamed of my +first judgment, when I had drawn away from them at the Ferry pier, as +though they had been unclean beasts. No class of man is altogether bad, +but each has its own faults and virtues; and these shipmates of mine +were no exception to the rule. Rough they were, sure enough; and bad, I +suppose; but they had many virtues. They were kind when it occurred to +them, simple even beyond the simplicity of a country lad like me, and +had some glimmerings of honesty. + +There was one man, of maybe forty, that would sit on my berthside for +hours and tell me of his wife and child. He was a fisher that had lost +his boat, and thus been driven to the deep-sea voyaging. Well, it is +years ago now: but I have never forgotten him. His wife (who was “young +by him,” as he often told me) waited in vain to see her man return; he +would never again make the fire for her in the morning, nor yet keep +the bairn when she was sick. Indeed, many of these poor fellows (as the +event proved) were upon their last cruise; the deep seas and cannibal +fish received them; and it is a thankless business to speak ill of the +dead. + +Among other good deeds that they did, they returned my money, which had +been shared among them; and though it was about a third short, I was +very glad to get it, and hoped great good from it in the land I was +going to. The ship was bound for the Carolinas; and you must not suppose +that I was going to that place merely as an exile. The trade was even +then much depressed; since that, and with the rebellion of the colonies +and the formation of the United States, it has, of course, come to +an end; but in those days of my youth, white men were still sold into +slavery on the plantations, and that was the destiny to which my wicked +uncle had condemned me. + +The cabin-boy Ransome (from whom I had first heard of these atrocities) +came in at times from the round-house, where he berthed and served, now +nursing a bruised limb in silent agony, now raving against the cruelty +of Mr. Shuan. It made my heart bleed; but the men had a great respect +for the chief mate, who was, as they said, “the only seaman of the whole +jing-bang, and none such a bad man when he was sober.” Indeed, I found +there was a strange peculiarity about our two mates: that Mr. Riach was +sullen, unkind, and harsh when he was sober, and Mr. Shuan would not +hurt a fly except when he was drinking. I asked about the captain; but I +was told drink made no difference upon that man of iron. + +I did my best in the small time allowed me to make some thing like a +man, or rather I should say something like a boy, of the poor creature, +Ransome. But his mind was scarce truly human. He could remember nothing +of the time before he came to sea; only that his father had made clocks, +and had a starling in the parlour, which could whistle “The North +Countrie;” all else had been blotted out in these years of hardship +and cruelties. He had a strange notion of the dry land, picked up from +sailor’s stories: that it was a place where lads were put to some kind +of slavery called a trade, and where apprentices were continually lashed +and clapped into foul prisons. In a town, he thought every second person +a decoy, and every third house a place in which seamen would be drugged +and murdered. To be sure, I would tell him how kindly I had myself been +used upon that dry land he was so much afraid of, and how well fed and +carefully taught both by my friends and my parents: and if he had been +recently hurt, he would weep bitterly and swear to run away; but if +he was in his usual crackbrain humour, or (still more) if he had had a +glass of spirits in the roundhouse, he would deride the notion. + +It was Mr. Riach (Heaven forgive him!) who gave the boy drink; and +it was, doubtless, kindly meant; but besides that it was ruin to his +health, it was the pitifullest thing in life to see this unhappy, +unfriended creature staggering, and dancing, and talking he knew not +what. Some of the men laughed, but not all; others would grow as black +as thunder (thinking, perhaps, of their own childhood or their own +children) and bid him stop that nonsense, and think what he was doing. +As for me, I felt ashamed to look at him, and the poor child still comes +about me in my dreams. + +All this time, you should know, the Covenant was meeting continual +head-winds and tumbling up and down against head-seas, so that the +scuttle was almost constantly shut, and the forecastle lighted only by a +swinging lantern on a beam. There was constant labour for all hands; the +sails had to be made and shortened every hour; the strain told on the +men’s temper; there was a growl of quarrelling all day long from berth +to berth; and as I was never allowed to set my foot on deck, you +can picture to yourselves how weary of my life I grew to be, and how +impatient for a change. + +And a change I was to get, as you shall hear; but I must first tell of +a conversation I had with Mr. Riach, which put a little heart in me to +bear my troubles. Getting him in a favourable stage of drink (for indeed +he never looked near me when he was sober), I pledged him to secrecy, +and told him my whole story. + +He declared it was like a ballad; that he would do his best to help +me; that I should have paper, pen, and ink, and write one line to Mr. +Campbell and another to Mr. Rankeillor; and that if I had told the +truth, ten to one he would be able (with their help) to pull me through +and set me in my rights. + +“And in the meantime,” says he, “keep your heart up. You’re not the only +one, I’ll tell you that. There’s many a man hoeing tobacco over-seas +that should be mounting his horse at his own door at home; many and +many! And life is all a variorum, at the best. Look at me: I’m a laird’s +son and more than half a doctor, and here I am, man-Jack to Hoseason!” + +I thought it would be civil to ask him for his story. + +He whistled loud. + +“Never had one,” said he. “I like fun, that’s all.” And he skipped out +of the forecastle. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE ROUND-HOUSE + +One night, about eleven o’clock, a man of Mr. Riach’s watch (which was +on deck) came below for his jacket; and instantly there began to go +a whisper about the forecastle that “Shuan had done for him at last.” + There was no need of a name; we all knew who was meant; but we had +scarce time to get the idea rightly in our heads, far less to speak of +it, when the scuttle was again flung open, and Captain Hoseason came +down the ladder. He looked sharply round the bunks in the tossing light +of the lantern; and then, walking straight up to me, he addressed me, to +my surprise, in tones of kindness. + +“My man,” said he, “we want ye to serve in the round-house. You and +Ransome are to change berths. Run away aft with ye.” + +Even as he spoke, two seamen appeared in the scuttle, carrying Ransome +in their arms; and the ship at that moment giving a great sheer into the +sea, and the lantern swinging, the light fell direct on the boy’s face. +It was as white as wax, and had a look upon it like a dreadful smile. +The blood in me ran cold, and I drew in my breath as if I had been +struck. + +“Run away aft; run away aft with ye!” cried Hoseason. + +And at that I brushed by the sailors and the boy (who neither spoke nor +moved), and ran up the ladder on deck. + +The brig was sheering swiftly and giddily through a long, cresting +swell. She was on the starboard tack, and on the left hand, under the +arched foot of the foresail, I could see the sunset still quite bright. +This, at such an hour of the night, surprised me greatly; but I was too +ignorant to draw the true conclusion--that we were going north-about +round Scotland, and were now on the high sea between the Orkney and +Shetland Islands, having avoided the dangerous currents of the Pentland +Firth. For my part, who had been so long shut in the dark and knew +nothing of head-winds, I thought we might be half-way or more across the +Atlantic. And indeed (beyond that I wondered a little at the lateness of +the sunset light) I gave no heed to it, and pushed on across the decks, +running between the seas, catching at ropes, and only saved from going +overboard by one of the hands on deck, who had been always kind to me. + +The round-house, for which I was bound, and where I was now to sleep and +serve, stood some six feet above the decks, and considering the size of +the brig, was of good dimensions. Inside were a fixed table and bench, +and two berths, one for the captain and the other for the two mates, +turn and turn about. It was all fitted with lockers from top to bottom, +so as to stow away the officers’ belongings and a part of the ship’s +stores; there was a second store-room underneath, which you entered by a +hatchway in the middle of the deck; indeed, all the best of the meat and +drink and the whole of the powder were collected in this place; and all +the firearms, except the two pieces of brass ordnance, were set in a +rack in the aftermost wall of the round-house. The most of the cutlasses +were in another place. + +A small window with a shutter on each side, and a skylight in the roof, +gave it light by day; and after dark there was a lamp always burning. +It was burning when I entered, not brightly, but enough to show Mr. +Shuan sitting at the table, with the brandy bottle and a tin pannikin +in front of him. He was a tall man, strongly made and very black; and he +stared before him on the table like one stupid. + +He took no notice of my coming in; nor did he move when the captain +followed and leant on the berth beside me, looking darkly at the mate. +I stood in great fear of Hoseason, and had my reasons for it; but +something told me I need not be afraid of him just then; and I whispered +in his ear: “How is he?” He shook his head like one that does not know +and does not wish to think, and his face was very stern. + +Presently Mr. Riach came in. He gave the captain a glance that meant the +boy was dead as plain as speaking, and took his place like the rest +of us; so that we all three stood without a word, staring down at Mr. +Shuan, and Mr. Shuan (on his side) sat without a word, looking hard upon +the table. + +All of a sudden he put out his hand to take the bottle; and at that Mr. +Riach started forward and caught it away from him, rather by surprise +than violence, crying out, with an oath, that there had been too much of +this work altogether, and that a judgment would fall upon the ship. +And as he spoke (the weather sliding-doors standing open) he tossed the +bottle into the sea. + +Mr. Shuan was on his feet in a trice; he still looked dazed, but he +meant murder, ay, and would have done it, for the second time that +night, had not the captain stepped in between him and his victim. + +“Sit down!” roars the captain. “Ye sot and swine, do ye know what ye’ve +done? Ye’ve murdered the boy!” + +Mr. Shuan seemed to understand; for he sat down again, and put up his +hand to his brow. + +“Well,” he said, “he brought me a dirty pannikin!” + +At that word, the captain and I and Mr. Riach all looked at each other +for a second with a kind of frightened look; and then Hoseason walked +up to his chief officer, took him by the shoulder, led him across to his +bunk, and bade him lie down and go to sleep, as you might speak to a bad +child. The murderer cried a little, but he took off his sea-boots and +obeyed. + +“Ah!” cried Mr. Riach, with a dreadful voice, “ye should have interfered +long syne. It’s too late now.” + +“Mr. Riach,” said the captain, “this night’s work must never be kennt +in Dysart. The boy went overboard, sir; that’s what the story is; and I +would give five pounds out of my pocket it was true!” He turned to the +table. “What made ye throw the good bottle away?” he added. “There was +nae sense in that, sir. Here, David, draw me another. They’re in the +bottom locker;” and he tossed me a key. “Ye’ll need a glass yourself, +sir,” he added to Riach. “Yon was an ugly thing to see.” + +So the pair sat down and hob-a-nobbed; and while they did so, the +murderer, who had been lying and whimpering in his berth, raised himself +upon his elbow and looked at them and at me. + +That was the first night of my new duties; and in the course of the next +day I had got well into the run of them. I had to serve at the meals, +which the captain took at regular hours, sitting down with the officer +who was off duty; all the day through I would be running with a dram +to one or other of my three masters; and at night I slept on a blanket +thrown on the deck boards at the aftermost end of the round-house, and +right in the draught of the two doors. It was a hard and a cold bed; +nor was I suffered to sleep without interruption; for some one would be +always coming in from deck to get a dram, and when a fresh watch was +to be set, two and sometimes all three would sit down and brew a bowl +together. How they kept their health, I know not, any more than how I +kept my own. + +And yet in other ways it was an easy service. There was no cloth to lay; +the meals were either of oatmeal porridge or salt junk, except twice a +week, when there was duff: and though I was clumsy enough and (not being +firm on my sealegs) sometimes fell with what I was bringing them, both +Mr. Riach and the captain were singularly patient. I could not but fancy +they were making up lee-way with their consciences, and that they +would scarce have been so good with me if they had not been worse with +Ransome. + +As for Mr. Shuan, the drink or his crime, or the two together, had +certainly troubled his mind. I cannot say I ever saw him in his proper +wits. He never grew used to my being there, stared at me continually +(sometimes, I could have thought, with terror), and more than once drew +back from my hand when I was serving him. I was pretty sure from the +first that he had no clear mind of what he had done, and on my second +day in the round-house I had the proof of it. We were alone, and he had +been staring at me a long time, when all at once, up he got, as pale as +death, and came close up to me, to my great terror. But I had no cause +to be afraid of him. + +“You were not here before?” he asked. + +“No, sir,” said I.” + +“There was another boy?” he asked again; and when I had answered him, +“Ah!” says he, “I thought that,” and went and sat down, without another +word, except to call for brandy. + +You may think it strange, but for all the horror I had, I was still +sorry for him. He was a married man, with a wife in Leith; but whether +or no he had a family, I have now forgotten; I hope not. + +Altogether it was no very hard life for the time it lasted, which (as +you are to hear) was not long. I was as well fed as the best of them; +even their pickles, which were the great dainty, I was allowed my share +of; and had I liked I might have been drunk from morning to night, like +Mr. Shuan. I had company, too, and good company of its sort. Mr. Riach, +who had been to the college, spoke to me like a friend when he was not +sulking, and told me many curious things, and some that were informing; +and even the captain, though he kept me at the stick’s end the most part +of the time, would sometimes unbuckle a bit, and tell me of the fine +countries he had visited. + +The shadow of poor Ransome, to be sure, lay on all four of us, and on +me and Mr. Shuan in particular, most heavily. And then I had another +trouble of my own. Here I was, doing dirty work for three men that I +looked down upon, and one of whom, at least, should have hung upon a +gallows; that was for the present; and as for the future, I could only +see myself slaving alongside of negroes in the tobacco fields. Mr. +Riach, perhaps from caution, would never suffer me to say another word +about my story; the captain, whom I tried to approach, rebuffed me like +a dog and would not hear a word; and as the days came and went, my heart +sank lower and lower, till I was even glad of the work which kept me +from thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD + +More than a week went by, in which the ill-luck that had hitherto +pursued the Covenant upon this voyage grew yet more strongly marked. +Some days she made a little way; others, she was driven actually back. +At last we were beaten so far to the south that we tossed and tacked to +and fro the whole of the ninth day, within sight of Cape Wrath and the +wild, rocky coast on either hand of it. There followed on that a council +of the officers, and some decision which I did not rightly understand, +seeing only the result: that we had made a fair wind of a foul one and +were running south. + +The tenth afternoon there was a falling swell and a thick, wet, white +fog that hid one end of the brig from the other. All afternoon, when +I went on deck, I saw men and officers listening hard over the +bulwarks--“for breakers,” they said; and though I did not so much as +understand the word, I felt danger in the air, and was excited. + +Maybe about ten at night, I was serving Mr. Riach and the captain at +their supper, when the ship struck something with a great sound, and we +heard voices singing out. My two masters leaped to their feet. + +“She’s struck!” said Mr. Riach. + +“No, sir,” said the captain. “We’ve only run a boat down.” + +And they hurried out. + +The captain was in the right of it. We had run down a boat in the fog, +and she had parted in the midst and gone to the bottom with all her crew +but one. This man (as I heard afterwards) had been sitting in the stern +as a passenger, while the rest were on the benches rowing. At the moment +of the blow, the stern had been thrown into the air, and the man (having +his hands free, and for all he was encumbered with a frieze overcoat +that came below his knees) had leaped up and caught hold of the brig’s +bowsprit. It showed he had luck and much agility and unusual strength, +that he should have thus saved himself from such a pass. And yet, when +the captain brought him into the round-house, and I set eyes on him for +the first time, he looked as cool as I did. + +He was smallish in stature, but well set and as nimble as a goat; his +face was of a good open expression, but sunburnt very dark, and heavily +freckled and pitted with the small-pox; his eyes were unusually light +and had a kind of dancing madness in them, that was both engaging and +alarming; and when he took off his great-coat, he laid a pair of fine +silver-mounted pistols on the table, and I saw that he was belted with +a great sword. His manners, besides, were elegant, and he pledged the +captain handsomely. Altogether I thought of him, at the first sight, +that here was a man I would rather call my friend than my enemy. + +The captain, too, was taking his observations, but rather of the man’s +clothes than his person. And to be sure, as soon as he had taken off +the great-coat, he showed forth mighty fine for the round-house of a +merchant brig: having a hat with feathers, a red waistcoat, breeches +of black plush, and a blue coat with silver buttons and handsome silver +lace; costly clothes, though somewhat spoiled with the fog and being +slept in. + +“I’m vexed, sir, about the boat,” says the captain. + +“There are some pretty men gone to the bottom,” said the stranger, “that +I would rather see on the dry land again than half a score of boats.” + +“Friends of yours?” said Hoseason. + +“You have none such friends in your country,” was the reply. “They would +have died for me like dogs.” + +“Well, sir,” said the captain, still watching him, “there are more men +in the world than boats to put them in.” + +“And that’s true, too,” cried the other, “and ye seem to be a gentleman +of great penetration.” + +“I have been in France, sir,” says the captain, so that it was plain he +meant more by the words than showed upon the face of them. + +“Well, sir,” says the other, “and so has many a pretty man, for the +matter of that.” + +“No doubt, sir,” says the captain, “and fine coats.” + +“Oho!” says the stranger, “is that how the wind sets?” And he laid his +hand quickly on his pistols. + +“Don’t be hasty,” said the captain. “Don’t do a mischief before ye +see the need of it. Ye’ve a French soldier’s coat upon your back and a +Scotch tongue in your head, to be sure; but so has many an honest fellow +in these days, and I dare say none the worse of it.” + +“So?” said the gentleman in the fine coat: “are ye of the honest party?” + (meaning, Was he a Jacobite? for each side, in these sort of civil +broils, takes the name of honesty for its own). + +“Why, sir,” replied the captain, “I am a true-blue Protestant, and I +thank God for it.” (It was the first word of any religion I had ever +heard from him, but I learnt afterwards he was a great church-goer while +on shore.) “But, for all that,” says he, “I can be sorry to see another +man with his back to the wall.” + +“Can ye so, indeed?” asked the Jacobite. “Well, sir, to be quite plain +with ye, I am one of those honest gentlemen that were in trouble about +the years forty-five and six; and (to be still quite plain with ye) if +I got into the hands of any of the red-coated gentry, it’s like it would +go hard with me. Now, sir, I was for France; and there was a French ship +cruising here to pick me up; but she gave us the go-by in the fog--as I +wish from the heart that ye had done yoursel’! And the best that I can +say is this: If ye can set me ashore where I was going, I have that upon +me will reward you highly for your trouble.” + +“In France?” says the captain. “No, sir; that I cannot do. But where ye +come from--we might talk of that.” + +And then, unhappily, he observed me standing in my corner, and packed +me off to the galley to get supper for the gentleman. I lost no time, +I promise you; and when I came back into the round-house, I found the +gentleman had taken a money-belt from about his waist, and poured out +a guinea or two upon the table. The captain was looking at the guineas, +and then at the belt, and then at the gentleman’s face; and I thought he +seemed excited. + +“Half of it,” he cried, “and I’m your man!” + +The other swept back the guineas into the belt, and put it on again +under his waistcoat. “I have told ye sir,” said he, “that not one doit +of it belongs to me. It belongs to my chieftain,” and here he touched +his hat, “and while I would be but a silly messenger to grudge some of +it that the rest might come safe, I should show myself a hound indeed if +I bought my own carcase any too dear. Thirty guineas on the sea-side, or +sixty if ye set me on the Linnhe Loch. Take it, if ye will; if not, ye +can do your worst.” + +“Ay,” said Hoseason. “And if I give ye over to the soldiers?” + +“Ye would make a fool’s bargain,” said the other. “My chief, let me tell +you, sir, is forfeited, like every honest man in Scotland. His estate +is in the hands of the man they call King George; and it is his officers +that collect the rents, or try to collect them. But for the honour of +Scotland, the poor tenant bodies take a thought upon their chief lying +in exile; and this money is a part of that very rent for which King +George is looking. Now, sir, ye seem to me to be a man that understands +things: bring this money within the reach of Government, and how much of +it’ll come to you?” + +“Little enough, to be sure,” said Hoseason; and then, “if they knew,” he +added, drily. “But I think, if I was to try, that I could hold my tongue +about it.” + +“Ah, but I’ll begowk* ye there!” cried the gentleman. “Play me false, +and I’ll play you cunning. If a hand is laid upon me, they shall ken +what money it is.” + + *Befool. + +“Well,” returned the captain, “what must be must. Sixty guineas, and +done. Here’s my hand upon it.” + +“And here’s mine,” said the other. + +And thereupon the captain went out (rather hurriedly, I thought), and +left me alone in the round-house with the stranger. + +At that period (so soon after the forty-five) there were many exiled +gentlemen coming back at the peril of their lives, either to see their +friends or to collect a little money; and as for the Highland chiefs +that had been forfeited, it was a common matter of talk how their +tenants would stint themselves to send them money, and their clansmen +outface the soldiery to get it in, and run the gauntlet of our great +navy to carry it across. All this I had, of course, heard tell of; and +now I had a man under my eyes whose life was forfeit on all these counts +and upon one more, for he was not only a rebel and a smuggler of rents, +but had taken service with King Louis of France. And as if all this +were not enough, he had a belt full of golden guineas round his loins. +Whatever my opinions, I could not look on such a man without a lively +interest. + +“And so you’re a Jacobite?” said I, as I set meat before him. + +“Ay,” said he, beginning to eat. “And you, by your long face, should be +a Whig?” * + + * Whig or Whigamore was the cant name for those who were + loyal to King George. + +“Betwixt and between,” said I, not to annoy him; for indeed I was as +good a Whig as Mr. Campbell could make me. + +“And that’s naething,” said he. “But I’m saying, Mr. +Betwixt-and-Between,” he added, “this bottle of yours is dry; and it’s +hard if I’m to pay sixty guineas and be grudged a dram upon the back of +it.” + +“I’ll go and ask for the key,” said I, and stepped on deck. + +The fog was as close as ever, but the swell almost down. They had laid +the brig to, not knowing precisely where they were, and the wind (what +little there was of it) not serving well for their true course. Some of +the hands were still hearkening for breakers; but the captain and the +two officers were in the waist with their heads together. It struck me +(I don’t know why) that they were after no good; and the first word I +heard, as I drew softly near, more than confirmed me. + +It was Mr. Riach, crying out as if upon a sudden thought: “Couldn’t we +wile him out of the round-house?” + +“He’s better where he is,” returned Hoseason; “he hasn’t room to use his +sword.” + +“Well, that’s true,” said Riach; “but he’s hard to come at.” + +“Hut!” said Hoseason. “We can get the man in talk, one upon each side, +and pin him by the two arms; or if that’ll not hold, sir, we can make a +run by both the doors and get him under hand before he has the time to +draw.” + +At this hearing, I was seized with both fear and anger at these +treacherous, greedy, bloody men that I sailed with. My first mind was to +run away; my second was bolder. + +“Captain,” said I, “the gentleman is seeking a dram, and the bottle’s +out. Will you give me the key?” + +They all started and turned about. + +“Why, here’s our chance to get the firearms!” + +Riach cried; and then to me: “Hark ye, David,” he said, “do ye ken where +the pistols are?” + +“Ay, ay,” put in Hoseason. “David kens; David’s a good lad. Ye see, +David my man, yon wild Hielandman is a danger to the ship, besides being +a rank foe to King George, God bless him!” + +I had never been so be-Davided since I came on board: but I said Yes, as +if all I heard were quite natural. + +“The trouble is,” resumed the captain, “that all our firelocks, great +and little, are in the round-house under this man’s nose; likewise the +powder. Now, if I, or one of the officers, was to go in and take them, +he would fall to thinking. But a lad like you, David, might snap up a +horn and a pistol or two without remark. And if ye can do it cleverly, +I’ll bear it in mind when it’ll be good for you to have friends; and +that’s when we come to Carolina.” + +Here Mr. Riach whispered him a little. + +“Very right, sir,” said the captain; and then to myself: “And see here, +David, yon man has a beltful of gold, and I give you my word that you +shall have your fingers in it.” + +I told him I would do as he wished, though indeed I had scarce breath to +speak with; and upon that he gave me the key of the spirit locker, and I +began to go slowly back to the round-house. What was I to do? They +were dogs and thieves; they had stolen me from my own country; they had +killed poor Ransome; and was I to hold the candle to another murder? But +then, upon the other hand, there was the fear of death very plain before +me; for what could a boy and a man, if they were as brave as lions, +against a whole ship’s company? + +I was still arguing it back and forth, and getting no great clearness, +when I came into the round-house and saw the Jacobite eating his supper +under the lamp; and at that my mind was made up all in a moment. I have +no credit by it; it was by no choice of mine, but as if by compulsion, +that I walked right up to the table and put my hand on his shoulder. + +“Do ye want to be killed?” said I. He sprang to his feet, and looked a +question at me as clear as if he had spoken. + +“O!” cried I, “they’re all murderers here; it’s a ship full of them! +They’ve murdered a boy already. Now it’s you.” + +“Ay, ay,” said he; “but they have n’t got me yet.” And then looking at me +curiously, “Will ye stand with me?” + +“That will I!” said I. “I am no thief, nor yet murderer. I’ll stand by +you.” + +“Why, then,” said he, “what’s your name?” + +“David Balfour,” said I; and then, thinking that a man with so fine a +coat must like fine people, I added for the first time, “of Shaws.” + +It never occurred to him to doubt me, for a Highlander is used to see +great gentlefolk in great poverty; but as he had no estate of his own, +my words nettled a very childish vanity he had. + +“My name is Stewart,” he said, drawing himself up. “Alan Breck, they +call me. A king’s name is good enough for me, though I bear it plain and +have the name of no farm-midden to clap to the hind-end of it.” + +And having administered this rebuke, as though it were something of a +chief importance, he turned to examine our defences. + +The round-house was built very strong, to support the breaching of the +seas. Of its five apertures, only the skylight and the two doors were +large enough for the passage of a man. The doors, besides, could be +drawn close: they were of stout oak, and ran in grooves, and were fitted +with hooks to keep them either shut or open, as the need arose. The +one that was already shut I secured in this fashion; but when I was +proceeding to slide to the other, Alan stopped me. + +“David,” said he--“for I cannae bring to mind the name of your landed +estate, and so will make so bold as to call you David--that door, being +open, is the best part of my defences.” + +“It would be yet better shut,” says I. + +“Not so, David,” says he. “Ye see, I have but one face; but so long as +that door is open and my face to it, the best part of my enemies will be +in front of me, where I would aye wish to find them.” + +Then he gave me from the rack a cutlass (of which there were a few +besides the firearms), choosing it with great care, shaking his head and +saying he had never in all his life seen poorer weapons; and next he set +me down to the table with a powder-horn, a bag of bullets and all the +pistols, which he bade me charge. + +“And that will be better work, let me tell you,” said he, “for a +gentleman of decent birth, than scraping plates and raxing* drams to a +wheen tarry sailors.” + + *Reaching. + +Thereupon he stood up in the midst with his face to the door, and +drawing his great sword, made trial of the room he had to wield it in. + +“I must stick to the point,” he said, shaking his head; “and that’s a +pity, too. It doesn’t set my genius, which is all for the upper guard. +And, now,” said he, “do you keep on charging the pistols, and give heed +to me.” + +I told him I would listen closely. My chest was tight, my mouth dry, the +light dark to my eyes; the thought of the numbers that were soon to +leap in upon us kept my heart in a flutter: and the sea, which I heard +washing round the brig, and where I thought my dead body would be cast +ere morning, ran in my mind strangely. + +“First of all,” said he, “how many are against us?” + +I reckoned them up; and such was the hurry of my mind, I had to cast the +numbers twice. “Fifteen,” said I. + +Alan whistled. “Well,” said he, “that can’t be cured. And now follow me. +It is my part to keep this door, where I look for the main battle. In +that, ye have no hand. And mind and dinnae fire to this side unless they +get me down; for I would rather have ten foes in front of me than one +friend like you cracking pistols at my back.” + +I told him, indeed I was no great shot. + +“And that’s very bravely said,” he cried, in a great admiration of my +candour. “There’s many a pretty gentleman that wouldnae dare to say it.” + +“But then, sir,” said I, “there is the door behind you, which they may +perhaps break in.” + +“Ay,” said he, “and that is a part of your work. No sooner the pistols +charged, than ye must climb up into yon bed where ye’re handy at the +window; and if they lift hand against the door, ye’re to shoot. But +that’s not all. Let’s make a bit of a soldier of ye, David. What else +have ye to guard?” + +“There’s the skylight,” said I. “But indeed, Mr. Stewart, I would need +to have eyes upon both sides to keep the two of them; for when my face +is at the one, my back is to the other.” + +“And that’s very true,” said Alan. “But have ye no ears to your head?” + +“To be sure!” cried I. “I must hear the bursting of the glass!” + +“Ye have some rudiments of sense,” said Alan, grimly. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE + +But now our time of truce was come to an end. Those on deck had waited +for my coming till they grew impatient; and scarce had Alan spoken, when +the captain showed face in the open door. + +“Stand!” cried Alan, and pointed his sword at him. The captain stood, +indeed; but he neither winced nor drew back a foot. + +“A naked sword?” says he. “This is a strange return for hospitality.” + +“Do ye see me?” said Alan. “I am come of kings; I bear a king’s name. My +badge is the oak. Do ye see my sword? It has slashed the heads off mair +Whigamores than you have toes upon your feet. Call up your vermin to +your back, sir, and fall on! The sooner the clash begins, the sooner +ye’ll taste this steel throughout your vitals.” + +The captain said nothing to Alan, but he looked over at me with an ugly +look. “David,” said he, “I’ll mind this;” and the sound of his voice +went through me with a jar. + +Next moment he was gone. + +“And now,” said Alan, “let your hand keep your head, for the grip is +coming.” + +Alan drew a dirk, which he held in his left hand in case they should run +in under his sword. I, on my part, clambered up into the berth with +an armful of pistols and something of a heavy heart, and set open the +window where I was to watch. It was a small part of the deck that I +could overlook, but enough for our purpose. The sea had gone down, and +the wind was steady and kept the sails quiet; so that there was a +great stillness in the ship, in which I made sure I heard the sound of +muttering voices. A little after, and there came a clash of steel upon +the deck, by which I knew they were dealing out the cutlasses and one +had been let fall; and after that, silence again. + +I do not know if I was what you call afraid; but my heart beat like a +bird’s, both quick and little; and there was a dimness came before my +eyes which I continually rubbed away, and which continually returned. As +for hope, I had none; but only a darkness of despair and a sort of anger +against all the world that made me long to sell my life as dear as I was +able. I tried to pray, I remember, but that same hurry of my mind, like +a man running, would not suffer me to think upon the words; and my chief +wish was to have the thing begin and be done with it. + +It came all of a sudden when it did, with a rush of feet and a roar, and +then a shout from Alan, and a sound of blows and some one crying out +as if hurt. I looked back over my shoulder, and saw Mr. Shuan in the +doorway, crossing blades with Alan. + +“That’s him that killed the boy!” I cried. + +“Look to your window!” said Alan; and as I turned back to my place, I +saw him pass his sword through the mate’s body. + +It was none too soon for me to look to my own part; for my head was +scarce back at the window, before five men, carrying a spare yard for +a battering-ram, ran past me and took post to drive the door in. I had +never fired with a pistol in my life, and not often with a gun; far less +against a fellow-creature. But it was now or never; and just as they +swang the yard, I cried out: “Take that!” and shot into their midst. + +I must have hit one of them, for he sang out and gave back a step, and +the rest stopped as if a little disconcerted. Before they had time to +recover, I sent another ball over their heads; and at my third shot +(which went as wide as the second) the whole party threw down the yard +and ran for it. + +Then I looked round again into the deck-house. The whole place was full +of the smoke of my own firing, just as my ears seemed to be burst with +the noise of the shots. But there was Alan, standing as before; only +now his sword was running blood to the hilt, and himself so swelled +with triumph and fallen into so fine an attitude, that he looked to be +invincible. Right before him on the floor was Mr. Shuan, on his hands +and knees; the blood was pouring from his mouth, and he was sinking +slowly lower, with a terrible, white face; and just as I looked, some of +those from behind caught hold of him by the heels and dragged him bodily +out of the round-house. I believe he died as they were doing it. + +“There’s one of your Whigs for ye!” cried Alan; and then turning to me, +he asked if I had done much execution. + +I told him I had winged one, and thought it was the captain. + +“And I’ve settled two,” says he. “No, there’s not enough blood let; +they’ll be back again. To your watch, David. This was but a dram before +meat.” + +I settled back to my place, re-charging the three pistols I had fired, +and keeping watch with both eye and ear. + +Our enemies were disputing not far off upon the deck, and that so loudly +that I could hear a word or two above the washing of the seas. + +“It was Shuan bauchled* it,” I heard one say. + + * Bungled. + +And another answered him with a “Wheesht, man! He’s paid the piper.” + +After that the voices fell again into the same muttering as before. Only +now, one person spoke most of the time, as though laying down a plan, +and first one and then another answered him briefly, like men taking +orders. By this, I made sure they were coming on again, and told Alan. + +“It’s what we have to pray for,” said he. “Unless we can give them a +good distaste of us, and done with it, there’ll be nae sleep for either +you or me. But this time, mind, they’ll be in earnest.” + +By this, my pistols were ready, and there was nothing to do but listen +and wait. While the brush lasted, I had not the time to think if I was +frighted; but now, when all was still again, my mind ran upon nothing +else. The thought of the sharp swords and the cold steel was strong in +me; and presently, when I began to hear stealthy steps and a brushing +of men’s clothes against the round-house wall, and knew they were taking +their places in the dark, I could have found it in my mind to cry out +aloud. + +All this was upon Alan’s side; and I had begun to think my share of the +fight was at an end, when I heard some one drop softly on the roof above +me. + +Then there came a single call on the sea-pipe, and that was the signal. +A knot of them made one rush of it, cutlass in hand, against the door; +and at the same moment, the glass of the skylight was dashed in a +thousand pieces, and a man leaped through and landed on the floor. +Before he got his feet, I had clapped a pistol to his back, and might +have shot him, too; only at the touch of him (and him alive) my whole +flesh misgave me, and I could no more pull the trigger than I could have +flown. + +He had dropped his cutlass as he jumped, and when he felt the pistol, +whipped straight round and laid hold of me, roaring out an oath; and at +that either my courage came again, or I grew so much afraid as came to +the same thing; for I gave a shriek and shot him in the midst of the +body. He gave the most horrible, ugly groan and fell to the floor. The +foot of a second fellow, whose legs were dangling through the skylight, +struck me at the same time upon the head; and at that I snatched another +pistol and shot this one through the thigh, so that he slipped through +and tumbled in a lump on his companion’s body. There was no talk of +missing, any more than there was time to aim; I clapped the muzzle to +the very place and fired. + +I might have stood and stared at them for long, but I heard Alan shout +as if for help, and that brought me to my senses. + +He had kept the door so long; but one of the seamen, while he was +engaged with others, had run in under his guard and caught him about the +body. Alan was dirking him with his left hand, but the fellow clung like +a leech. Another had broken in and had his cutlass raised. The door was +thronged with their faces. I thought we were lost, and catching up my +cutlass, fell on them in flank. + +But I had not time to be of help. The wrestler dropped at last; and +Alan, leaping back to get his distance, ran upon the others like a +bull, roaring as he went. They broke before him like water, turning, and +running, and falling one against another in their haste. The sword +in his hands flashed like quicksilver into the huddle of our fleeing +enemies; and at every flash there came the scream of a man hurt. I was +still thinking we were lost, when lo! they were all gone, and Alan was +driving them along the deck as a sheep-dog chases sheep. + +Yet he was no sooner out than he was back again, being as cautious as he +was brave; and meanwhile the seamen continued running and crying out as +if he was still behind them; and we heard them tumble one upon another +into the forecastle, and clap-to the hatch upon the top. + +The round-house was like a shambles; three were dead inside, another +lay in his death agony across the threshold; and there were Alan and I +victorious and unhurt. + +He came up to me with open arms. “Come to my arms!” he cried, and +embraced and kissed me hard upon both cheeks. “David,” said he, “I love +you like a brother. And O, man,” he cried in a kind of ecstasy, “am I no +a bonny fighter?” + +Thereupon he turned to the four enemies, passed his sword clean through +each of them, and tumbled them out of doors one after the other. As he +did so, he kept humming and singing and whistling to himself, like a man +trying to recall an air; only what HE was trying was to make one. All +the while, the flush was in his face, and his eyes were as bright as a +five-year-old child’s with a new toy. And presently he sat down upon the +table, sword in hand; the air that he was making all the time began to +run a little clearer, and then clearer still; and then out he burst with +a great voice into a Gaelic song. + +I have translated it here, not in verse (of which I have no skill) but +at least in the king’s English. + +He sang it often afterwards, and the thing became popular; so that I +have heard it and had it explained to me, many’s the time. + + +“This is the song of the sword of Alan; The smith made it, The fire set +it; Now it shines in the hand of Alan Breck. + +“Their eyes were many and bright, Swift were they to behold, Many the +hands they guided: The sword was alone. + +“The dun deer troop over the hill, They are many, the hill is one; The +dun deer vanish, The hill remains. + +“Come to me from the hills of heather, Come from the isles of the sea. O +far-beholding eagles, Here is your meat.” + + +Now this song which he made (both words and music) in the hour of our +victory, is something less than just to me, who stood beside him in +the tussle. Mr. Shuan and five more were either killed outright or +thoroughly disabled; but of these, two fell by my hand, the two that +came by the skylight. Four more were hurt, and of that number, one (and +he not the least important) got his hurt from me. So that, altogether, +I did my fair share both of the killing and the wounding, and might have +claimed a place in Alan’s verses. But poets have to think upon their +rhymes; and in good prose talk, Alan always did me more than justice. + +In the meanwhile, I was innocent of any wrong being done me. For not +only I knew no word of the Gaelic; but what with the long suspense of +the waiting, and the scurry and strain of our two spirts of fighting, +and more than all, the horror I had of some of my own share in it, the +thing was no sooner over than I was glad to stagger to a seat. There was +that tightness on my chest that I could hardly breathe; the thought +of the two men I had shot sat upon me like a nightmare; and all upon a +sudden, and before I had a guess of what was coming, I began to sob and +cry like any child. + +Alan clapped my shoulder, and said I was a brave lad and wanted nothing +but a sleep. + +“I’ll take the first watch,” said he. “Ye’ve done well by me, David, +first and last; and I wouldn’t lose you for all Appin--no, nor for +Breadalbane.” + +So I made up my bed on the floor; and he took the first spell, pistol +in hand and sword on knee, three hours by the captain’s watch upon the +wall. Then he roused me up, and I took my turn of three hours; before +the end of which it was broad day, and a very quiet morning, with a +smooth, rolling sea that tossed the ship and made the blood run to and +fro on the round-house floor, and a heavy rain that drummed upon the +roof. All my watch there was nothing stirring; and by the banging of the +helm, I knew they had even no one at the tiller. Indeed (as I learned +afterwards) there were so many of them hurt or dead, and the rest in so +ill a temper, that Mr. Riach and the captain had to take turn and turn +like Alan and me, or the brig might have gone ashore and nobody the +wiser. It was a mercy the night had fallen so still, for the wind had +gone down as soon as the rain began. Even as it was, I judged by the +wailing of a great number of gulls that went crying and fishing round +the ship, that she must have drifted pretty near the coast or one of +the islands of the Hebrides; and at last, looking out of the door of the +round-house, I saw the great stone hills of Skye on the right hand, and, +a little more astern, the strange isle of Rum. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER + +Alan and I sat down to breakfast about six of the clock. The floor was +covered with broken glass and in a horrid mess of blood, which took away +my hunger. In all other ways we were in a situation not only agreeable +but merry; having ousted the officers from their own cabin, and having +at command all the drink in the ship--both wine and spirits--and all the +dainty part of what was eatable, such as the pickles and the fine sort +of bread. This, of itself, was enough to set us in good humour, but the +richest part of it was this, that the two thirstiest men that ever came +out of Scotland (Mr. Shuan being dead) were now shut in the fore-part of +the ship and condemned to what they hated most--cold water. + +“And depend upon it,” Alan said, “we shall hear more of them ere long. +Ye may keep a man from the fighting, but never from his bottle.” + +We made good company for each other. Alan, indeed, expressed himself +most lovingly; and taking a knife from the table, cut me off one of the +silver buttons from his coat. + +“I had them,” says he, “from my father, Duncan Stewart; and now give ye +one of them to be a keepsake for last night’s work. And wherever ye go +and show that button, the friends of Alan Breck will come around you.” + +He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies; and +indeed, much as I admired his courage, I was always in danger of smiling +at his vanity: in danger, I say, for had I not kept my countenance, I +would be afraid to think what a quarrel might have followed. + +As soon as we were through with our meal he rummaged in the captain’s +locker till he found a clothes-brush; and then taking off his coat, +began to visit his suit and brush away the stains, with such care and +labour as I supposed to have been only usual with women. To be sure, he +had no other; and, besides (as he said), it belonged to a king and so +behoved to be royally looked after. + +For all that, when I saw what care he took to pluck out the threads +where the button had been cut away, I put a higher value on his gift. + +He was still so engaged when we were hailed by Mr. Riach from the deck, +asking for a parley; and I, climbing through the skylight and sitting on +the edge of it, pistol in hand and with a bold front, though inwardly in +fear of broken glass, hailed him back again and bade him speak out. He +came to the edge of the round-house, and stood on a coil of rope, so +that his chin was on a level with the roof; and we looked at each other +awhile in silence. Mr. Riach, as I do not think he had been very forward +in the battle, so he had got off with nothing worse than a blow upon the +cheek: but he looked out of heart and very weary, having been all night +afoot, either standing watch or doctoring the wounded. + +“This is a bad job,” said he at last, shaking his head. + +“It was none of our choosing,” said I. + +“The captain,” says he, “would like to speak with your friend. They +might speak at the window.” + +“And how do we know what treachery he means?” cried I. + +“He means none, David,” returned Mr. Riach, “and if he did, I’ll tell ye +the honest truth, we couldnae get the men to follow.” + +“Is that so?” said I. + +“I’ll tell ye more than that,” said he. “It’s not only the men; it’s me. +I’m frich’ened, Davie.” And he smiled across at me. “No,” he continued, +“what we want is to be shut of him.” + +Thereupon I consulted with Alan, and the parley was agreed to and +parole given upon either side; but this was not the whole of Mr. Riach’s +business, and he now begged me for a dram with such instancy and such +reminders of his former kindness, that at last I handed him a pannikin +with about a gill of brandy. He drank a part, and then carried the rest +down upon the deck, to share it (I suppose) with his superior. + +A little after, the captain came (as was agreed) to one of the windows, +and stood there in the rain, with his arm in a sling, and looking stern +and pale, and so old that my heart smote me for having fired upon him. + +Alan at once held a pistol in his face. + +“Put that thing up!” said the captain. “Have I not passed my word, sir? +or do ye seek to affront me?” + +“Captain,” says Alan, “I doubt your word is a breakable. Last night ye +haggled and argle-bargled like an apple-wife; and then passed me your +word, and gave me your hand to back it; and ye ken very well what was +the upshot. Be damned to your word!” says he. + +“Well, well, sir,” said the captain, “ye’ll get little good by +swearing.” (And truly that was a fault of which the captain was quite +free.) “But we have other things to speak,” he continued, bitterly. +“Ye’ve made a sore hash of my brig; I haven’t hands enough left to work +her; and my first officer (whom I could ill spare) has got your sword +throughout his vitals, and passed without speech. There is nothing left +me, sir, but to put back into the port of Glasgow after hands; and there +(by your leave) ye will find them that are better able to talk to you.” + +“Ay?” said Alan; “and faith, I’ll have a talk with them mysel’! Unless +there’s naebody speaks English in that town, I have a bonny tale for +them. Fifteen tarry sailors upon the one side, and a man and a halfling +boy upon the other! O, man, it’s peetiful!” + +Hoseason flushed red. + +“No,” continued Alan, “that’ll no do. Ye’ll just have to set me ashore +as we agreed.” + +“Ay,” said Hoseason, “but my first officer is dead--ye ken best how. +There’s none of the rest of us acquaint with this coast, sir; and it’s +one very dangerous to ships.” + +“I give ye your choice,” says Alan. “Set me on dry ground in Appin, +or Ardgour, or in Morven, or Arisaig, or Morar; or, in brief, where ye +please, within thirty miles of my own country; except in a country of +the Campbells. That’s a broad target. If ye miss that, ye must be as +feckless at the sailoring as I have found ye at the fighting. Why, my +poor country people in their bit cobles* pass from island to island in +all weathers, ay, and by night too, for the matter of that.” + + *Coble: a small boat used in fishing. + +“A coble’s not a ship, sir,” said the captain. “It has nae draught of +water.” + +“Well, then, to Glasgow if ye list!” says Alan. “We’ll have the laugh of +ye at the least.” + +“My mind runs little upon laughing,” said the captain. “But all this +will cost money, sir.” + +“Well, sir,” says Alan, “I am nae weathercock. Thirty guineas, if ye land +me on the sea-side; and sixty, if ye put me in the Linnhe Loch.” + +“But see, sir, where we lie, we are but a few hours’ sail from +Ardnamurchan,” said Hoseason. “Give me sixty, and I’ll set ye there.” + +“And I’m to wear my brogues and run jeopardy of the red-coats to please +you?” cries Alan. “No, sir; if ye want sixty guineas earn them, and set +me in my own country.” + +“It’s to risk the brig, sir,” said the captain, “and your own lives +along with her.” + +“Take it or want it,” says Alan. + +“Could ye pilot us at all?” asked the captain, who was frowning to +himself. + +“Well, it’s doubtful,” said Alan. “I’m more of a fighting man (as ye +have seen for yoursel’) than a sailor-man. But I have been often enough +picked up and set down upon this coast, and should ken something of the +lie of it.” + +The captain shook his head, still frowning. + +“If I had lost less money on this unchancy cruise,” says he, “I would +see you in a rope’s end before I risked my brig, sir. But be it as ye +will. As soon as I get a slant of wind (and there’s some coming, or I’m +the more mistaken) I’ll put it in hand. But there’s one thing more. We +may meet in with a king’s ship and she may lay us aboard, sir, with no +blame of mine: they keep the cruisers thick upon this coast, ye ken who +for. Now, sir, if that was to befall, ye might leave the money.” + +“Captain,” says Alan, “if ye see a pennant, it shall be your part to +run away. And now, as I hear you’re a little short of brandy in the +fore-part, I’ll offer ye a change: a bottle of brandy against two +buckets of water.” + +That was the last clause of the treaty, and was duly executed on both +sides; so that Alan and I could at last wash out the round-house and be +quit of the memorials of those whom we had slain, and the captain and +Mr. Riach could be happy again in their own way, the name of which was +drink. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +I HEAR OF THE “RED FOX” + +Before we had done cleaning out the round-house, a breeze sprang up from +a little to the east of north. This blew off the rain and brought out +the sun. + +And here I must explain; and the reader would do well to look at a map. +On the day when the fog fell and we ran down Alan’s boat, we had been +running through the Little Minch. At dawn after the battle, we lay +becalmed to the east of the Isle of Canna or between that and Isle +Eriska in the chain of the Long Island. Now to get from there to the +Linnhe Loch, the straight course was through the narrows of the Sound of +Mull. But the captain had no chart; he was afraid to trust his brig so +deep among the islands; and the wind serving well, he preferred to go by +west of Tiree and come up under the southern coast of the great Isle of +Mull. + +All day the breeze held in the same point, and rather freshened than +died down; and towards afternoon, a swell began to set in from round the +outer Hebrides. Our course, to go round about the inner isles, was to +the west of south, so that at first we had this swell upon our beam, and +were much rolled about. But after nightfall, when we had turned the end +of Tiree and began to head more to the east, the sea came right astern. + +Meanwhile, the early part of the day, before the swell came up, was +very pleasant; sailing, as we were, in a bright sunshine and with +many mountainous islands upon different sides. Alan and I sat in the +round-house with the doors open on each side (the wind being straight +astern), and smoked a pipe or two of the captain’s fine tobacco. It was +at this time we heard each other’s stories, which was the more important +to me, as I gained some knowledge of that wild Highland country on which +I was so soon to land. In those days, so close on the back of the great +rebellion, it was needful a man should know what he was doing when he +went upon the heather. + +It was I that showed the example, telling him all my misfortune; which +he heard with great good-nature. Only, when I came to mention that good +friend of mine, Mr. Campbell the minister, Alan fired up and cried out +that he hated all that were of that name. + +“Why,” said I, “he is a man you should be proud to give your hand to.” + +“I know nothing I would help a Campbell to,” says he, “unless it was a +leaden bullet. I would hunt all of that name like blackcocks. If I lay +dying, I would crawl upon my knees to my chamber window for a shot at +one.” + +“Why, Alan,” I cried, “what ails ye at the Campbells?” + +“Well,” says he, “ye ken very well that I am an Appin Stewart, and the +Campbells have long harried and wasted those of my name; ay, and got +lands of us by treachery--but never with the sword,” he cried loudly, +and with the word brought down his fist upon the table. But I paid the +less attention to this, for I knew it was usually said by those who have +the underhand. “There’s more than that,” he continued, “and all in the +same story: lying words, lying papers, tricks fit for a peddler, and the +show of what’s legal over all, to make a man the more angry.” + +“You that are so wasteful of your buttons,” said I, “I can hardly think +you would be a good judge of business.” + +“Ah!” says he, falling again to smiling, “I got my wastefulness from +the same man I got the buttons from; and that was my poor father, Duncan +Stewart, grace be to him! He was the prettiest man of his kindred; and +the best swordsman in the Hielands, David, and that is the same as to +say, in all the world, I should ken, for it was him that taught me. +He was in the Black Watch, when first it was mustered; and, like other +gentlemen privates, had a gillie at his back to carry his firelock for +him on the march. Well, the King, it appears, was wishful to see Hieland +swordsmanship; and my father and three more were chosen out and sent to +London town, to let him see it at the best. So they were had into the +palace and showed the whole art of the sword for two hours at a stretch, +before King George and Queen Carline, and the Butcher Cumberland, and +many more of whom I havenae mind. And when they were through, the King +(for all he was a rank usurper) spoke them fair and gave each man three +guineas in his hand. Now, as they were going out of the palace, they +had a porter’s lodge to go by; and it came in on my father, as he was +perhaps the first private Hieland gentleman that had ever gone by that +door, it was right he should give the poor porter a proper notion of +their quality. So he gives the King’s three guineas into the man’s hand, +as if it was his common custom; the three others that came behind him +did the same; and there they were on the street, never a penny the +better for their pains. Some say it was one, that was the first to fee +the King’s porter; and some say it was another; but the truth of it is, +that it was Duncan Stewart, as I am willing to prove with either sword +or pistol. And that was the father that I had, God rest him!” + +“I think he was not the man to leave you rich,” said I. + +“And that’s true,” said Alan. “He left me my breeks to cover me, and +little besides. And that was how I came to enlist, which was a black +spot upon my character at the best of times, and would still be a sore +job for me if I fell among the red-coats.” + +“What,” cried I, “were you in the English army?” + +“That was I,” said Alan. “But I deserted to the right side at Preston +Pans--and that’s some comfort.” + +I could scarcely share this view: holding desertion under arms for an +unpardonable fault in honour. But for all I was so young, I was wiser +than say my thought. “Dear, dear,” says I, “the punishment is death.” + +“Ay” said he, “if they got hands on me, it would be a short shrift and +a lang tow for Alan! But I have the King of France’s commission in my +pocket, which would aye be some protection.” + +“I misdoubt it much,” said I. + +“I have doubts mysel’,” said Alan drily. + +“And, good heaven, man,” cried I, “you that are a condemned rebel, and a +deserter, and a man of the French King’s--what tempts ye back into this +country? It’s a braving of Providence.” + +“Tut!” says Alan, “I have been back every year since forty-six!” + +“And what brings ye, man?” cried I. + +“Well, ye see, I weary for my friends and country,” said he. “France is +a braw place, nae doubt; but I weary for the heather and the deer. And +then I have bit things that I attend to. Whiles I pick up a few lads +to serve the King of France: recruits, ye see; and that’s aye a +little money. But the heart of the matter is the business of my chief, +Ardshiel.” + +“I thought they called your chief Appin,” said I. + +“Ay, but Ardshiel is the captain of the clan,” said he, which scarcely +cleared my mind. “Ye see, David, he that was all his life so great a +man, and come of the blood and bearing the name of kings, is now brought +down to live in a French town like a poor and private person. He that +had four hundred swords at his whistle, I have seen, with these eyes +of mine, buying butter in the market-place, and taking it home in a +kale-leaf. This is not only a pain but a disgrace to us of his family +and clan. There are the bairns forby, the children and the hope of +Appin, that must be learned their letters and how to hold a sword, in +that far country. Now, the tenants of Appin have to pay a rent to King +George; but their hearts are staunch, they are true to their chief; and +what with love and a bit of pressure, and maybe a threat or two, the +poor folk scrape up a second rent for Ardshiel. Well, David, I’m the +hand that carries it.” And he struck the belt about his body, so that +the guineas rang. + +“Do they pay both?” cried I. + +“Ay, David, both,” says he. + +“What! two rents?” I repeated. + +“Ay, David,” said he. “I told a different tale to yon captain man; but +this is the truth of it. And it’s wonderful to me how little pressure +is needed. But that’s the handiwork of my good kinsman and my father’s +friend, James of the Glens: James Stewart, that is: Ardshiel’s +half-brother. He it is that gets the money in, and does the management.” + +This was the first time I heard the name of that James Stewart, who was +afterwards so famous at the time of his hanging. But I took little heed +at the moment, for all my mind was occupied with the generosity of these +poor Highlanders. + +“I call it noble,” I cried. “I’m a Whig, or little better; but I call it +noble.” + +“Ay” said he, “ye’re a Whig, but ye’re a gentleman; and that’s what does +it. Now, if ye were one of the cursed race of Campbell, ye would gnash +your teeth to hear tell of it. If ye were the Red Fox...” And at that +name, his teeth shut together, and he ceased speaking. I have seen many +a grim face, but never a grimmer than Alan’s when he had named the Red +Fox. + +“And who is the Red Fox?” I asked, daunted, but still curious. + +“Who is he?” cried Alan. “Well, and I’ll tell you that. When the men of +the clans were broken at Culloden, and the good cause went down, and the +horses rode over the fetlocks in the best blood of the north, Ardshiel +had to flee like a poor deer upon the mountains--he and his lady and his +bairns. A sair job we had of it before we got him shipped; and while he +still lay in the heather, the English rogues, that couldnae come at his +life, were striking at his rights. They stripped him of his powers; they +stripped him of his lands; they plucked the weapons from the hands of +his clansmen, that had borne arms for thirty centuries; ay, and the very +clothes off their backs--so that it’s now a sin to wear a tartan plaid, +and a man may be cast into a gaol if he has but a kilt about his legs. +One thing they couldnae kill. That was the love the clansmen bore their +chief. These guineas are the proof of it. And now, in there steps a man, +a Campbell, red-headed Colin of Glenure----” + +“Is that him you call the Red Fox?” said I. + +“Will ye bring me his brush?” cries Alan, fiercely. “Ay, that’s the man. +In he steps, and gets papers from King George, to be so-called King’s +factor on the lands of Appin. And at first he sings small, and is +hail-fellow-well-met with Sheamus--that’s James of the Glens, my +chieftain’s agent. But by-and-by, that came to his ears that I have just +told you; how the poor commons of Appin, the farmers and the crofters +and the boumen, were wringing their very plaids to get a second rent, +and send it over-seas for Ardshiel and his poor bairns. What was it ye +called it, when I told ye?” + +“I called it noble, Alan,” said I. + +“And you little better than a common Whig!” cries Alan. “But when it +came to Colin Roy, the black Campbell blood in him ran wild. He sat +gnashing his teeth at the wine table. What! should a Stewart get a bite +of bread, and him not be able to prevent it? Ah! Red Fox, if ever I +hold you at a gun’s end, the Lord have pity upon ye!” (Alan stopped to +swallow down his anger.) “Well, David, what does he do? He declares all +the farms to let. And, thinks he, in his black heart, ‘I’ll soon get +other tenants that’ll overbid these Stewarts, and Maccolls, and Macrobs’ +(for these are all names in my clan, David); ‘and then,’ thinks he, +‘Ardshiel will have to hold his bonnet on a French roadside.’” + +“Well,” said I, “what followed?” + +Alan laid down his pipe, which he had long since suffered to go out, and +set his two hands upon his knees. + +“Ay,” said he, “ye’ll never guess that! For these same Stewarts, and +Maccolls, and Macrobs (that had two rents to pay, one to King George +by stark force, and one to Ardshiel by natural kindness) offered him a +better price than any Campbell in all broad Scotland; and far he +sent seeking them--as far as to the sides of Clyde and the cross of +Edinburgh--seeking, and fleeching, and begging them to come, where there +was a Stewart to be starved and a red-headed hound of a Campbell to be +pleasured!” + +“Well, Alan,” said I, “that is a strange story, and a fine one, too. And +Whig as I may be, I am glad the man was beaten.” + +“Him beaten?” echoed Alan. “It’s little ye ken of Campbells, and less +of the Red Fox. Him beaten? No: nor will be, till his blood’s on the +hillside! But if the day comes, David man, that I can find time and +leisure for a bit of hunting, there grows not enough heather in all +Scotland to hide him from my vengeance!” + +“Man Alan,” said I, “ye are neither very wise nor very Christian to +blow off so many words of anger. They will do the man ye call the Fox no +harm, and yourself no good. Tell me your tale plainly out. What did he +next?” + +“And that’s a good observe, David,” said Alan. “Troth and indeed, +they will do him no harm; the more’s the pity! And barring that about +Christianity (of which my opinion is quite otherwise, or I would be nae +Christian), I am much of your mind.” + +“Opinion here or opinion there,” said I, “it’s a kent thing that +Christianity forbids revenge.” + +“Ay” said he, “it’s well seen it was a Campbell taught ye! It would be +a convenient world for them and their sort, if there was no such a thing +as a lad and a gun behind a heather bush! But that’s nothing to the +point. This is what he did.” + +“Ay” said I, “come to that.” + +“Well, David,” said he, “since he couldnae be rid of the loyal commons +by fair means, he swore he would be rid of them by foul. Ardshiel was to +starve: that was the thing he aimed at. And since them that fed him in +his exile wouldnae be bought out--right or wrong, he would drive them +out. Therefore he sent for lawyers, and papers, and red-coats to stand +at his back. And the kindly folk of that country must all pack and +tramp, every father’s son out of his father’s house, and out of the +place where he was bred and fed, and played when he was a callant. And +who are to succeed them? Bare-leggit beggars! King George is to whistle +for his rents; he maun dow with less; he can spread his butter thinner: +what cares Red Colin? If he can hurt Ardshiel, he has his wish; if he +can pluck the meat from my chieftain’s table, and the bit toys out of +his children’s hands, he will gang hame singing to Glenure!” + +“Let me have a word,” said I. “Be sure, if they take less rents, be +sure Government has a finger in the pie. It’s not this Campbell’s fault, +man--it’s his orders. And if ye killed this Colin to-morrow, what better +would ye be? There would be another factor in his shoes, as fast as spur +can drive.” + +“Ye’re a good lad in a fight,” said Alan; “but, man! ye have Whig blood +in ye!” + +He spoke kindly enough, but there was so much anger under his contempt +that I thought it was wise to change the conversation. I expressed my +wonder how, with the Highlands covered with troops, and guarded like +a city in a siege, a man in his situation could come and go without +arrest. + +“It’s easier than ye would think,” said Alan. “A bare hillside (ye see) +is like all one road; if there’s a sentry at one place, ye just go by +another. And then the heather’s a great help. And everywhere there are +friends’ houses and friends’ byres and haystacks. And besides, when folk +talk of a country covered with troops, it’s but a kind of a byword at +the best. A soldier covers nae mair of it than his boot-soles. I have +fished a water with a sentry on the other side of the brae, and killed a +fine trout; and I have sat in a heather bush within six feet of another, +and learned a real bonny tune from his whistling. This was it,” said he, +and whistled me the air. + +“And then, besides,” he continued, “it’s no sae bad now as it was in +forty-six. The Hielands are what they call pacified. Small wonder, with +never a gun or a sword left from Cantyre to Cape Wrath, but what tenty* +folk have hidden in their thatch! But what I would like to ken, David, +is just how long? Not long, ye would think, with men like Ardshiel in +exile and men like the Red Fox sitting birling the wine and oppressing +the poor at home. But it’s a kittle thing to decide what folk’ll bear, +and what they will not. Or why would Red Colin be riding his horse all +over my poor country of Appin, and never a pretty lad to put a bullet in +him?” + + * Careful. + +And with this Alan fell into a muse, and for a long time sate very sad +and silent. + +I will add the rest of what I have to say about my friend, that he +was skilled in all kinds of music, but principally pipe-music; was a +well-considered poet in his own tongue; had read several books both in +French and English; was a dead shot, a good angler, and an excellent +fencer with the small sword as well as with his own particular weapon. +For his faults, they were on his face, and I now knew them all. But +the worst of them, his childish propensity to take offence and to pick +quarrels, he greatly laid aside in my case, out of regard for the battle +of the round-house. But whether it was because I had done well myself, +or because I had been a witness of his own much greater prowess, is more +than I can tell. For though he had a great taste for courage in other +men, yet he admired it most in Alan Breck. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE LOSS OF THE BRIG + +It was already late at night, and as dark as it ever would be at that +season of the year (and that is to say, it was still pretty bright), +when Hoseason clapped his head into the round-house door. + +“Here,” said he, “come out and see if ye can pilot.” + +“Is this one of your tricks?” asked Alan. + +“Do I look like tricks?” cries the captain. “I have other things to +think of--my brig’s in danger!” + +By the concerned look of his face, and, above all, by the sharp tones in +which he spoke of his brig, it was plain to both of us he was in deadly +earnest; and so Alan and I, with no great fear of treachery, stepped on +deck. + +The sky was clear; it blew hard, and was bitter cold; a great deal of +daylight lingered; and the moon, which was nearly full, shone brightly. +The brig was close hauled, so as to round the southwest corner of the +Island of Mull, the hills of which (and Ben More above them all, with a +wisp of mist upon the top of it) lay full upon the lar-board bow. Though +it was no good point of sailing for the Covenant, she tore through +the seas at a great rate, pitching and straining, and pursued by the +westerly swell. + +Altogether it was no such ill night to keep the seas in; and I had begun +to wonder what it was that sat so heavily upon the captain, when the +brig rising suddenly on the top of a high swell, he pointed and cried to +us to look. Away on the lee bow, a thing like a fountain rose out of the +moonlit sea, and immediately after we heard a low sound of roaring. + +“What do ye call that?” asked the captain, gloomily. + +“The sea breaking on a reef,” said Alan. “And now ye ken where it is; +and what better would ye have?” + +“Ay,” said Hoseason, “if it was the only one.” + +And sure enough, just as he spoke there came a second fountain farther +to the south. + +“There!” said Hoseason. “Ye see for yourself. If I had kent of these +reefs, if I had had a chart, or if Shuan had been spared, it’s not sixty +guineas, no, nor six hundred, would have made me risk my brig in sic a +stoneyard! But you, sir, that was to pilot us, have ye never a word?” + +“I’m thinking,” said Alan, “these’ll be what they call the Torran +Rocks.” + +“Are there many of them?” says the captain. + +“Truly, sir, I am nae pilot,” said Alan; “but it sticks in my mind there +are ten miles of them.” + +Mr. Riach and the captain looked at each other. + +“There’s a way through them, I suppose?” said the captain. + +“Doubtless,” said Alan, “but where? But it somehow runs in my mind once +more that it is clearer under the land.” + +“So?” said Hoseason. “We’ll have to haul our wind then, Mr. Riach; we’ll +have to come as near in about the end of Mull as we can take her, sir; +and even then we’ll have the land to kep the wind off us, and that +stoneyard on our lee. Well, we’re in for it now, and may as well crack +on.” + +With that he gave an order to the steersman, and sent Riach to the +foretop. There were only five men on deck, counting the officers; these +being all that were fit (or, at least, both fit and willing) for their +work. So, as I say, it fell to Mr. Riach to go aloft, and he sat there +looking out and hailing the deck with news of all he saw. + +“The sea to the south is thick,” he cried; and then, after a while, “it +does seem clearer in by the land.” + +“Well, sir,” said Hoseason to Alan, “we’ll try your way of it. But I +think I might as well trust to a blind fiddler. Pray God you’re right.” + +“Pray God I am!” says Alan to me. “But where did I hear it? Well, well, +it will be as it must.” + +As we got nearer to the turn of the land the reefs began to be sown here +and there on our very path; and Mr. Riach sometimes cried down to us to +change the course. Sometimes, indeed, none too soon; for one reef was +so close on the brig’s weather board that when a sea burst upon it the +lighter sprays fell upon her deck and wetted us like rain. + +The brightness of the night showed us these perils as clearly as by day, +which was, perhaps, the more alarming. It showed me, too, the face of +the captain as he stood by the steersman, now on one foot, now on the +other, and sometimes blowing in his hands, but still listening and +looking and as steady as steel. Neither he nor Mr. Riach had shown +well in the fighting; but I saw they were brave in their own trade, and +admired them all the more because I found Alan very white. + +“Ochone, David,” says he, “this is no the kind of death I fancy!” + +“What, Alan!” I cried, “you’re not afraid?” + +“No,” said he, wetting his lips, “but you’ll allow, yourself, it’s a +cold ending.” + +By this time, now and then sheering to one side or the other to avoid a +reef, but still hugging the wind and the land, we had got round Iona and +begun to come alongside Mull. The tide at the tail of the land ran very +strong, and threw the brig about. Two hands were put to the helm, and +Hoseason himself would sometimes lend a help; and it was strange to +see three strong men throw their weight upon the tiller, and it (like a +living thing) struggle against and drive them back. This would have +been the greater danger had not the sea been for some while free of +obstacles. Mr. Riach, besides, announced from the top that he saw clear +water ahead. + +“Ye were right,” said Hoseason to Alan. “Ye have saved the brig, sir. +I’ll mind that when we come to clear accounts.” And I believe he not +only meant what he said, but would have done it; so high a place did the +Covenant hold in his affections. + +But this is matter only for conjecture, things having gone otherwise +than he forecast. + +“Keep her away a point,” sings out Mr. Riach. “Reef to windward!” + +And just at the same time the tide caught the brig, and threw the wind +out of her sails. She came round into the wind like a top, and the next +moment struck the reef with such a dunch as threw us all flat upon the +deck, and came near to shake Mr. Riach from his place upon the mast. + +I was on my feet in a minute. The reef on which we had struck was close +in under the southwest end of Mull, off a little isle they call Earraid, +which lay low and black upon the larboard. Sometimes the swell broke +clean over us; sometimes it only ground the poor brig upon the reef, so +that we could hear her beat herself to pieces; and what with the great +noise of the sails, and the singing of the wind, and the flying of the +spray in the moonlight, and the sense of danger, I think my head must +have been partly turned, for I could scarcely understand the things I +saw. + +Presently I observed Mr. Riach and the seamen busy round the skiff, and, +still in the same blank, ran over to assist them; and as soon as I set +my hand to work, my mind came clear again. It was no very easy task, for +the skiff lay amidships and was full of hamper, and the breaking of the +heavier seas continually forced us to give over and hold on; but we all +wrought like horses while we could. + +Meanwhile such of the wounded as could move came clambering out of the +fore-scuttle and began to help; while the rest that lay helpless in +their bunks harrowed me with screaming and begging to be saved. + +The captain took no part. It seemed he was struck stupid. He stood +holding by the shrouds, talking to himself and groaning out aloud +whenever the ship hammered on the rock. His brig was like wife and +child to him; he had looked on, day by day, at the mishandling of poor +Ransome; but when it came to the brig, he seemed to suffer along with +her. + +All the time of our working at the boat, I remember only one other +thing: that I asked Alan, looking across at the shore, what country it +was; and he answered, it was the worst possible for him, for it was a +land of the Campbells. + +We had one of the wounded men told off to keep a watch upon the seas and +cry us warning. Well, we had the boat about ready to be launched, when +this man sang out pretty shrill: “For God’s sake, hold on!” We knew +by his tone that it was something more than ordinary; and sure enough, +there followed a sea so huge that it lifted the brig right up and canted +her over on her beam. Whether the cry came too late, or my hold was too +weak, I know not; but at the sudden tilting of the ship I was cast clean +over the bulwarks into the sea. + +I went down, and drank my fill, and then came up, and got a blink of the +moon, and then down again. They say a man sinks a third time for good. I +cannot be made like other folk, then; for I would not like to write how +often I went down, or how often I came up again. All the while, I was +being hurled along, and beaten upon and choked, and then swallowed +whole; and the thing was so distracting to my wits, that I was neither +sorry nor afraid. + +Presently, I found I was holding to a spar, which helped me somewhat. +And then all of a sudden I was in quiet water, and began to come to +myself. + +It was the spare yard I had got hold of, and I was amazed to see how far +I had travelled from the brig. I hailed her, indeed; but it was plain +she was already out of cry. She was still holding together; but whether +or not they had yet launched the boat, I was too far off and too low +down to see. + +While I was hailing the brig, I spied a tract of water lying between +us where no great waves came, but which yet boiled white all over and +bristled in the moon with rings and bubbles. Sometimes the whole tract +swung to one side, like the tail of a live serpent; sometimes, for a +glimpse, it would all disappear and then boil up again. What it was I +had no guess, which for the time increased my fear of it; but I now know +it must have been the roost or tide race, which had carried me away so +fast and tumbled me about so cruelly, and at last, as if tired of that +play, had flung out me and the spare yard upon its landward margin. + +I now lay quite becalmed, and began to feel that a man can die of cold +as well as of drowning. The shores of Earraid were close in; I could see +in the moonlight the dots of heather and the sparkling of the mica in +the rocks. + +“Well,” thought I to myself, “if I cannot get as far as that, it’s +strange!” + +I had no skill of swimming, Essen Water being small in our +neighbourhood; but when I laid hold upon the yard with both arms, and +kicked out with both feet, I soon begun to find that I was moving. Hard +work it was, and mortally slow; but in about an hour of kicking +and splashing, I had got well in between the points of a sandy bay +surrounded by low hills. + +The sea was here quite quiet; there was no sound of any surf; the moon +shone clear; and I thought in my heart I had never seen a place so +desert and desolate. But it was dry land; and when at last it grew so +shallow that I could leave the yard and wade ashore upon my feet, I +cannot tell if I was more tired or more grateful. Both, at least, I was: +tired as I never was before that night; and grateful to God as I trust I +have been often, though never with more cause. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE ISLET + +With my stepping ashore I began the most unhappy part of my adventures. +It was half-past twelve in the morning, and though the wind was broken +by the land, it was a cold night. I dared not sit down (for I thought +I should have frozen), but took off my shoes and walked to and fro upon +the sand, bare-foot, and beating my breast with infinite weariness. +There was no sound of man or cattle; not a cock crew, though it was +about the hour of their first waking; only the surf broke outside in the +distance, which put me in mind of my perils and those of my friend. +To walk by the sea at that hour of the morning, and in a place so +desert-like and lonesome, struck me with a kind of fear. + +As soon as the day began to break I put on my shoes and climbed a +hill--the ruggedest scramble I ever undertook--falling, the whole way, +between big blocks of granite, or leaping from one to another. When I +got to the top the dawn was come. There was no sign of the brig, which +must have lifted from the reef and sunk. The boat, too, was nowhere to +be seen. There was never a sail upon the ocean; and in what I could see +of the land was neither house nor man. + +I was afraid to think what had befallen my shipmates, and afraid to look +longer at so empty a scene. What with my wet clothes and weariness, and +my belly that now began to ache with hunger, I had enough to trouble +me without that. So I set off eastward along the south coast, hoping to +find a house where I might warm myself, and perhaps get news of those I +had lost. And at the worst, I considered the sun would soon rise and dry +my clothes. + +After a little, my way was stopped by a creek or inlet of the sea, which +seemed to run pretty deep into the land; and as I had no means to get +across, I must needs change my direction to go about the end of it. It +was still the roughest kind of walking; indeed the whole, not only of +Earraid, but of the neighbouring part of Mull (which they call the Ross) +is nothing but a jumble of granite rocks with heather in among. At first +the creek kept narrowing as I had looked to see; but presently to my +surprise it began to widen out again. At this I scratched my head, +but had still no notion of the truth: until at last I came to a rising +ground, and it burst upon me all in a moment that I was cast upon a +little barren isle, and cut off on every side by the salt seas. + +Instead of the sun rising to dry me, it came on to rain, with a thick +mist; so that my case was lamentable. + +I stood in the rain, and shivered, and wondered what to do, till it +occurred to me that perhaps the creek was fordable. Back I went to the +narrowest point and waded in. But not three yards from shore, I plumped +in head over ears; and if ever I was heard of more, it was rather by +God’s grace than my own prudence. I was no wetter (for that could hardly +be), but I was all the colder for this mishap; and having lost another +hope was the more unhappy. + +And now, all at once, the yard came in my head. What had carried me +through the roost would surely serve me to cross this little quiet creek +in safety. With that I set off, undaunted, across the top of the isle, +to fetch and carry it back. It was a weary tramp in all ways, and if +hope had not buoyed me up, I must have cast myself down and given up. +Whether with the sea salt, or because I was growing fevered, I was +distressed with thirst, and had to stop, as I went, and drink the peaty +water out of the hags. + +I came to the bay at last, more dead than alive; and at the first +glance, I thought the yard was something farther out than when I left +it. In I went, for the third time, into the sea. The sand was smooth +and firm, and shelved gradually down, so that I could wade out till the +water was almost to my neck and the little waves splashed into my face. +But at that depth my feet began to leave me, and I durst venture in no +farther. As for the yard, I saw it bobbing very quietly some twenty feet +beyond. + +I had borne up well until this last disappointment; but at that I came +ashore, and flung myself down upon the sands and wept. + +The time I spent upon the island is still so horrible a thought to me, +that I must pass it lightly over. In all the books I have read of people +cast away, they had either their pockets full of tools, or a chest of +things would be thrown upon the beach along with them, as if on purpose. +My case was very different. I had nothing in my pockets but money and +Alan’s silver button; and being inland bred, I was as much short of +knowledge as of means. + +I knew indeed that shell-fish were counted good to eat; and among the +rocks of the isle I found a great plenty of limpets, which at first I +could scarcely strike from their places, not knowing quickness to be +needful. There were, besides, some of the little shells that we call +buckies; I think periwinkle is the English name. Of these two I made my +whole diet, devouring them cold and raw as I found them; and so hungry +was I, that at first they seemed to me delicious. + +Perhaps they were out of season, or perhaps there was something wrong +in the sea about my island. But at least I had no sooner eaten my first +meal than I was seized with giddiness and retching, and lay for a long +time no better than dead. A second trial of the same food (indeed I had +no other) did better with me, and revived my strength. But as long as +I was on the island, I never knew what to expect when I had eaten; +sometimes all was well, and sometimes I was thrown into a miserable +sickness; nor could I ever distinguish what particular fish it was that +hurt me. + +All day it streamed rain; the island ran like a sop, there was no dry +spot to be found; and when I lay down that night, between two boulders +that made a kind of roof, my feet were in a bog. + +The second day I crossed the island to all sides. There was no one part +of it better than another; it was all desolate and rocky; nothing living +on it but game birds which I lacked the means to kill, and the gulls +which haunted the outlying rocks in a prodigious number. But the creek, +or strait, that cut off the isle from the main-land of the Ross, opened +out on the north into a bay, and the bay again opened into the Sound of +Iona; and it was the neighbourhood of this place that I chose to be my +home; though if I had thought upon the very name of home in such a spot, +I must have burst out weeping. + +I had good reasons for my choice. There was in this part of the isle a +little hut of a house like a pig’s hut, where fishers used to sleep when +they came there upon their business; but the turf roof of it had fallen +entirely in; so that the hut was of no use to me, and gave me less +shelter than my rocks. What was more important, the shell-fish on which +I lived grew there in great plenty; when the tide was out I could gather +a peck at a time: and this was doubtless a convenience. But the other +reason went deeper. I had become in no way used to the horrid solitude +of the isle, but still looked round me on all sides (like a man that +was hunted), between fear and hope that I might see some human creature +coming. Now, from a little up the hillside over the bay, I could catch a +sight of the great, ancient church and the roofs of the people’s houses +in Iona. And on the other hand, over the low country of the Ross, I saw +smoke go up, morning and evening, as if from a homestead in a hollow of +the land. + +I used to watch this smoke, when I was wet and cold, and had my head +half turned with loneliness; and think of the fireside and the +company, till my heart burned. It was the same with the roofs of Iona. +Altogether, this sight I had of men’s homes and comfortable lives, +although it put a point on my own sufferings, yet it kept hope alive, +and helped me to eat my raw shell-fish (which had soon grown to be a +disgust), and saved me from the sense of horror I had whenever I was +quite alone with dead rocks, and fowls, and the rain, and the cold sea. + +I say it kept hope alive; and indeed it seemed impossible that I should +be left to die on the shores of my own country, and within view of a +church-tower and the smoke of men’s houses. But the second day passed; +and though as long as the light lasted I kept a bright look-out for +boats on the Sound or men passing on the Ross, no help came near me. It +still rained, and I turned in to sleep, as wet as ever, and with a cruel +sore throat, but a little comforted, perhaps, by having said good-night +to my next neighbours, the people of Iona. + +Charles the Second declared a man could stay outdoors more days in the +year in the climate of England than in any other. This was very like a +king, with a palace at his back and changes of dry clothes. But he must +have had better luck on his flight from Worcester than I had on that +miserable isle. It was the height of the summer; yet it rained for more +than twenty-four hours, and did not clear until the afternoon of the +third day. + +This was the day of incidents. In the morning I saw a red deer, a buck +with a fine spread of antlers, standing in the rain on the top of the +island; but he had scarce seen me rise from under my rock, before +he trotted off upon the other side. I supposed he must have swum the +strait; though what should bring any creature to Earraid, was more than +I could fancy. + +A little after, as I was jumping about after my limpets, I was startled +by a guinea-piece, which fell upon a rock in front of me and glanced off +into the sea. When the sailors gave me my money again, they kept back +not only about a third of the whole sum, but my father’s leather purse; +so that from that day out, I carried my gold loose in a pocket with a +button. I now saw there must be a hole, and clapped my hand to the place +in a great hurry. But this was to lock the stable door after the steed +was stolen. I had left the shore at Queensferry with near on fifty +pounds; now I found no more than two guinea-pieces and a silver +shilling. + +It is true I picked up a third guinea a little after, where it lay +shining on a piece of turf. That made a fortune of three pounds and four +shillings, English money, for a lad, the rightful heir of an estate, and +now starving on an isle at the extreme end of the wild Highlands. + +This state of my affairs dashed me still further; and, indeed my plight +on that third morning was truly pitiful. My clothes were beginning to +rot; my stockings in particular were quite worn through, so that my +shanks went naked; my hands had grown quite soft with the continual +soaking; my throat was very sore, my strength had much abated, and my +heart so turned against the horrid stuff I was condemned to eat, that +the very sight of it came near to sicken me. + +And yet the worst was not yet come. + +There is a pretty high rock on the northwest of Earraid, which (because +it had a flat top and overlooked the Sound) I was much in the habit of +frequenting; not that ever I stayed in one place, save when asleep, my +misery giving me no rest. Indeed, I wore myself down with continual and +aimless goings and comings in the rain. + +As soon, however, as the sun came out, I lay down on the top of that +rock to dry myself. The comfort of the sunshine is a thing I cannot +tell. It set me thinking hopefully of my deliverance, of which I had +begun to despair; and I scanned the sea and the Ross with a fresh +interest. On the south of my rock, a part of the island jutted out and +hid the open ocean, so that a boat could thus come quite near me upon +that side, and I be none the wiser. + +Well, all of a sudden, a coble with a brown sail and a pair of fishers +aboard of it, came flying round that corner of the isle, bound for Iona. +I shouted out, and then fell on my knees on the rock and reached up my +hands and prayed to them. They were near enough to hear--I could even +see the colour of their hair; and there was no doubt but they observed +me, for they cried out in the Gaelic tongue, and laughed. But the boat +never turned aside, and flew on, right before my eyes, for Iona. + +I could not believe such wickedness, and ran along the shore from rock +to rock, crying on them piteously even after they were out of reach +of my voice, I still cried and waved to them; and when they were quite +gone, I thought my heart would have burst. All the time of my troubles +I wept only twice. Once, when I could not reach the yard, and now, the +second time, when these fishers turned a deaf ear to my cries. But this +time I wept and roared like a wicked child, tearing up the turf with +my nails, and grinding my face in the earth. If a wish would kill men, +those two fishers would never have seen morning, and I should likely +have died upon my island. + +When I was a little over my anger, I must eat again, but with such +loathing of the mess as I could now scarce control. Sure enough, I +should have done as well to fast, for my fishes poisoned me again. I had +all my first pains; my throat was so sore I could scarce swallow; I had +a fit of strong shuddering, which clucked my teeth together; and there +came on me that dreadful sense of illness, which we have no name for +either in Scotch or English. I thought I should have died, and made my +peace with God, forgiving all men, even my uncle and the fishers; and as +soon as I had thus made up my mind to the worst, clearness came upon me; +I observed the night was falling dry; my clothes were dried a good deal; +truly, I was in a better case than ever before, since I had landed on +the isle; and so I got to sleep at last, with a thought of gratitude. + +The next day (which was the fourth of this horrible life of mine) I +found my bodily strength run very low. But the sun shone, the air was +sweet, and what I managed to eat of the shell-fish agreed well with me +and revived my courage. + +I was scarce back on my rock (where I went always the first thing after +I had eaten) before I observed a boat coming down the Sound, and with +her head, as I thought, in my direction. + +I began at once to hope and fear exceedingly; for I thought these men +might have thought better of their cruelty and be coming back to my +assistance. But another disappointment, such as yesterday’s, was more +than I could bear. I turned my back, accordingly, upon the sea, and +did not look again till I had counted many hundreds. The boat was still +heading for the island. The next time I counted the full thousand, as +slowly as I could, my heart beating so as to hurt me. And then it was +out of all question. She was coming straight to Earraid! + +I could no longer hold myself back, but ran to the seaside and out, +from one rock to another, as far as I could go. It is a marvel I was not +drowned; for when I was brought to a stand at last, my legs shook under +me, and my mouth was so dry, I must wet it with the sea-water before I +was able to shout. + +All this time the boat was coming on; and now I was able to perceive +it was the same boat and the same two men as yesterday. This I knew by +their hair, which the one had of a bright yellow and the other black. +But now there was a third man along with them, who looked to be of a +better class. + +As soon as they were come within easy speech, they let down their sail +and lay quiet. In spite of my supplications, they drew no nearer in, and +what frightened me most of all, the new man tee-hee’d with laughter as +he talked and looked at me. + +Then he stood up in the boat and addressed me a long while, speaking +fast and with many wavings of his hand. I told him I had no Gaelic; and +at this he became very angry, and I began to suspect he thought he was +talking English. Listening very close, I caught the word “whateffer” + several times; but all the rest was Gaelic and might have been Greek and +Hebrew for me. + +“Whatever,” said I, to show him I had caught a word. + +“Yes, yes--yes, yes,” says he, and then he looked at the other men, as +much as to say, “I told you I spoke English,” and began again as hard as +ever in the Gaelic. + +This time I picked out another word, “tide.” Then I had a flash of hope. +I remembered he was always waving his hand towards the mainland of the +Ross. + +“Do you mean when the tide is out--?” I cried, and could not finish. + +“Yes, yes,” said he. “Tide.” + +At that I turned tail upon their boat (where my adviser had once more +begun to tee-hee with laughter), leaped back the way I had come, from +one stone to another, and set off running across the isle as I had never +run before. In about half an hour I came out upon the shores of the +creek; and, sure enough, it was shrunk into a little trickle of water, +through which I dashed, not above my knees, and landed with a shout on +the main island. + +A sea-bred boy would not have stayed a day on Earraid; which is only +what they call a tidal islet, and except in the bottom of the neaps, can +be entered and left twice in every twenty-four hours, either dry-shod, +or at the most by wading. Even I, who had the tide going out and in +before me in the bay, and even watched for the ebbs, the better to get +my shellfish--even I (I say) if I had sat down to think, instead of +raging at my fate, must have soon guessed the secret, and got free. It +was no wonder the fishers had not understood me. The wonder was rather +that they had ever guessed my pitiful illusion, and taken the trouble to +come back. I had starved with cold and hunger on that island for close +upon one hundred hours. But for the fishers, I might have left my bones +there, in pure folly. And even as it was, I had paid for it pretty dear, +not only in past sufferings, but in my present case; being clothed like +a beggar-man, scarce able to walk, and in great pain of my sore throat. + +I have seen wicked men and fools, a great many of both; and I believe +they both get paid in the end; but the fools first. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL + +The Ross of Mull, which I had now got upon, was rugged and trackless, +like the isle I had just left; being all bog, and brier, and big stone. +There may be roads for them that know that country well; but for my part +I had no better guide than my own nose, and no other landmark than Ben +More. + +I aimed as well as I could for the smoke I had seen so often from the +island; and with all my great weariness and the difficulty of the way +came upon the house in the bottom of a little hollow about five or +six at night. It was low and longish, roofed with turf and built of +unmortared stones; and on a mound in front of it, an old gentleman sat +smoking his pipe in the sun. + +With what little English he had, he gave me to understand that my +shipmates had got safe ashore, and had broken bread in that very house +on the day after. + +“Was there one,” I asked, “dressed like a gentleman?” + +He said they all wore rough great-coats; but to be sure, the first of +them, the one that came alone, wore breeches and stockings, while the +rest had sailors’ trousers. + +“Ah,” said I, “and he would have a feathered hat?” + +He told me, no, that he was bareheaded like myself. + +At first I thought Alan might have lost his hat; and then the rain came +in my mind, and I judged it more likely he had it out of harm’s way +under his great-coat. This set me smiling, partly because my friend was +safe, partly to think of his vanity in dress. + +And then the old gentleman clapped his hand to his brow, and cried out +that I must be the lad with the silver button. + +“Why, yes!” said I, in some wonder. + +“Well, then,” said the old gentleman, “I have a word for you, that you +are to follow your friend to his country, by Torosay.” + +He then asked me how I had fared, and I told him my tale. A +south-country man would certainly have laughed; but this old gentleman +(I call him so because of his manners, for his clothes were dropping off +his back) heard me all through with nothing but gravity and pity. When I +had done, he took me by the hand, led me into his hut (it was no better) +and presented me before his wife, as if she had been the Queen and I a +duke. + +The good woman set oat-bread before me and a cold grouse, patting my +shoulder and smiling to me all the time, for she had no English; and the +old gentleman (not to be behind) brewed me a strong punch out of their +country spirit. All the while I was eating, and after that when I was +drinking the punch, I could scarce come to believe in my good fortune; +and the house, though it was thick with the peat-smoke and as full of +holes as a colander, seemed like a palace. + +The punch threw me in a strong sweat and a deep slumber; the good people +let me lie; and it was near noon of the next day before I took the road, +my throat already easier and my spirits quite restored by good fare and +good news. The old gentleman, although I pressed him hard, would take no +money, and gave me an old bonnet for my head; though I am free to own I +was no sooner out of view of the house than I very jealously washed this +gift of his in a wayside fountain. + +Thought I to myself: “If these are the wild Highlanders, I could wish my +own folk wilder.” + +I not only started late, but I must have wandered nearly half the time. +True, I met plenty of people, grubbing in little miserable fields that +would not keep a cat, or herding little kine about the bigness of asses. +The Highland dress being forbidden by law since the rebellion, and the +people condemned to the Lowland habit, which they much disliked, it was +strange to see the variety of their array. Some went bare, only for a +hanging cloak or great-coat, and carried their trousers on their backs +like a useless burthen: some had made an imitation of the tartan with +little parti-coloured stripes patched together like an old wife’s quilt; +others, again, still wore the Highland philabeg, but by putting a few +stitches between the legs transformed it into a pair of trousers like +a Dutchman’s. All those makeshifts were condemned and punished, for the +law was harshly applied, in hopes to break up the clan spirit; but in +that out-of-the-way, sea-bound isle, there were few to make remarks and +fewer to tell tales. + +They seemed in great poverty; which was no doubt natural, now that +rapine was put down, and the chiefs kept no longer an open house; +and the roads (even such a wandering, country by-track as the one +I followed) were infested with beggars. And here again I marked +a difference from my own part of the country. For our Lowland +beggars--even the gownsmen themselves, who beg by patent--had a louting, +flattering way with them, and if you gave them a plaek and asked change, +would very civilly return you a boddle. But these Highland beggars stood +on their dignity, asked alms only to buy snuff (by their account) and +would give no change. + +To be sure, this was no concern of mine, except in so far as it +entertained me by the way. What was much more to the purpose, few had +any English, and these few (unless they were of the brotherhood of +beggars) not very anxious to place it at my service. I knew Torosay +to be my destination, and repeated the name to them and pointed; but +instead of simply pointing in reply, they would give me a screed of the +Gaelic that set me foolish; so it was small wonder if I went out of my +road as often as I stayed in it. + +At last, about eight at night, and already very weary, I came to a lone +house, where I asked admittance, and was refused, until I bethought +me of the power of money in so poor a country, and held up one of my +guineas in my finger and thumb. Thereupon, the man of the house, who had +hitherto pretended to have no English, and driven me from his door by +signals, suddenly began to speak as clearly as was needful, and agreed +for five shillings to give me a night’s lodging and guide me the next +day to Torosay. + +I slept uneasily that night, fearing I should be robbed; but I might +have spared myself the pain; for my host was no robber, only miserably +poor and a great cheat. He was not alone in his poverty; for the next +morning, we must go five miles about to the house of what he called a +rich man to have one of my guineas changed. This was perhaps a rich man +for Mull; he would have scarce been thought so in the south; for it +took all he had--the whole house was turned upside down, and a neighbour +brought under contribution, before he could scrape together twenty +shillings in silver. The odd shilling he kept for himself, protesting he +could ill afford to have so great a sum of money lying “locked up.” For +all that he was very courteous and well spoken, made us both sit down +with his family to dinner, and brewed punch in a fine china bowl, over +which my rascal guide grew so merry that he refused to start. + +I was for getting angry, and appealed to the rich man (Hector Maclean +was his name), who had been a witness to our bargain and to my payment +of the five shillings. But Maclean had taken his share of the punch, +and vowed that no gentleman should leave his table after the bowl was +brewed; so there was nothing for it but to sit and hear Jacobite toasts +and Gaelic songs, till all were tipsy and staggered off to the bed or +the barn for their night’s rest. + +Next day (the fourth of my travels) we were up before five upon the +clock; but my rascal guide got to the bottle at once, and it was three +hours before I had him clear of the house, and then (as you shall hear) +only for a worse disappointment. + +As long as we went down a heathery valley that lay before Mr. Maclean’s +house, all went well; only my guide looked constantly over his shoulder, +and when I asked him the cause, only grinned at me. No sooner, however, +had we crossed the back of a hill, and got out of sight of the house +windows, than he told me Torosay lay right in front, and that a hill-top +(which he pointed out) was my best landmark. + +“I care very little for that,” said I, “since you are going with me.” + +The impudent cheat answered me in the Gaelic that he had no English. + +“My fine fellow,” I said, “I know very well your English comes and goes. +Tell me what will bring it back? Is it more money you wish?” + +“Five shillings mair,” said he, “and hersel’ will bring ye there.” + +I reflected awhile and then offered him two, which he accepted greedily, +and insisted on having in his hands at once “for luck,” as he said, but +I think it was rather for my misfortune. + +The two shillings carried him not quite as many miles; at the end of +which distance, he sat down upon the wayside and took off his brogues +from his feet, like a man about to rest. + +I was now red-hot. “Ha!” said I, “have you no more English?” + +He said impudently, “No.” + +At that I boiled over, and lifted my hand to strike him; and he, drawing +a knife from his rags, squatted back and grinned at me like a wildcat. +At that, forgetting everything but my anger, I ran in upon him, put +aside his knife with my left, and struck him in the mouth with the +right. I was a strong lad and very angry, and he but a little man; and +he went down before me heavily. By good luck, his knife flew out of his +hand as he fell. + +I picked up both that and his brogues, wished him a good morning, and +set off upon my way, leaving him barefoot and disarmed. I chuckled to +myself as I went, being sure I was done with that rogue, for a variety +of reasons. First, he knew he could have no more of my money; next, the +brogues were worth in that country only a few pence; and, lastly, the +knife, which was really a dagger, it was against the law for him to +carry. + +In about half an hour of walk, I overtook a great, ragged man, moving +pretty fast but feeling before him with a staff. He was quite blind, and +told me he was a catechist, which should have put me at my ease. But +his face went against me; it seemed dark and dangerous and secret; and +presently, as we began to go on alongside, I saw the steel butt of a +pistol sticking from under the flap of his coat-pocket. To carry such a +thing meant a fine of fifteen pounds sterling upon a first offence, and +transportation to the colonies upon a second. Nor could I quite see why +a religious teacher should go armed, or what a blind man could be doing +with a pistol. + +I told him about my guide, for I was proud of what I had done, and my +vanity for once got the heels of my prudence. At the mention of the +five shillings he cried out so loud that I made up my mind I should say +nothing of the other two, and was glad he could not see my blushes. + +“Was it too much?” I asked, a little faltering. + +“Too much!” cries he. “Why, I will guide you to Torosay myself for a +dram of brandy. And give you the great pleasure of my company (me that +is a man of some learning) in the bargain.” + +I said I did not see how a blind man could be a guide; but at that he +laughed aloud, and said his stick was eyes enough for an eagle. + +“In the Isle of Mull, at least,” says he, “where I know every stone and +heather-bush by mark of head. See, now,” he said, striking right and +left, as if to make sure, “down there a burn is running; and at the head +of it there stands a bit of a small hill with a stone cocked upon the +top of that; and it’s hard at the foot of the hill, that the way runs by +to Torosay; and the way here, being for droves, is plainly trodden, and +will show grassy through the heather.” + +I had to own he was right in every feature, and told my wonder. + +“Ha!” says he, “that’s nothing. Would ye believe me now, that before +the Act came out, and when there were weepons in this country, I could +shoot? Ay, could I!” cries he, and then with a leer: “If ye had such a +thing as a pistol here to try with, I would show ye how it’s done.” + +I told him I had nothing of the sort, and gave him a wider berth. If +he had known, his pistol stuck at that time quite plainly out of his +pocket, and I could see the sun twinkle on the steel of the butt. But +by the better luck for me, he knew nothing, thought all was covered, and +lied on in the dark. + +He then began to question me cunningly, where I came from, whether I +was rich, whether I could change a five-shilling piece for him (which +he declared he had that moment in his sporran), and all the time he kept +edging up to me and I avoiding him. We were now upon a sort of green +cattle-track which crossed the hills towards Torosay, and we kept +changing sides upon that like dancers in a reel. I had so plainly the +upper-hand that my spirits rose, and indeed I took a pleasure in this +game of blindman’s buff; but the catechist grew angrier and angrier, +and at last began to swear in Gaelic and to strike for my legs with his +staff. + +Then I told him that, sure enough, I had a pistol in my pocket as well +as he, and if he did not strike across the hill due south I would even +blow his brains out. + +He became at once very polite, and after trying to soften me for some +time, but quite in vain, he cursed me once more in Gaelic and took +himself off. I watched him striding along, through bog and brier, +tapping with his stick, until he turned the end of a hill and +disappeared in the next hollow. Then I struck on again for Torosay, much +better pleased to be alone than to travel with that man of learning. +This was an unlucky day; and these two, of whom I had just rid myself, +one after the other, were the two worst men I met with in the Highlands. + +At Torosay, on the Sound of Mull and looking over to the mainland +of Morven, there was an inn with an innkeeper, who was a Maclean, it +appeared, of a very high family; for to keep an inn is thought even more +genteel in the Highlands than it is with us, perhaps as partaking of +hospitality, or perhaps because the trade is idle and drunken. He spoke +good English, and finding me to be something of a scholar, tried me +first in French, where he easily beat me, and then in the Latin, in +which I don’t know which of us did best. This pleasant rivalry put us at +once upon friendly terms; and I sat up and drank punch with him (or to +be more correct, sat up and watched him drink it), until he was so tipsy +that he wept upon my shoulder. + +I tried him, as if by accident, with a sight of Alan’s button; but it +was plain he had never seen or heard of it. Indeed, he bore some grudge +against the family and friends of Ardshiel, and before he was drunk +he read me a lampoon, in very good Latin, but with a very ill meaning, +which he had made in elegiac verses upon a person of that house. + +When I told him of my catechist, he shook his head, and said I was lucky +to have got clear off. “That is a very dangerous man,” he said; “Duncan +Mackiegh is his name; he can shoot by the ear at several yards, and has +been often accused of highway robberies, and once of murder.” + +“The cream of it is,” says I, “that he called himself a catechist.” + +“And why should he not?” says he, “when that is what he is. It was +Maclean of Duart gave it to him because he was blind. But perhaps it was +a peety,” says my host, “for he is always on the road, going from +one place to another to hear the young folk say their religion; and, +doubtless, that is a great temptation to the poor man.” + +At last, when my landlord could drink no more, he showed me to a bed, +and I lay down in very good spirits; having travelled the greater part +of that big and crooked Island of Mull, from Earraid to Torosay, fifty +miles as the crow flies, and (with my wanderings) much nearer a hundred, +in four days and with little fatigue. Indeed I was by far in better +heart and health of body at the end of that long tramp than I had been +at the beginning. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN + +There is a regular ferry from Torosay to Kinlochaline on the mainland. +Both shores of the Sound are in the country of the strong clan of the +Macleans, and the people that passed the ferry with me were almost all +of that clan. The skipper of the boat, on the other hand, was called +Neil Roy Macrob; and since Macrob was one of the names of Alan’s +clansmen, and Alan himself had sent me to that ferry, I was eager to +come to private speech of Neil Roy. + +In the crowded boat this was of course impossible, and the passage was +a very slow affair. There was no wind, and as the boat was wretchedly +equipped, we could pull but two oars on one side, and one on the other. +The men gave way, however, with a good will, the passengers taking +spells to help them, and the whole company giving the time in +Gaelic boat-songs. And what with the songs, and the sea-air, and the +good-nature and spirit of all concerned, and the bright weather, the +passage was a pretty thing to have seen. + +But there was one melancholy part. In the mouth of Loch Aline we found +a great sea-going ship at anchor; and this I supposed at first to be one +of the King’s cruisers which were kept along that coast, both summer +and winter, to prevent communication with the French. As we got a little +nearer, it became plain she was a ship of merchandise; and what still +more puzzled me, not only her decks, but the sea-beach also, were quite +black with people, and skiffs were continually plying to and fro between +them. Yet nearer, and there began to come to our ears a great sound +of mourning, the people on board and those on the shore crying and +lamenting one to another so as to pierce the heart. + +Then I understood this was an emigrant ship bound for the American +colonies. + +We put the ferry-boat alongside, and the exiles leaned over the +bulwarks, weeping and reaching out their hands to my fellow-passengers, +among whom they counted some near friends. How long this might have gone +on I do not know, for they seemed to have no sense of time: but at last +the captain of the ship, who seemed near beside himself (and no great +wonder) in the midst of this crying and confusion, came to the side and +begged us to depart. + +Thereupon Neil sheered off; and the chief singer in our boat struck into +a melancholy air, which was presently taken up both by the emigrants and +their friends upon the beach, so that it sounded from all sides like a +lament for the dying. I saw the tears run down the cheeks of the men and +women in the boat, even as they bent at the oars; and the circumstances +and the music of the song (which is one called “Lochaber no more”) were +highly affecting even to myself. + +At Kinlochaline I got Neil Roy upon one side on the beach, and said I +made sure he was one of Appin’s men. + +“And what for no?” said he. + +“I am seeking somebody,” said I; “and it comes in my mind that you will +have news of him. Alan Breck Stewart is his name.” And very foolishly, +instead of showing him the button, I sought to pass a shilling in his +hand. + +At this he drew back. “I am very much affronted,” he said; “and this is +not the way that one shentleman should behave to another at all. The man +you ask for is in France; but if he was in my sporran,” says he, “and +your belly full of shillings, I would not hurt a hair upon his body.” + +I saw I had gone the wrong way to work, and without wasting time upon +apologies, showed him the button lying in the hollow of my palm. + +“Aweel, aweel,” said Neil; “and I think ye might have begun with that +end of the stick, whatever! But if ye are the lad with the silver +button, all is well, and I have the word to see that ye come safe. But +if ye will pardon me to speak plainly,” says he, “there is a name that +you should never take into your mouth, and that is the name of Alan +Breck; and there is a thing that ye would never do, and that is to offer +your dirty money to a Hieland shentleman.” + +It was not very easy to apologise; for I could scarce tell him (what was +the truth) that I had never dreamed he would set up to be a gentleman +until he told me so. Neil on his part had no wish to prolong his +dealings with me, only to fulfil his orders and be done with it; and +he made haste to give me my route. This was to lie the night in +Kinlochaline in the public inn; to cross Morven the next day to Ardgour, +and lie the night in the house of one John of the Claymore, who was +warned that I might come; the third day, to be set across one loch at +Corran and another at Balachulish, and then ask my way to the house of +James of the Glens, at Aucharn in Duror of Appin. There was a good deal +of ferrying, as you hear; the sea in all this part running deep into the +mountains and winding about their roots. It makes the country strong to +hold and difficult to travel, but full of prodigious wild and dreadful +prospects. + +I had some other advice from Neil: to speak with no one by the way, to +avoid Whigs, Campbells, and the “red-soldiers;” to leave the road and +lie in a bush if I saw any of the latter coming, “for it was never +chancy to meet in with them;” and in brief, to conduct myself like a +robber or a Jacobite agent, as perhaps Neil thought me. + +The inn at Kinlochaline was the most beggarly vile place that ever pigs +were styed in, full of smoke, vermin, and silent Highlanders. I was not +only discontented with my lodging, but with myself for my mismanagement +of Neil, and thought I could hardly be worse off. But very wrongly, as I +was soon to see; for I had not been half an hour at the inn (standing in +the door most of the time, to ease my eyes from the peat smoke) when a +thunderstorm came close by, the springs broke in a little hill on which +the inn stood, and one end of the house became a running water. Places +of public entertainment were bad enough all over Scotland in those days; +yet it was a wonder to myself, when I had to go from the fireside to the +bed in which I slept, wading over the shoes. + +Early in my next day’s journey I overtook a little, stout, solemn man, +walking very slowly with his toes turned out, sometimes reading in +a book and sometimes marking the place with his finger, and dressed +decently and plainly in something of a clerical style. + +This I found to be another catechist, but of a different order from the +blind man of Mull: being indeed one of those sent out by the Edinburgh +Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge, to evangelise the more +savage places of the Highlands. His name was Henderland; he spoke with +the broad south-country tongue, which I was beginning to weary for the +sound of; and besides common countryship, we soon found we had a +more particular bond of interest. For my good friend, the minister of +Essendean, had translated into the Gaelic in his by-time a number of +hymns and pious books which Henderland used in his work, and held in +great esteem. Indeed, it was one of these he was carrying and reading +when we met. + +We fell in company at once, our ways lying together as far as to +Kingairloch. As we went, he stopped and spoke with all the wayfarers +and workers that we met or passed; and though of course I could not tell +what they discoursed about, yet I judged Mr. Henderland must be well +liked in the countryside, for I observed many of them to bring out their +mulls and share a pinch of snuff with him. + +I told him as far in my affairs as I judged wise; as far, that is, +as they were none of Alan’s; and gave Balachulish as the place I was +travelling to, to meet a friend; for I thought Aucharn, or even Duror, +would be too particular, and might put him on the scent. + +On his part, he told me much of his work and the people he worked among, +the hiding priests and Jacobites, the Disarming Act, the dress, and many +other curiosities of the time and place. He seemed moderate; blaming +Parliament in several points, and especially because they had framed the +Act more severely against those who wore the dress than against those +who carried weapons. + +This moderation put it in my mind to question him of the Red Fox and the +Appin tenants; questions which, I thought, would seem natural enough in +the mouth of one travelling to that country. + + + +He said it was a bad business. “It’s wonderful,” said he, “where the +tenants find the money, for their life is mere starvation. (Ye don’t +carry such a thing as snuff, do ye, Mr. Balfour? No. Well, I’m better +wanting it.) But these tenants (as I was saying) are doubtless partly +driven to it. James Stewart in Duror (that’s him they call James of the +Glens) is half-brother to Ardshiel, the captain of the clan; and he is +a man much looked up to, and drives very hard. And then there’s one they +call Alan Breck--” + +“Ah!” I cried, “what of him?” + +“What of the wind that bloweth where it listeth?” said Henderland. “He’s +here and awa; here to-day and gone to-morrow: a fair heather-cat. He +might be glowering at the two of us out of yon whin-bush, and I wouldnae +wonder! Ye’ll no carry such a thing as snuff, will ye?” + +I told him no, and that he had asked the same thing more than once. + +“It’s highly possible,” said he, sighing. “But it seems strange ye +shouldnae carry it. However, as I was saying, this Alan Breck is a bold, +desperate customer, and well kent to be James’s right hand. His life +is forfeit already; he would boggle at naething; and maybe, if a +tenant-body was to hang back he would get a dirk in his wame.” + +“You make a poor story of it all, Mr. Henderland,” said I. “If it is all +fear upon both sides, I care to hear no more of it.” + +“Na,” said Mr. Henderland, “but there’s love too, and self-denial that +should put the like of you and me to shame. There’s something fine about +it; no perhaps Christian, but humanly fine. Even Alan Breck, by all that +I hear, is a chield to be respected. There’s many a lying sneck-draw +sits close in kirk in our own part of the country, and stands well in +the world’s eye, and maybe is a far worse man, Mr. Balfour, than yon +misguided shedder of man’s blood. Ay, ay, we might take a lesson by +them.--Ye’ll perhaps think I’ve been too long in the Hielands?” he +added, smiling to me. + +I told him not at all; that I had seen much to admire among the +Highlanders; and if he came to that, Mr. Campbell himself was a +Highlander. + +“Ay,” said he, “that’s true. It’s a fine blood.” + +“And what is the King’s agent about?” I asked. + +“Colin Campbell?” says Henderland. “Putting his head in a bees’ byke!” + +“He is to turn the tenants out by force, I hear?” said I. + +“Yes,” says he, “but the business has gone back and forth, as folk say. +First, James of the Glens rode to Edinburgh, and got some lawyer (a +Stewart, nae doubt--they all hing together like bats in a steeple) and +had the proceedings stayed. And then Colin Campbell cam’ in again, and +had the upper-hand before the Barons of Exchequer. And now they tell me +the first of the tenants are to flit to-morrow. It’s to begin at Duror +under James’s very windows, which doesnae seem wise by my humble way of +it.” + +“Do you think they’ll fight?” I asked. + +“Well,” says Henderland, “they’re disarmed--or supposed to be--for +there’s still a good deal of cold iron lying by in quiet places. And +then Colin Campbell has the sogers coming. But for all that, if I was +his lady wife, I wouldnae be well pleased till I got him home again. +They’re queer customers, the Appin Stewarts.” + +I asked if they were worse than their neighbours. + +“No they,” said he. “And that’s the worst part of it. For if Colin Roy +can get his business done in Appin, he has it all to begin again in the +next country, which they call Mamore, and which is one of the countries +of the Camerons. He’s King’s Factor upon both, and from both he has to +drive out the tenants; and indeed, Mr. Balfour (to be open with ye), +it’s my belief that if he escapes the one lot, he’ll get his death by +the other.” + +So we continued talking and walking the great part of the day; until +at last, Mr. Henderland after expressing his delight in my company, and +satisfaction at meeting with a friend of Mr. Campbell’s (“whom,” says +he, “I will make bold to call that sweet singer of our covenanted +Zion”), proposed that I should make a short stage, and lie the night in +his house a little beyond Kingairloch. To say truth, I was overjoyed; +for I had no great desire for John of the Claymore, and since my double +misadventure, first with the guide and next with the gentleman skipper, +I stood in some fear of any Highland stranger. Accordingly we shook +hands upon the bargain, and came in the afternoon to a small house, +standing alone by the shore of the Linnhe Loch. The sun was already gone +from the desert mountains of Ardgour upon the hither side, but shone on +those of Appin on the farther; the loch lay as still as a lake, only +the gulls were crying round the sides of it; and the whole place seemed +solemn and uncouth. + +We had no sooner come to the door of Mr. Henderland’s dwelling, than to +my great surprise (for I was now used to the politeness of Highlanders) +he burst rudely past me, dashed into the room, caught up a jar and +a small horn-spoon, and began ladling snuff into his nose in most +excessive quantities. Then he had a hearty fit of sneezing, and looked +round upon me with a rather silly smile. + +“It’s a vow I took,” says he. “I took a vow upon me that I wouldnae +carry it. Doubtless it’s a great privation; but when I think upon +the martyrs, not only to the Scottish Covenant but to other points of +Christianity, I think shame to mind it.” + +As soon as we had eaten (and porridge and whey was the best of the good +man’s diet) he took a grave face and said he had a duty to perform by +Mr. Campbell, and that was to inquire into my state of mind towards God. +I was inclined to smile at him since the business of the snuff; but he +had not spoken long before he brought the tears into my eyes. There are +two things that men should never weary of, goodness and humility; we get +none too much of them in this rough world among cold, proud people; but +Mr. Henderland had their very speech upon his tongue. And though I was a +good deal puffed up with my adventures and with having come off, as the +saying is, with flying colours; yet he soon had me on my knees beside a +simple, poor old man, and both proud and glad to be there. + +Before we went to bed he offered me sixpence to help me on my way, out +of a scanty store he kept in the turf wall of his house; at which excess +of goodness I knew not what to do. But at last he was so earnest with me +that I thought it the more mannerly part to let him have his way, and so +left him poorer than myself. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX + +The next day Mr. Henderland found for me a man who had a boat of his own +and was to cross the Linnhe Loch that afternoon into Appin, fishing. Him +he prevailed on to take me, for he was one of his flock; and in this way +I saved a long day’s travel and the price of the two public ferries I +must otherwise have passed. + +It was near noon before we set out; a dark day with clouds, and the sun +shining upon little patches. The sea was here very deep and still, +and had scarce a wave upon it; so that I must put the water to my lips +before I could believe it to be truly salt. The mountains on either side +were high, rough and barren, very black and gloomy in the shadow of +the clouds, but all silver-laced with little watercourses where the sun +shone upon them. It seemed a hard country, this of Appin, for people to +care as much about as Alan did. + +There was but one thing to mention. A little after we had started, +the sun shone upon a little moving clump of scarlet close in along the +water-side to the north. It was much of the same red as soldiers’ coats; +every now and then, too, there came little sparks and lightnings, as +though the sun had struck upon bright steel. + +I asked my boatman what it should be, and he answered he supposed it was +some of the red soldiers coming from Fort William into Appin, against +the poor tenantry of the country. Well, it was a sad sight to me; +and whether it was because of my thoughts of Alan, or from something +prophetic in my bosom, although this was but the second time I had seen +King George’s troops, I had no good will to them. + +At last we came so near the point of land at the entering in of Loch +Leven that I begged to be set on shore. My boatman (who was an honest +fellow and mindful of his promise to the catechist) would fain have +carried me on to Balachulish; but as this was to take me farther from my +secret destination, I insisted, and was set on shore at last under the +wood of Lettermore (or Lettervore, for I have heard it both ways) in +Alan’s country of Appin. + +This was a wood of birches, growing on a steep, craggy side of a +mountain that overhung the loch. It had many openings and ferny howes; +and a road or bridle track ran north and south through the midst of +it, by the edge of which, where was a spring, I sat down to eat some +oat-bread of Mr. Henderland’s and think upon my situation. + +Here I was not only troubled by a cloud of stinging midges, but far more +by the doubts of my mind. What I ought to do, why I was going to join +myself with an outlaw and a would-be murderer like Alan, whether I +should not be acting more like a man of sense to tramp back to the south +country direct, by my own guidance and at my own charges, and what Mr. +Campbell or even Mr. Henderland would think of me if they should ever +learn my folly and presumption: these were the doubts that now began to +come in on me stronger than ever. + +As I was so sitting and thinking, a sound of men and horses came to me +through the wood; and presently after, at a turning of the road, I saw +four travellers come into view. The way was in this part so rough and +narrow that they came single and led their horses by the reins. The +first was a great, red-headed gentleman, of an imperious and flushed +face, who carried his hat in his hand and fanned himself, for he was in +a breathing heat. The second, by his decent black garb and white wig, +I correctly took to be a lawyer. The third was a servant, and wore some +part of his clothes in tartan, which showed that his master was of a +Highland family, and either an outlaw or else in singular good odour +with the Government, since the wearing of tartan was against the Act. If +I had been better versed in these things, I would have known the tartan +to be of the Argyle (or Campbell) colours. This servant had a good-sized +portmanteau strapped on his horse, and a net of lemons (to brew punch +with) hanging at the saddle-bow; as was often enough the custom with +luxurious travellers in that part of the country. + +As for the fourth, who brought up the tail, I had seen his like before, +and knew him at once to be a sheriff’s officer. + +I had no sooner seen these people coming than I made up my mind (for no +reason that I can tell) to go through with my adventure; and when the +first came alongside of me, I rose up from the bracken and asked him the +way to Aucharn. + +He stopped and looked at me, as I thought, a little oddly; and then, +turning to the lawyer, “Mungo,” said he, “there’s many a man would think +this more of a warning than two pyats. Here am I on my road to Duror on +the job ye ken; and here is a young lad starts up out of the bracken, +and speers if I am on the way to Aucharn.” + +“Glenure,” said the other, “this is an ill subject for jesting.” + +These two had now drawn close up and were gazing at me, while the two +followers had halted about a stone-cast in the rear. + +“And what seek ye in Aucharn?” said Colin Roy Campbell of Glenure, him +they called the Red Fox; for he it was that I had stopped. + +“The man that lives there,” said I. + +“James of the Glens,” says Glenure, musingly; and then to the lawyer: +“Is he gathering his people, think ye?” + +“Anyway,” says the lawyer, “we shall do better to bide where we are, and +let the soldiers rally us.” + +“If you are concerned for me,” said I, “I am neither of his people nor +yours, but an honest subject of King George, owing no man and fearing no +man.” + +“Why, very well said,” replies the Factor. “But if I may make so bold as +ask, what does this honest man so far from his country? and why does +he come seeking the brother of Ardshiel? I have power here, I must tell +you. I am King’s Factor upon several of these estates, and have twelve +files of soldiers at my back.” + +“I have heard a waif word in the country,” said I, a little nettled, +“that you were a hard man to drive.” + +He still kept looking at me, as if in doubt. + +“Well,” said he, at last, “your tongue is bold; but I am no unfriend to +plainness. If ye had asked me the way to the door of James Stewart on +any other day but this, I would have set ye right and bidden ye God +speed. But to-day--eh, Mungo?” And he turned again to look at the +lawyer. + +But just as he turned there came the shot of a firelock from higher up +the hill; and with the very sound of it Glenure fell upon the road. + +“O, I am dead!” he cried, several times over. + +The lawyer had caught him up and held him in his arms, the servant +standing over and clasping his hands. And now the wounded man looked +from one to another with scared eyes, and there was a change in his +voice, that went to the heart. + +“Take care of yourselves,” says he. “I am dead.” + +He tried to open his clothes as if to look for the wound, but his +fingers slipped on the buttons. With that he gave a great sigh, his head +rolled on his shoulder, and he passed away. + +The lawyer said never a word, but his face was as sharp as a pen and +as white as the dead man’s; the servant broke out into a great noise of +crying and weeping, like a child; and I, on my side, stood staring at +them in a kind of horror. The sheriff’s officer had run back at the +first sound of the shot, to hasten the coming of the soldiers. + +At last the lawyer laid down the dead man in his blood upon the road, +and got to his own feet with a kind of stagger. + +I believe it was his movement that brought me to my senses; for he had +no sooner done so than I began to scramble up the hill, crying out, “The +murderer! the murderer!” + +So little a time had elapsed, that when I got to the top of the first +steepness, and could see some part of the open mountain, the murderer +was still moving away at no great distance. He was a big man, in a black +coat, with metal buttons, and carried a long fowling-piece. + +“Here!” I cried. “I see him!” + +At that the murderer gave a little, quick look over his shoulder, and +began to run. The next moment he was lost in a fringe of birches; then +he came out again on the upper side, where I could see him climbing like +a jackanapes, for that part was again very steep; and then he dipped +behind a shoulder, and I saw him no more. + +All this time I had been running on my side, and had got a good way up, +when a voice cried upon me to stand. + +I was at the edge of the upper wood, and so now, when I halted and +looked back, I saw all the open part of the hill below me. + +The lawyer and the sheriff’s officer were standing just above the road, +crying and waving on me to come back; and on their left, the red-coats, +musket in hand, were beginning to struggle singly out of the lower wood. + +“Why should I come back?” I cried. “Come you on!” + +“Ten pounds if ye take that lad!” cried the lawyer. “He’s an accomplice. +He was posted here to hold us in talk.” + +At that word (which I could hear quite plainly, though it was to the +soldiers and not to me that he was crying it) my heart came in my mouth +with quite a new kind of terror. Indeed, it is one thing to stand the +danger of your life, and quite another to run the peril of both life and +character. The thing, besides, had come so suddenly, like thunder out of +a clear sky, that I was all amazed and helpless. + +The soldiers began to spread, some of them to run, and others to put up +their pieces and cover me; and still I stood. + +“Jock* in here among the trees,” said a voice close by. + + * Duck. + +Indeed, I scarce knew what I was doing, but I obeyed; and as I did so, I +heard the firelocks bang and the balls whistle in the birches. + +Just inside the shelter of the trees I found Alan Breck standing, with +a fishing-rod. He gave me no salutation; indeed it was no time for +civilities; only “Come!” says he, and set off running along the side of +the mountain towards Balachulish; and I, like a sheep, to follow him. + +Now we ran among the birches; now stooping behind low humps upon the +mountain-side; now crawling on all fours among the heather. The pace was +deadly: my heart seemed bursting against my ribs; and I had neither time +to think nor breath to speak with. Only I remember seeing with wonder, +that Alan every now and then would straighten himself to his full height +and look back; and every time he did so, there came a great far-away +cheering and crying of the soldiers. + +Quarter of an hour later, Alan stopped, clapped down flat in the +heather, and turned to me. + +“Now,” said he, “it’s earnest. Do as I do, for your life.” + +And at the same speed, but now with infinitely more precaution, we +traced back again across the mountain-side by the same way that we had +come, only perhaps higher; till at last Alan threw himself down in the +upper wood of Lettermore, where I had found him at the first, and lay, +with his face in the bracken, panting like a dog. + +My own sides so ached, my head so swam, my tongue so hung out of my +mouth with heat and dryness, that I lay beside him like one dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +I TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE + +Alan was the first to come round. He rose, went to the border of the +wood, peered out a little, and then returned and sat down. + +“Well,” said he, “yon was a hot burst, David.” + +I said nothing, nor so much as lifted my face. I had seen murder done, +and a great, ruddy, jovial gentleman struck out of life in a moment; the +pity of that sight was still sore within me, and yet that was but a part +of my concern. Here was murder done upon the man Alan hated; here was +Alan skulking in the trees and running from the troops; and whether his +was the hand that fired or only the head that ordered, signified +but little. By my way of it, my only friend in that wild country was +blood-guilty in the first degree; I held him in horror; I could not look +upon his face; I would have rather lain alone in the rain on my cold +isle, than in that warm wood beside a murderer. + +“Are ye still wearied?” he asked again. + +“No,” said I, still with my face in the bracken; “no, I am not wearied +now, and I can speak. You and me must twine,” * I said. “I liked you very +well, Alan, but your ways are not mine, and they’re not God’s: and the +short and the long of it is just that we must twine.” + + * Part. + +“I will hardly twine from ye, David, without some kind of reason for +the same,” said Alan, mighty gravely. “If ye ken anything against +my reputation, it’s the least thing that ye should do, for old +acquaintance’ sake, to let me hear the name of it; and if ye have only +taken a distaste to my society, it will be proper for me to judge if I’m +insulted.” + +“Alan,” said I, “what is the sense of this? Ye ken very well yon +Campbell-man lies in his blood upon the road.” + +He was silent for a little; then says he, “Did ever ye hear tell of the +story of the Man and the Good People?”--by which he meant the fairies. + +“No,” said I, “nor do I want to hear it.” + +“With your permission, Mr. Balfour, I will tell it you, whatever,” says +Alan. “The man, ye should ken, was cast upon a rock in the sea, where +it appears the Good People were in use to come and rest as they went +through to Ireland. The name of this rock is called the Skerryvore, and +it’s not far from where we suffered ship-wreck. Well, it seems the man +cried so sore, if he could just see his little bairn before he died! +that at last the king of the Good People took peety upon him, and sent +one flying that brought back the bairn in a poke* and laid it down +beside the man where he lay sleeping. So when the man woke, there was a +poke beside him and something into the inside of it that moved. Well, it +seems he was one of these gentry that think aye the worst of things; and +for greater security, he stuck his dirk throughout that poke before he +opened it, and there was his bairn dead. I am thinking to myself, Mr. +Balfour, that you and the man are very much alike.” + + * Bag. + +“Do you mean you had no hand in it?” cried I, sitting up. + +“I will tell you first of all, Mr. Balfour of Shaws, as one friend to +another,” said Alan, “that if I were going to kill a gentleman, it would +not be in my own country, to bring trouble on my clan; and I would not +go wanting sword and gun, and with a long fishing-rod upon my back.” + +“Well,” said I, “that’s true!” + +“And now,” continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying his hand upon +it in a certain manner, “I swear upon the Holy Iron I had neither art +nor part, act nor thought in it.” + +“I thank God for that!” cried I, and offered him my hand. + +He did not appear to see it. + +“And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell!” said he. “They are +not so scarce, that I ken!” + +“At least,” said I, “you cannot justly blame me, for you know very +well what you told me in the brig. But the temptation and the act are +different, I thank God again for that. We may all be tempted; but +to take a life in cold blood, Alan!” And I could say no more for the +moment. “And do you know who did it?” I added. “Do you know that man in +the black coat?” + +“I have nae clear mind about his coat,” said Alan cunningly, “but it +sticks in my head that it was blue.” + +“Blue or black, did ye know him?” said I. + +“I couldnae just conscientiously swear to him,” says Alan. “He gaed very +close by me, to be sure, but it’s a strange thing that I should just +have been tying my brogues.” + +“Can you swear that you don’t know him, Alan?” I cried, half angered, +half in a mind to laugh at his evasions. + +“Not yet,” says he; “but I’ve a grand memory for forgetting, David.” + +“And yet there was one thing I saw clearly,” said I; “and that was, that +you exposed yourself and me to draw the soldiers.” + +“It’s very likely,” said Alan; “and so would any gentleman. You and me +were innocent of that transaction.” + +“The better reason, since we were falsely suspected, that we should get +clear,” I cried. “The innocent should surely come before the guilty.” + +“Why, David,” said he, “the innocent have aye a chance to get assoiled +in court; but for the lad that shot the bullet, I think the best place +for him will be the heather. Them that havenae dipped their hands in any +little difficulty, should be very mindful of the case of them that have. +And that is the good Christianity. For if it was the other way round +about, and the lad whom I couldnae just clearly see had been in our +shoes, and we in his (as might very well have been), I think we would be +a good deal obliged to him oursel’s if he would draw the soldiers.” + +When it came to this, I gave Alan up. But he looked so innocent all the +time, and was in such clear good faith in what he said, and so ready to +sacrifice himself for what he deemed his duty, that my mouth was closed. +Mr. Henderland’s words came back to me: that we ourselves might take a +lesson by these wild Highlanders. Well, here I had taken mine. Alan’s +morals were all tail-first; but he was ready to give his life for them, +such as they were. + +“Alan,” said I, “I’ll not say it’s the good Christianity as I understand +it, but it’s good enough. And here I offer ye my hand for the second +time.” + +Whereupon he gave me both of his, saying surely I had cast a spell upon +him, for he could forgive me anything. Then he grew very grave, and said +we had not much time to throw away, but must both flee that country: he, +because he was a deserter, and the whole of Appin would now be searched +like a chamber, and every one obliged to give a good account of himself; +and I, because I was certainly involved in the murder. + +“O!” says I, willing to give him a little lesson, “I have no fear of the +justice of my country.” + +“As if this was your country!” said he. “Or as if ye would be tried +here, in a country of Stewarts!” + +“It’s all Scotland,” said I. + +“Man, I whiles wonder at ye,” said Alan. “This is a Campbell that’s been +killed. Well, it’ll be tried in Inverara, the Campbells’ head place; +with fifteen Campbells in the jury-box and the biggest Campbell of all +(and that’s the Duke) sitting cocking on the bench. Justice, David? +The same justice, by all the world, as Glenure found awhile ago at the +roadside.” + +This frightened me a little, I confess, and would have frightened me +more if I had known how nearly exact were Alan’s predictions; indeed +it was but in one point that he exaggerated, there being but eleven +Campbells on the jury; though as the other four were equally in the +Duke’s dependence, it mattered less than might appear. Still, I cried +out that he was unjust to the Duke of Argyle, who (for all he was a +Whig) was yet a wise and honest nobleman. + +“Hoot!” said Alan, “the man’s a Whig, nae doubt; but I would never deny +he was a good chieftain to his clan. And what would the clan think if +there was a Campbell shot, and naebody hanged, and their own chief +the Justice General? But I have often observed,” says Alan, “that you +Low-country bodies have no clear idea of what’s right and wrong.” + +At this I did at last laugh out aloud, when to my surprise, Alan joined +in, and laughed as merrily as myself. + +“Na, na,” said he, “we’re in the Hielands, David; and when I tell ye +to run, take my word and run. Nae doubt it’s a hard thing to skulk and +starve in the Heather, but it’s harder yet to lie shackled in a red-coat +prison.” + +I asked him whither we should flee; and as he told me “to the Lowlands,” + I was a little better inclined to go with him; for, indeed, I was +growing impatient to get back and have the upper-hand of my uncle. +Besides, Alan made so sure there would be no question of justice in the +matter, that I began to be afraid he might be right. Of all deaths, I +would truly like least to die by the gallows; and the picture of that +uncanny instrument came into my head with extraordinary clearness (as I +had once seen it engraved at the top of a pedlar’s ballad) and took away +my appetite for courts of justice. + +“I’ll chance it, Alan,” said I. “I’ll go with you.” + +“But mind you,” said Alan, “it’s no small thing. Ye maun lie bare and +hard, and brook many an empty belly. Your bed shall be the moorcock’s, +and your life shall be like the hunted deer’s, and ye shall sleep with +your hand upon your weapons. Ay, man, ye shall taigle many a weary foot, +or we get clear! I tell ye this at the start, for it’s a life that I ken +well. But if ye ask what other chance ye have, I answer: Nane. Either +take to the heather with me, or else hang.” + +“And that’s a choice very easily made,” said I; and we shook hands upon +it. + +“And now let’s take another keek at the red-coats,” says Alan, and he +led me to the north-eastern fringe of the wood. + +Looking out between the trees, we could see a great side of mountain, +running down exceeding steep into the waters of the loch. It was a rough +part, all hanging stone, and heather, and big scrogs of birchwood; and +away at the far end towards Balachulish, little wee red soldiers were +dipping up and down over hill and howe, and growing smaller every +minute. There was no cheering now, for I think they had other uses +for what breath was left them; but they still stuck to the trail, and +doubtless thought that we were close in front of them. + +Alan watched them, smiling to himself. + +“Ay,” said he, “they’ll be gey weary before they’ve got to the end of +that employ! And so you and me, David, can sit down and eat a bite, and +breathe a bit longer, and take a dram from my bottle. Then we’ll strike +for Aucharn, the house of my kinsman, James of the Glens, where I must +get my clothes, and my arms, and money to carry us along; and then, +David, we’ll cry, ‘Forth, Fortune!’ and take a cast among the heather.” + +So we sat again and ate and drank, in a place whence we could see the +sun going down into a field of great, wild, and houseless mountains, +such as I was now condemned to wander in with my companion. Partly as +we so sat, and partly afterwards, on the way to Aucharn, each of us +narrated his adventures; and I shall here set down so much of Alan’s as +seems either curious or needful. + +It appears he ran to the bulwarks as soon as the wave was passed; saw +me, and lost me, and saw me again, as I tumbled in the roost; and at +last had one glimpse of me clinging on the yard. It was this that put +him in some hope I would maybe get to land after all, and made him leave +those clues and messages which had brought me (for my sins) to that +unlucky country of Appin. + +In the meanwhile, those still on the brig had got the skiff launched, +and one or two were on board of her already, when there came a second +wave greater than the first, and heaved the brig out of her place, and +would certainly have sent her to the bottom, had she not struck and +caught on some projection of the reef. When she had struck first, it had +been bows-on, so that the stern had hitherto been lowest. But now her +stern was thrown in the air, and the bows plunged under the sea; and +with that, the water began to pour into the fore-scuttle like the +pouring of a mill-dam. + +It took the colour out of Alan’s face, even to tell what followed. +For there were still two men lying impotent in their bunks; and these, +seeing the water pour in and thinking the ship had foundered, began to +cry out aloud, and that with such harrowing cries that all who were on +deck tumbled one after another into the skiff and fell to their oars. +They were not two hundred yards away, when there came a third great sea; +and at that the brig lifted clean over the reef; her canvas filled for +a moment, and she seemed to sail in chase of them, but settling all the +while; and presently she drew down and down, as if a hand was drawing +her; and the sea closed over the Covenant of Dysart. + +Never a word they spoke as they pulled ashore, being stunned with the +horror of that screaming; but they had scarce set foot upon the beach +when Hoseason woke up, as if out of a muse, and bade them lay hands upon +Alan. They hung back indeed, having little taste for the employment; +but Hoseason was like a fiend, crying that Alan was alone, that he had +a great sum about him, that he had been the means of losing the brig and +drowning all their comrades, and that here was both revenge and wealth +upon a single cast. It was seven against one; in that part of the shore +there was no rock that Alan could set his back to; and the sailors began +to spread out and come behind him. + +“And then,” said Alan, “the little man with the red head--I havenae mind +of the name that he is called.” + +“Riach,” said I. + +“Ay” said Alan, “Riach! Well, it was him that took up the clubs for me, +asked the men if they werenae feared of a judgment, and, says he ‘Dod, +I’ll put my back to the Hielandman’s mysel’.’ That’s none such an +entirely bad little man, yon little man with the red head,” said Alan. +“He has some spunks of decency.” + +“Well,” said I, “he was kind to me in his way.” + +“And so he was to Alan,” said he; “and by my troth, I found his way a +very good one! But ye see, David, the loss of the ship and the cries of +these poor lads sat very ill upon the man; and I’m thinking that would +be the cause of it.” + +“Well, I would think so,” says I; “for he was as keen as any of the rest +at the beginning. But how did Hoseason take it?” + +“It sticks in my mind that he would take it very ill,” says Alan. “But +the little man cried to me to run, and indeed I thought it was a good +observe, and ran. The last that I saw they were all in a knot upon the +beach, like folk that were not agreeing very well together.” + +“What do you mean by that?” said I. + +“Well, the fists were going,” said Alan; “and I saw one man go down like +a pair of breeks. But I thought it would be better no to wait. Ye see +there’s a strip of Campbells in that end of Mull, which is no good +company for a gentleman like me. If it hadnae been for that I would have +waited and looked for ye mysel’, let alone giving a hand to the little +man.” (It was droll how Alan dwelt on Mr. Riach’s stature, for, to say +the truth, the one was not much smaller than the other.) “So,” says he, +continuing, “I set my best foot forward, and whenever I met in with any +one I cried out there was a wreck ashore. Man, they didnae stop to fash +with me! Ye should have seen them linking for the beach! And when they +got there they found they had had the pleasure of a run, which is aye +good for a Campbell. I’m thinking it was a judgment on the clan that the +brig went down in the lump and didnae break. But it was a very unlucky +thing for you, that same; for if any wreck had come ashore they would +have hunted high and low, and would soon have found ye.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE HOUSE OF FEAR + +Night fell as we were walking, and the clouds, which had broken up in +the afternoon, settled in and thickened, so that it fell, for the +season of the year, extremely dark. The way we went was over rough +mountainsides; and though Alan pushed on with an assured manner, I could +by no means see how he directed himself. + +At last, about half-past ten of the clock, we came to the top of a brae, +and saw lights below us. It seemed a house door stood open and let out a +beam of fire and candle-light; and all round the house and steading +five or six persons were moving hurriedly about, each carrying a lighted +brand. + +“James must have tint his wits,” said Alan. “If this was the soldiers +instead of you and me, he would be in a bonny mess. But I dare say he’ll +have a sentry on the road, and he would ken well enough no soldiers +would find the way that we came.” + +Hereupon he whistled three times, in a particular manner. It was strange +to see how, at the first sound of it, all the moving torches came to +a stand, as if the bearers were affrighted; and how, at the third, the +bustle began again as before. + +Having thus set folks’ minds at rest, we came down the brae, and were +met at the yard gate (for this place was like a well-doing farm) by +a tall, handsome man of more than fifty, who cried out to Alan in the +Gaelic. + +“James Stewart,” said Alan, “I will ask ye to speak in Scotch, for here +is a young gentleman with me that has nane of the other. This is him,” + he added, putting his arm through mine, “a young gentleman of the +Lowlands, and a laird in his country too, but I am thinking it will be +the better for his health if we give his name the go-by.” + +James of the Glens turned to me for a moment, and greeted me courteously +enough; the next he had turned to Alan. + +“This has been a dreadful accident,” he cried. “It will bring trouble on +the country.” And he wrung his hands. + +“Hoots!” said Alan, “ye must take the sour with the sweet, man. Colin +Roy is dead, and be thankful for that!” + +“Ay” said James, “and by my troth, I wish he was alive again! It’s all +very fine to blow and boast beforehand; but now it’s done, Alan; and +who’s to bear the wyte* of it? The accident fell out in Appin--mind ye +that, Alan; it’s Appin that must pay; and I am a man that has a family.” + + * Blame. + +While this was going on I looked about me at the servants. Some were on +ladders, digging in the thatch of the house or the farm buildings, +from which they brought out guns, swords, and different weapons of +war; others carried them away; and by the sound of mattock blows from +somewhere farther down the brae, I suppose they buried them. Though they +were all so busy, there prevailed no kind of order in their efforts; men +struggled together for the same gun and ran into each other with their +burning torches; and James was continually turning about from his talk +with Alan, to cry out orders which were apparently never understood. The +faces in the torchlight were like those of people overborne with hurry +and panic; and though none spoke above his breath, their speech sounded +both anxious and angry. + +It was about this time that a lassie came out of the house carrying +a pack or bundle; and it has often made me smile to think how Alan’s +instinct awoke at the mere sight of it. + +“What’s that the lassie has?” he asked. + +“We’re just setting the house in order, Alan,” said James, in his +frightened and somewhat fawning way. “They’ll search Appin with candles, +and we must have all things straight. We’re digging the bit guns and +swords into the moss, ye see; and these, I am thinking, will be your ain +French clothes. We’ll be to bury them, I believe.” + +“Bury my French clothes!” cried Alan. “Troth, no!” And he laid hold upon +the packet and retired into the barn to shift himself, recommending me +in the meanwhile to his kinsman. + +James carried me accordingly into the kitchen, and sat down with me at +table, smiling and talking at first in a very hospitable manner. But +presently the gloom returned upon him; he sat frowning and biting his +fingers; only remembered me from time to time; and then gave me but a +word or two and a poor smile, and back into his private terrors. His +wife sat by the fire and wept, with her face in her hands; his eldest +son was crouched upon the floor, running over a great mass of papers and +now and again setting one alight and burning it to the bitter end; all +the while a servant lass with a red face was rummaging about the room, +in a blind hurry of fear, and whimpering as she went; and every now and +again one of the men would thrust in his face from the yard, and cry for +orders. + +At last James could keep his seat no longer, and begged my permission to +be so unmannerly as walk about. “I am but poor company altogether, sir,” + says he, “but I can think of nothing but this dreadful accident, and the +trouble it is like to bring upon quite innocent persons.” + +A little after he observed his son burning a paper which he thought +should have been kept; and at that his excitement burst out so that it +was painful to witness. He struck the lad repeatedly. + +“Are you gone gyte?” * he cried. “Do you wish to hang your father?” and +forgetful of my presence, carried on at him a long time together in the +Gaelic, the young man answering nothing; only the wife, at the name of +hanging, throwing her apron over her face and sobbing out louder than +before. + + * Mad. + +This was all wretched for a stranger like myself to hear and see; and +I was right glad when Alan returned, looking like himself in his fine +French clothes, though (to be sure) they were now grown almost too +battered and withered to deserve the name of fine. I was then taken out +in my turn by another of the sons, and given that change of clothing of +which I had stood so long in need, and a pair of Highland brogues made +of deer-leather, rather strange at first, but after a little practice +very easy to the feet. + +By the time I came back Alan must have told his story; for it seemed +understood that I was to fly with him, and they were all busy upon our +equipment. They gave us each a sword and pistols, though I professed my +inability to use the former; and with these, and some ammunition, a bag +of oatmeal, an iron pan, and a bottle of right French brandy, we were +ready for the heather. Money, indeed, was lacking. I had about two +guineas left; Alan’s belt having been despatched by another hand, that +trusty messenger had no more than seventeen-pence to his whole fortune; +and as for James, it appears he had brought himself so low with journeys +to Edinburgh and legal expenses on behalf of the tenants, that he could +only scrape together three-and-five-pence-halfpenny, the most of it in +coppers. + +“This’ll no do,” said Alan. + +“Ye must find a safe bit somewhere near by,” said James, “and get word +sent to me. Ye see, ye’ll have to get this business prettily off, Alan. +This is no time to be stayed for a guinea or two. They’re sure to get +wind of ye, sure to seek ye, and by my way of it, sure to lay on ye the +wyte of this day’s accident. If it falls on you, it falls on me that am +your near kinsman and harboured ye while ye were in the country. And if +it comes on me----” he paused, and bit his fingers, with a white face. +“It would be a painful thing for our friends if I was to hang,” said he. + +“It would be an ill day for Appin,” says Alan. + +“It’s a day that sticks in my throat,” said James. “O man, man, man--man +Alan! you and me have spoken like two fools!” he cried, striking his +hand upon the wall so that the house rang again. + +“Well, and that’s true, too,” said Alan; “and my friend from the +Lowlands here” (nodding at me) “gave me a good word upon that head, if I +would only have listened to him.” + +“But see here,” said James, returning to his former manner, “if they lay +me by the heels, Alan, it’s then that you’ll be needing the money. For +with all that I have said and that you have said, it will look very +black against the two of us; do ye mark that? Well, follow me out, and +ye’ll, I’ll see that I’ll have to get a paper out against ye mysel’; +have to offer a reward for ye; ay, will I! It’s a sore thing to do +between such near friends; but if I get the dirdum* of this dreadful +accident, I’ll have to fend for myself, man. Do ye see that?” + + * Blame. + +He spoke with a pleading earnestness, taking Alan by the breast of the +coat. + +“Ay” said Alan, “I see that.” + +“And ye’ll have to be clear of the country, Alan--ay, and clear of +Scotland--you and your friend from the Lowlands, too. For I’ll have to +paper your friend from the Lowlands. Ye see that, Alan--say that ye see +that!” + +I thought Alan flushed a bit. “This is unco hard on me that brought him +here, James,” said he, throwing his head back. “It’s like making me a +traitor!” + +“Now, Alan, man!” cried James. “Look things in the face! He’ll be +papered anyway; Mungo Campbell’ll be sure to paper him; what matters +if I paper him too? And then, Alan, I am a man that has a family.” And +then, after a little pause on both sides, “And, Alan, it’ll be a jury of +Campbells,” said he. + +“There’s one thing,” said Alan, musingly, “that naebody kens his name.” + +“Nor yet they shallnae, Alan! There’s my hand on that,” cried James, for +all the world as if he had really known my name and was foregoing some +advantage. “But just the habit he was in, and what he looked like, and +his age, and the like? I couldnae well do less.” + +“I wonder at your father’s son,” cried Alan, sternly. “Would ye sell the +lad with a gift? Would ye change his clothes and then betray him?” + +“No, no, Alan,” said James. “No, no: the habit he took off--the habit +Mungo saw him in.” But I thought he seemed crestfallen; indeed, he was +clutching at every straw, and all the time, I dare say, saw the faces of +his hereditary foes on the bench, and in the jury-box, and the gallows +in the background. + +“Well, sir,” says Alan, turning to me, “what say ye to that? Ye are here +under the safeguard of my honour; and it’s my part to see nothing done +but what shall please you.” + +“I have but one word to say,” said I; “for to all this dispute I am a +perfect stranger. But the plain common-sense is to set the blame where +it belongs, and that is on the man who fired the shot. Paper him, as ye +call it, set the hunt on him; and let honest, innocent folk show their +faces in safety.” But at this both Alan and James cried out in horror; +bidding me hold my tongue, for that was not to be thought of; and asking +me what the Camerons would think? (which confirmed me, it must have been +a Cameron from Mamore that did the act) and if I did not see that the +lad might be caught? “Ye havenae surely thought of that?” said they, +with such innocent earnestness, that my hands dropped at my side and I +despaired of argument. + +“Very well, then,” said I, “paper me, if you please, paper Alan, paper +King George! We’re all three innocent, and that seems to be what’s +wanted. But at least, sir,” said I to James, recovering from my little +fit of annoyance, “I am Alan’s friend, and if I can be helpful to +friends of his, I will not stumble at the risk.” + +I thought it best to put a fair face on my consent, for I saw Alan +troubled; and, besides (thinks I to myself), as soon as my back is +turned, they will paper me, as they call it, whether I consent or not. +But in this I saw I was wrong; for I had no sooner said the words, than +Mrs. Stewart leaped out of her chair, came running over to us, and wept +first upon my neck and then on Alan’s, blessing God for our goodness to +her family. + +“As for you, Alan, it was no more than your bounden duty,” she said. +“But for this lad that has come here and seen us at our worst, and seen +the goodman fleeching like a suitor, him that by rights should give his +commands like any king--as for you, my lad,” she says, “my heart is wae +not to have your name, but I have your face; and as long as my heart +beats under my bosom, I will keep it, and think of it, and bless it.” + And with that she kissed me, and burst once more into such sobbing, that +I stood abashed. + +“Hoot, hoot,” said Alan, looking mighty silly. “The day comes unco soon +in this month of July; and to-morrow there’ll be a fine to-do in Appin, +a fine riding of dragoons, and crying of ‘Cruachan!’ * and running of +red-coats; and it behoves you and me to the sooner be gone.” + + * The rallying-word of the Campbells. + +Thereupon we said farewell, and set out again, bending somewhat +eastwards, in a fine mild dark night, and over much the same broken +country as before. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS + +Sometimes we walked, sometimes ran; and as it drew on to morning, walked +ever the less and ran the more. Though, upon its face, that country +appeared to be a desert, yet there were huts and houses of the people, +of which we must have passed more than twenty, hidden in quiet places of +the hills. When we came to one of these, Alan would leave me in the way, +and go himself and rap upon the side of the house and speak awhile at +the window with some sleeper awakened. This was to pass the news; which, +in that country, was so much of a duty that Alan must pause to attend to +it even while fleeing for his life; and so well attended to by others, +that in more than half of the houses where we called they had heard +already of the murder. In the others, as well as I could make out +(standing back at a distance and hearing a strange tongue), the news was +received with more of consternation than surprise. + +For all our hurry, day began to come in while we were still far from any +shelter. It found us in a prodigious valley, strewn with rocks and where +ran a foaming river. Wild mountains stood around it; there grew there +neither grass nor trees; and I have sometimes thought since then, that +it may have been the valley called Glencoe, where the massacre was in +the time of King William. But for the details of our itinerary, I am all +to seek; our way lying now by short cuts, now by great detours; our pace +being so hurried, our time of journeying usually by night; and the names +of such places as I asked and heard being in the Gaelic tongue and the +more easily forgotten. + +The first peep of morning, then, showed us this horrible place, and I +could see Alan knit his brow. + +“This is no fit place for you and me,” he said. “This is a place they’re +bound to watch.” + +And with that he ran harder than ever down to the water-side, in a part +where the river was split in two among three rocks. It went through with +a horrid thundering that made my belly quake; and there hung over the +lynn a little mist of spray. Alan looked neither to the right nor to the +left, but jumped clean upon the middle rock and fell there on his hands +and knees to check himself, for that rock was small and he might have +pitched over on the far side. I had scarce time to measure the distance +or to understand the peril before I had followed him, and he had caught +and stopped me. + +So there we stood, side by side upon a small rock slippery with spray, +a far broader leap in front of us, and the river dinning upon all sides. +When I saw where I was, there came on me a deadly sickness of fear, +and I put my hand over my eyes. Alan took me and shook me; I saw he +was speaking, but the roaring of the falls and the trouble of my mind +prevented me from hearing; only I saw his face was red with anger, and +that he stamped upon the rock. The same look showed me the water raging +by, and the mist hanging in the air: and with that I covered my eyes +again and shuddered. + +The next minute Alan had set the brandy bottle to my lips, and forced +me to drink about a gill, which sent the blood into my head again. Then, +putting his hands to his mouth, and his mouth to my ear, he shouted, +“Hang or drown!” and turning his back upon me, leaped over the farther +branch of the stream, and landed safe. + +I was now alone upon the rock, which gave me the more room; the brandy +was singing in my ears; I had this good example fresh before me, and +just wit enough to see that if I did not leap at once, I should never +leap at all. I bent low on my knees and flung myself forth, with +that kind of anger of despair that has sometimes stood me in stead of +courage. Sure enough, it was but my hands that reached the full length; +these slipped, caught again, slipped again; and I was sliddering back +into the lynn, when Alan seized me, first by the hair, then by the +collar, and with a great strain dragged me into safety. + +Never a word he said, but set off running again for his life, and I must +stagger to my feet and run after him. I had been weary before, but now +I was sick and bruised, and partly drunken with the brandy; I kept +stumbling as I ran, I had a stitch that came near to overmaster me; and +when at last Alan paused under a great rock that stood there among a +number of others, it was none too soon for David Balfour. + +A great rock I have said; but by rights it was two rocks leaning +together at the top, both some twenty feet high, and at the first sight +inaccessible. Even Alan (though you may say he had as good as four +hands) failed twice in an attempt to climb them; and it was only at the +third trial, and then by standing on my shoulders and leaping up with +such force as I thought must have broken my collar-bone, that he secured +a lodgment. Once there, he let down his leathern girdle; and with the +aid of that and a pair of shallow footholds in the rock, I scrambled up +beside him. + +Then I saw why we had come there; for the two rocks, being both somewhat +hollow on the top and sloping one to the other, made a kind of dish or +saucer, where as many as three or four men might have lain hidden. + +All this while Alan had not said a word, and had run and climbed with +such a savage, silent frenzy of hurry, that I knew that he was in mortal +fear of some miscarriage. Even now we were on the rock he said nothing, +nor so much as relaxed the frowning look upon his face; but clapped flat +down, and keeping only one eye above the edge of our place of shelter +scouted all round the compass. The dawn had come quite clear; we could +see the stony sides of the valley, and its bottom, which was bestrewed +with rocks, and the river, which went from one side to another, and made +white falls; but nowhere the smoke of a house, nor any living creature +but some eagles screaming round a cliff. + +Then at last Alan smiled. + +“Ay” said he, “now we have a chance;” and then looking at me with some +amusement, “Ye’re no very gleg* at the jumping,” said he. + + * Brisk. + +At this I suppose I coloured with mortification, for he added at once, +“Hoots! small blame to ye! To be feared of a thing and yet to do it, is +what makes the prettiest kind of a man. And then there was water there, +and water’s a thing that dauntons even me. No, no,” said Alan, “it’s no +you that’s to blame, it’s me.” + +I asked him why. + +“Why,” said he, “I have proved myself a gomeral this night. For first +of all I take a wrong road, and that in my own country of Appin; so that +the day has caught us where we should never have been; and thanks to +that, we lie here in some danger and mair discomfort. And next (which is +the worst of the two, for a man that has been so much among the heather +as myself) I have come wanting a water-bottle, and here we lie for a +long summer’s day with naething but neat spirit. Ye may think that a +small matter; but before it comes night, David, ye’ll give me news of +it.” + +I was anxious to redeem my character, and offered, if he would pour out +the brandy, to run down and fill the bottle at the river. + +“I wouldnae waste the good spirit either,” says he. “It’s been a good +friend to you this night; or in my poor opinion, ye would still be +cocking on yon stone. And what’s mair,” says he, “ye may have observed +(you that’s a man of so much penetration) that Alan Breck Stewart was +perhaps walking quicker than his ordinar’.” + +“You!” I cried, “you were running fit to burst.” + +“Was I so?” said he. “Well, then, ye may depend upon it, there was nae +time to be lost. And now here is enough said; gang you to your sleep, +lad, and I’ll watch.” + +Accordingly, I lay down to sleep; a little peaty earth had drifted in +between the top of the two rocks, and some bracken grew there, to be a +bed to me; the last thing I heard was still the crying of the eagles. + +I dare say it would be nine in the morning when I was roughly awakened, +and found Alan’s hand pressed upon my mouth. + +“Wheesht!” he whispered. “Ye were snoring.” + +“Well,” said I, surprised at his anxious and dark face, “and why not?” + +He peered over the edge of the rock, and signed to me to do the like. + +It was now high day, cloudless, and very hot. The valley was as clear as +in a picture. About half a mile up the water was a camp of red-coats; a +big fire blazed in their midst, at which some were cooking; and near by, +on the top of a rock about as high as ours, there stood a sentry, with +the sun sparkling on his arms. All the way down along the river-side +were posted other sentries; here near together, there widelier +scattered; some planted like the first, on places of command, some +on the ground level and marching and counter-marching, so as to meet +half-way. Higher up the glen, where the ground was more open, the chain +of posts was continued by horse-soldiers, whom we could see in the +distance riding to and fro. Lower down, the infantry continued; but +as the stream was suddenly swelled by the confluence of a considerable +burn, they were more widely set, and only watched the fords and +stepping-stones. + +I took but one look at them, and ducked again into my place. It was +strange indeed to see this valley, which had lain so solitary in the +hour of dawn, bristling with arms and dotted with the red coats and +breeches. + +“Ye see,” said Alan, “this was what I was afraid of, Davie: that they +would watch the burn-side. They began to come in about two hours ago, +and, man! but ye’re a grand hand at the sleeping! We’re in a narrow +place. If they get up the sides of the hill, they could easy spy us with +a glass; but if they’ll only keep in the foot of the valley, we’ll do +yet. The posts are thinner down the water; and, come night, we’ll try +our hand at getting by them.” + +“And what are we to do till night?” I asked. + +“Lie here,” says he, “and birstle.” + +That one good Scotch word, “birstle,” was indeed the most of the story +of the day that we had now to pass. You are to remember that we lay on +the bare top of a rock, like scones upon a girdle; the sun beat upon us +cruelly; the rock grew so heated, a man could scarce endure the touch of +it; and the little patch of earth and fern, which kept cooler, was only +large enough for one at a time. We took turn about to lie on the naked +rock, which was indeed like the position of that saint that was martyred +on a gridiron; and it ran in my mind how strange it was, that in the +same climate and at only a few days’ distance, I should have suffered +so cruelly, first from cold upon my island and now from heat upon this +rock. + +All the while we had no water, only raw brandy for a drink, which was +worse than nothing; but we kept the bottle as cool as we could, burying +it in the earth, and got some relief by bathing our breasts and temples. + +The soldiers kept stirring all day in the bottom of the valley, now +changing guard, now in patrolling parties hunting among the rocks. These +lay round in so great a number, that to look for men among them was like +looking for a needle in a bottle of hay; and being so hopeless a task, +it was gone about with the less care. Yet we could see the soldiers +pike their bayonets among the heather, which sent a cold thrill into my +vitals; and they would sometimes hang about our rock, so that we scarce +dared to breathe. + +It was in this way that I first heard the right English speech; one +fellow as he went by actually clapping his hand upon the sunny face of +the rock on which we lay, and plucking it off again with an oath. “I +tell you it’s ‘ot,” says he; and I was amazed at the clipping tones and +the odd sing-song in which he spoke, and no less at that strange trick +of dropping out the letter “h.” To be sure, I had heard Ransome; but he +had taken his ways from all sorts of people, and spoke so imperfectly +at the best, that I set down the most of it to childishness. My surprise +was all the greater to hear that manner of speaking in the mouth of a +grown man; and indeed I have never grown used to it; nor yet altogether +with the English grammar, as perhaps a very critical eye might here and +there spy out even in these memoirs. + +The tediousness and pain of these hours upon the rock grew only the +greater as the day went on; the rock getting still the hotter and the +sun fiercer. There were giddiness, and sickness, and sharp pangs like +rheumatism, to be supported. I minded then, and have often minded since, +on the lines in our Scotch psalm:-- + + “The moon by night thee shall not smite, + Nor yet the sun by day;” + +and indeed it was only by God’s blessing that we were neither of us +sun-smitten. + +At last, about two, it was beyond men’s bearing, and there was now +temptation to resist, as well as pain to thole. For the sun being now +got a little into the west, there came a patch of shade on the east side +of our rock, which was the side sheltered from the soldiers. + +“As well one death as another,” said Alan, and slipped over the edge and +dropped on the ground on the shadowy side. + +I followed him at once, and instantly fell all my length, so weak was I +and so giddy with that long exposure. Here, then, we lay for an hour or +two, aching from head to foot, as weak as water, and lying quite naked +to the eye of any soldier who should have strolled that way. None came, +however, all passing by on the other side; so that our rock continued to +be our shield even in this new position. + +Presently we began again to get a little strength; and as the soldiers +were now lying closer along the river-side, Alan proposed that we should +try a start. I was by this time afraid of but one thing in the world; +and that was to be set back upon the rock; anything else was welcome +to me; so we got ourselves at once in marching order, and began to slip +from rock to rock one after the other, now crawling flat on our bellies +in the shade, now making a run for it, heart in mouth. + +The soldiers, having searched this side of the valley after a fashion, +and being perhaps somewhat sleepy with the sultriness of the afternoon, +had now laid by much of their vigilance, and stood dozing at their posts +or only kept a look-out along the banks of the river; so that in this +way, keeping down the valley and at the same time towards the mountains, +we drew steadily away from their neighbourhood. But the business was the +most wearing I had ever taken part in. A man had need of a hundred +eyes in every part of him, to keep concealed in that uneven country and +within cry of so many and scattered sentries. When we must pass an open +place, quickness was not all, but a swift judgment not only of the lie +of the whole country, but of the solidity of every stone on which we +must set foot; for the afternoon was now fallen so breathless that the +rolling of a pebble sounded abroad like a pistol shot, and would start +the echo calling among the hills and cliffs. + +By sundown we had made some distance, even by our slow rate of progress, +though to be sure the sentry on the rock was still plainly in our view. +But now we came on something that put all fears out of season; and that +was a deep rushing burn, that tore down, in that part, to join the glen +river. At the sight of this we cast ourselves on the ground and plunged +head and shoulders in the water; and I cannot tell which was the more +pleasant, the great shock as the cool stream went over us, or the greed +with which we drank of it. + +We lay there (for the banks hid us), drank again and again, bathed our +chests, let our wrists trail in the running water till they ached +with the chill; and at last, being wonderfully renewed, we got out the +meal-bag and made drammach in the iron pan. This, though it is but cold +water mingled with oatmeal, yet makes a good enough dish for a hungry +man; and where there are no means of making fire, or (as in our case) +good reason for not making one, it is the chief stand-by of those who +have taken to the heather. + +As soon as the shadow of the night had fallen, we set forth again, at +first with the same caution, but presently with more boldness, standing +our full height and stepping out at a good pace of walking. The way +was very intricate, lying up the steep sides of mountains and along the +brows of cliffs; clouds had come in with the sunset, and the night was +dark and cool; so that I walked without much fatigue, but in continual +fear of falling and rolling down the mountains, and with no guess at our +direction. + +The moon rose at last and found us still on the road; it was in its last +quarter, and was long beset with clouds; but after awhile shone out and +showed me many dark heads of mountains, and was reflected far underneath +us on the narrow arm of a sea-loch. + +At this sight we both paused: I struck with wonder to find myself so +high and walking (as it seemed to me) upon clouds; Alan to make sure of +his direction. + +Seemingly he was well pleased, and he must certainly have judged us +out of ear-shot of all our enemies; for throughout the rest of our +night-march he beguiled the way with whistling of many tunes, warlike, +merry, plaintive; reel tunes that made the foot go faster; tunes of my +own south country that made me fain to be home from my adventures; and +all these, on the great, dark, desert mountains, making company upon the +way. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH + +Early as day comes in the beginning of July, it was still dark when we +reached our destination, a cleft in the head of a great mountain, with a +water running through the midst, and upon the one hand a shallow cave +in a rock. Birches grew there in a thin, pretty wood, which a little +farther on was changed into a wood of pines. The burn was full of trout; +the wood of cushat-doves; on the open side of the mountain beyond, +whaups would be always whistling, and cuckoos were plentiful. From the +mouth of the cleft we looked down upon a part of Mamore, and on the +sea-loch that divides that country from Appin; and this from so great +a height as made it my continual wonder and pleasure to sit and behold +them. + +The name of the cleft was the Heugh of Corrynakiegh; and although from +its height and being so near upon the sea, it was often beset with +clouds, yet it was on the whole a pleasant place, and the five days we +lived in it went happily. + +We slept in the cave, making our bed of heather bushes which we cut for +that purpose, and covering ourselves with Alan’s great-coat. There was a +low concealed place, in a turning of the glen, where we were so bold as +to make fire: so that we could warm ourselves when the clouds set in, +and cook hot porridge, and grill the little trouts that we caught with +our hands under the stones and overhanging banks of the burn. This was +indeed our chief pleasure and business; and not only to save our meal +against worse times, but with a rivalry that much amused us, we spent +a great part of our days at the water-side, stripped to the waist and +groping about or (as they say) guddling for these fish. The largest we +got might have been a quarter of a pound; but they were of good flesh +and flavour, and when broiled upon the coals, lacked only a little salt +to be delicious. + +In any by-time Alan must teach me to use my sword, for my ignorance +had much distressed him; and I think besides, as I had sometimes +the upper-hand of him in the fishing, he was not sorry to turn to an +exercise where he had so much the upper-hand of me. He made it somewhat +more of a pain than need have been, for he stormed at me all through the +lessons in a very violent manner of scolding, and would push me so close +that I made sure he must run me through the body. I was often tempted +to turn tail, but held my ground for all that, and got some profit of +my lessons; if it was but to stand on guard with an assured countenance, +which is often all that is required. So, though I could never in the +least please my master, I was not altogether displeased with myself. + +In the meanwhile, you are not to suppose that we neglected our chief +business, which was to get away. + +“It will be many a long day,” Alan said to me on our first morning, +“before the red-coats think upon seeking Corrynakiegh; so now we must +get word sent to James, and he must find the siller for us.” + +“And how shall we send that word?” says I. “We are here in a desert +place, which yet we dare not leave; and unless ye get the fowls of the +air to be your messengers, I see not what we shall be able to do.” + +“Ay?” said Alan. “Ye’re a man of small contrivance, David.” + +Thereupon he fell in a muse, looking in the embers of the fire; and +presently, getting a piece of wood, he fashioned it in a cross, the four +ends of which he blackened on the coals. Then he looked at me a little +shyly. + +“Could ye lend me my button?” says he. “It seems a strange thing to ask +a gift again, but I own I am laith to cut another.” + +I gave him the button; whereupon he strung it on a strip of his +great-coat which he had used to bind the cross; and tying in a little +sprig of birch and another of fir, he looked upon his work with +satisfaction. + +“Now,” said he, “there is a little clachan” (what is called a hamlet +in the English) “not very far from Corrynakiegh, and it has the name of +Koalisnacoan. There there are living many friends of mine whom I could +trust with my life, and some that I am no just so sure of. Ye see, +David, there will be money set upon our heads; James himsel’ is to set +money on them; and as for the Campbells, they would never spare siller +where there was a Stewart to be hurt. If it was otherwise, I would go +down to Koalisnacoan whatever, and trust my life into these people’s +hands as lightly as I would trust another with my glove.” + +“But being so?” said I. + +“Being so,” said he, “I would as lief they didnae see me. There’s bad +folk everywhere, and what’s far worse, weak ones. So when it comes dark +again, I will steal down into that clachan, and set this that I have +been making in the window of a good friend of mine, John Breck Maccoll, +a bouman* of Appin’s.” + + *A bouman is a tenant who takes stock from the landlord and + shares with him the increase. + +“With all my heart,” says I; “and if he finds it, what is he to think?” + +“Well,” says Alan, “I wish he was a man of more penetration, for by my +troth I am afraid he will make little enough of it! But this is what +I have in my mind. This cross is something in the nature of the +crosstarrie, or fiery cross, which is the signal of gathering in our +clans; yet he will know well enough the clan is not to rise, for there +it is standing in his window, and no word with it. So he will say to +himsel’, THE CLAN IS NOT TO RISE, BUT THERE IS SOMETHING. Then he will +see my button, and that was Duncan Stewart’s. And then he will say to +himsel’, THE SON OF DUNCAN IS IN THE HEATHER, AND HAS NEED OF ME.” + +“Well,” said I, “it may be. But even supposing so, there is a good deal +of heather between here and the Forth.” + +“And that is a very true word,” says Alan. “But then John Breck will see +the sprig of birch and the sprig of pine; and he will say to himsel’ (if +he is a man of any penetration at all, which I misdoubt), ALAN WILL BE +LYING IN A WOOD WHICH IS BOTH OF PINES AND BIRCHES. Then he will think +to himsel’, THAT IS NOT SO VERY RIFE HEREABOUT; and then he will come +and give us a look up in Corrynakiegh. And if he does not, David, the +devil may fly away with him, for what I care; for he will no be worth +the salt to his porridge.” + +“Eh, man,” said I, drolling with him a little, “you’re very ingenious! +But would it not be simpler for you to write him a few words in black +and white?” + +“And that is an excellent observe, Mr. Balfour of Shaws,” says Alan, +drolling with me; “and it would certainly be much simpler for me to +write to him, but it would be a sore job for John Breck to read it. He +would have to go to the school for two-three years; and it’s possible we +might be wearied waiting on him.” + +So that night Alan carried down his fiery cross and set it in the +bouman’s window. He was troubled when he came back; for the dogs had +barked and the folk run out from their houses; and he thought he had +heard a clatter of arms and seen a red-coat come to one of the doors. On +all accounts we lay the next day in the borders of the wood and kept a +close look-out, so that if it was John Breck that came we might be ready +to guide him, and if it was the red-coats we should have time to get +away. + +About noon a man was to be spied, straggling up the open side of the +mountain in the sun, and looking round him as he came, from under his +hand. No sooner had Alan seen him than he whistled; the man turned and +came a little towards us: then Alan would give another “peep!” and the +man would come still nearer; and so by the sound of whistling, he was +guided to the spot where we lay. + +He was a ragged, wild, bearded man, about forty, grossly disfigured with +the small pox, and looked both dull and savage. Although his English +was very bad and broken, yet Alan (according to his very handsome use, +whenever I was by) would suffer him to speak no Gaelic. Perhaps the +strange language made him appear more backward than he really was; but +I thought he had little good-will to serve us, and what he had was the +child of terror. + +Alan would have had him carry a message to James; but the bouman would +hear of no message. “She was forget it,” he said in his screaming voice; +and would either have a letter or wash his hands of us. + +I thought Alan would be gravelled at that, for we lacked the means of +writing in that desert. + +But he was a man of more resources than I knew; searched the wood until +he found the quill of a cushat-dove, which he shaped into a pen; made +himself a kind of ink with gunpowder from his horn and water from the +running stream; and tearing a corner from his French military commission +(which he carried in his pocket, like a talisman to keep him from the +gallows), he sat down and wrote as follows: + + +“DEAR KINSMAN,--Please send the money by the bearer to the place he kens +of. + +“Your affectionate cousin, + +“A. S.” + + +This he intrusted to the bouman, who promised to make what manner of +speed he best could, and carried it off with him down the hill. + +He was three full days gone, but about five in the evening of the third, +we heard a whistling in the wood, which Alan answered; and presently the +bouman came up the water-side, looking for us, right and left. He seemed +less sulky than before, and indeed he was no doubt well pleased to have +got to the end of such a dangerous commission. + +He gave us the news of the country; that it was alive with red-coats; +that arms were being found, and poor folk brought in trouble daily; and +that James and some of his servants were already clapped in prison at +Fort William, under strong suspicion of complicity. It seemed it was +noised on all sides that Alan Breck had fired the shot; and there was a +bill issued for both him and me, with one hundred pounds reward. + +This was all as bad as could be; and the little note the bouman had +carried us from Mrs. Stewart was of a miserable sadness. In it she +besought Alan not to let himself be captured, assuring him, if he fell +in the hands of the troops, both he and James were no better than dead +men. The money she had sent was all that she could beg or borrow, and +she prayed heaven we could be doing with it. Lastly, she said, she +enclosed us one of the bills in which we were described. + +This we looked upon with great curiosity and not a little fear, partly +as a man may look in a mirror, partly as he might look into the barrel +of an enemy’s gun to judge if it be truly aimed. Alan was advertised as +“a small, pock-marked, active man of thirty-five or thereby, dressed +in a feathered hat, a French side-coat of blue with silver buttons, +and lace a great deal tarnished, a red waistcoat and breeches of black, +shag;” and I as “a tall strong lad of about eighteen, wearing an +old blue coat, very ragged, an old Highland bonnet, a long homespun +waistcoat, blue breeches; his legs bare, low-country shoes, wanting the +toes; speaks like a Lowlander, and has no beard.” + +Alan was well enough pleased to see his finery so fully remembered and +set down; only when he came to the word tarnish, he looked upon his lace +like one a little mortified. As for myself, I thought I cut a miserable +figure in the bill; and yet was well enough pleased too, for since I had +changed these rags, the description had ceased to be a danger and become +a source of safety. + +“Alan,” said I, “you should change your clothes.” + +“Na, troth!” said Alan, “I have nae others. A fine sight I would be, if +I went back to France in a bonnet!” + +This put a second reflection in my mind: that if I were to separate +from Alan and his tell-tale clothes I should be safe against arrest, and +might go openly about my business. Nor was this all; for suppose I was +arrested when I was alone, there was little against me; but suppose I +was taken in company with the reputed murderer, my case would begin to +be grave. For generosity’s sake I dare not speak my mind upon this head; +but I thought of it none the less. + +I thought of it all the more, too, when the bouman brought out a green +purse with four guineas in gold, and the best part of another in small +change. True, it was more than I had. But then Alan, with less than +five guineas, had to get as far as France; I, with my less than two, not +beyond Queensferry; so that taking things in their proportion, Alan’s +society was not only a peril to my life, but a burden on my purse. + +But there was no thought of the sort in the honest head of my companion. +He believed he was serving, helping, and protecting me. And what could I +do but hold my peace, and chafe, and take my chance of it? + +“It’s little enough,” said Alan, putting the purse in his pocket, “but +it’ll do my business. And now, John Breck, if ye will hand me over my +button, this gentleman and me will be for taking the road.” + +But the bouman, after feeling about in a hairy purse that hung in front +of him in the Highland manner (though he wore otherwise the Lowland +habit, with sea-trousers), began to roll his eyes strangely, and at last +said, “Her nainsel will loss it,” meaning he thought he had lost it. + +“What!” cried Alan, “you will lose my button, that was my father’s +before me? Now I will tell you what is in my mind, John Breck: it is +in my mind this is the worst day’s work that ever ye did since ye was +born.” + +And as Alan spoke, he set his hands on his knees and looked at the +bouman with a smiling mouth, and that dancing light in his eyes that +meant mischief to his enemies. + +Perhaps the bouman was honest enough; perhaps he had meant to cheat and +then, finding himself alone with two of us in a desert place, cast back +to honesty as being safer; at least, and all at once, he seemed to find +that button and handed it to Alan. + +“Well, and it is a good thing for the honour of the Maccolls,” said +Alan, and then to me, “Here is my button back again, and I thank you for +parting with it, which is of a piece with all your friendships to me.” + Then he took the warmest parting of the bouman. “For,” says he, “ye have +done very well by me, and set your neck at a venture, and I will always +give you the name of a good man.” + +Lastly, the bouman took himself off by one way; and Alan and I (getting our +chattels together) struck into another to resume our flight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR + +Some seven hours’ incessant, hard travelling brought us early in the +morning to the end of a range of mountains. In front of us there lay a +piece of low, broken, desert land, which we must now cross. The sun was +not long up, and shone straight in our eyes; a little, thin mist went up +from the face of the moorland like a smoke; so that (as Alan said) there +might have been twenty squadron of dragoons there and we none the wiser. + +We sat down, therefore, in a howe of the hill-side till the mist should +have risen, and made ourselves a dish of drammach, and held a council of +war. + +“David,” said Alan, “this is the kittle bit. Shall we lie here till it +comes night, or shall we risk it, and stave on ahead?” + +“Well,” said I, “I am tired indeed, but I could walk as far again, if +that was all.” + +“Ay, but it isnae,” said Alan, “nor yet the half. This is how we stand: +Appin’s fair death to us. To the south it’s all Campbells, and no to be +thought of. To the north; well, there’s no muckle to be gained by going +north; neither for you, that wants to get to Queensferry, nor yet for +me, that wants to get to France. Well, then, we’ll can strike east.” + +“East be it!” says I, quite cheerily; but I was thinking in to myself: +“O, man, if you would only take one point of the compass and let me take +any other, it would be the best for both of us.” + +“Well, then, east, ye see, we have the muirs,” said Alan. “Once there, +David, it’s mere pitch-and-toss. Out on yon bald, naked, flat place, +where can a body turn to? Let the red-coats come over a hill, they can +spy you miles away; and the sorrow’s in their horses’ heels, they would +soon ride you down. It’s no good place, David; and I’m free to say, it’s +worse by daylight than by dark.” + +“Alan,” said I, “hear my way of it. Appin’s death for us; we have none +too much money, nor yet meal; the longer they seek, the nearer they +may guess where we are; it’s all a risk; and I give my word to go ahead +until we drop.” + +Alan was delighted. “There are whiles,” said he, “when ye are altogether +too canny and Whiggish to be company for a gentleman like me; but there +come other whiles when ye show yoursel’ a mettle spark; and it’s then, +David, that I love ye like a brother.” + +The mist rose and died away, and showed us that country lying as waste +as the sea; only the moorfowl and the pewees crying upon it, and far +over to the east, a herd of deer, moving like dots. Much of it was red +with heather; much of the rest broken up with bogs and hags and peaty +pools; some had been burnt black in a heath fire; and in another place +there was quite a forest of dead firs, standing like skeletons. A +wearier-looking desert man never saw; but at least it was clear of +troops, which was our point. + +We went down accordingly into the waste, and began to make our toilsome +and devious travel towards the eastern verge. There were the tops of +mountains all round (you are to remember) from whence we might be spied +at any moment; so it behoved us to keep in the hollow parts of the moor, +and when these turned aside from our direction to move upon its naked +face with infinite care. Sometimes, for half an hour together, we must +crawl from one heather bush to another, as hunters do when they are hard +upon the deer. It was a clear day again, with a blazing sun; the water +in the brandy bottle was soon gone; and altogether, if I had guessed +what it would be to crawl half the time upon my belly and to walk much +of the rest stooping nearly to the knees, I should certainly have held +back from such a killing enterprise. + +Toiling and resting and toiling again, we wore away the morning; and +about noon lay down in a thick bush of heather to sleep. Alan took the +first watch; and it seemed to me I had scarce closed my eyes before I +was shaken up to take the second. We had no clock to go by; and Alan +stuck a sprig of heath in the ground to serve instead; so that as soon +as the shadow of the bush should fall so far to the east, I might know +to rouse him. But I was by this time so weary that I could have slept +twelve hours at a stretch; I had the taste of sleep in my throat; my +joints slept even when my mind was waking; the hot smell of the heather, +and the drone of the wild bees, were like possets to me; and every now +and again I would give a jump and find I had been dozing. + +The last time I woke I seemed to come back from farther away, and +thought the sun had taken a great start in the heavens. I looked at the +sprig of heath, and at that I could have cried aloud: for I saw I had +betrayed my trust. My head was nearly turned with fear and shame; and at +what I saw, when I looked out around me on the moor, my heart was like +dying in my body. For sure enough, a body of horse-soldiers had come +down during my sleep, and were drawing near to us from the south-east, +spread out in the shape of a fan and riding their horses to and fro in +the deep parts of the heather. + +When I waked Alan, he glanced first at the soldiers, then at the mark +and the position of the sun, and knitted his brows with a sudden, quick +look, both ugly and anxious, which was all the reproach I had of him. + +“What are we to do now?” I asked. + +“We’ll have to play at being hares,” said he. “Do ye see yon mountain?” + pointing to one on the north-eastern sky. + +“Ay,” said I. + +“Well, then,” says he, “let us strike for that. Its name is Ben Alder. +it is a wild, desert mountain full of hills and hollows, and if we can +win to it before the morn, we may do yet.” + +“But, Alan,” cried I, “that will take us across the very coming of the +soldiers!” + +“I ken that fine,” said he; “but if we are driven back on Appin, we are +two dead men. So now, David man, be brisk!” + +With that he began to run forward on his hands and knees with an +incredible quickness, as though it were his natural way of going. All +the time, too, he kept winding in and out in the lower parts of the +moorland where we were the best concealed. Some of these had been burned +or at least scathed with fire; and there rose in our faces (which were +close to the ground) a blinding, choking dust as fine as smoke. The +water was long out; and this posture of running on the hands and knees +brings an overmastering weakness and weariness, so that the joints ache +and the wrists faint under your weight. + +Now and then, indeed, where was a big bush of heather, we lay awhile, +and panted, and putting aside the leaves, looked back at the dragoons. +They had not spied us, for they held straight on; a half-troop, I think, +covering about two miles of ground, and beating it mighty thoroughly as +they went. I had awakened just in time; a little later, and we must have +fled in front of them, instead of escaping on one side. Even as it was, +the least misfortune might betray us; and now and again, when a grouse +rose out of the heather with a clap of wings, we lay as still as the +dead and were afraid to breathe. + +The aching and faintness of my body, the labouring of my heart, the +soreness of my hands, and the smarting of my throat and eyes in the +continual smoke of dust and ashes, had soon grown to be so unbearable +that I would gladly have given up. Nothing but the fear of Alan lent me +enough of a false kind of courage to continue. As for himself (and you +are to bear in mind that he was cumbered with a great-coat) he had first +turned crimson, but as time went on the redness began to be mingled +with patches of white; his breath cried and whistled as it came; and his +voice, when he whispered his observations in my ear during our halts, +sounded like nothing human. Yet he seemed in no way dashed in spirits, +nor did he at all abate in his activity, so that I was driven to marvel +at the man’s endurance. + +At length, in the first gloaming of the night, we heard a trumpet sound, +and looking back from among the heather, saw the troop beginning to +collect. A little after, they had built a fire and camped for the night, +about the middle of the waste. + +At this I begged and besought that we might lie down and sleep. + +“There shall be no sleep the night!” said Alan. “From now on, these +weary dragoons of yours will keep the crown of the muirland, and none +will get out of Appin but winged fowls. We got through in the nick +of time, and shall we jeopard what we’ve gained? Na, na, when the day +comes, it shall find you and me in a fast place on Ben Alder.” + +“Alan,” I said, “it’s not the want of will: it’s the strength that I +want. If I could, I would; but as sure as I’m alive I cannot.” + +“Very well, then,” said Alan. “I’ll carry ye.” + +I looked to see if he were jesting; but no, the little man was in dead +earnest; and the sight of so much resolution shamed me. + +“Lead away!” said I. “I’ll follow.” + +He gave me one look as much as to say, “Well done, David!” and off he +set again at his top speed. + +It grew cooler and even a little darker (but not much) with the coming +of the night. The sky was cloudless; it was still early in July, and +pretty far north; in the darkest part of that night, you would have +needed pretty good eyes to read, but for all that, I have often seen it +darker in a winter mid-day. Heavy dew fell and drenched the moor like +rain; and this refreshed me for a while. When we stopped to breathe, +and I had time to see all about me, the clearness and sweetness of +the night, the shapes of the hills like things asleep, and the fire +dwindling away behind us, like a bright spot in the midst of the moor, +anger would come upon me in a clap that I must still drag myself in +agony and eat the dust like a worm. + +By what I have read in books, I think few that have held a pen were ever +really wearied, or they would write of it more strongly. I had no care +of my life, neither past nor future, and I scarce remembered there was +such a lad as David Balfour. I did not think of myself, but just of each +fresh step which I was sure would be my last, with despair--and of Alan, +who was the cause of it, with hatred. Alan was in the right trade as a +soldier; this is the officer’s part to make men continue to do things, +they know not wherefore, and when, if the choice was offered, they would +lie down where they were and be killed. And I dare say I would have made +a good enough private; for in these last hours it never occurred to me +that I had any choice but just to obey as long as I was able, and die +obeying. + +Day began to come in, after years, I thought; and by that time we were +past the greatest danger, and could walk upon our feet like men, instead +of crawling like brutes. But, dear heart have mercy! what a pair we must +have made, going double like old grandfathers, stumbling like babes, +and as white as dead folk. Never a word passed between us; each set his +mouth and kept his eyes in front of him, and lifted up his foot and set +it down again, like people lifting weights at a country play;* all the +while, with the moorfowl crying “peep!” in the heather, and the light +coming slowly clearer in the east. + + * Village fair. + +I say Alan did as I did. Not that ever I looked at him, for I had enough +ado to keep my feet; but because it is plain he must have been as stupid +with weariness as myself, and looked as little where we were going, or +we should not have walked into an ambush like blind men. + +It fell in this way. We were going down a heathery brae, Alan leading +and I following a pace or two behind, like a fiddler and his wife; when +upon a sudden the heather gave a rustle, three or four ragged men leaped +out, and the next moment we were lying on our backs, each with a dirk at +his throat. + +I don’t think I cared; the pain of this rough handling was quite +swallowed up by the pains of which I was already full; and I was too +glad to have stopped walking to mind about a dirk. I lay looking up in +the face of the man that held me; and I mind his face was black with the +sun, and his eyes very light, but I was not afraid of him. I heard Alan +and another whispering in the Gaelic; and what they said was all one to +me. + +Then the dirks were put up, our weapons were taken away, and we were set +face to face, sitting in the heather. + +“They are Cluny’s men,” said Alan. “We couldnae have fallen better. +We’re just to bide here with these, which are his out-sentries, till +they can get word to the chief of my arrival.” + +Now Cluny Macpherson, the chief of the clan Vourich, had been one of the +leaders of the great rebellion six years before; there was a price on +his life; and I had supposed him long ago in France, with the rest of +the heads of that desperate party. Even tired as I was, the surprise of +what I heard half wakened me. + +“What,” I cried, “is Cluny still here?” + +“Ay, is he so!” said Alan. “Still in his own country and kept by his own +clan. King George can do no more.” + +I think I would have asked farther, but Alan gave me the put-off. “I am +rather wearied,” he said, “and I would like fine to get a sleep.” And +without more words, he rolled on his face in a deep heather bush, and +seemed to sleep at once. + +There was no such thing possible for me. You have heard grasshoppers +whirring in the grass in the summer time? Well, I had no sooner closed +my eyes, than my body, and above all my head, belly, and wrists, seemed +to be filled with whirring grasshoppers; and I must open my eyes again +at once, and tumble and toss, and sit up and lie down; and look at the +sky which dazzled me, or at Cluny’s wild and dirty sentries, peering out +over the top of the brae and chattering to each other in the Gaelic. + +That was all the rest I had, until the messenger returned; when, as it +appeared that Cluny would be glad to receive us, we must get once more +upon our feet and set forward. Alan was in excellent good spirits, much +refreshed by his sleep, very hungry, and looking pleasantly forward to +a dram and a dish of hot collops, of which, it seems, the messenger had +brought him word. For my part, it made me sick to hear of eating. I had +been dead-heavy before, and now I felt a kind of dreadful lightness, +which would not suffer me to walk. I drifted like a gossamer; the ground +seemed to me a cloud, the hills a feather-weight, the air to have a +current, like a running burn, which carried me to and fro. With all +that, a sort of horror of despair sat on my mind, so that I could have +wept at my own helplessness. + +I saw Alan knitting his brows at me, and supposed it was in anger; and +that gave me a pang of light-headed fear, like what a child may have. I +remember, too, that I was smiling, and could not stop smiling, hard as +I tried; for I thought it was out of place at such a time. But my good +companion had nothing in his mind but kindness; and the next moment, +two of the gillies had me by the arms, and I began to be carried forward +with great swiftness (or so it appeared to me, although I dare say it +was slowly enough in truth), through a labyrinth of dreary glens and +hollows and into the heart of that dismal mountain of Ben Alder. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +CLUNY’S CAGE + +We came at last to the foot of an exceeding steep wood, which scrambled +up a craggy hillside, and was crowned by a naked precipice. + +“It’s here,” said one of the guides, and we struck up hill. + +The trees clung upon the slope, like sailors on the shrouds of a ship, +and their trunks were like the rounds of a ladder, by which we mounted. + +Quite at the top, and just before the rocky face of the cliff sprang +above the foliage, we found that strange house which was known in the +country as “Cluny’s Cage.” The trunks of several trees had been wattled +across, the intervals strengthened with stakes, and the ground behind +this barricade levelled up with earth to make the floor. A tree, which +grew out from the hillside, was the living centre-beam of the roof. +The walls were of wattle and covered with moss. The whole house had +something of an egg shape; and it half hung, half stood in that steep, +hillside thicket, like a wasp’s nest in a green hawthorn. + +Within, it was large enough to shelter five or six persons with some +comfort. A projection of the cliff had been cunningly employed to be the +fireplace; and the smoke rising against the face of the rock, and being +not dissimilar in colour, readily escaped notice from below. + +This was but one of Cluny’s hiding-places; he had caves, besides, and +underground chambers in several parts of his country; and following the +reports of his scouts, he moved from one to another as the soldiers +drew near or moved away. By this manner of living, and thanks to the +affection of his clan, he had not only stayed all this time in safety, +while so many others had fled or been taken and slain: but stayed four +or five years longer, and only went to France at last by the express +command of his master. There he soon died; and it is strange to reflect +that he may have regretted his Cage upon Ben Alder. + +When we came to the door he was seated by his rock chimney, watching a +gillie about some cookery. He was mighty plainly habited, with a knitted +nightcap drawn over his ears, and smoked a foul cutty pipe. For all that +he had the manners of a king, and it was quite a sight to see him rise +out of his place to welcome us. + +“Well, Mr. Stewart, come awa’, sir!” said he, “and bring in your friend +that as yet I dinna ken the name of.” + +“And how is yourself, Cluny?” said Alan. “I hope ye do brawly, sir. And +I am proud to see ye, and to present to ye my friend the Laird of Shaws, +Mr. David Balfour.” + +Alan never referred to my estate without a touch of a sneer, when we +were alone; but with strangers, he rang the words out like a herald. + +“Step in by, the both of ye, gentlemen,” says Cluny. “I make ye welcome +to my house, which is a queer, rude place for certain, but one where I +have entertained a royal personage, Mr. Stewart--ye doubtless ken the +personage I have in my eye. We’ll take a dram for luck, and as soon as +this handless man of mine has the collops ready, we’ll dine and take a +hand at the cartes as gentlemen should. My life is a bit driegh,” says +he, pouring out the brandy; “I see little company, and sit and twirl my +thumbs, and mind upon a great day that is gone by, and weary for another +great day that we all hope will be upon the road. And so here’s a toast +to ye: The Restoration!” + +Thereupon we all touched glasses and drank. I am sure I wished no ill +to King George; and if he had been there himself in proper person, it’s +like he would have done as I did. No sooner had I taken out the drain +than I felt hugely better, and could look on and listen, still a little +mistily perhaps, but no longer with the same groundless horror and +distress of mind. + +It was certainly a strange place, and we had a strange host. In his long +hiding, Cluny had grown to have all manner of precise habits, like those +of an old maid. He had a particular place, where no one else must sit; +the Cage was arranged in a particular way, which none must disturb; +cookery was one of his chief fancies, and even while he was greeting us +in, he kept an eye to the collops. + +It appears, he sometimes visited or received visits from his wife and +one or two of his nearest friends, under the cover of night; but for the +more part lived quite alone, and communicated only with his sentinels +and the gillies that waited on him in the Cage. The first thing in the +morning, one of them, who was a barber, came and shaved him, and gave +him the news of the country, of which he was immoderately greedy. There +was no end to his questions; he put them as earnestly as a child; and +at some of the answers, laughed out of all bounds of reason, and would +break out again laughing at the mere memory, hours after the barber was +gone. + +To be sure, there might have been a purpose in his questions; for +though he was thus sequestered, and like the other landed gentlemen of +Scotland, stripped by the late Act of Parliament of legal powers, he +still exercised a patriarchal justice in his clan. Disputes were brought +to him in his hiding-hole to be decided; and the men of his country, +who would have snapped their fingers at the Court of Session, laid +aside revenge and paid down money at the bare word of this forfeited and +hunted outlaw. When he was angered, which was often enough, he gave +his commands and breathed threats of punishment like any king; and his +gillies trembled and crouched away from him like children before a hasty +father. With each of them, as he entered, he ceremoniously shook hands, +both parties touching their bonnets at the same time in a military +manner. Altogether, I had a fair chance to see some of the inner +workings of a Highland clan; and this with a proscribed, fugitive chief; +his country conquered; the troops riding upon all sides in quest of +him, sometimes within a mile of where he lay; and when the least of the +ragged fellows whom he rated and threatened, could have made a fortune +by betraying him. + +On that first day, as soon as the collops were ready, Cluny gave them +with his own hand a squeeze of a lemon (for he was well supplied with +luxuries) and bade us draw in to our meal. + +“They,” said he, meaning the collops, “are such as I gave his Royal +Highness in this very house; bating the lemon juice, for at that time we +were glad to get the meat and never fashed for kitchen.* Indeed, there +were mair dragoons than lemons in my country in the year forty-six.” + + * Condiment. + +I do not know if the collops were truly very good, but my heart rose +against the sight of them, and I could eat but little. All the while +Cluny entertained us with stories of Prince Charlie’s stay in the Cage, +giving us the very words of the speakers, and rising from his place +to show us where they stood. By these, I gathered the Prince was a +gracious, spirited boy, like the son of a race of polite kings, but not +so wise as Solomon. I gathered, too, that while he was in the Cage, he +was often drunk; so the fault that has since, by all accounts, made such +a wreck of him, had even then begun to show itself. + +We were no sooner done eating than Cluny brought out an old, thumbed, +greasy pack of cards, such as you may find in a mean inn; and his eyes +brightened in his face as he proposed that we should fall to playing. + +Now this was one of the things I had been brought up to eschew like +disgrace; it being held by my father neither the part of a Christian +nor yet of a gentleman to set his own livelihood and fish for that of +others, on the cast of painted pasteboard. To be sure, I might have +pleaded my fatigue, which was excuse enough; but I thought it behoved +that I should bear a testimony. I must have got very red in the face, +but I spoke steadily, and told them I had no call to be a judge +of others, but for my own part, it was a matter in which I had no +clearness. + +Cluny stopped mingling the cards. “What in deil’s name is this?” says +he. “What kind of Whiggish, canting talk is this, for the house of Cluny +Macpherson?” + +“I will put my hand in the fire for Mr. Balfour,” says Alan. “He is an +honest and a mettle gentleman, and I would have ye bear in mind who says +it. I bear a king’s name,” says he, cocking his hat; “and I and any that +I call friend are company for the best. But the gentleman is tired, and +should sleep; if he has no mind to the cartes, it will never hinder you +and me. And I’m fit and willing, sir, to play ye any game that ye can +name.” + +“Sir,” says Cluny, “in this poor house of mine I would have you to ken +that any gentleman may follow his pleasure. If your friend would like to +stand on his head, he is welcome. And if either he, or you, or any other +man, is not preceesely satisfied, I will be proud to step outside with +him.” + +I had no will that these two friends should cut their throats for my +sake. + +“Sir,” said I, “I am very wearied, as Alan says; and what’s more, as +you are a man that likely has sons of your own, I may tell you it was a +promise to my father.” + +“Say nae mair, say nae mair,” said Cluny, and pointed me to a bed of +heather in a corner of the Cage. For all that he was displeased enough, +looked at me askance, and grumbled when he looked. And indeed it must +be owned that both my scruples and the words in which I declared them, +smacked somewhat of the Covenanter, and were little in their place among +wild Highland Jacobites. + +What with the brandy and the venison, a strange heaviness had come over +me; and I had scarce lain down upon the bed before I fell into a kind +of trance, in which I continued almost the whole time of our stay in the +Cage. Sometimes I was broad awake and understood what passed; sometimes +I only heard voices, or men snoring, like the voice of a silly river; +and the plaids upon the wall dwindled down and swelled out again, like +firelight shadows on the roof. I must sometimes have spoken or cried +out, for I remember I was now and then amazed at being answered; yet +I was conscious of no particular nightmare, only of a general, black, +abiding horror--a horror of the place I was in, and the bed I lay in, +and the plaids on the wall, and the voices, and the fire, and myself. + +The barber-gillie, who was a doctor too, was called in to prescribe +for me; but as he spoke in the Gaelic, I understood not a word of his +opinion, and was too sick even to ask for a translation. I knew well +enough I was ill, and that was all I cared about. + +I paid little heed while I lay in this poor pass. But Alan and Cluny +were most of the time at the cards, and I am clear that Alan must have +begun by winning; for I remember sitting up, and seeing them hard at it, +and a great glittering pile of as much as sixty or a hundred guineas on +the table. It looked strange enough, to see all this wealth in a nest +upon a cliff-side, wattled about growing trees. And even then, I +thought it seemed deep water for Alan to be riding, who had no better +battle-horse than a green purse and a matter of five pounds. + +The luck, it seems, changed on the second day. About noon I was wakened +as usual for dinner, and as usual refused to eat, and was given a dram +with some bitter infusion which the barber had prescribed. The sun was +shining in at the open door of the Cage, and this dazzled and offended +me. Cluny sat at the table, biting the pack of cards. Alan had stooped +over the bed, and had his face close to my eyes; to which, troubled as +they were with the fever, it seemed of the most shocking bigness. + +He asked me for a loan of my money. + +“What for?” said I. + +“O, just for a loan,” said he. + +“But why?” I repeated. “I don’t see.” + +“Hut, David!” said Alan, “ye wouldnae grudge me a loan?” + +I would, though, if I had had my senses! But all I thought of then was +to get his face away, and I handed him my money. + +On the morning of the third day, when we had been forty-eight hours in +the Cage, I awoke with a great relief of spirits, very weak and weary +indeed, but seeing things of the right size and with their honest, +everyday appearance. I had a mind to eat, moreover, rose from bed of my +own movement, and as soon as we had breakfasted, stepped to the entry of +the Cage and sat down outside in the top of the wood. It was a grey day +with a cool, mild air: and I sat in a dream all morning, only disturbed +by the passing by of Cluny’s scouts and servants coming with provisions +and reports; for as the coast was at that time clear, you might almost +say he held court openly. + +When I returned, he and Alan had laid the cards aside, and were +questioning a gillie; and the chief turned about and spoke to me in the +Gaelic. + +“I have no Gaelic, sir,” said I. + +Now since the card question, everything I said or did had the power of +annoying Cluny. “Your name has more sense than yourself, then,” said he +angrily, “for it’s good Gaelic. But the point is this. My scout reports +all clear in the south, and the question is, have ye the strength to +go?” + +I saw cards on the table, but no gold; only a heap of little written +papers, and these all on Cluny’s side. Alan, besides, had an odd +look, like a man not very well content; and I began to have a strong +misgiving. + +“I do not know if I am as well as I should be,” said I, looking at Alan; +“but the little money we have has a long way to carry us.” + +Alan took his under-lip into his mouth, and looked upon the ground. + +“David,” says he at last, “I’ve lost it; there’s the naked truth.” + +“My money too?” said I. + +“Your money too,” says Alan, with a groan. “Ye shouldnae have given it +me. I’m daft when I get to the cartes.” + +“Hoot-toot! hoot-toot!” said Cluny. “It was all daffing; it’s all +nonsense. Of course you’ll have your money back again, and the double of +it, if ye’ll make so free with me. It would be a singular thing for me +to keep it. It’s not to be supposed that I would be any hindrance to +gentlemen in your situation; that would be a singular thing!” cries he, +and began to pull gold out of his pocket with a mighty red face. + +Alan said nothing, only looked on the ground. + +“Will you step to the door with me, sir?” said I. + +Cluny said he would be very glad, and followed me readily enough, but he +looked flustered and put out. + +“And now, sir,” says I, “I must first acknowledge your generosity.” + +“Nonsensical nonsense!” cries Cluny. “Where’s the generosity? This is +just a most unfortunate affair; but what would ye have me do--boxed +up in this bee-skep of a cage of mine--but just set my friends to the +cartes, when I can get them? And if they lose, of course, it’s not to be +supposed----” And here he came to a pause. + +“Yes,” said I, “if they lose, you give them back their money; and if +they win, they carry away yours in their pouches! I have said before +that I grant your generosity; but to me, sir, it’s a very painful thing +to be placed in this position.” + +There was a little silence, in which Cluny seemed always as if he was +about to speak, but said nothing. All the time he grew redder and redder +in the face. + +“I am a young man,” said I, “and I ask your advice. Advise me as you +would your son. My friend fairly lost his money, after having fairly +gained a far greater sum of yours; can I accept it back again? Would +that be the right part for me to play? Whatever I do, you can see for +yourself it must be hard upon a man of any pride.” + +“It’s rather hard on me, too, Mr. Balfour,” said Cluny, “and ye give +me very much the look of a man that has entrapped poor people to their +hurt. I wouldnae have my friends come to any house of mine to accept +affronts; no,” he cried, with a sudden heat of anger, “nor yet to give +them!” + +“And so you see, sir,” said I, “there is something to be said upon my +side; and this gambling is a very poor employ for gentlefolks. But I am +still waiting your opinion.” + +I am sure if ever Cluny hated any man it was David Balfour. He looked +me all over with a warlike eye, and I saw the challenge at his lips. +But either my youth disarmed him, or perhaps his own sense of justice. +Certainly it was a mortifying matter for all concerned, and not least +Cluny; the more credit that he took it as he did. + +“Mr. Balfour,” said he, “I think you are too nice and covenanting, but +for all that you have the spirit of a very pretty gentleman. Upon my +honest word, ye may take this money--it’s what I would tell my son--and +here’s my hand along with it!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE QUARREL + +Alan and I were put across Loch Errocht under cloud of night, and went +down its eastern shore to another hiding-place near the head of Loch +Rannoch, whither we were led by one of the gillies from the Cage. This +fellow carried all our luggage and Alan’s great-coat in the bargain, +trotting along under the burthen, far less than the half of which used +to weigh me to the ground, like a stout hill pony with a feather; yet he +was a man that, in plain contest, I could have broken on my knee. + +Doubtless it was a great relief to walk disencumbered; and perhaps +without that relief, and the consequent sense of liberty and lightness, +I could not have walked at all. I was but new risen from a bed of +sickness; and there was nothing in the state of our affairs to hearten +me for much exertion; travelling, as we did, over the most dismal +deserts in Scotland, under a cloudy heaven, and with divided hearts +among the travellers. + +For long, we said nothing; marching alongside or one behind the other, +each with a set countenance: I, angry and proud, and drawing what +strength I had from these two violent and sinful feelings; Alan angry +and ashamed, ashamed that he had lost my money, angry that I should take +it so ill. + +The thought of a separation ran always the stronger in my mind; and the +more I approved of it, the more ashamed I grew of my approval. It would +be a fine, handsome, generous thing, indeed, for Alan to turn round and +say to me: “Go, I am in the most danger, and my company only increases +yours.” But for me to turn to the friend who certainly loved me, and say +to him: “You are in great danger, I am in but little; your friendship +is a burden; go, take your risks and bear your hardships alone----” no, +that was impossible; and even to think of it privily to myself, made my +cheeks to burn. + +And yet Alan had behaved like a child, and (what is worse) a treacherous +child. Wheedling my money from me while I lay half-conscious was scarce +better than theft; and yet here he was trudging by my side, without a +penny to his name, and by what I could see, quite blithe to sponge upon +the money he had driven me to beg. True, I was ready to share it with +him; but it made me rage to see him count upon my readiness. + +These were the two things uppermost in my mind; and I could open my +mouth upon neither without black ungenerosity. So I did the next worst, +and said nothing, nor so much as looked once at my companion, save with +the tail of my eye. + +At last, upon the other side of Loch Errocht, going over a smooth, rushy +place, where the walking was easy, he could bear it no longer, and came +close to me. + +“David,” says he, “this is no way for two friends to take a small +accident. I have to say that I’m sorry; and so that’s said. And now if +you have anything, ye’d better say it.” + +“O,” says I, “I have nothing.” + +He seemed disconcerted; at which I was meanly pleased. + +“No,” said he, with rather a trembling voice, “but when I say I was to +blame?” + +“Why, of course, ye were to blame,” said I, coolly; “and you will bear +me out that I have never reproached you.” + +“Never,” says he; “but ye ken very well that ye’ve done worse. Are we to +part? Ye said so once before. Are ye to say it again? There’s hills and +heather enough between here and the two seas, David; and I will own I’m +no very keen to stay where I’m no wanted.” + +This pierced me like a sword, and seemed to lay bare my private +disloyalty. + +“Alan Breck!” I cried; and then: “Do you think I am one to turn my +back on you in your chief need? You dursn’t say it to my face. My whole +conduct’s there to give the lie to it. It’s true, I fell asleep upon +the muir; but that was from weariness, and you do wrong to cast it up to +me----” + +“Which is what I never did,” said Alan. + +“But aside from that,” I continued, “what have I done that you should +even me to dogs by such a supposition? I never yet failed a friend, and +it’s not likely I’ll begin with you. There are things between us that I +can never forget, even if you can.” + +“I will only say this to ye, David,” said Alan, very quietly, “that I +have long been owing ye my life, and now I owe ye money. Ye should try +to make that burden light for me.” + +This ought to have touched me, and in a manner it did, but the wrong +manner. I felt I was behaving badly; and was now not only angry with +Alan, but angry with myself in the bargain; and it made me the more +cruel. + +“You asked me to speak,” said I. “Well, then, I will. You own yourself +that you have done me a disservice; I have had to swallow an affront: I +have never reproached you, I never named the thing till you did. And +now you blame me,” cried I, “because I cannae laugh and sing as if I was +glad to be affronted. The next thing will be that I’m to go down upon my +knees and thank you for it! Ye should think more of others, Alan +Breck. If ye thought more of others, ye would perhaps speak less about +yourself; and when a friend that likes you very well has passed over an +offence without a word, you would be blithe to let it lie, instead of +making it a stick to break his back with. By your own way of it, it was +you that was to blame; then it shouldnae be you to seek the quarrel.” + +“Aweel,” said Alan, “say nae mair.” + +And we fell back into our former silence; and came to our journey’s end, +and supped, and lay down to sleep, without another word. + +The gillie put us across Loch Rannoch in the dusk of the next day, and +gave us his opinion as to our best route. This was to get us up at once +into the tops of the mountains: to go round by a circuit, turning the +heads of Glen Lyon, Glen Lochay, and Glen Dochart, and come down upon +the lowlands by Kippen and the upper waters of the Forth. Alan was +little pleased with a route which led us through the country of his +blood-foes, the Glenorchy Campbells. He objected that by turning to the +east, we should come almost at once among the Athole Stewarts, a race of +his own name and lineage, although following a different chief, and come +besides by a far easier and swifter way to the place whither we were +bound. But the gillie, who was indeed the chief man of Cluny’s scouts, +had good reasons to give him on all hands, naming the force of troops +in every district, and alleging finally (as well as I could understand) +that we should nowhere be so little troubled as in a country of the +Campbells. + +Alan gave way at last, but with only half a heart. “It’s one of the +dowiest countries in Scotland,” said he. “There’s naething there that I +ken, but heath, and crows, and Campbells. But I see that ye’re a man of +some penetration; and be it as ye please!” + +We set forth accordingly by this itinerary; and for the best part of +three nights travelled on eerie mountains and among the well-heads of +wild rivers; often buried in mist, almost continually blown and rained +upon, and not once cheered by any glimpse of sunshine. By day, we lay +and slept in the drenching heather; by night, incessantly clambered upon +break-neck hills and among rude crags. We often wandered; we were often +so involved in fog, that we must lie quiet till it lightened. A fire was +never to be thought of. Our only food was drammach and a portion of cold +meat that we had carried from the Cage; and as for drink, Heaven knows +we had no want of water. + +This was a dreadful time, rendered the more dreadful by the gloom of +the weather and the country. I was never warm; my teeth chattered in my +head; I was troubled with a very sore throat, such as I had on the isle; +I had a painful stitch in my side, which never left me; and when I slept +in my wet bed, with the rain beating above and the mud oozing below me, +it was to live over again in fancy the worst part of my adventures--to +see the tower of Shaws lit by lightning, Ransome carried below on the +men’s backs, Shuan dying on the round-house floor, or Colin Campbell +grasping at the bosom of his coat. From such broken slumbers, I would be +aroused in the gloaming, to sit up in the same puddle where I had slept, +and sup cold drammach; the rain driving sharp in my face or running +down my back in icy trickles; the mist enfolding us like as in a gloomy +chamber--or, perhaps, if the wind blew, falling suddenly apart and +showing us the gulf of some dark valley where the streams were crying +aloud. + +The sound of an infinite number of rivers came up from all round. In +this steady rain the springs of the mountain were broken up; every glen +gushed water like a cistern; every stream was in high spate, and had +filled and overflowed its channel. During our night tramps, it was +solemn to hear the voice of them below in the valleys, now booming like +thunder, now with an angry cry. I could well understand the story of the +Water Kelpie, that demon of the streams, who is fabled to keep wailing +and roaring at the ford until the coming of the doomed traveller. Alan I +saw believed it, or half believed it; and when the cry of the river rose +more than usually sharp, I was little surprised (though, of course, I +would still be shocked) to see him cross himself in the manner of the +Catholics. + +During all these horrid wanderings we had no familiarity, scarcely even +that of speech. The truth is that I was sickening for my grave, which +is my best excuse. But besides that I was of an unforgiving disposition +from my birth, slow to take offence, slower to forget it, and now +incensed both against my companion and myself. For the best part of two +days he was unweariedly kind; silent, indeed, but always ready to help, +and always hoping (as I could very well see) that my displeasure would +blow by. For the same length of time I stayed in myself, nursing my +anger, roughly refusing his services, and passing him over with my eyes +as if he had been a bush or a stone. + +The second night, or rather the peep of the third day, found us upon a +very open hill, so that we could not follow our usual plan and lie down +immediately to eat and sleep. Before we had reached a place of shelter, +the grey had come pretty clear, for though it still rained, the clouds +ran higher; and Alan, looking in my face, showed some marks of concern. + +“Ye had better let me take your pack,” said he, for perhaps the ninth +time since we had parted from the scout beside Loch Rannoch. + +“I do very well, I thank you,” said I, as cold as ice. + +Alan flushed darkly. “I’ll not offer it again,” he said. “I’m not a +patient man, David.” + +“I never said you were,” said I, which was exactly the rude, silly +speech of a boy of ten. + +Alan made no answer at the time, but his conduct answered for him. +Henceforth, it is to be thought, he quite forgave himself for the affair +at Cluny’s; cocked his hat again, walked jauntily, whistled airs, and +looked at me upon one side with a provoking smile. + +The third night we were to pass through the western end of the country +of Balquhidder. It came clear and cold, with a touch in the air like +frost, and a northerly wind that blew the clouds away and made the stars +bright. The streams were full, of course, and still made a great noise +among the hills; but I observed that Alan thought no more upon the +Kelpie, and was in high good spirits. As for me, the change of weather +came too late; I had lain in the mire so long that (as the Bible has it) +my very clothes “abhorred me.” I was dead weary, deadly sick and full +of pains and shiverings; the chill of the wind went through me, and the +sound of it confused my ears. In this poor state I had to bear from +my companion something in the nature of a persecution. He spoke a good +deal, and never without a taunt. “Whig” was the best name he had to give +me. “Here,” he would say, “here’s a dub for ye to jump, my Whiggie! I +ken you’re a fine jumper!” And so on; all the time with a gibing voice +and face. + +I knew it was my own doing, and no one else’s; but I was too miserable +to repent. I felt I could drag myself but little farther; pretty soon, I +must lie down and die on these wet mountains like a sheep or a fox, and +my bones must whiten there like the bones of a beast. My head was light +perhaps; but I began to love the prospect, I began to glory in the +thought of such a death, alone in the desert, with the wild eagles +besieging my last moments. Alan would repent then, I thought; he would +remember, when I was dead, how much he owed me, and the remembrance +would be torture. So I went like a sick, silly, and bad-hearted +schoolboy, feeding my anger against a fellow-man, when I would have +been better on my knees, crying on God for mercy. And at each of Alan’s +taunts, I hugged myself. “Ah!” thinks I to myself, “I have a better +taunt in readiness; when I lie down and die, you will feel it like a +buffet in your face; ah, what a revenge! ah, how you will regret your +ingratitude and cruelty!” + +All the while, I was growing worse and worse. Once I had fallen, my leg +simply doubling under me, and this had struck Alan for the moment; but I +was afoot so briskly, and set off again with such a natural manner, +that he soon forgot the incident. Flushes of heat went over me, and then +spasms of shuddering. The stitch in my side was hardly bearable. At last +I began to feel that I could trail myself no farther: and with that, +there came on me all at once the wish to have it out with Alan, let my +anger blaze, and be done with my life in a more sudden manner. He had +just called me “Whig.” I stopped. + +“Mr. Stewart,” said I, in a voice that quivered like a fiddle-string, +“you are older than I am, and should know your manners. Do you think +it either very wise or very witty to cast my politics in my teeth? I +thought, where folk differed, it was the part of gentlemen to differ +civilly; and if I did not, I may tell you I could find a better taunt +than some of yours.” + +Alan had stopped opposite to me, his hat cocked, his hands in his +breeches pockets, his head a little on one side. He listened, smiling +evilly, as I could see by the starlight; and when I had done he began to +whistle a Jacobite air. It was the air made in mockery of General Cope’s +defeat at Preston Pans: + + “Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin’ yet? + And are your drums a-beatin’ yet?” + +And it came in my mind that Alan, on the day of that battle, had been +engaged upon the royal side. + +“Why do ye take that air, Mr. Stewart?” said I. “Is that to remind me +you have been beaten on both sides?” + +The air stopped on Alan’s lips. “David!” said he. + +“But it’s time these manners ceased,” I continued; “and I mean you shall +henceforth speak civilly of my King and my good friends the Campbells.” + +“I am a Stewart--” began Alan. + +“O!” says I, “I ken ye bear a king’s name. But you are to remember, +since I have been in the Highlands, I have seen a good many of those +that bear it; and the best I can say of them is this, that they would be +none the worse of washing.” + +“Do you know that you insult me?” said Alan, very low. + +“I am sorry for that,” said I, “for I am not done; and if you distaste +the sermon, I doubt the pirliecue* will please you as little. You have +been chased in the field by the grown men of my party; it seems a poor +kind of pleasure to out-face a boy. Both the Campbells and the Whigs +have beaten you; you have run before them like a hare. It behoves you to +speak of them as of your betters.” + + * A second sermon. + +Alan stood quite still, the tails of his great-coat clapping behind him +in the wind. + +“This is a pity,” he said at last. “There are things said that cannot be +passed over.” + +“I never asked you to,” said I. “I am as ready as yourself.” + +“Ready?” said he. + +“Ready,” I repeated. “I am no blower and boaster like some that I could +name. Come on!” And drawing my sword, I fell on guard as Alan himself +had taught me. + +“David!” he cried. “Are ye daft? I cannae draw upon ye, David. It’s +fair murder.” + +“That was your look-out when you insulted me,” said I. + +“It’s the truth!” cried Alan, and he stood for a moment, wringing his +mouth in his hand like a man in sore perplexity. “It’s the bare truth,” + he said, and drew his sword. But before I could touch his blade with +mine, he had thrown it from him and fallen to the ground. “Na, na,” he +kept saying, “na, na--I cannae, I cannae.” + +At this the last of my anger oozed all out of me; and I found myself +only sick, and sorry, and blank, and wondering at myself. I would have +given the world to take back what I had said; but a word once spoken, +who can recapture it? I minded me of all Alan’s kindness and courage in +the past, how he had helped and cheered and borne with me in our evil +days; and then recalled my own insults, and saw that I had lost for ever +that doughty friend. At the same time, the sickness that hung upon +me seemed to redouble, and the pang in my side was like a sword for +sharpness. I thought I must have swooned where I stood. + +This it was that gave me a thought. No apology could blot out what I had +said; it was needless to think of one, none could cover the offence; but +where an apology was vain, a mere cry for help might bring Alan back to +my side. I put my pride away from me. “Alan!” I said; “if ye cannae help +me, I must just die here.” + +He started up sitting, and looked at me. + +“It’s true,” said I. “I’m by with it. O, let me get into the bield of a +house--I’ll can die there easier.” I had no need to pretend; whether I +chose or not, I spoke in a weeping voice that would have melted a heart +of stone. + +“Can ye walk?” asked Alan. + +“No,” said I, “not without help. This last hour my legs have been +fainting under me; I’ve a stitch in my side like a red-hot iron; I +cannae breathe right. If I die, ye’ll can forgive me, Alan? In my heart, +I liked ye fine--even when I was the angriest.” + +“Wheesht, wheesht!” cried Alan. “Dinna say that! David man, ye ken--” He +shut his mouth upon a sob. “Let me get my arm about ye,” he continued; +“that’s the way! Now lean upon me hard. Gude kens where there’s a house! +We’re in Balwhidder, too; there should be no want of houses, no, nor +friends’ houses here. Do ye gang easier so, Davie?” + +“Ay,” said I, “I can be doing this way;” and I pressed his arm with my +hand. + +Again he came near sobbing. “Davie,” said he, “I’m no a right man at +all; I have neither sense nor kindness; I could nae remember ye were +just a bairn, I couldnae see ye were dying on your feet; Davie, ye’ll +have to try and forgive me.” + +“O man, let’s say no more about it!” said I. “We’re neither one of us +to mend the other--that’s the truth! We must just bear and forbear, man +Alan. O, but my stitch is sore! Is there nae house?” + +“I’ll find a house to ye, David,” he said, stoutly. “We’ll follow down +the burn, where there’s bound to be houses. My poor man, will ye no be +better on my back?” + +“O, Alan,” says I, “and me a good twelve inches taller?” + +“Ye’re no such a thing,” cried Alan, with a start. “There may be a +trifling matter of an inch or two; I’m no saying I’m just exactly what +ye would call a tall man, whatever; and I dare say,” he added, his voice +tailing off in a laughable manner, “now when I come to think of it, I +dare say ye’ll be just about right. Ay, it’ll be a foot, or near hand; +or may be even mair!” + +It was sweet and laughable to hear Alan eat his words up in the fear of +some fresh quarrel. I could have laughed, had not my stitch caught me so +hard; but if I had laughed, I think I must have wept too. + +“Alan,” cried I, “what makes ye so good to me? What makes ye care for +such a thankless fellow?” + +“‘Deed, and I don’t know” said Alan. “For just precisely what I thought +I liked about ye, was that ye never quarrelled:--and now I like ye +better!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +IN BALQUHIDDER + +At the door of the first house we came to, Alan knocked, which was of +no very safe enterprise in such a part of the Highlands as the Braes of +Balquhidder. No great clan held rule there; it was filled and disputed +by small septs, and broken remnants, and what they call “chiefless +folk,” driven into the wild country about the springs of Forth and Teith +by the advance of the Campbells. Here were Stewarts and Maclarens, which +came to the same thing, for the Maclarens followed Alan’s chief in war, +and made but one clan with Appin. Here, too, were many of that old, +proscribed, nameless, red-handed clan of the Macgregors. They had always +been ill-considered, and now worse than ever, having credit with no side +or party in the whole country of Scotland. Their chief, Macgregor of +Macgregor, was in exile; the more immediate leader of that part of them +about Balquhidder, James More, Rob Roy’s eldest son, lay waiting his +trial in Edinburgh Castle; they were in ill-blood with Highlander and +Lowlander, with the Grahames, the Maclarens, and the Stewarts; and Alan, +who took up the quarrel of any friend, however distant, was extremely +wishful to avoid them. + +Chance served us very well; for it was a household of Maclarens that we +found, where Alan was not only welcome for his name’s sake but known +by reputation. Here then I was got to bed without delay, and a doctor +fetched, who found me in a sorry plight. But whether because he was a +very good doctor, or I a very young, strong man, I lay bedridden for no +more than a week, and before a month I was able to take the road again +with a good heart. + +All this time Alan would not leave me though I often pressed him, and +indeed his foolhardiness in staying was a common subject of outcry with +the two or three friends that were let into the secret. He hid by day +in a hole of the braes under a little wood; and at night, when the coast +was clear, would come into the house to visit me. I need not say if I +was pleased to see him; Mrs. Maclaren, our hostess, thought nothing good +enough for such a guest; and as Duncan Dhu (which was the name of our +host) had a pair of pipes in his house, and was much of a lover of +music, this time of my recovery was quite a festival, and we commonly +turned night into day. + +The soldiers let us be; although once a party of two companies and some +dragoons went by in the bottom of the valley, where I could see them +through the window as I lay in bed. What was much more astonishing, no +magistrate came near me, and there was no question put of whence I came +or whither I was going; and in that time of excitement, I was as free of +all inquiry as though I had lain in a desert. Yet my presence was known +before I left to all the people in Balquhidder and the adjacent parts; +many coming about the house on visits and these (after the custom of the +country) spreading the news among their neighbours. The bills, too, had +now been printed. There was one pinned near the foot of my bed, where +I could read my own not very flattering portrait and, in larger +characters, the amount of the blood money that had been set upon my +life. Duncan Dhu and the rest that knew that I had come there in Alan’s +company, could have entertained no doubt of who I was; and many others +must have had their guess. For though I had changed my clothes, I could +not change my age or person; and Lowland boys of eighteen were not so +rife in these parts of the world, and above all about that time, that +they could fail to put one thing with another, and connect me with the +bill. So it was, at least. Other folk keep a secret among two or three +near friends, and somehow it leaks out; but among these clansmen, it is +told to a whole countryside, and they will keep it for a century. + +There was but one thing happened worth narrating; and that is the visit +I had of Robin Oig, one of the sons of the notorious Rob Roy. He was +sought upon all sides on a charge of carrying a young woman from +Balfron and marrying her (as was alleged) by force; yet he stepped about +Balquhidder like a gentleman in his own walled policy. It was he who had +shot James Maclaren at the plough stilts, a quarrel never satisfied; yet +he walked into the house of his blood enemies as a rider* might into a + public inn.* Commercial traveller. + +Duncan had time to pass me word of who it was; and we looked at one +another in concern. You should understand, it was then close upon the +time of Alan’s coming; the two were little likely to agree; and yet if +we sent word or sought to make a signal, it was sure to arouse suspicion +in a man under so dark a cloud as the Macgregor. + +He came in with a great show of civility, but like a man among +inferiors; took off his bonnet to Mrs. Maclaren, but clapped it on his +head again to speak to Duncan; and having thus set himself (as he would +have thought) in a proper light, came to my bedside and bowed. + +“I am given to know, sir,” says he, “that your name is Balfour.” + +“They call me David Balfour,” said I, “at your service.” + +“I would give ye my name in return, sir,” he replied, “but it’s one +somewhat blown upon of late days; and it’ll perhaps suffice if I tell +ye that I am own brother to James More Drummond or Macgregor, of whom ye +will scarce have failed to hear.” + +“No, sir,” said I, a little alarmed; “nor yet of your father, +Macgregor-Campbell.” And I sat up and bowed in bed; for I thought best +to compliment him, in case he was proud of having had an outlaw to his +father. + +He bowed in return. “But what I am come to say, sir,” he went on, “is +this. In the year ‘45, my brother raised a part of the ‘Gregara’ and +marched six companies to strike a stroke for the good side; and the +surgeon that marched with our clan and cured my brother’s leg when it +was broken in the brush at Preston Pans, was a gentleman of the same +name precisely as yourself. He was brother to Balfour of Baith; and if +you are in any reasonable degree of nearness one of that gentleman’s +kin, I have come to put myself and my people at your command.” + +You are to remember that I knew no more of my descent than any cadger’s +dog; my uncle, to be sure, had prated of some of our high connections, +but nothing to the present purpose; and there was nothing left me but +that bitter disgrace of owning that I could not tell. + +Robin told me shortly he was sorry he had put himself about, turned his +back upon me without a sign of salutation, and as he went towards the +door, I could hear him telling Duncan that I was “only some kinless loon +that didn’t know his own father.” Angry as I was at these words, and +ashamed of my own ignorance, I could scarce keep from smiling that a +man who was under the lash of the law (and was indeed hanged some three +years later) should be so nice as to the descent of his acquaintances. + +Just in the door, he met Alan coming in; and the two drew back and +looked at each other like strange dogs. They were neither of them big +men, but they seemed fairly to swell out with pride. Each wore a sword, +and by a movement of his haunch, thrust clear the hilt of it, so that it +might be the more readily grasped and the blade drawn. + +“Mr. Stewart, I am thinking,” says Robin. + +“Troth, Mr. Macgregor, it’s not a name to be ashamed of,” answered Alan. + +“I did not know ye were in my country, sir,” says Robin. + +“It sticks in my mind that I am in the country of my friends the +Maclarens,” says Alan. + +“That’s a kittle point,” returned the other. “There may be two words to +say to that. But I think I will have heard that you are a man of your +sword?” + +“Unless ye were born deaf, Mr. Macgregor, ye will have heard a good deal +more than that,” says Alan. “I am not the only man that can draw steel +in Appin; and when my kinsman and captain, Ardshiel, had a talk with a +gentleman of your name, not so many years back, I could never hear that +the Macgregor had the best of it.” + +“Do ye mean my father, sir?” says Robin. + +“Well, I wouldnae wonder,” said Alan. “The gentleman I have in my mind +had the ill-taste to clap Campbell to his name.” + +“My father was an old man,” returned Robin. + +“The match was unequal. You and me would make a better pair, sir.” + +“I was thinking that,” said Alan. + +I was half out of bed, and Duncan had been hanging at the elbow of these +fighting cocks, ready to intervene upon the least occasion. But when +that word was uttered, it was a case of now or never; and Duncan, with +something of a white face to be sure, thrust himself between. + +“Gentlemen,” said he, “I will have been thinking of a very different +matter, whateffer. Here are my pipes, and here are you two gentlemen who +are baith acclaimed pipers. It’s an auld dispute which one of ye’s the +best. Here will be a braw chance to settle it.” + +“Why, sir,” said Alan, still addressing Robin, from whom indeed he had +not so much as shifted his eyes, nor yet Robin from him, “why, sir,” + says Alan, “I think I will have heard some sough* of the sort. Have ye +music, as folk say? Are ye a bit of a piper?” + + * Rumour. + +“I can pipe like a Macrimmon!” cries Robin. + +“And that is a very bold word,” quoth Alan. + +“I have made bolder words good before now,” returned Robin, “and that +against better adversaries.” + +“It is easy to try that,” says Alan. + +Duncan Dhu made haste to bring out the pair of pipes that was his +principal possession, and to set before his guests a mutton-ham and a +bottle of that drink which they call Athole brose, and which is made of +old whiskey, strained honey and sweet cream, slowly beaten together in +the right order and proportion. The two enemies were still on the very +breach of a quarrel; but down they sat, one upon each side of the peat +fire, with a mighty show of politeness. Maclaren pressed them to taste +his mutton-ham and “the wife’s brose,” reminding them the wife was out +of Athole and had a name far and wide for her skill in that confection. +But Robin put aside these hospitalities as bad for the breath. + +“I would have ye to remark, sir,” said Alan, “that I havenae broken +bread for near upon ten hours, which will be worse for the breath than +any brose in Scotland.” + +“I will take no advantages, Mr. Stewart,” replied Robin. “Eat and drink; +I’ll follow you.” + +Each ate a small portion of the ham and drank a glass of the brose to +Mrs. Maclaren; and then after a great number of civilities, Robin took +the pipes and played a little spring in a very ranting manner. + +“Ay, ye can blow” said Alan; and taking the instrument from his rival, +he first played the same spring in a manner identical with Robin’s; and +then wandered into variations, which, as he went on, he decorated with +a perfect flight of grace-notes, such as pipers love, and call the +“warblers.” + +I had been pleased with Robin’s playing, Alan’s ravished me. + +“That’s no very bad, Mr. Stewart,” said the rival, “but ye show a poor +device in your warblers.” + +“Me!” cried Alan, the blood starting to his face. “I give ye the lie.” + +“Do ye own yourself beaten at the pipes, then,” said Robin, “that ye +seek to change them for the sword?” + +“And that’s very well said, Mr. Macgregor,” returned Alan; “and in the +meantime” (laying a strong accent on the word) “I take back the lie. I +appeal to Duncan.” + +“Indeed, ye need appeal to naebody,” said Robin. “Ye’re a far better +judge than any Maclaren in Balquhidder: for it’s a God’s truth that +you’re a very creditable piper for a Stewart. Hand me the pipes.” Alan +did as he asked; and Robin proceeded to imitate and correct some part of +Alan’s variations, which it seemed that he remembered perfectly. + +“Ay, ye have music,” said Alan, gloomily. + +“And now be the judge yourself, Mr. Stewart,” said Robin; and taking up +the variations from the beginning, he worked them throughout to so new a +purpose, with such ingenuity and sentiment, and with so odd a fancy and +so quick a knack in the grace-notes, that I was amazed to hear him. + +As for Alan, his face grew dark and hot, and he sat and gnawed his +fingers, like a man under some deep affront. “Enough!” he cried. “Ye can +blow the pipes--make the most of that.” And he made as if to rise. + +But Robin only held out his hand as if to ask for silence, and struck +into the slow measure of a pibroch. It was a fine piece of music in +itself, and nobly played; but it seems, besides, it was a piece peculiar +to the Appin Stewarts and a chief favourite with Alan. The first notes +were scarce out, before there came a change in his face; when the time +quickened, he seemed to grow restless in his seat; and long before that +piece was at an end, the last signs of his anger died from him, and he +had no thought but for the music. + +“Robin Oig,” he said, when it was done, “ye are a great piper. I am not +fit to blow in the same kingdom with ye. Body of me! ye have mair music +in your sporran than I have in my head! And though it still sticks in +my mind that I could maybe show ye another of it with the cold steel, +I warn ye beforehand--it’ll no be fair! It would go against my heart to +haggle a man that can blow the pipes as you can!” + +Thereupon that quarrel was made up; all night long the brose was going +and the pipes changing hands; and the day had come pretty bright, and +the three men were none the better for what they had been taking, before +Robin as much as thought upon the road. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH + +The month, as I have said, was not yet out, but it was already far +through August, and beautiful warm weather, with every sign of an early +and great harvest, when I was pronounced able for my journey. Our money +was now run to so low an ebb that we must think first of all on speed; +for if we came not soon to Mr. Rankeillor’s, or if when we came there he +should fail to help me, we must surely starve. In Alan’s view, besides, +the hunt must have now greatly slackened; and the line of the Forth and +even Stirling Bridge, which is the main pass over that river, would be +watched with little interest. + +“It’s a chief principle in military affairs,” said he, “to go where +ye are least expected. Forth is our trouble; ye ken the saying, ‘Forth +bridles the wild Hielandman.’ Well, if we seek to creep round about +the head of that river and come down by Kippen or Balfron, it’s just +precisely there that they’ll be looking to lay hands on us. But if we +stave on straight to the auld Brig of Stirling, I’ll lay my sword they +let us pass unchallenged.” + +The first night, accordingly, we pushed to the house of a Maclaren in +Strathire, a friend of Duncan’s, where we slept the twenty-first of the +month, and whence we set forth again about the fall of night to make +another easy stage. The twenty-second we lay in a heather bush on the +hillside in Uam Var, within view of a herd of deer, the happiest ten +hours of sleep in a fine, breathing sunshine and on bone-dry ground, +that I have ever tasted. That night we struck Allan Water, and followed +it down; and coming to the edge of the hills saw the whole Carse of +Stirling underfoot, as flat as a pancake, with the town and castle on a +hill in the midst of it, and the moon shining on the Links of Forth. + +“Now,” said Alan, “I kenna if ye care, but ye’re in your own land again. +We passed the Hieland Line in the first hour; and now if we could but +pass yon crooked water, we might cast our bonnets in the air.” + +In Allan Water, near by where it falls into the Forth, we found a little +sandy islet, overgrown with burdock, butterbur and the like low plants, +that would just cover us if we lay flat. Here it was we made our camp, +within plain view of Stirling Castle, whence we could hear the drums +beat as some part of the garrison paraded. Shearers worked all day in +a field on one side of the river, and we could hear the stones going +on the hooks and the voices and even the words of the men talking. It +behoved to lie close and keep silent. But the sand of the little isle +was sun-warm, the green plants gave us shelter for our heads, we had +food and drink in plenty; and to crown all, we were within sight of +safety. + +As soon as the shearers quit their work and the dusk began to fall, +we waded ashore and struck for the Bridge of Stirling, keeping to the +fields and under the field fences. + +The bridge is close under the castle hill, an old, high, narrow bridge +with pinnacles along the parapet; and you may conceive with how much +interest I looked upon it, not only as a place famous in history, but as +the very doors of salvation to Alan and myself. The moon was not yet up +when we came there; a few lights shone along the front of the fortress, +and lower down a few lighted windows in the town; but it was all mighty +still, and there seemed to be no guard upon the passage. + +I was for pushing straight across; but Alan was more wary. + +“It looks unco’ quiet,” said he; “but for all that we’ll lie down here +cannily behind a dyke, and make sure.” + +So we lay for about a quarter of an hour, whiles whispering, whiles +lying still and hearing nothing earthly but the washing of the water on +the piers. At last there came by an old, hobbling woman with a crutch +stick; who first stopped a little, close to where we lay, and bemoaned +herself and the long way she had travelled; and then set forth again up +the steep spring of the bridge. The woman was so little, and the night +still so dark, that we soon lost sight of her; only heard the sound of +her steps, and her stick, and a cough that she had by fits, draw slowly +farther away. + +“She’s bound to be across now,” I whispered. + +“Na,” said Alan, “her foot still sounds boss* upon the bridge.” + + * Hollow. + +And just then--“Who goes?” cried a voice, and we heard the butt of +a musket rattle on the stones. I must suppose the sentry had been +sleeping, so that had we tried, we might have passed unseen; but he was +awake now, and the chance forfeited. + +“This’ll never do,” said Alan. “This’ll never, never do for us, David.” + +And without another word, he began to crawl away through the fields; and +a little after, being well out of eye-shot, got to his feet again, and +struck along a road that led to the eastward. I could not conceive what +he was doing; and indeed I was so sharply cut by the disappointment, +that I was little likely to be pleased with anything. A moment back +and I had seen myself knocking at Mr. Rankeillor’s door to claim my +inheritance, like a hero in a ballad; and here was I back again, a +wandering, hunted blackguard, on the wrong side of Forth. + +“Well?” said I. + +“Well,” said Alan, “what would ye have? They’re none such fools as I +took them for. We have still the Forth to pass, Davie--weary fall the +rains that fed and the hillsides that guided it!” + +“And why go east?” said I. + +“Ou, just upon the chance!” said he. “If we cannae pass the river, we’ll +have to see what we can do for the firth.” + +“There are fords upon the river, and none upon the firth,” said I. + +“To be sure there are fords, and a bridge forbye,” quoth Alan; “and of +what service, when they are watched?” + +“Well,” said I, “but a river can be swum.” + +“By them that have the skill of it,” returned he; “but I have yet to +hear that either you or me is much of a hand at that exercise; and for +my own part, I swim like a stone.” + +“I’m not up to you in talking back, Alan,” I said; “but I can see we’re +making bad worse. If it’s hard to pass a river, it stands to reason it +must be worse to pass a sea.” + +“But there’s such a thing as a boat,” says Alan, “or I’m the more +deceived.” + +“Ay, and such a thing as money,” says I. “But for us that have neither +one nor other, they might just as well not have been invented.” + +“Ye think so?” said Alan. + +“I do that,” said I. + +“David,” says he, “ye’re a man of small invention and less faith. But +let me set my wits upon the hone, and if I cannae beg, borrow, nor yet +steal a boat, I’ll make one!” + +“I think I see ye!” said I. “And what’s more than all that: if ye pass a +bridge, it can tell no tales; but if we pass the firth, there’s the boat +on the wrong side--somebody must have brought it--the country-side will +all be in a bizz---” + +“Man!” cried Alan, “if I make a boat, I’ll make a body to take it back +again! So deave me with no more of your nonsense, but walk (for that’s +what you’ve got to do)--and let Alan think for ye.” + +All night, then, we walked through the north side of the Carse under +the high line of the Ochil mountains; and by Alloa and Clackmannan and +Culross, all of which we avoided: and about ten in the morning, mighty +hungry and tired, came to the little clachan of Limekilns. This is a +place that sits near in by the water-side, and looks across the Hope to +the town of the Queensferry. Smoke went up from both of these, and from +other villages and farms upon all hands. The fields were being reaped; +two ships lay anchored, and boats were coming and going on the Hope. +It was altogether a right pleasant sight to me; and I could not take +my fill of gazing at these comfortable, green, cultivated hills and the +busy people both of the field and sea. + +For all that, there was Mr. Rankeillor’s house on the south shore, where +I had no doubt wealth awaited me; and here was I upon the north, clad in +poor enough attire of an outlandish fashion, with three silver shillings +left to me of all my fortune, a price set upon my head, and an outlawed +man for my sole company. + +“O, Alan!” said I, “to think of it! Over there, there’s all that heart +could want waiting me; and the birds go over, and the boats go over--all +that please can go, but just me only! O, man, but it’s a heart-break!” + +In Limekilns we entered a small change-house, which we only knew to be a +public by the wand over the door, and bought some bread and cheese from +a good-looking lass that was the servant. This we carried with us in a +bundle, meaning to sit and eat it in a bush of wood on the sea-shore, +that we saw some third part of a mile in front. As we went, I kept +looking across the water and sighing to myself; and though I took no +heed of it, Alan had fallen into a muse. At last he stopped in the way. + +“Did ye take heed of the lass we bought this of?” says he, tapping on +the bread and cheese. + +“To be sure,” said I, “and a bonny lass she was.” + +“Ye thought that?” cries he. “Man, David, that’s good news.” + +“In the name of all that’s wonderful, why so?” says I. “What good can +that do?” + +“Well,” said Alan, with one of his droll looks, “I was rather in hopes +it would maybe get us that boat.” + +“If it were the other way about, it would be liker it,” said I. + +“That’s all that you ken, ye see,” said Alan. “I don’t want the lass to +fall in love with ye, I want her to be sorry for ye, David; to which end +there is no manner of need that she should take you for a beauty. Let me +see” (looking me curiously over). “I wish ye were a wee thing paler; but +apart from that ye’ll do fine for my purpose--ye have a fine, hang-dog, +rag-and-tatter, clappermaclaw kind of a look to ye, as if ye had +stolen the coat from a potato-bogle. Come; right about, and back to the +change-house for that boat of ours.” + +I followed him, laughing. + +“David Balfour,” said he, “ye’re a very funny gentleman by your way of +it, and this is a very funny employ for ye, no doubt. For all that, if +ye have any affection for my neck (to say nothing of your own) ye will +perhaps be kind enough to take this matter responsibly. I am going to +do a bit of play-acting, the bottom ground of which is just exactly as +serious as the gallows for the pair of us. So bear it, if ye please, in +mind, and conduct yourself according.” + +“Well, well,” said I, “have it as you will.” + +As we got near the clachan, he made me take his arm and hang upon it +like one almost helpless with weariness; and by the time he pushed +open the change-house door, he seemed to be half carrying me. The maid +appeared surprised (as well she might be) at our speedy return; but +Alan had no words to spare for her in explanation, helped me to a chair, +called for a tass of brandy with which he fed me in little sips, +and then breaking up the bread and cheese helped me to eat it like +a nursery-lass; the whole with that grave, concerned, affectionate +countenance, that might have imposed upon a judge. It was small wonder +if the maid were taken with the picture we presented, of a poor, sick, +overwrought lad and his most tender comrade. She drew quite near, and +stood leaning with her back on the next table. + +“What’s like wrong with him?” said she at last. + +Alan turned upon her, to my great wonder, with a kind of fury. “Wrong?” + cries he. “He’s walked more hundreds of miles than he has hairs upon his +chin, and slept oftener in wet heather than dry sheets. Wrong, quo’ she! +Wrong enough, I would think! Wrong, indeed!” and he kept grumbling to +himself as he fed me, like a man ill-pleased. + +“He’s young for the like of that,” said the maid. + +“Ower young,” said Alan, with his back to her. + +“He would be better riding,” says she. + +“And where could I get a horse to him?” cried Alan, turning on her with +the same appearance of fury. “Would ye have me steal?” + +I thought this roughness would have sent her off in dudgeon, as indeed +it closed her mouth for the time. But my companion knew very well what +he was doing; and for as simple as he was in some things of life, had a +great fund of roguishness in such affairs as these. + +“Ye neednae tell me,” she said at last--“ye’re gentry.” + +“Well,” said Alan, softened a little (I believe against his will) by +this artless comment, “and suppose we were? Did ever you hear that +gentrice put money in folk’s pockets?” + +She sighed at this, as if she were herself some disinherited great lady. +“No,” says she, “that’s true indeed.” + +I was all this while chafing at the part I played, and sitting +tongue-tied between shame and merriment; but somehow at this I could +hold in no longer, and bade Alan let me be, for I was better already. My +voice stuck in my throat, for I ever hated to take part in lies; but my +very embarrassment helped on the plot, for the lass no doubt set down my +husky voice to sickness and fatigue. + +“Has he nae friends?” said she, in a tearful voice. + +“That has he so!” cried Alan, “if we could but win to them!--friends and +rich friends, beds to lie in, food to eat, doctors to see to him--and +here he must tramp in the dubs and sleep in the heather like a +beggarman.” + +“And why that?” says the lass. + +“My dear,” said Alan, “I cannae very safely say; but I’ll tell ye what +I’ll do instead,” says he, “I’ll whistle ye a bit tune.” And with that +he leaned pretty far over the table, and in a mere breath of a whistle, +but with a wonderful pretty sentiment, gave her a few bars of “Charlie +is my darling.” + +“Wheesht,” says she, and looked over her shoulder to the door. + +“That’s it,” said Alan. + +“And him so young!” cries the lass. + +“He’s old enough to----” and Alan struck his forefinger on the back part +of his neck, meaning that I was old enough to lose my head. + +“It would be a black shame,” she cried, flushing high. + +“It’s what will be, though,” said Alan, “unless we manage the better.” + +At this the lass turned and ran out of that part of the house, leaving +us alone together. Alan in high good humour at the furthering of his +schemes, and I in bitter dudgeon at being called a Jacobite and treated +like a child. + +“Alan,” I cried, “I can stand no more of this.” + +“Ye’ll have to sit it then, Davie,” said he. “For if ye upset the pot +now, ye may scrape your own life out of the fire, but Alan Breck is a +dead man.” + +This was so true that I could only groan; and even my groan served +Alan’s purpose, for it was overheard by the lass as she came flying in +again with a dish of white puddings and a bottle of strong ale. + +“Poor lamb!” says she, and had no sooner set the meat before us, than +she touched me on the shoulder with a little friendly touch, as much as +to bid me cheer up. Then she told us to fall to, and there would be no +more to pay; for the inn was her own, or at least her father’s, and he +was gone for the day to Pittencrieff. We waited for no second bidding, +for bread and cheese is but cold comfort and the puddings smelt +excellently well; and while we sat and ate, she took up that same place +by the next table, looking on, and thinking, and frowning to herself, +and drawing the string of her apron through her hand. + +“I’m thinking ye have rather a long tongue,” she said at last to Alan. + +“Ay” said Alan; “but ye see I ken the folk I speak to.” + +“I would never betray ye,” said she, “if ye mean that.” + +“No,” said he, “ye’re not that kind. But I’ll tell ye what ye would do, +ye would help.” + +“I couldnae,” said she, shaking her head. “Na, I couldnae.” + +“No,” said he, “but if ye could?” + +She answered him nothing. + +“Look here, my lass,” said Alan, “there are boats in the Kingdom of +Fife, for I saw two (no less) upon the beach, as I came in by your +town’s end. Now if we could have the use of a boat to pass under cloud +of night into Lothian, and some secret, decent kind of a man to bring +that boat back again and keep his counsel, there would be two souls +saved--mine to all likelihood--his to a dead surety. If we lack that +boat, we have but three shillings left in this wide world; and where +to go, and how to do, and what other place there is for us except the +chains of a gibbet--I give you my naked word, I kenna! Shall we go +wanting, lassie? Are ye to lie in your warm bed and think upon us, when +the wind gowls in the chimney and the rain tirls on the roof? Are ye to +eat your meat by the cheeks of a red fire, and think upon this poor sick +lad of mine, biting his finger ends on a blae muir for cauld and hunger? +Sick or sound, he must aye be moving; with the death grapple at his +throat he must aye be trailing in the rain on the lang roads; and when +he gants his last on a rickle of cauld stanes, there will be nae friends +near him but only me and God.” + +At this appeal, I could see the lass was in great trouble of mind, +being tempted to help us, and yet in some fear she might be helping +malefactors; and so now I determined to step in myself and to allay her +scruples with a portion of the truth. + +“Did ever you hear,” said I, “of Mr. Rankeillor of the Ferry?” + +“Rankeillor the writer?” said she. “I daur say that!” + +“Well,” said I, “it’s to his door that I am bound, so you may judge by +that if I am an ill-doer; and I will tell you more, that though I am +indeed, by a dreadful error, in some peril of my life, King George has +no truer friend in all Scotland than myself.” + +Her face cleared up mightily at this, although Alan’s darkened. + +“That’s more than I would ask,” said she. “Mr. Rankeillor is a kennt +man.” And she bade us finish our meat, get clear of the clachan as soon +as might be, and lie close in the bit wood on the sea-beach. “And ye can +trust me,” says she, “I’ll find some means to put you over.” + +At this we waited for no more, but shook hands with her upon the +bargain, made short work of the puddings, and set forth again from +Limekilns as far as to the wood. It was a small piece of perhaps a score +of elders and hawthorns and a few young ashes, not thick enough to veil +us from passersby upon the road or beach. Here we must lie, however, +making the best of the brave warm weather and the good hopes we now had +of a deliverance, and planing more particularly what remained for us to +do. + +We had but one trouble all day; when a strolling piper came and sat in +the same wood with us; a red-nosed, bleareyed, drunken dog, with a great +bottle of whisky in his pocket, and a long story of wrongs that had been +done him by all sorts of persons, from the Lord President of the +Court of Session, who had denied him justice, down to the Bailies of +Inverkeithing who had given him more of it than he desired. It was +impossible but he should conceive some suspicion of two men lying all +day concealed in a thicket and having no business to allege. As long as +he stayed there he kept us in hot water with prying questions; and after +he was gone, as he was a man not very likely to hold his tongue, we were +in the greater impatience to be gone ourselves. + +The day came to an end with the same brightness; the night fell quiet +and clear; lights came out in houses and hamlets and then, one after +another, began to be put out; but it was past eleven, and we were long +since strangely tortured with anxieties, before we heard the grinding +of oars upon the rowing-pins. At that, we looked out and saw the lass +herself coming rowing to us in a boat. She had trusted no one with our +affairs, not even her sweetheart, if she had one; but as soon as her +father was asleep, had left the house by a window, stolen a neighbour’s +boat, and come to our assistance single-handed. + +I was abashed how to find expression for my thanks; but she was no less +abashed at the thought of hearing them; begged us to lose no time and to +hold our peace, saying (very properly) that the heart of our matter was +in haste and silence; and so, what with one thing and another, she had +set us on the Lothian shore not far from Carriden, had shaken hands with +us, and was out again at sea and rowing for Limekilns, before there was +one word said either of her service or our gratitude. + +Even after she was gone, we had nothing to say, as indeed nothing was +enough for such a kindness. Only Alan stood a great while upon the shore +shaking his head. + +“It is a very fine lass,” he said at last. “David, it is a very fine +lass.” And a matter of an hour later, as we were lying in a den on +the sea-shore and I had been already dozing, he broke out again in +commendations of her character. For my part, I could say nothing, she +was so simple a creature that my heart smote me both with remorse and +fear: remorse because we had traded upon her ignorance; and fear lest we +should have anyway involved her in the dangers of our situation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR + +The next day it was agreed that Alan should fend for himself till +sunset; but as soon as it began to grow dark, he should lie in the +fields by the roadside near to Newhalls, and stir for naught until he +heard me whistling. At first I proposed I should give him for a signal +the “Bonnie House of Airlie,” which was a favourite of mine; but he +objected that as the piece was very commonly known, any ploughman might +whistle it by accident; and taught me instead a little fragment of a +Highland air, which has run in my head from that day to this, and will +likely run in my head when I lie dying. Every time it comes to me, it +takes me off to that last day of my uncertainty, with Alan sitting up in +the bottom of the den, whistling and beating the measure with a finger, +and the grey of the dawn coming on his face. + +I was in the long street of Queensferry before the sun was up. It was a +fairly built burgh, the houses of good stone, many slated; the town-hall +not so fine, I thought, as that of Peebles, nor yet the street so noble; +but take it altogether, it put me to shame for my foul tatters. + + + +As the morning went on, and the fires began to be kindled, and the +windows to open, and the people to appear out of the houses, my concern +and despondency grew ever the blacker. I saw now that I had no grounds +to stand upon; and no clear proof of my rights, nor so much as of my own +identity. If it was all a bubble, I was indeed sorely cheated and left +in a sore pass. Even if things were as I conceived, it would in all +likelihood take time to establish my contentions; and what time had I +to spare with less than three shillings in my pocket, and a condemned, +hunted man upon my hands to ship out of the country? Truly, if my hope +broke with me, it might come to the gallows yet for both of us. And as I +continued to walk up and down, and saw people looking askance at me upon +the street or out of windows, and nudging or speaking one to another +with smiles, I began to take a fresh apprehension: that it might be no +easy matter even to come to speech of the lawyer, far less to convince +him of my story. + +For the life of me I could not muster up the courage to address any of +these reputable burghers; I thought shame even to speak with them in +such a pickle of rags and dirt; and if I had asked for the house of such +a man as Mr. Rankeillor, I suppose they would have burst out laughing in +my face. So I went up and down, and through the street, and down to +the harbour-side, like a dog that has lost its master, with a strange +gnawing in my inwards, and every now and then a movement of despair. +It grew to be high day at last, perhaps nine in the forenoon; and I was +worn with these wanderings, and chanced to have stopped in front of +a very good house on the landward side, a house with beautiful, clear +glass windows, flowering knots upon the sills, the walls new-harled* and +a chase-dog sitting yawning on the step like one that was at home. Well, +I was even envying this dumb brute, when the door fell open and +there issued forth a shrewd, ruddy, kindly, consequential man in a +well-powdered wig and spectacles. I was in such a plight that no one set +eyes on me once, but he looked at me again; and this gentleman, as it +proved, was so much struck with my poor appearance that he came straight +up to me and asked me what I did. + + * Newly rough-cast. + +I told him I was come to the Queensferry on business, and taking heart +of grace, asked him to direct me to the house of Mr. Rankeillor. + +“Why,” said he, “that is his house that I have just come out of; and for +a rather singular chance, I am that very man.” + +“Then, sir,” said I, “I have to beg the favour of an interview.” + +“I do not know your name,” said he, “nor yet your face.” + +“My name is David Balfour,” said I. + +“David Balfour?” he repeated, in rather a high tone, like one surprised. +“And where have you come from, Mr. David Balfour?” he asked, looking me +pretty drily in the face. + +“I have come from a great many strange places, sir,” said I; “but I +think it would be as well to tell you where and how in a more private +manner.” + +He seemed to muse awhile, holding his lip in his hand, and looking now +at me and now upon the causeway of the street. + +“Yes,” says he, “that will be the best, no doubt.” And he led me back +with him into his house, cried out to some one whom I could not see +that he would be engaged all morning, and brought me into a little dusty +chamber full of books and documents. Here he sate down, and bade me +be seated; though I thought he looked a little ruefully from his clean +chair to my muddy rags. “And now,” says he, “if you have any business, +pray be brief and come swiftly to the point. Nec gemino bellum Trojanum +orditur ab ovo--do you understand that?” says he, with a keen look. + +“I will even do as Horace says, sir,” I answered, smiling, “and carry +you in medias res.” He nodded as if he was well pleased, and indeed his +scrap of Latin had been set to test me. For all that, and though I was +somewhat encouraged, the blood came in my face when I added: “I have +reason to believe myself some rights on the estate of Shaws.” + +He got a paper book out of a drawer and set it before him open. “Well?” + said he. + +But I had shot my bolt and sat speechless. + +“Come, come, Mr. Balfour,” said he, “you must continue. Where were you +born?” + +“In Essendean, sir,” said I, “the year 1733, the 12th of March.” + +He seemed to follow this statement in his paper book; but what that +meant I knew not. “Your father and mother?” said he. + +“My father was Alexander Balfour, schoolmaster of that place,” said I, +“and my mother Grace Pitarrow; I think her people were from Angus.” + +“Have you any papers proving your identity?” asked Mr. Rankeillor. + +“No, sir,” said I, “but they are in the hands of Mr. Campbell, the +minister, and could be readily produced. Mr. Campbell, too, would give +me his word; and for that matter, I do not think my uncle would deny +me.” + +“Meaning Mr. Ebenezer Balfour?” says he. + +“The same,” said I. + +“Whom you have seen?” he asked. + +“By whom I was received into his own house,” I answered. + +“Did you ever meet a man of the name of Hoseason?” asked Mr. Rankeillor. + +“I did so, sir, for my sins,” said I; “for it was by his means and the +procurement of my uncle, that I was kidnapped within sight of this town, +carried to sea, suffered shipwreck and a hundred other hardships, and +stand before you to-day in this poor accoutrement.” + +“You say you were shipwrecked,” said Rankeillor; “where was that?” + +“Off the south end of the Isle of Mull,” said I. “The name of the isle +on which I was cast up is the Island Earraid.” + +“Ah!” says he, smiling, “you are deeper than me in the geography. But so +far, I may tell you, this agrees pretty exactly with other informations +that I hold. But you say you were kidnapped; in what sense?” + +“In the plain meaning of the word, sir,” said I. “I was on my way to +your house, when I was trepanned on board the brig, cruelly struck down, +thrown below, and knew no more of anything till we were far at sea. I +was destined for the plantations; a fate that, in God’s providence, I +have escaped.” + +“The brig was lost on June the 27th,” says he, looking in his book, +“and we are now at August the 24th. Here is a considerable hiatus, Mr. +Balfour, of near upon two months. It has already caused a vast amount +of trouble to your friends; and I own I shall not be very well contented +until it is set right.” + +“Indeed, sir,” said I, “these months are very easily filled up; but yet +before I told my story, I would be glad to know that I was talking to a +friend.” + +“This is to argue in a circle,” said the lawyer. “I cannot be convinced +till I have heard you. I cannot be your friend till I am properly +informed. If you were more trustful, it would better befit your time of +life. And you know, Mr. Balfour, we have a proverb in the country that +evil-doers are aye evil-dreaders.” + +“You are not to forget, sir,” said I, “that I have already suffered by +my trustfulness; and was shipped off to be a slave by the very man that +(if I rightly understand) is your employer?” + +All this while I had been gaining ground with Mr. Rankeillor, and in +proportion as I gained ground, gaining confidence. But at this sally, +which I made with something of a smile myself, he fairly laughed aloud. + +“No, no,” said he, “it is not so bad as that. Fui, non sum. I was indeed +your uncle’s man of business; but while you (imberbis juvenis custode +remoto) were gallivanting in the west, a good deal of water has run +under the bridges; and if your ears did not sing, it was not for lack of +being talked about. On the very day of your sea disaster, Mr. Campbell +stalked into my office, demanding you from all the winds. I had never +heard of your existence; but I had known your father; and from matters +in my competence (to be touched upon hereafter) I was disposed to fear +the worst. Mr. Ebenezer admitted having seen you; declared (what seemed +improbable) that he had given you considerable sums; and that you had +started for the continent of Europe, intending to fulfil your education, +which was probable and praiseworthy. Interrogated how you had come to +send no word to Mr. Campbell, he deponed that you had expressed a great +desire to break with your past life. Further interrogated where you now +were, protested ignorance, but believed you were in Leyden. That is a +close sum of his replies. I am not exactly sure that any one believed +him,” continued Mr. Rankeillor with a smile; “and in particular he so +much disrelished me expressions of mine that (in a word) he showed me to +the door. We were then at a full stand; for whatever shrewd suspicions +we might entertain, we had no shadow of probation. In the very article, +comes Captain Hoseason with the story of your drowning; whereupon all +fell through; with no consequences but concern to Mr. Campbell, injury +to my pocket, and another blot upon your uncle’s character, which could +very ill afford it. And now, Mr. Balfour,” said he, “you understand +the whole process of these matters, and can judge for yourself to what +extent I may be trusted.” + +Indeed he was more pedantic than I can represent him, and placed more +scraps of Latin in his speech; but it was all uttered with a fine +geniality of eye and manner which went far to conquer my distrust. +Moreover, I could see he now treated me as if I was myself beyond a +doubt; so that first point of my identity seemed fully granted. + +“Sir,” said I, “if I tell you my story, I must commit a friend’s life +to your discretion. Pass me your word it shall be sacred; and for what +touches myself, I will ask no better guarantee than just your face.” + +He passed me his word very seriously. “But,” said he, “these are rather +alarming prolocutions; and if there are in your story any little jostles +to the law, I would beg you to bear in mind that I am a lawyer, and pass +lightly.” + +Thereupon I told him my story from the first, he listening with his +spectacles thrust up and his eyes closed, so that I sometimes feared +he was asleep. But no such matter! he heard every word (as I found +afterward) with such quickness of hearing and precision of memory as +often surprised me. Even strange outlandish Gaelic names, heard for that +time only, he remembered and would remind me of, years after. Yet when I +called Alan Breck in full, we had an odd scene. The name of Alan had of +course rung through Scotland, with the news of the Appin murder and the +offer of the reward; and it had no sooner escaped me than the lawyer +moved in his seat and opened his eyes. + +“I would name no unnecessary names, Mr. Balfour,” said he; “above all of +Highlanders, many of whom are obnoxious to the law.” + +“Well, it might have been better not,” said I, “but since I have let it +slip, I may as well continue.” + +“Not at all,” said Mr. Rankeillor. “I am somewhat dull of hearing, as +you may have remarked; and I am far from sure I caught the name exactly. +We will call your friend, if you please, Mr. Thomson--that there may +be no reflections. And in future, I would take some such way with any +Highlander that you may have to mention--dead or alive.” + +By this, I saw he must have heard the name all too clearly, and had +already guessed I might be coming to the murder. If he chose to play +this part of ignorance, it was no matter of mine; so I smiled, said it +was no very Highland-sounding name, and consented. Through all the rest +of my story Alan was Mr. Thomson; which amused me the more, as it was a +piece of policy after his own heart. James Stewart, in like manner, +was mentioned under the style of Mr. Thomson’s kinsman; Colin Campbell +passed as a Mr. Glen; and to Cluny, when I came to that part of my tale, +I gave the name of “Mr. Jameson, a Highland chief.” It was truly the +most open farce, and I wondered that the lawyer should care to keep it +up; but, after all, it was quite in the taste of that age, when there +were two parties in the state, and quiet persons, with no very high +opinions of their own, sought out every cranny to avoid offence to +either. + +“Well, well,” said the lawyer, when I had quite done, “this is a great +epic, a great Odyssey of yours. You must tell it, sir, in a sound +Latinity when your scholarship is riper; or in English if you please, +though for my part I prefer the stronger tongue. You have rolled +much; quae regio in terris--what parish in Scotland (to make a homely +translation) has not been filled with your wanderings? You have shown, +besides, a singular aptitude for getting into false positions; and, yes, +upon the whole, for behaving well in them. This Mr. Thomson seems to +me a gentleman of some choice qualities, though perhaps a trifle +bloody-minded. It would please me none the worse, if (with all his +merits) he were soused in the North Sea, for the man, Mr. David, is a +sore embarrassment. But you are doubtless quite right to adhere to him; +indubitably, he adhered to you. It comes--we may say--he was your true +companion; nor less paribus curis vestigia figit, for I dare say you +would both take an orra thought upon the gallows. Well, well, these days +are fortunately by; and I think (speaking humanly) that you are near +the end of your troubles.” + +As he thus moralised on my adventures, he looked upon me with so much +humour and benignity that I could scarce contain my satisfaction. I had +been so long wandering with lawless people, and making my bed upon the +hills and under the bare sky, that to sit once more in a clean, covered +house, and to talk amicably with a gentleman in broadcloth, seemed +mighty elevations. Even as I thought so, my eye fell on my unseemly +tatters, and I was once more plunged in confusion. But the lawyer saw +and understood me. He rose, called over the stair to lay another plate, +for Mr. Balfour would stay to dinner, and led me into a bedroom in the +upper part of the house. Here he set before me water and soap, and a +comb; and laid out some clothes that belonged to his son; and here, with +another apposite tag, he left me to my toilet. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE + +I made what change I could in my appearance; and blithe was I to look in +the glass and find the beggarman a thing of the past, and David Balfour +come to life again. And yet I was ashamed of the change too, and, above +all, of the borrowed clothes. When I had done, Mr. Rankeillor caught +me on the stair, made me his compliments, and had me again into the +cabinet. + +“Sit ye down, Mr. David,” said he, “and now that you are looking a +little more like yourself, let me see if I can find you any news. You +will be wondering, no doubt, about your father and your uncle? To be +sure it is a singular tale; and the explanation is one that I blush to +have to offer you. For,” says he, really with embarrassment, “the matter +hinges on a love affair.” + +“Truly,” said I, “I cannot very well join that notion with my uncle.” + +“But your uncle, Mr. David, was not always old,” replied the lawyer, +“and what may perhaps surprise you more, not always ugly. He had a fine, +gallant air; people stood in their doors to look after him, as he +went by upon a mettle horse. I have seen it with these eyes, and I +ingenuously confess, not altogether without envy; for I was a plain lad +myself and a plain man’s son; and in those days it was a case of Odi te, +qui bellus es, Sabelle.” + +“It sounds like a dream,” said I. + +“Ay, ay,” said the lawyer, “that is how it is with youth and age. Nor +was that all, but he had a spirit of his own that seemed to promise +great things in the future. In 1715, what must he do but run away to +join the rebels? It was your father that pursued him, found him in a +ditch, and brought him back multum gementem; to the mirth of the whole +country. However, majora canamus--the two lads fell in love, and that +with the same lady. Mr. Ebenezer, who was the admired and the beloved, +and the spoiled one, made, no doubt, mighty certain of the victory; +and when he found he had deceived himself, screamed like a peacock. +The whole country heard of it; now he lay sick at home, with his silly +family standing round the bed in tears; now he rode from public-house +to public-house, and shouted his sorrows into the lug of Tom, Dick, and +Harry. Your father, Mr. David, was a kind gentleman; but he was weak, +dolefully weak; took all this folly with a long countenance; and one +day--by your leave!--resigned the lady. She was no such fool, however; +it’s from her you must inherit your excellent good sense; and she +refused to be bandied from one to another. Both got upon their knees +to her; and the upshot of the matter for that while was that she showed +both of them the door. That was in August; dear me! the same year I came +from college. The scene must have been highly farcical.” + +I thought myself it was a silly business, but I could not forget my +father had a hand in it. “Surely, sir, it had some note of tragedy,” + said I. + +“Why, no, sir, not at all,” returned the lawyer. “For tragedy implies +some ponderable matter in dispute, some dignus vindice nodus; and this +piece of work was all about the petulance of a young ass that had been +spoiled, and wanted nothing so much as to be tied up and soundly belted. +However, that was not your father’s view; and the end of it was, that +from concession to concession on your father’s part, and from one height +to another of squalling, sentimental selfishness upon your uncle’s, they +came at last to drive a sort of bargain, from whose ill results you have +recently been smarting. The one man took the lady, the other the estate. +Now, Mr. David, they talk a great deal of charity and generosity; but in +this disputable state of life, I often think the happiest consequences +seem to flow when a gentleman consults his lawyer, and takes all the law +allows him. Anyhow, this piece of Quixotry on your father’s part, as +it was unjust in itself, has brought forth a monstrous family of +injustices. Your father and mother lived and died poor folk; you were +poorly reared; and in the meanwhile, what a time it has been for the +tenants on the estate of Shaws! And I might add (if it was a matter I +cared much about) what a time for Mr. Ebenezer!” + +“And yet that is certainly the strangest part of all,” said I, “that a +man’s nature should thus change.” + +“True,” said Mr. Rankeillor. “And yet I imagine it was natural enough. +He could not think that he had played a handsome part. Those who knew +the story gave him the cold shoulder; those who knew it not, seeing one +brother disappear, and the other succeed in the estate, raised a cry of +murder; so that upon all sides he found himself evited. Money was all +he got by his bargain; well, he came to think the more of money. He was +selfish when he was young, he is selfish now that he is old; and the +latter end of all these pretty manners and fine feelings you have seen +for yourself.” + +“Well, sir,” said I, “and in all this, what is my position?” + +“The estate is yours beyond a doubt,” replied the lawyer. “It matters +nothing what your father signed, you are the heir of entail. But your +uncle is a man to fight the indefensible; and it would be likely your +identity that he would call in question. A lawsuit is always expensive, +and a family lawsuit always scandalous; besides which, if any of your +doings with your friend Mr. Thomson were to come out, we might find that +we had burned our fingers. The kidnapping, to be sure, would be a court +card upon our side, if we could only prove it. But it may be difficult +to prove; and my advice (upon the whole) is to make a very easy bargain +with your uncle, perhaps even leaving him at Shaws where he has +taken root for a quarter of a century, and contenting yourself in the +meanwhile with a fair provision.” + +I told him I was very willing to be easy, and that to carry family +concerns before the public was a step from which I was naturally much +averse. In the meantime (thinking to myself) I began to see the outlines +of that scheme on which we afterwards acted. + +“The great affair,” I asked, “is to bring home to him the kidnapping?” + +“Surely,” said Mr. Rankeillor, “and if possible, out of court. For mark +you here, Mr. David: we could no doubt find some men of the Covenant who +would swear to your reclusion; but once they were in the box, we could +no longer check their testimony, and some word of your friend Mr. +Thomson must certainly crop out. Which (from what you have let fall) I +cannot think to be desirable.” + +“Well, sir,” said I, “here is my way of it.” And I opened my plot to +him. + +“But this would seem to involve my meeting the man Thomson?” says he, +when I had done. + +“I think so, indeed, sir,” said I. + +“Dear doctor!” cries he, rubbing his brow. “Dear doctor! No, Mr. David, +I am afraid your scheme is inadmissible. I say nothing against your +friend, Mr. Thomson: I know nothing against him; and if I did--mark +this, Mr. David!--it would be my duty to lay hands on him. Now I put it +to you: is it wise to meet? He may have matters to his charge. He may +not have told you all. His name may not be even Thomson!” cries the +lawyer, twinkling; “for some of these fellows will pick up names by the +roadside as another would gather haws.” + +“You must be the judge, sir,” said I. + +But it was clear my plan had taken hold upon his fancy, for he kept +musing to himself till we were called to dinner and the company of Mrs. +Rankeillor; and that lady had scarce left us again to ourselves and a +bottle of wine, ere he was back harping on my proposal. When and where +was I to meet my friend Mr. Thomson; was I sure of Mr. T.’s discretion; +supposing we could catch the old fox tripping, would I consent to such +and such a term of an agreement--these and the like questions he kept +asking at long intervals, while he thoughtfully rolled his wine upon his +tongue. When I had answered all of them, seemingly to his contentment, +he fell into a still deeper muse, even the claret being now forgotten. +Then he got a sheet of paper and a pencil, and set to work writing and +weighing every word; and at last touched a bell and had his clerk into +the chamber. + +“Torrance,” said he, “I must have this written out fair against +to-night; and when it is done, you will be so kind as put on your hat +and be ready to come along with this gentleman and me, for you will +probably be wanted as a witness.” + +“What, sir,” cried I, as soon as the clerk was gone, “are you to venture +it?” + +“Why, so it would appear,” says he, filling his glass. “But let us speak +no more of business. The very sight of Torrance brings in my head a +little droll matter of some years ago, when I had made a tryst with the +poor oaf at the cross of Edinburgh. Each had gone his proper errand; and +when it came four o’clock, Torrance had been taking a glass and did +not know his master, and I, who had forgot my spectacles, was so blind +without them, that I give you my word I did not know my own clerk.” And +thereupon he laughed heartily. + +I said it was an odd chance, and smiled out of politeness; but what held +me all the afternoon in wonder, he kept returning and dwelling on this +story, and telling it again with fresh details and laughter; so that I +began at last to be quite put out of countenance and feel ashamed for my +friend’s folly. + +Towards the time I had appointed with Alan, we set out from the house, +Mr. Rankeillor and I arm in arm, and Torrance following behind with the +deed in his pocket and a covered basket in his hand. All through the +town, the lawyer was bowing right and left, and continually being +button-holed by gentlemen on matters of burgh or private business; and I +could see he was one greatly looked up to in the county. At last we were +clear of the houses, and began to go along the side of the haven and +towards the Hawes Inn and the Ferry pier, the scene of my misfortune. I +could not look upon the place without emotion, recalling how many that +had been there with me that day were now no more: Ransome taken, I could +hope, from the evil to come; Shuan passed where I dared not follow him; +and the poor souls that had gone down with the brig in her last plunge. +All these, and the brig herself, I had outlived; and come through these +hardships and fearful perils without scath. My only thought should have +been of gratitude; and yet I could not behold the place without sorrow +for others and a chill of recollected fear. + +I was so thinking when, upon a sudden, Mr. Rankeillor cried out, clapped +his hand to his pockets, and began to laugh. + +“Why,” he cries, “if this be not a farcical adventure! After all that I +said, I have forgot my glasses!” + +At that, of course, I understood the purpose of his anecdote, and knew +that if he had left his spectacles at home, it had been done on purpose, +so that he might have the benefit of Alan’s help without the awkwardness +of recognising him. And indeed it was well thought upon; for now +(suppose things to go the very worst) how could Rankeillor swear to +my friend’s identity, or how be made to bear damaging evidence against +myself? For all that, he had been a long while of finding out his want, +and had spoken to and recognised a good few persons as we came through +the town; and I had little doubt myself that he saw reasonably well. + +As soon as we were past the Hawes (where I recognised the landlord +smoking his pipe in the door, and was amazed to see him look no older) +Mr. Rankeillor changed the order of march, walking behind with Torrance +and sending me forward in the manner of a scout. I went up the hill, +whistling from time to time my Gaelic air; and at length I had the +pleasure to hear it answered and to see Alan rise from behind a bush. He +was somewhat dashed in spirits, having passed a long day alone skulking +in the county, and made but a poor meal in an alehouse near Dundas. But +at the mere sight of my clothes, he began to brighten up; and as soon as +I had told him in what a forward state our matters were and the part I +looked to him to play in what remained, he sprang into a new man. + +“And that is a very good notion of yours,” says he; “and I dare to say +that you could lay your hands upon no better man to put it through than +Alan Breck. It is not a thing (mark ye) that any one could do, but takes +a gentleman of penetration. But it sticks in my head your lawyer-man +will be somewhat wearying to see me,” says Alan. + +Accordingly I cried and waved on Mr. Rankeillor, who came up alone and +was presented to my friend, Mr. Thomson. + +“Mr. Thomson, I am pleased to meet you,” said he. “But I have forgotten +my glasses; and our friend, Mr. David here” (clapping me on the +shoulder), “will tell you that I am little better than blind, and that +you must not be surprised if I pass you by to-morrow.” + +This he said, thinking that Alan would be pleased; but the Highlandman’s +vanity was ready to startle at a less matter than that. + +“Why, sir,” says he, stiffly, “I would say it mattered the less as we +are met here for a particular end, to see justice done to Mr. Balfour; +and by what I can see, not very likely to have much else in common. But +I accept your apology, which was a very proper one to make.” + +“And that is more than I could look for, Mr. Thomson,” said Rankeillor, +heartily. “And now as you and I are the chief actors in this enterprise, +I think we should come into a nice agreement; to which end, I propose +that you should lend me your arm, for (what with the dusk and the want +of my glasses) I am not very clear as to the path; and as for you, Mr. +David, you will find Torrance a pleasant kind of body to speak with. +Only let me remind you, it’s quite needless he should hear more of your +adventures or those of--ahem--Mr. Thomson.” + +Accordingly these two went on ahead in very close talk, and Torrance and +I brought up the rear. + +Night was quite come when we came in view of the house of Shaws. Ten +had been gone some time; it was dark and mild, with a pleasant, rustling +wind in the south-west that covered the sound of our approach; and as we +drew near we saw no glimmer of light in any portion of the building. It +seemed my uncle was already in bed, which was indeed the best thing for +our arrangements. We made our last whispered consultations some fifty +yards away; and then the lawyer and Torrance and I crept quietly up and +crouched down beside the corner of the house; and as soon as we were +in our places, Alan strode to the door without concealment and began to +knock. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +I COME INTO MY KINGDOM + +For some time Alan volleyed upon the door, and his knocking only roused +the echoes of the house and neighbourhood. At last, however, I could +hear the noise of a window gently thrust up, and knew that my uncle +had come to his observatory. By what light there was, he would see Alan +standing, like a dark shadow, on the steps; the three witnesses were +hidden quite out of his view; so that there was nothing to alarm an +honest man in his own house. For all that, he studied his visitor awhile +in silence, and when he spoke his voice had a quaver of misgiving. + +“What’s this?” says he. “This is nae kind of time of night for decent +folk; and I hae nae trokings* wi’ night-hawks. What brings ye here? I +have a blunderbush.” + + * Dealings. + +“Is that yoursel’, Mr. Balfour?” returned Alan, stepping back and +looking up into the darkness. “Have a care of that blunderbuss; they’re +nasty things to burst.” + +“What brings ye here? and whae are ye?” says my uncle, angrily. + +“I have no manner of inclination to rowt out my name to the +country-side,” said Alan; “but what brings me here is another story, +being more of your affair than mine; and if ye’re sure it’s what ye +would like, I’ll set it to a tune and sing it to you.” + +“And what is’t?” asked my uncle. + +“David,” says Alan. + +“What was that?” cried my uncle, in a mighty changed voice. + +“Shall I give ye the rest of the name, then?” said Alan. + +There was a pause; and then, “I’m thinking I’ll better let ye in,” says +my uncle, doubtfully. + +“I dare say that,” said Alan; “but the point is, Would I go? Now I will +tell you what I am thinking. I am thinking that it is here upon this +doorstep that we must confer upon this business; and it shall be here or +nowhere at all whatever; for I would have you to understand that I am as +stiffnecked as yoursel’, and a gentleman of better family.” + +This change of note disconcerted Ebenezer; he was a little while +digesting it, and then says he, “Weel, weel, what must be must,” and +shut the window. But it took him a long time to get down-stairs, and a +still longer to undo the fastenings, repenting (I dare say) and taken +with fresh claps of fear at every second step and every bolt and bar. At +last, however, we heard the creak of the hinges, and it seems my uncle +slipped gingerly out and (seeing that Alan had stepped back a pace or +two) sate him down on the top doorstep with the blunderbuss ready in his +hands. + +“And, now” says he, “mind I have my blunderbush, and if ye take a step +nearer ye’re as good as deid.” + +“And a very civil speech,” says Alan, “to be sure.” + +“Na,” says my uncle, “but this is no a very chanty kind of a proceeding, +and I’m bound to be prepared. And now that we understand each other, +ye’ll can name your business.” + +“Why,” says Alan, “you that are a man of so much understanding, will +doubtless have perceived that I am a Hieland gentleman. My name has nae +business in my story; but the county of my friends is no very far from +the Isle of Mull, of which ye will have heard. It seems there was a +ship lost in those parts; and the next day a gentleman of my family was +seeking wreck-wood for his fire along the sands, when he came upon a lad +that was half drowned. Well, he brought him to; and he and some other +gentleman took and clapped him in an auld, ruined castle, where from +that day to this he has been a great expense to my friends. My friends +are a wee wild-like, and not so particular about the law as some that +I could name; and finding that the lad owned some decent folk, and was +your born nephew, Mr. Balfour, they asked me to give ye a bit call and +confer upon the matter. And I may tell ye at the off-go, unless we can +agree upon some terms, ye are little likely to set eyes upon him. For my +friends,” added Alan, simply, “are no very well off.” + +My uncle cleared his throat. “I’m no very caring,” says he. “He wasnae a +good lad at the best of it, and I’ve nae call to interfere.” + +“Ay, ay,” said Alan, “I see what ye would be at: pretending ye don’t +care, to make the ransom smaller.” + +“Na,” said my uncle, “it’s the mere truth. I take nae manner of interest +in the lad, and I’ll pay nae ransome, and ye can make a kirk and a mill +of him for what I care.” + +“Hoot, sir,” says Alan. “Blood’s thicker than water, in the deil’s name! +Ye cannae desert your brother’s son for the fair shame of it; and if +ye did, and it came to be kennt, ye wouldnae be very popular in your +country-side, or I’m the more deceived.” + +“I’m no just very popular the way it is,” returned Ebenezer; “and I +dinnae see how it would come to be kennt. No by me, onyway; nor yet by +you or your friends. So that’s idle talk, my buckie,” says he. + +“Then it’ll have to be David that tells it,” said Alan. + +“How that?” says my uncle, sharply. + +“Ou, just this way,” says Alan. “My friends would doubtless keep your +nephew as long as there was any likelihood of siller to be made of it, +but if there was nane, I am clearly of opinion they would let him gang +where he pleased, and be damned to him!” + +“Ay, but I’m no very caring about that either,” said my uncle. “I +wouldnae be muckle made up with that.” + +“I was thinking that,” said Alan. + +“And what for why?” asked Ebenezer. + +“Why, Mr. Balfour,” replied Alan, “by all that I could hear, there were +two ways of it: either ye liked David and would pay to get him back; or +else ye had very good reasons for not wanting him, and would pay for us +to keep him. It seems it’s not the first; well then, it’s the second; +and blythe am I to ken it, for it should be a pretty penny in my pocket +and the pockets of my friends.” + +“I dinnae follow ye there,” said my uncle. + +“No?” said Alan. “Well, see here: you dinnae want the lad back; well, +what do ye want done with him, and how much will ye pay?” + +My uncle made no answer, but shifted uneasily on his seat. + +“Come, sir,” cried Alan. “I would have you to ken that I am a gentleman; +I bear a king’s name; I am nae rider to kick my shanks at your hall +door. Either give me an answer in civility, and that out of hand; or by +the top of Glencoe, I will ram three feet of iron through your vitals.” + +“Eh, man,” cried my uncle, scrambling to his feet, “give me a meenit! +What’s like wrong with ye? I’m just a plain man and nae dancing master; +and I’m tryin to be as ceevil as it’s morally possible. As for that wild +talk, it’s fair disrepitable. Vitals, says you! And where would I be +with my blunderbush?” he snarled. + +“Powder and your auld hands are but as the snail to the swallow against +the bright steel in the hands of Alan,” said the other. “Before your +jottering finger could find the trigger, the hilt would dirl on your +breast-bane.” + +“Eh, man, whae’s denying it?” said my uncle. “Pit it as ye please, hae’t +your ain way; I’ll do naething to cross ye. Just tell me what like ye’ll +be wanting, and ye’ll see that we’ll can agree fine.” + +“Troth, sir,” said Alan, “I ask for nothing but plain dealing. In two +words: do ye want the lad killed or kept?” + +“O, sirs!” cried Ebenezer. “O, sirs, me! that’s no kind of language!” + +“Killed or kept!” repeated Alan. + +“O, keepit, keepit!” wailed my uncle. “We’ll have nae bloodshed, if you +please.” + +“Well,” says Alan, “as ye please; that’ll be the dearer.” + +“The dearer?” cries Ebenezer. “Would ye fyle your hands wi’ crime?” + +“Hoot!” said Alan, “they’re baith crime, whatever! And the killing’s +easier, and quicker, and surer. Keeping the lad’ll be a fashious* job, a +fashious, kittle business.” + + * Troublesome. + +“I’ll have him keepit, though,” returned my uncle. “I never had naething +to do with onything morally wrong; and I’m no gaun to begin to pleasure +a wild Hielandman.” + +“Ye’re unco scrupulous,” sneered Alan. + +“I’m a man o’ principle,” said Ebenezer, simply; “and if I have to pay +for it, I’ll have to pay for it. And besides,” says he, “ye forget the +lad’s my brother’s son.” + +“Well, well,” said Alan, “and now about the price. It’s no very easy for +me to set a name upon it; I would first have to ken some small matters. +I would have to ken, for instance, what ye gave Hoseason at the first +off-go?” + +“Hoseason!” cries my uncle, struck aback. “What for?” + +“For kidnapping David,” says Alan. + +“It’s a lee, it’s a black lee!” cried my uncle. “He was never kidnapped. +He leed in his throat that tauld ye that. Kidnapped? He never was!” + +“That’s no fault of mine nor yet of yours,” said Alan; “nor yet of +Hoseason’s, if he’s a man that can be trusted.” + +“What do ye mean?” cried Ebenezer. “Did Hoseason tell ye?” + +“Why, ye donnered auld runt, how else would I ken?” cried Alan. +“Hoseason and me are partners; we gang shares; so ye can see for +yoursel’ what good ye can do leeing. And I must plainly say ye drove a +fool’s bargain when ye let a man like the sailor-man so far forward in +your private matters. But that’s past praying for; and ye must lie on +your bed the way ye made it. And the point in hand is just this: what +did ye pay him?” + +“Has he tauld ye himsel’?” asked my uncle. + +“That’s my concern,” said Alan. + +“Weel,” said my uncle, “I dinnae care what he said, he leed, and the +solemn God’s truth is this, that I gave him twenty pound. But I’ll be +perfec’ly honest with ye: forby that, he was to have the selling of the +lad in Caroliny, whilk would be as muckle mair, but no from my pocket, +ye see.” + +“Thank you, Mr. Thomson. That will do excellently well,” said the +lawyer, stepping forward; and then mighty civilly, “Good-evening, Mr. +Balfour,” said he. + +And, “Good-evening, Uncle Ebenezer,” said I. + +And, “It’s a braw nicht, Mr. Balfour,” added Torrance. + +Never a word said my uncle, neither black nor white; but just sat where +he was on the top door-step and stared upon us like a man turned to +stone. Alan filched away his blunderbuss; and the lawyer, taking him +by the arm, plucked him up from the doorstep, led him into the kitchen, +whither we all followed, and set him down in a chair beside the hearth, +where the fire was out and only a rush-light burning. + +There we all looked upon him for a while, exulting greatly in our +success, but yet with a sort of pity for the man’s shame. + +“Come, come, Mr. Ebenezer,” said the lawyer, “you must not be +down-hearted, for I promise you we shall make easy terms. In the +meanwhile give us the cellar key, and Torrance shall draw us a bottle +of your father’s wine in honour of the event.” Then, turning to me and +taking me by the hand, “Mr. David,” says he, “I wish you all joy in your +good fortune, which I believe to be deserved.” And then to Alan, with +a spice of drollery, “Mr. Thomson, I pay you my compliment; it was +most artfully conducted; but in one point you somewhat outran my +comprehension. Do I understand your name to be James? or Charles? or is +it George, perhaps?” + +“And why should it be any of the three, sir?” quoth Alan, drawing +himself up, like one who smelt an offence. + +“Only, sir, that you mentioned a king’s name,” replied Rankeillor; “and +as there has never yet been a King Thomson, or his fame at least has +never come my way, I judged you must refer to that you had in baptism.” + +This was just the stab that Alan would feel keenest, and I am free to +confess he took it very ill. Not a word would he answer, but stepped off +to the far end of the kitchen, and sat down and sulked; and it was not +till I stepped after him, and gave him my hand, and thanked him by title +as the chief spring of my success, that he began to smile a bit, and was +at last prevailed upon to join our party. + +By that time we had the fire lighted, and a bottle of wine uncorked; a +good supper came out of the basket, to which Torrance and I and Alan +set ourselves down; while the lawyer and my uncle passed into the next +chamber to consult. They stayed there closeted about an hour; at the end +of which period they had come to a good understanding, and my uncle and +I set our hands to the agreement in a formal manner. By the terms +of this, my uncle bound himself to satisfy Rankeillor as to his +intromissions, and to pay me two clear thirds of the yearly income of +Shaws. + +So the beggar in the ballad had come home; and when I lay down that +night on the kitchen chests, I was a man of means and had a name in the +country. Alan and Torrance and Rankeillor slept and snored on their hard +beds; but for me who had lain out under heaven and upon dirt and stones, +so many days and nights, and often with an empty belly, and in fear +of death, this good change in my case unmanned me more than any of the +former evil ones; and I lay till dawn, looking at the fire on the roof +and planning the future. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +GOOD-BYE + +So far as I was concerned myself, I had come to port; but I had still +Alan, to whom I was so much beholden, on my hands; and I felt besides a +heavy charge in the matter of the murder and James of the Glens. On both +these heads I unbosomed to Rankeillor the next morning, walking to and +fro about six of the clock before the house of Shaws, and with nothing +in view but the fields and woods that had been my ancestors’ and were +now mine. Even as I spoke on these grave subjects, my eye would take a +glad bit of a run over the prospect, and my heart jump with pride. + +About my clear duty to my friend, the lawyer had no doubt. I must help +him out of the county at whatever risk; but in the case of James, he was +of a different mind. + +“Mr. Thomson,” says he, “is one thing, Mr. Thomson’s kinsman quite +another. I know little of the facts, but I gather that a great noble +(whom we will call, if you like, the D. of A.)* has some concern and +is even supposed to feel some animosity in the matter. The D. of A. is +doubtless an excellent nobleman; but, Mr. David, timeo qui nocuere deos. +If you interfere to balk his vengeance, you should remember there is +one way to shut your testimony out; and that is to put you in the dock. +There, you would be in the same pickle as Mr. Thomson’s kinsman. You +will object that you are innocent; well, but so is he. And to be tried +for your life before a Highland jury, on a Highland quarrel and with +a Highland Judge upon the bench, would be a brief transition to the +gallows.” + + * The Duke of Argyle. + +Now I had made all these reasonings before and found no very good reply +to them; so I put on all the simplicity I could. “In that case, sir,” + said I, “I would just have to be hanged--would I not?” + +“My dear boy,” cries he, “go in God’s name, and do what you think is +right. It is a poor thought that at my time of life I should be advising +you to choose the safe and shameful; and I take it back with an apology. +Go and do your duty; and be hanged, if you must, like a gentleman. There +are worse things in the world than to be hanged.” + +“Not many, sir,” said I, smiling. + +“Why, yes, sir,” he cried, “very many. And it would be ten times better +for your uncle (to go no farther afield) if he were dangling decently +upon a gibbet.” + +Thereupon he turned into the house (still in a great fervour of mind, +so that I saw I had pleased him heartily) and there he wrote me two +letters, making his comments on them as he wrote. + +“This,” says he, “is to my bankers, the British Linen Company, placing a +credit to your name. Consult Mr. Thomson, he will know of ways; and +you, with this credit, can supply the means. I trust you will be a good +husband of your money; but in the affair of a friend like Mr. Thomson, +I would be even prodigal. Then for his kinsman, there is no better way +than that you should seek the Advocate, tell him your tale, and offer +testimony; whether he may take it or not, is quite another matter, and +will turn on the D. of A. Now, that you may reach the Lord Advocate well +recommended, I give you here a letter to a namesake of your own, the +learned Mr. Balfour of Pilrig, a man whom I esteem. It will look better +that you should be presented by one of your own name; and the laird of +Pilrig is much looked up to in the Faculty and stands well with Lord +Advocate Grant. I would not trouble him, if I were you, with any +particulars; and (do you know?) I think it would be needless to refer to +Mr. Thomson. Form yourself upon the laird, he is a good model; when you +deal with the Advocate, be discreet; and in all these matters, may the +Lord guide you, Mr. David!” + +Thereupon he took his farewell, and set out with Torrance for the Ferry, +while Alan and I turned our faces for the city of Edinburgh. As we went +by the footpath and beside the gateposts and the unfinished lodge, we +kept looking back at the house of my fathers. It stood there, bare and +great and smokeless, like a place not lived in; only in one of the top +windows, there was the peak of a nightcap bobbing up and down and back +and forward, like the head of a rabbit from a burrow. I had little +welcome when I came, and less kindness while I stayed; but at least I +was watched as I went away. + +Alan and I went slowly forward upon our way, having little heart either +to walk or speak. The same thought was uppermost in both, that we were +near the time of our parting; and remembrance of all the bygone days +sate upon us sorely. We talked indeed of what should be done; and it +was resolved that Alan should keep to the county, biding now here, now +there, but coming once in the day to a particular place where I might be +able to communicate with him, either in my own person or by messenger. +In the meanwhile, I was to seek out a lawyer, who was an Appin Stewart, +and a man therefore to be wholly trusted; and it should be his part to +find a ship and to arrange for Alan’s safe embarkation. No sooner was +this business done, than the words seemed to leave us; and though I +would seek to jest with Alan under the name of Mr. Thomson, and he with +me on my new clothes and my estate, you could feel very well that we +were nearer tears than laughter. + +We came the by-way over the hill of Corstorphine; and when we got +near to the place called Rest-and-be-Thankful, and looked down on +Corstorphine bogs and over to the city and the castle on the hill, we +both stopped, for we both knew without a word said that we had come to +where our ways parted. Here he repeated to me once again what had been +agreed upon between us: the address of the lawyer, the daily hour at +which Alan might be found, and the signals that were to be made by any +that came seeking him. Then I gave what money I had (a guinea or two of +Rankeillor’s) so that he should not starve in the meanwhile; and then we +stood a space, and looked over at Edinburgh in silence. + +“Well, good-bye,” said Alan, and held out his left hand. + +“Good-bye,” said I, and gave the hand a little grasp, and went off down +hill. + +Neither one of us looked the other in the face, nor so long as he was in +my view did I take one back glance at the friend I was leaving. But as +I went on my way to the city, I felt so lost and lonesome, that I could +have found it in my heart to sit down by the dyke, and cry and weep like +any baby. + +It was coming near noon when I passed in by the West Kirk and the +Grassmarket into the streets of the capital. The huge height of the +buildings, running up to ten and fifteen storeys, the narrow arched +entries that continually vomited passengers, the wares of the merchants +in their windows, the hubbub and endless stir, the foul smells and the +fine clothes, and a hundred other particulars too small to mention, +struck me into a kind of stupor of surprise, so that I let the crowd +carry me to and fro; and yet all the time what I was thinking of was +Alan at Rest-and-be-Thankful; and all the time (although you would think +I would not choose but be delighted with these braws and novelties) +there was a cold gnawing in my inside like a remorse for something +wrong. + +The hand of Providence brought me in my drifting to the very doors of +the British Linen Company’s bank. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Kidnapped, by Robert Louis Stevenson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KIDNAPPED *** + +***** This file should be named 421-0.txt or 421-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/421/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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L. Stevenson + </title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" /> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Kidnapped, by Robert Louis Stevenson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Kidnapped + +Author: Robert Louis Stevenson + +Release Date: January 16, 2006 [EBook #421] +Last Updated: December 25, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KIDNAPPED *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + KIDNAPPED + </h1> +<h2>By Robert Louis Stevenson</h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> +<h3>Illustrated by Louis Rhead</h3> +<p> + <br /> + </p> + +<p> + <br /> + </p> +<p> + <br /> + </p> +<hr /> +<p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + BEING<br /> MEMOIRS OF THE ADVENTURES OF<br /> DAVID BALFOUR<br /> IN THE + YEAR 1751<br /> HOW HE WAS KIDNAPPED AND CAST AWAY; HIS SUFFERINGS IN<br /> + A DESERT ISLE; HIS JOURNEY IN THE WILD HIGHLANDS;<br /> HIS ACQUAINTANCE + WITH ALAN BRECK STEWART<br /> AND OTHER NOTORIOUS HIGHLAND JACOBITES;<br /> + WITH ALL THAT HE SUFFERED AT THE<br /> HANDS OF HIS UNCLE, EBENEZER<br /> + BALFOUR OF SHAWS, FALSELY<br /> SO CALLED<br /><br /> WRITTEN BY HIMSELF AND + NOW SET FORTH BY<br /> ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON<br /> WITH A PREFACE BY MRS. + STEVENSON<br /> + </h3> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0010m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0010m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0010.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0011m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0011m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0011.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0013m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0013m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0013.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE TO THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> DEDICATION </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0003"> + CHAPTER III </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0007"> + CHAPTER VII </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0011"> + CHAPTER XI </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0016"> + CHAPTER XVI </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0021"> + CHAPTER XXI </a> <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + <br /><br /><a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a> <br /><br /><a + href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a> + </td> + <td> + I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS <br /><br /> I COME TO + MY JOURNEY’S END <br /><br /> I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE <br /><br /> + I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS <br /><br /> I GO TO THE + QUEEN’S FERRY <br /><br /> WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN’S FERRY <br /><br /> I + GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG “COVENANT” OF DYSART <br /><br /> THE ROUND-HOUSE + <br /><br /> THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD <br /><br /> THE SIEGE OF THE + ROUND-HOUSE <br /><br /> THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER <br /><br /> I HEAR OF + THE “RED FOX” <br /><br /> THE LOSS OF THE BRIG <br /><br /> THE ISLET + <br /><br /> THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL + <br /><br /> THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN <br /><br /> + THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX <br /><br /> TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF + LETTERMORE <br /><br /> THE HOUSE OF FEAR <br /><br /> THE FLIGHT IN THE + HEATHER: THE ROCKS <br /><br /> THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF + CORRYNAKIEGH <br /><br /> THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR <br /><br /> + CLUNY’S CAGE <br /><br /> THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER <br /><br /> THE + QUARREL IN BALQUHIDDER <br /><br /> END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH + <br /><br /> I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR <br /><br /> I GO IN QUEST OF MY + INHERITANCE <br /><br /> I COME INTO MY KINGDOM <br /><br /> GOOD-BYE + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0015m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0015m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0015.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0016m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0016m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0016.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PREFACE TO THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION + </h2> + <p> + While my husband and Mr. Henley were engaged in writing plays in + Bournemouth they made a number of titles, hoping to use them in the + future. Dramatic composition was not what my husband preferred, but the + torrent of Mr. Henley’s enthusiasm swept him off his feet. However, after + several plays had been finished, and his health seriously impaired by his + endeavours to keep up with Mr. Henley, play writing was abandoned forever, + and my husband returned to his legitimate vocation. Having added one of + the titles, The Hanging Judge, to the list of projected plays, now thrown + aside, and emboldened by my husband’s offer to give me any help needed, I + concluded to try and write it myself. + </p> + <p> + As I wanted a trial scene in the Old Bailey, I chose the period of 1700 + for my purpose; but being shamefully ignorant of my subject, and my + husband confessing to little more knowledge than I possessed, a London + bookseller was commissioned to send us everything he could procure bearing + on Old Bailey trials. A great package came in response to our order, and + very soon we were both absorbed, not so much in the trials as in following + the brilliant career of a Mr. Garrow, who appeared as counsel in many of + the cases. We sent for more books, and yet more, still intent on Mr. + Garrow, whose subtle cross-examination of witnesses and masterly, if + sometimes startling, methods of arriving at the truth seemed more + thrilling to us than any novel. + </p> + <p> + Occasionally other trials than those of the Old Bailey would be included + in the package of books we received from London; among these my husband + found and read with avidity:— + </p> + <h4> + THE,<br /> TRIAL<br /> OF<br /> JAMES STEWART<br /> in Aucharn in Duror of + Appin<br /> FOR THE<br /> Murder of COLIN CAMPBELL of Glenure, Efq;<br /> + Factor for His Majefty on the forfeited<br /> Estate of Ardfhiel. + </h4> + <p> + My husband was always interested in this period of his country’s history, + and had already the intention of writing a story that should turn on the + Appin murder. The tale was to be of a boy, David Balfour, supposed to + belong to my husband’s own family, who should travel in Scotland as though + it were a foreign country, meeting with various adventures and + misadventures by the way. From the trial of James Stewart my husband + gleaned much valuable material for his novel, the most important being the + character of Alan Breck. Aside from having described him as “smallish in + stature,” my husband seems to have taken Alan Breck’s personal appearance, + even to his clothing, from the book. + </p> + <p> + A letter from James Stewart to Mr. John Macfarlane, introduced as evidence + in the trial, says: “There is one Alan Stewart, a distant friend of the + late Ardshiel’s, who is in the French service, and came over in March + last, as he said to some, in order to settle at home; to others, that he + was to go soon back; and was, as I hear, the day that the murder was + committed, seen not far from the place where it happened, and is not now + to be seen; by which it is believed he was the actor. He is a desperate + foolish fellow; and if he is guilty, came to the country for that very + purpose. He is a tall, pock-pitted lad, very black hair, and wore a blue + coat and metal buttons, an old red vest, and breeches of the same colour.” + A second witness testified to having seen him wearing “a blue coat with + silver buttons, a red waistcoat, black shag breeches, tartan hose, and a + feathered hat, with a big coat, dun coloured,” a costume referred to by + one of the counsel as “French cloathes which were remarkable.” + </p> + <p> + There are many incidents given in the trial that point to Alan’s fiery + spirit and Highland quickness to take offence. One witness “declared also + That the said Alan Breck threatened that he would challenge Ballieveolan + and his sons to fight because of his removing the declarant last year from + Glenduror.” On another page: “Duncan Campbell, change-keeper at Annat, + aged thirty-five years, married, witness cited, sworn, purged and examined + ut supra, depones, That, in the month of April last, the deponent met with + Alan Breck Stewart, with whom he was not acquainted, and John Stewart, in + Auchnacoan, in the house of the walk miller of Auchofragan, and went on + with them to the house: Alan Breck Stewart said, that he hated all the + name of Campbell; and the deponent said, he had no reason for doing so: + But Alan said, he had very good reason for it: that thereafter they left + that house; and, after drinking a dram at another house, came to the + deponent’s house, where they went in, and drunk some drams, and Alan Breck + renewed the former Conversation; and the deponent, making the same answer, + Alan said, that, if the deponent had any respect for his friends, he would + tell them, that if they offered to turn out the possessors of Ardshiel’s + estate, he would make black cocks of them, before they entered into + possession by which the deponent understood shooting them, it being a + common phrase in the country.” + </p> + <p> + Some time after the publication of Kidnapped we stopped for a short while + in the Appin country, where we were surprised and interested to discover + that the feeling concerning the murder of Glenure (the “Red Fox,” also + called “Colin Roy”) was almost as keen as though the tragedy had taken + place the day before. For several years my husband received letters of + expostulation or commendation from members of the Campbell and Stewart + clans. I have in my possession a paper, yellow with age, that was sent + soon after the novel appeared, containing “The Pedigree of the Family of + Appine,” wherein it is said that “Alan 3rd Baron of Appine was not killed + at Flowdoun, tho there, but lived to a great old age. He married Cameron + Daughter to Ewen Cameron of Lochiel.” Following this is a paragraph + stating that “John Stewart 1st of Ardsheall of his descendants Alan Breck + had better be omitted. Duncan Baan Stewart in Achindarroch his father was + a Bastard.” + </p> + <p> + One day, while my husband was busily at work, I sat beside him reading an + old cookery book called The Compleat Housewife: or Accomplish’d + Gentlewoman’s Companion. In the midst of receipts for “Rabbits, and + Chickens mumbled, Pickled Samphire, Skirret Pye, Baked Tansy,” and other + forgotten delicacies, there were directions for the preparation of several + lotions for the preservation of beauty. One of these was so charming that + I interrupted my husband to read it aloud. “Just what I wanted!” he + exclaimed; and the receipt for the “Lily of the Valley Water” was + instantly incorporated into Kidnapped. + </p> + <p> + F. V. DE G. S. <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DEDICATION + </h2> + <h4> + MY DEAR CHARLES BAXTER: + </h4> + <p> + If you ever read this tale, you will likely ask yourself more questions + than I should care to answer: as for instance how the Appin murder has + come to fall in the year 1751, how the Torran rocks have crept so near to + Earraid, or why the printed trial is silent as to all that touches David + Balfour. These are nuts beyond my ability to crack. But if you tried me on + the point of Alan’s guilt or innocence, I think I could defend the reading + of the text. To this day you will find the tradition of Appin clear in + Alan’s favour. If you inquire, you may even hear that the descendants of + “the other man” who fired the shot are in the country to this day. But + that other man’s name, inquire as you please, you shall not hear; for the + Highlander values a secret for itself and for the congenial exercise of + keeping it. I might go on for long to justify one point and own another + indefensible; it is more honest to confess at once how little I am touched + by the desire of accuracy. This is no furniture for the scholar’s library, + but a book for the winter evening school-room when the tasks are over and + the hour for bed draws near; and honest Alan, who was a grim old + fire-eater in his day has in this new avatar no more desperate purpose + than to steal some young gentleman’s attention from his Ovid, carry him + awhile into the Highlands and the last century, and pack him to bed with + some engaging images to mingle with his dreams. + </p> + <p> + As for you, my dear Charles, I do not even ask you to like this tale. But + perhaps when he is older, your son will; he may then be pleased to find + his father’s name on the fly-leaf; and in the meanwhile it pleases me to + set it there, in memory of many days that were happy and some (now perhaps + as pleasant to remember) that were sad. If it is strange for me to look + back from a distance both in time and space on these bygone adventures of + our youth, it must be stranger for you who tread the same streets—who + may to-morrow open the door of the old Speculative, where we begin to rank + with Scott and Robert Emmet and the beloved and inglorious Macbean—or + may pass the corner of the close where that great society, the L. J. R., + held its meetings and drank its beer, sitting in the seats of Burns and + his companions. I think I see you, moving there by plain daylight, + beholding with your natural eyes those places that have now become for + your companion a part of the scenery of dreams. How, in the intervals of + present business, the past must echo in your memory! Let it not echo often + without some kind thoughts of your friend, + </p> + <p> + R.L.S. SKERRYVORE, BOURNEMOUTH. <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0021m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0021m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0021.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9021m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9021m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9021.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + + <p> + will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in + the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the + last time out of the door of my father’s house. The sun began to shine + upon the summit of the hills as I went down the road; and by the time I + had come as far as the manse, the blackbirds were whistling in the garden + lilacs, and the mist that hung around the valley in the time of the dawn + was beginning to arise and die away. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Campbell, the minister of Essendean, was waiting for me by the garden + gate, good man! He asked me if I had breakfasted; and hearing that I + lacked for nothing, he took my hand in both of his and clapped it kindly + under his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Davie, lad,” said he, “I will go with you as far as the ford, to + set you on the way.” And we began to walk forward in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Are ye sorry to leave Essendean?” said he, after awhile. + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir,” said I, “if I knew where I was going, or what was likely to + become of me, I would tell you candidly. Essendean is a good place indeed, + and I have been very happy there; but then I have never been anywhere + else. My father and mother, since they are both dead, I shall be no nearer + to in Essendean than in the Kingdom of Hungary, and, to speak truth, if I + thought I had a chance to better myself where I was going I would go with + a good will.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay?” said Mr. Campbell. “Very well, Davie. Then it behoves me to tell + your fortune; or so far as I may. When your mother was gone, and your + father (the worthy, Christian man) began to sicken for his end, he gave me + in charge a certain letter, which he said was your inheritance. ‘So soon,’ + says he, ‘as I am gone, and the house is redd up and the gear disposed of’ + (all which, Davie, hath been done), ‘give my boy this letter into his + hand, and start him off to the house of Shaws, not far from Cramond. That + is the place I came from,’ he said, ‘and it’s where it befits that my boy + should return. He is a steady lad,’ your father said, ‘and a canny goer; + and I doubt not he will come safe, and be well lived where he goes.’” + </p> + <p> + “The house of Shaws!” I cried. “What had my poor father to do with the + house of Shaws?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said Mr. Campbell, “who can tell that for a surety? But the name of + that family, Davie, boy, is the name you bear—Balfours of Shaws: an + ancient, honest, reputable house, peradventure in these latter days + decayed. Your father, too, was a man of learning as befitted his position; + no man more plausibly conducted school; nor had he the manner or the + speech of a common dominie; but (as ye will yourself remember) I took aye + a pleasure to have him to the manse to meet the gentry; and those of my + own house, Campbell of Kilrennet, Campbell of Dunswire, Campbell of Minch, + and others, all well-kenned gentlemen, had pleasure in his society. + Lastly, to put all the elements of this affair before you, here is the + testamentary letter itself, superscrived by the own hand of our departed + brother.” + </p> + <p> + He gave me the letter, which was addressed in these words: “To the hands + of Ebenezer Balfour, Esquire, of Shaws, in his house of Shaws, these will + be delivered by my son, David Balfour.” My heart was beating hard at this + great prospect now suddenly opening before a lad of seventeen years of + age, the son of a poor country dominie in the Forest of Ettrick. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Campbell,” I stammered, “and if you were in my shoes, would you go?” + </p> + <p> + “Of a surety,” said the minister, “that would I, and without pause. A + pretty lad like you should get to Cramond (which is near in by Edinburgh) + in two days of walk. If the worst came to the worst, and your high + relations (as I cannot but suppose them to be somewhat of your blood) + should put you to the door, ye can but walk the two days back again and + risp at the manse door. But I would rather hope that ye shall be well + received, as your poor father forecast for you, and for anything that I + ken come to be a great man in time. And here, Davie, laddie,” he resumed, + “it lies near upon my conscience to improve this parting, and set you on + the right guard against the dangers of the world.” + </p> + <p> + Here he cast about for a comfortable seat, lighted on a big boulder under + a birch by the trackside, sate down upon it with a very long, serious + upper lip, and the sun now shining in upon us between two peaks, put his + pocket-handkerchief over his cocked hat to shelter him. There, then, with + uplifted forefinger, he first put me on my guard against a considerable + number of heresies, to which I had no temptation, and urged upon me to be + instant in my prayers and reading of the Bible. That done, he drew a + picture of the great house that I was bound to, and how I should conduct + myself with its inhabitants. + </p> + <p> + “Be soople, Davie, in things immaterial,” said he. “Bear ye this in mind, + that, though gentle born, ye have had a country rearing. Dinnae shame us, + Davie, dinnae shame us! In yon great, muckle house, with all these + domestics, upper and under, show yourself as nice, as circumspect, as + quick at the conception, and as slow of speech as any. As for the laird—remember + he’s the laird; I say no more: honour to whom honour. It’s a pleasure to + obey a laird; or should be, to the young.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said I, “it may be; and I’ll promise you I’ll try to make it + so.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, very well said,” replied Mr. Campbell, heartily. “And now to come to + the material, or (to make a quibble) to the immaterial. I have here a + little packet which contains four things.” He tugged it, as he spoke, and + with some great difficulty, from the skirt pocket of his coat. “Of these + four things, the first is your legal due: the little pickle money for your + father’s books and plenishing, which I have bought (as I have explained + from the first) in the design of re-selling at a profit to the incoming + dominie. The other three are gifties that Mrs. Campbell and myself would + be blithe of your acceptance. The first, which is round, will likely + please ye best at the first off-go; but, O Davie, laddie, it’s but a drop + of water in the sea; it’ll help you but a step, and vanish like the + morning. The second, which is flat and square and written upon, will stand + by you through life, like a good staff for the road, and a good pillow to + your head in sickness. And as for the last, which is cubical, that’ll see + you, it’s my prayerful wish, into a better land.” + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0025m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0025m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0025.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + With that he got upon his feet, took off his hat, and prayed a little + while aloud, and in affecting terms, for a young man setting out into the + world; then suddenly took me in his arms and embraced me very hard; then + held me at arm’s length, looking at me with his face all working with + sorrow; and then whipped about, and crying good-bye to me, set off + backward by the way that we had come at a sort of jogging run. It might + have been laughable to another; but I was in no mind to laugh. I watched + him as long as he was in sight; and he never stopped hurrying, nor once + looked back. Then it came in upon my mind that this was all his sorrow at + my departure; and my conscience smote me hard and fast, because I, for my + part, was overjoyed to get away out of that quiet country-side, and go to + a great, busy house, among rich and respected gentlefolk of my own name + and blood. + </p> + <p> + “Davie, Davie,” I thought, “was ever seen such black ingratitude? Can you + forget old favours and old friends at the mere whistle of a name? Fie, + fie; think shame.” + </p> + <p> + And I sat down on the boulder the good man had just left, and opened the + parcel to see the nature of my gifts. That which he had called cubical, I + had never had much doubt of; sure enough it was a little Bible, to carry + in a plaid-neuk. That which he had called round, I found to be a shilling + piece; and the third, which was to help me so wonderfully both in health + and sickness all the days of my life, was a little piece of coarse yellow + paper, written upon thus in red ink: + </p> + <p> + “TO MAKE LILLY OF THE VALLEY WATER.—Take the flowers of lilly of the + valley and distil them in sack, and drink a spooneful or two as there is + occasion. It restores speech to those that have the dumb palsey. It is + good against the Gout; it comforts the heart and strengthens the memory; + and the flowers, put into a Glasse, close stopt, and set into ane hill of + ants for a month, then take it out, and you will find a liquor which comes + from the flowers, which keep in a vial; it is good, ill or well, and + whether man or woman.” + </p> + <p> + And then, in the minister’s own hand, was added: + </p> + <p> + “Likewise for sprains, rub it in; and for the cholic, a great spooneful in + the hour.” + </p> + <p> + To be sure, I laughed over this; but it was rather tremulous laughter; and + I was glad to get my bundle on my staff’s end and set out over the ford + and up the hill upon the farther side; till, just as I came on the green + drove-road running wide through the heather, I took my last look of Kirk + Essendean, the trees about the manse, and the big rowans in the kirkyard + where my father and my mother lay. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0028m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0028m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0028.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + I COME TO MY JOURNEY’S END + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9028m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9028m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9028.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + n the forenoon of the second day, coming to the top of a hill, I saw all + the country fall away before me down to the sea; and in the midst of this + descent, on a long ridge, the city of Edinburgh smoking like a kiln. There + was a flag upon the castle, and ships moving or lying anchored in the + firth; both of which, for as far away as they were, I could distinguish + clearly; and both brought my country heart into my mouth. + </p> + <p> + Presently after, I came by a house where a shepherd lived, and got a rough + direction for the neighbourhood of Cramond; and so, from one to another, + worked my way to the westward of the capital by Colinton, till I came out + upon the Glasgow road. And there, to my great pleasure and wonder, I + beheld a regiment marching to the fifes, every foot in time; an old + red-faced general on a grey horse at the one end, and at the other the + company of Grenadiers, with their Pope’s-hats. The pride of life seemed to + mount into my brain at the sight of the red coats and the hearing of that + merry music. + </p> + <p> + A little farther on, and I was told I was in Cramond parish, and began to + substitute in my inquiries the name of the house of Shaws. It was a word + that seemed to surprise those of whom I sought my way. At first I thought + the plainness of my appearance, in my country habit, and that all dusty + from the road, consorted ill with the greatness of the place to which I + was bound. But after two, or maybe three, had given me the same look and + the same answer, I began to take it in my head there was something strange + about the Shaws itself. + </p> + <p> + The better to set this fear at rest, I changed the form of my inquiries; + and spying an honest fellow coming along a lane on the shaft of his cart, + I asked him if he had ever heard tell of a house they called the house of + Shaws. + </p> + <p> + He stopped his cart and looked at me, like the others. + </p> + <p> + “Ay” said he. “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a great house?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless,” says he. “The house is a big, muckle house.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said I, “but the folk that are in it?” + </p> + <p> + “Folk?” cried he. “Are ye daft? There’s nae folk there—to call + folk.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” say I; “not Mr. Ebenezer?” + </p> + <p> + “Ou, ay” says the man; “there’s the laird, to be sure, if it’s him you’re + wanting. What’ll like be your business, mannie?” + </p> + <p> + “I was led to think that I would get a situation,” I said, looking as + modest as I could. + </p> + <p> + “What?” cries the carter, in so sharp a note that his very horse started; + and then, “Well, mannie,” he added, “it’s nane of my affairs; but ye seem + a decent-spoken lad; and if ye’ll take a word from me, ye’ll keep clear of + the Shaws.” + </p> + <p> + The next person I came across was a dapper little man in a beautiful white + wig, whom I saw to be a barber on his rounds; and knowing well that + barbers were great gossips, I asked him plainly what sort of a man was Mr. + Balfour of the Shaws. + </p> + <p> + “Hoot, hoot, hoot,” said the barber, “nae kind of a man, nae kind of a man + at all;” and began to ask me very shrewdly what my business was; but I was + more than a match for him at that, and he went on to his next customer no + wiser than he came. + </p> + <p> + I cannot well describe the blow this dealt to my illusions. The more + indistinct the accusations were, the less I liked them, for they left the + wider field to fancy. What kind of a great house was this, that all the + parish should start and stare to be asked the way to it? or what sort of a + gentleman, that his ill-fame should be thus current on the wayside? If an + hour’s walking would have brought me back to Essendean, I had left my + adventure then and there, and returned to Mr. Campbell’s. But when I had + come so far a way already, mere shame would not suffer me to desist till I + had put the matter to the touch of proof; I was bound, out of mere + self-respect, to carry it through; and little as I liked the sound of what + I heard, and slow as I began to travel, I still kept asking my way and + still kept advancing. + </p> + <p> + It was drawing on to sundown when I met a stout, dark, sour-looking woman + coming trudging down a hill; and she, when I had put my usual question, + turned sharp about, accompanied me back to the summit she had just left, + and pointed to a great bulk of building standing very bare upon a green in + the bottom of the next valley. The country was pleasant round about, + running in low hills, pleasantly watered and wooded, and the crops, to my + eyes, wonderfully good; but the house itself appeared to be a kind of + ruin; no road led up to it; no smoke arose from any of the chimneys; nor + was there any semblance of a garden. My heart sank. “That!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + The woman’s face lit up with a malignant anger. “That is the house of + Shaws!” she cried. “Blood built it; blood stopped the building of it; + blood shall bring it down. See here!” she cried again—“I spit upon + the ground, and crack my thumb at it! Black be its fall! If ye see the + laird, tell him what ye hear; tell him this makes the twelve hunner and + nineteen time that Jennet Clouston has called down the curse on him and + his house, byre and stable, man, guest, and master, wife, miss, or bairn—black, + black be their fall!” + </p> + <p> + And the woman, whose voice had risen to a kind of eldritch sing-song, + turned with a skip, and was gone. I stood where she left me, with my hair + on end. In those days folk still believed in witches and trembled at a + curse; and this one, falling so pat, like a wayside omen, to arrest me ere + I carried out my purpose, took the pith out of my legs. + </p> + <p> + I sat me down and stared at the house of Shaws. The more I looked, the + pleasanter that country-side appeared; being all set with hawthorn bushes + full of flowers; the fields dotted with sheep; a fine flight of rooks in + the sky; and every sign of a kind soil and climate; and yet the barrack in + the midst of it went sore against my fancy. + </p> + <p> + Country folk went by from the fields as I sat there on the side of the + ditch, but I lacked the spirit to give them a good-e’en. At last the sun + went down, and then, right up against the yellow sky, I saw a scroll of + smoke go mounting, not much thicker, as it seemed to me, than the smoke of + a candle; but still there it was, and meant a fire, and warmth, and + cookery, and some living inhabitant that must have lit it; and this + comforted my heart. + </p> + <p> + So I set forward by a little faint track in the grass that led in my + direction. It was very faint indeed to be the only way to a place of + habitation; yet I saw no other. Presently it brought me to stone uprights, + with an unroofed lodge beside them, and coats of arms upon the top. A main + entrance it was plainly meant to be, but never finished; instead of gates + of wrought iron, a pair of hurdles were tied across with a straw rope; and + as there were no park walls, nor any sign of avenue, the track that I was + following passed on the right hand of the pillars, and went wandering on + toward the house. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0033m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0033m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0033.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + The nearer I got to that, the drearier it appeared. It seemed like the one + wing of a house that had never been finished. What should have been the + inner end stood open on the upper floors, and showed against the sky with + steps and stairs of uncompleted masonry. Many of the windows were + unglazed, and bats flew in and out like doves out of a dove-cote. + </p> + <p> + The night had begun to fall as I got close; and in three of the lower + windows, which were very high up and narrow, and well barred, the changing + light of a little fire began to glimmer. Was this the palace I had been + coming to? Was it within these walls that I was to seek new friends and + begin great fortunes? Why, in my father’s house on Essen-Waterside, the + fire and the bright lights would show a mile away, and the door open to a + beggar’s knock! + </p> + <p> + I came forward cautiously, and giving ear as I came, heard some one + rattling with dishes, and a little dry, eager cough that came in fits; but + there was no sound of speech, and not a dog barked. + </p> + <p> + The door, as well as I could see it in the dim light, was a great piece of + wood all studded with nails; and I lifted my hand with a faint heart under + my jacket, and knocked once. Then I stood and waited. The house had fallen + into a dead silence; a whole minute passed away, and nothing stirred but + the bats overhead. I knocked again, and hearkened again. By this time my + ears had grown so accustomed to the quiet, that I could hear the ticking + of the clock inside as it slowly counted out the seconds; but whoever was + in that house kept deadly still, and must have held his breath. + </p> + <p> + I was in two minds whether to run away; but anger got the upper hand, and + I began instead to rain kicks and buffets on the door, and to shout out + aloud for Mr. Balfour. I was in full career, when I heard the cough right + overhead, and jumping back and looking up, beheld a man’s head in a tall + nightcap, and the bell mouth of a blunderbuss, at one of the first-storey + windows. + </p> + <p> + “It’s loaded,” said a voice. + </p> + <p> + “I have come here with a letter,” I said, “to Mr. Ebenezer Balfour of + Shaws. Is he here?” + </p> + <p> + “From whom is it?” asked the man with the blunderbuss. + </p> + <p> + “That is neither here nor there,” said I, for I was growing very wroth. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” was the reply, “ye can put it down upon the doorstep, and be off + with ye.” + </p> + <p> + “I will do no such thing,” I cried. “I will deliver it into Mr. Balfour’s + hands, as it was meant I should. It is a letter of introduction.” + </p> + <p> + “A what?” cried the voice, sharply. + </p> + <p> + I repeated what I had said. + </p> + <p> + “Who are ye, yourself?” was the next question, after a considerable pause. + </p> + <p> + “I am not ashamed of my name,” said I. “They call me David Balfour.” + </p> + <p> + At that, I made sure the man started, for I heard the blunderbuss rattle + on the window-sill; and it was after quite a long pause, and with a + curious change of voice, that the next question followed: + </p> + <p> + “Is your father dead?” + </p> + <p> + I was so much surprised at this, that I could find no voice to answer, but + stood staring. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” the man resumed, “he’ll be dead, no doubt; and that’ll be what + brings ye chapping to my door.” Another pause, and then defiantly, “Well, + man,” he said, “I’ll let ye in;” and he disappeared from the window. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0036m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0036m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0036.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9036m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9036m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9036.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + resently there came a great rattling of chains and bolts, and the door + was cautiously opened and shut to again behind me as soon as I had passed. + </p> + <p> + “Go into the kitchen and touch naething,” said the voice; and while the + person of the house set himself to replacing the defences of the door, I + groped my way forward and entered the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + The fire had burned up fairly bright, and showed me the barest room I + think I ever put my eyes on. Half-a-dozen dishes stood upon the shelves; + the table was laid for supper with a bowl of porridge, a horn spoon, and a + cup of small beer. Besides what I have named, there was not another thing + in that great, stone-vaulted, empty chamber but lockfast chests arranged + along the wall and a corner cupboard with a padlock. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the last chain was up, the man rejoined me. He was a mean, + stooping, narrow-shouldered, clay-faced creature; and his age might have + been anything between fifty and seventy. His nightcap was of flannel, and + so was the nightgown that he wore, instead of coat and waistcoat, over his + ragged shirt. He was long unshaved; but what most distressed and even + daunted me, he would neither take his eyes away from me nor look me fairly + in the face. What he was, whether by trade or birth, was more than I could + fathom; but he seemed most like an old, unprofitable serving-man, who + should have been left in charge of that big house upon board wages. + </p> + <p> + “Are ye sharp-set?” he asked, glancing at about the level of my knee. “Ye + can eat that drop parritch?” + </p> + <p> + I said I feared it was his own supper. + </p> + <p> + “O,” said he, “I can do fine wanting it. I’ll take the ale, though, for it + slockens (moistens) my cough.” He drank the cup about half out, still + keeping an eye upon me as he drank; and then suddenly held out his hand. + “Let’s see the letter,” said he. + </p> + <p> + I told him the letter was for Mr. Balfour; not for him. + </p> + <p> + “And who do ye think I am?” says he. “Give me Alexander’s letter.” + </p> + <p> + “You know my father’s name?” + </p> + <p> + “It would be strange if I didnae,” he returned, “for he was my born + brother; and little as ye seem to like either me or my house, or my good + parritch, I’m your born uncle, Davie, my man, and you my born nephew. So + give us the letter, and sit down and fill your kyte.” + </p> + <p> + If I had been some years younger, what with shame, weariness, and + disappointment, I believe I had burst into tears. As it was, I could find + no words, neither black nor white, but handed him the letter, and sat down + to the porridge with as little appetite for meat as ever a young man had. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, my uncle, stooping over the fire, turned the letter over and + over in his hands. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0039m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0039m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0039.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + “Do ye ken what’s in it?” he asked, suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “You see for yourself, sir,” said I, “that the seal has not been broken.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said he, “but what brought you here?” + </p> + <p> + “To give the letter,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “No,” says he, cunningly, “but ye’ll have had some hopes, nae doubt?” + </p> + <p> + “I confess, sir,” said I, “when I was told that I had kinsfolk well-to-do, + I did indeed indulge the hope that they might help me in my life. But I am + no beggar; I look for no favours at your hands, and I want none that are + not freely given. For as poor as I appear, I have friends of my own that + will be blithe to help me.” + </p> + <p> + “Hoot-toot!” said Uncle Ebenezer, “dinnae fly up in the snuff at me. We’ll + agree fine yet. And, Davie, my man, if you’re done with that bit parritch, + I could just take a sup of it myself. Ay,” he continued, as soon as he had + ousted me from the stool and spoon, “they’re fine, halesome food—they’re + grand food, parritch.” He murmured a little grace to himself and fell to. + “Your father was very fond of his meat, I mind; he was a hearty, if not a + great eater; but as for me, I could never do mair than pyke at food.” He + took a pull at the small beer, which probably reminded him of hospitable + duties, for his next speech ran thus: “If ye’re dry ye’ll find water + behind the door.” + </p> + <p> + To this I returned no answer, standing stiffly on my two feet, and looking + down upon my uncle with a mighty angry heart. He, on his part, continued + to eat like a man under some pressure of time, and to throw out little + darting glances now at my shoes and now at my home-spun stockings. Once + only, when he had ventured to look a little higher, our eyes met; and no + thief taken with a hand in a man’s pocket could have shown more lively + signals of distress. This set me in a muse, whether his timidity arose + from too long a disuse of any human company; and whether perhaps, upon a + little trial, it might pass off, and my uncle change into an altogether + different man. From this I was awakened by his sharp voice. + </p> + <p> + “Your father’s been long dead?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Three weeks, sir,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “He was a secret man, Alexander—a secret, silent man,” he continued. + “He never said muckle when he was young. He’ll never have spoken muckle of + me?” + </p> + <p> + “I never knew, sir, till you told it me yourself, that he had any + brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, dear me!” said Ebenezer. “Nor yet of Shaws, I dare say?” + </p> + <p> + “Not so much as the name, sir,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “To think o’ that!” said he. “A strange nature of a man!” For all that, he + seemed singularly satisfied, but whether with himself, or me, or with this + conduct of my father’s, was more than I could read. Certainly, however, he + seemed to be outgrowing that distaste, or ill-will, that he had conceived + at first against my person; for presently he jumped up, came across the + room behind me, and hit me a smack upon the shoulder. “We’ll agree fine + yet!” he cried. “I’m just as glad I let you in. And now come awa’ to your + bed.” + </p> + <p> + To my surprise, he lit no lamp or candle, but set forth into the dark + passage, groped his way, breathing deeply, up a flight of steps, and + paused before a door, which he unlocked. I was close upon his heels, + having stumbled after him as best I might; and then he bade me go in, for + that was my chamber. I did as he bid, but paused after a few steps, and + begged a light to go to bed with. + </p> + <p> + “Hoot-toot!” said Uncle Ebenezer, “there’s a fine moon.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither moon nor star, sir, and pit-mirk,” * said I. “I cannae see the + bed.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Dark as the pit. +</pre> + <p> + “Hoot-toot, hoot-toot!” said he. “Lights in a house is a thing I dinnae + agree with. I’m unco feared of fires. Good-night to ye, Davie, my man.” + And before I had time to add a further protest, he pulled the door to, and + I heard him lock me in from the outside. + </p> + <p> + I did not know whether to laugh or cry. The room was as cold as a well, + and the bed, when I had found my way to it, as damp as a peat-hag; but by + good fortune I had caught up my bundle and my plaid, and rolling myself in + the latter, I lay down upon the floor under lee of the big bedstead, and + fell speedily asleep. + </p> + <p> + With the first peep of day I opened my eyes, to find myself in a great + chamber, hung with stamped leather, furnished with fine embroidered + furniture, and lit by three fair windows. Ten years ago, or perhaps + twenty, it must have been as pleasant a room to lie down or to awake in as + a man could wish; but damp, dirt, disuse, and the mice and spiders had + done their worst since then. Many of the window-panes, besides, were + broken; and indeed this was so common a feature in that house, that I + believe my uncle must at some time have stood a siege from his indignant + neighbours—perhaps with Jennet Clouston at their head. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the sun was shining outside; and being very cold in that + miserable room, I knocked and shouted till my gaoler came and let me out. + He carried me to the back of the house, where was a draw-well, and told me + to “wash my face there, if I wanted;” and when that was done, I made the + best of my own way back to the kitchen, where he had lit the fire and was + making the porridge. The table was laid with two bowls and two horn + spoons, but the same single measure of small beer. Perhaps my eye rested + on this particular with some surprise, and perhaps my uncle observed it; + for he spoke up as if in answer to my thought, asking me if I would like + to drink ale—for so he called it. + </p> + <p> + I told him such was my habit, but not to put himself about. + </p> + <p> + “Na, na,” said he; “I’ll deny you nothing in reason.” + </p> + <p> + He fetched another cup from the shelf; and then, to my great surprise, + instead of drawing more beer, he poured an accurate half from one cup to + the other. There was a kind of nobleness in this that took my breath away; + if my uncle was certainly a miser, he was one of that thorough breed that + goes near to make the vice respectable. + </p> + <p> + When we had made an end of our meal, my uncle Ebenezer unlocked a drawer, + and drew out of it a clay pipe and a lump of tobacco, from which he cut + one fill before he locked it up again. Then he sat down in the sun at one + of the windows and silently smoked. From time to time his eyes came + coasting round to me, and he shot out one of his questions. Once it was, + “And your mother?” and when I had told him that she, too, was dead, “Ay, + she was a bonnie lassie!” Then, after another long pause, “Whae were these + friends o’ yours?” + </p> + <p> + I told him they were different gentlemen of the name of Campbell; though, + indeed, there was only one, and that the minister, that had ever taken the + least note of me; but I began to think my uncle made too light of my + position, and finding myself all alone with him, I did not wish him to + suppose me helpless. + </p> + <p> + He seemed to turn this over in his mind; and then, “Davie, my man,” said + he, “ye’ve come to the right bit when ye came to your uncle Ebenezer. I’ve + a great notion of the family, and I mean to do the right by you; but while + I’m taking a bit think to mysel’ of what’s the best thing to put you to—whether + the law, or the meenistry, or maybe the army, whilk is what boys are + fondest of—I wouldnae like the Balfours to be humbled before a wheen + Hieland Campbells, and I’ll ask you to keep your tongue within your teeth. + Nae letters; nae messages; no kind of word to onybody; or else—there’s + my door.” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Ebenezer,” said I, “I’ve no manner of reason to suppose you mean + anything but well by me. For all that, I would have you to know that I + have a pride of my own. It was by no will of mine that I came seeking you; + and if you show me your door again, I’ll take you at the word.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed grievously put out. “Hoots-toots,” said he, “ca’ cannie, man—ca’ + cannie! Bide a day or two. I’m nae warlock, to find a fortune for you in + the bottom of a parritch bowl; but just you give me a day or two, and say + naething to naebody, and as sure as sure, I’ll do the right by you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said I, “enough said. If you want to help me, there’s no + doubt but I’ll be glad of it, and none but I’ll be grateful.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed to me (too soon, I dare say) that I was getting the upper hand + of my uncle; and I began next to say that I must have the bed and + bedclothes aired and put to sun-dry; for nothing would make me sleep in + such a pickle. + </p> + <p> + “Is this my house or yours?” said he, in his keen voice, and then all of a + sudden broke off. “Na, na,” said he, “I didnae mean that. What’s mine is + yours, Davie, my man, and what’s yours is mine. Blood’s thicker than + water; and there’s naebody but you and me that ought the name.” And then + on he rambled about the family, and its ancient greatness, and his father + that began to enlarge the house, and himself that stopped the building as + a sinful waste; and this put it in my head to give him Jennet Clouston’s + message. + </p> + <p> + “The limmer!” he cried. “Twelve hunner and fifteen—that’s every day + since I had the limmer rowpit!* Dod, David, I’ll have her roasted on red + peats before I’m by with it! A witch—a proclaimed witch! I’ll aff + and see the session clerk.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Sold up. +</pre> + <p> + And with that he opened a chest, and got out a very old and well-preserved + blue coat and waistcoat, and a good enough beaver hat, both without lace. + These he threw on any way, and taking a staff from the cupboard, locked + all up again, and was for setting out, when a thought arrested him. + </p> + <p> + “I cannae leave you by yoursel’ in the house,” said he. “I’ll have to lock + you out.” + </p> + <p> + The blood came to my face. “If you lock me out,” I said, “it’ll be the + last you’ll see of me in friendship.” + </p> + <p> + He turned very pale, and sucked his mouth in. + </p> + <p> + “This is no the way,” he said, looking wickedly at a corner of the floor—“this + is no the way to win my favour, David.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” says I, “with a proper reverence for your age and our common blood, + I do not value your favour at a boddle’s purchase. I was brought up to + have a good conceit of myself; and if you were all the uncle, and all the + family, I had in the world ten times over, I wouldn’t buy your liking at + such prices.” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Ebenezer went and looked out of the window for awhile. I could see + him all trembling and twitching, like a man with palsy. But when he turned + round, he had a smile upon his face. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said he, “we must bear and forbear. I’ll no go; that’s all + that’s to be said of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Ebenezer,” I said, “I can make nothing out of this. You use me like + a thief; you hate to have me in this house; you let me see it, every word + and every minute: it’s not possible that you can like me; and as for me, + I’ve spoken to you as I never thought to speak to any man. Why do you seek + to keep me, then? Let me gang back—let me gang back to the friends I + have, and that like me!” + </p> + <p> + “Na, na; na, na,” he said, very earnestly. “I like you fine; we’ll agree + fine yet; and for the honour of the house I couldnae let you leave the way + ye came. Bide here quiet, there’s a good lad; just you bide here quiet a + bittie, and ye’ll find that we agree.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said I, after I had thought the matter out in silence, “I’ll + stay awhile. It’s more just I should be helped by my own blood than + strangers; and if we don’t agree, I’ll do my best it shall be through no + fault of mine.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0046m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0046m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0046.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9046m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9046m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9046.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + or a day that was begun so ill, the day passed fairly well. We had the + porridge cold again at noon, and hot porridge at night; porridge and small + beer was my uncle’s diet. He spoke but little, and that in the same way as + before, shooting a question at me after a long silence; and when I sought + to lead him to talk about my future, slipped out of it again. In a room + next door to the kitchen, where he suffered me to go, I found a great + number of books, both Latin and English, in which I took great pleasure + all the afternoon. Indeed, the time passed so lightly in this good + company, that I began to be almost reconciled to my residence at Shaws; + and nothing but the sight of my uncle, and his eyes playing hide and seek + with mine, revived the force of my distrust. + </p> + <p> + One thing I discovered, which put me in some doubt. This was an entry on + the fly-leaf of a chap-book (one of Patrick Walker’s) plainly written by + my father’s hand and thus conceived: “To my brother Ebenezer on his fifth + birthday.” Now, what puzzled me was this: That, as my father was of course + the younger brother, he must either have made some strange error, or he + must have written, before he was yet five, an excellent, clear manly hand + of writing. + </p> + <p> + I tried to get this out of my head; but though I took down many + interesting authors, old and new, history, poetry, and story-book, this + notion of my father’s hand of writing stuck to me; and when at length I + went back into the kitchen, and sat down once more to porridge and small + beer, the first thing I said to Uncle Ebenezer was to ask him if my father + had not been very quick at his book. + </p> + <p> + “Alexander? No him!” was the reply. “I was far quicker mysel’; I was a + clever chappie when I was young. Why, I could read as soon as he could.” + </p> + <p> + This puzzled me yet more; and a thought coming into my head, I asked if he + and my father had been twins. + </p> + <p> + He jumped upon his stool, and the horn spoon fell out of his hand upon the + floor. “What gars ye ask that?” he said, and he caught me by the breast of + the jacket, and looked this time straight into my eyes: his own were + little and light, and bright like a bird’s, blinking and winking + strangely. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” I asked, very calmly, for I was far stronger than he, + and not easily frightened. “Take your hand from my jacket. This is no way + to behave.” + </p> + <p> + My uncle seemed to make a great effort upon himself. “Dod man, David,” he + said, “ye should-nae speak to me about your father. That’s where the + mistake is.” He sat awhile and shook, blinking in his plate: “He was all + the brother that ever I had,” he added, but with no heart in his voice; + and then he caught up his spoon and fell to supper again, but still + shaking. + </p> + <p> + Now this last passage, this laying of hands upon my person and sudden + profession of love for my dead father, went so clean beyond my + comprehension that it put me into both fear and hope. On the one hand, I + began to think my uncle was perhaps insane and might be dangerous; on the + other, there came up into my mind (quite unbidden by me and even + discouraged) a story like some ballad I had heard folk singing, of a poor + lad that was a rightful heir and a wicked kinsman that tried to keep him + from his own. For why should my uncle play a part with a relative that + came, almost a beggar, to his door, unless in his heart he had some cause + to fear him? + </p> + <p> + With this notion, all unacknowledged, but nevertheless getting firmly + settled in my head, I now began to imitate his covert looks; so that we + sat at table like a cat and a mouse, each stealthily observing the other. + Not another word had he to say to me, black or white, but was busy turning + something secretly over in his mind; and the longer we sat and the more I + looked at him, the more certain I became that the something was unfriendly + to myself. + </p> + <p> + When he had cleared the platter, he got out a single pipeful of tobacco, + just as in the morning, turned round a stool into the chimney corner, and + sat awhile smoking, with his back to me. + </p> + <p> + “Davie,” he said, at length, “I’ve been thinking;” then he paused, and + said it again. “There’s a wee bit siller that I half promised ye before ye + were born,” he continued; “promised it to your father. O, naething legal, + ye understand; just gentlemen daffing at their wine. Well, I keepit that + bit money separate—it was a great expense, but a promise is a + promise—and it has grown by now to be a matter of just precisely—just + exactly”—and here he paused and stumbled—“of just exactly + forty pounds!” This last he rapped out with a sidelong glance over his + shoulder; and the next moment added, almost with a scream, “Scots!” + </p> + <p> + The pound Scots being the same thing as an English shilling, the + difference made by this second thought was considerable; I could see, + besides, that the whole story was a lie, invented with some end which it + puzzled me to guess; and I made no attempt to conceal the tone of raillery + in which I answered— + </p> + <p> + “O, think again, sir! Pounds sterling, I believe!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I said,” returned my uncle: “pounds sterling! And if you’ll + step out-by to the door a minute, just to see what kind of a night it is, + I’ll get it out to ye and call ye in again.” + </p> + <p> + I did his will, smiling to myself in my contempt that he should think I + was so easily to be deceived. It was a dark night, with a few stars low + down; and as I stood just outside the door, I heard a hollow moaning of + wind far off among the hills. I said to myself there was something + thundery and changeful in the weather, and little knew of what a vast + importance that should prove to me before the evening passed. + </p> + <p> + When I was called in again, my uncle counted out into my hand seven and + thirty golden guinea pieces; the rest was in his hand, in small gold and + silver; but his heart failed him there, and he crammed the change into his + pocket. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said he, “that’ll show you! I’m a queer man, and strange wi’ + strangers; but my word is my bond, and there’s the proof of it.” + </p> + <p> + Now, my uncle seemed so miserly that I was struck dumb by this sudden + generosity, and could find no words in which to thank him. + </p> + <p> + “No a word!” said he. “Nae thanks; I want nae thanks. I do my duty. I’m no + saying that everybody would have done it; but for my part (though I’m a + careful body, too) it’s a pleasure to me to do the right by my brother’s + son; and it’s a pleasure to me to think that now we’ll agree as such near + friends should.” + </p> + <p> + I spoke him in return as handsomely as I was able; but all the while I was + wondering what would come next, and why he had parted with his precious + guineas; for as to the reason he had given, a baby would have refused it. + </p> + <p> + Presently he looked towards me sideways. + </p> + <p> + “And see here,” says he, “tit for tat.” + </p> + <p> + I told him I was ready to prove my gratitude in any reasonable degree, and + then waited, looking for some monstrous demand. And yet, when at last he + plucked up courage to speak, it was only to tell me (very properly, as I + thought) that he was growing old and a little broken, and that he would + expect me to help him with the house and the bit garden. + </p> + <p> + I answered, and expressed my readiness to serve. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “let’s begin.” He pulled out of his pocket a rusty key. + “There,” says he, “there’s the key of the stair-tower at the far end of + the house. Ye can only win into it from the outside, for that part of the + house is no finished. Gang ye in there, and up the stairs, and bring me + down the chest that’s at the top. There’s papers in’t,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Can I have a light, sir?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Na,” said he, very cunningly. “Nae lights in my house.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir,” said I. “Are the stairs good?” + </p> + <p> + “They’re grand,” said he; and then, as I was going, “Keep to the wall,” he + added; “there’s nae bannisters. But the stairs are grand underfoot.” + </p> + <p> + Out I went into the night. The wind was still moaning in the distance, + though never a breath of it came near the house of Shaws. It had fallen + blacker than ever; and I was glad to feel along the wall, till I came the + length of the stairtower door at the far end of the unfinished wing. I had + got the key into the keyhole and had just turned it, when all upon a + sudden, without sound of wind or thunder, the whole sky lighted up with + wild fire and went black again. I had to put my hand over my eyes to get + back to the colour of the darkness; and indeed I was already half blinded + when I stepped into the tower. + </p> + <p> + It was so dark inside, it seemed a body could scarce breathe; but I pushed + out with foot and hand, and presently struck the wall with the one, and + the lowermost round of the stair with the other. The wall, by the touch, + was of fine hewn stone; the steps too, though somewhat steep and narrow, + were of polished masonwork, and regular and solid underfoot. Minding my + uncle’s word about the bannisters, I kept close to the tower side, and + felt my way in the pitch darkness with a beating heart. + </p> + <p> + The house of Shaws stood some five full storeys high, not counting lofts. + Well, as I advanced, it seemed to me the stair grew airier and a thought + more lightsome; and I was wondering what might be the cause of this + change, when a second blink of the summer lightning came and went. If I + did not cry out, it was because fear had me by the throat; and if I did + not fall, it was more by Heaven’s mercy than my own strength. It was not + only that the flash shone in on every side through breaches in the wall, + so that I seemed to be clambering aloft upon an open scaffold, but the + same passing brightness showed me the steps were of unequal length, and + that one of my feet rested that moment within two inches of the well. + </p> + <p> + This was the grand stair! I thought; and with the thought, a gust of a + kind of angry courage came into my heart. My uncle had sent me here, + certainly to run great risks, perhaps to die. I swore I would settle that + “perhaps,” if I should break my neck for it; got me down upon my hands and + knees; and as slowly as a snail, feeling before me every inch, and testing + the solidity of every stone, I continued to ascend the stair. The + darkness, by contrast with the flash, appeared to have redoubled; nor was + that all, for my ears were now troubled and my mind confounded by a great + stir of bats in the top part of the tower, and the foul beasts, flying + downwards, sometimes beat about my face and body. + </p> + <p> + The tower, I should have said, was square; and in every corner the step + was made of a great stone of a different shape to join the flights. Well, + I had come close to one of these turns, when, feeling forward as usual, my + hand slipped upon an edge and found nothing but emptiness beyond it. The + stair had been carried no higher; to set a stranger mounting it in the + darkness was to send him straight to his death; and (although, thanks to + the lightning and my own precautions, I was safe enough) the mere thought + of the peril in which I might have stood, and the dreadful height I might + have fallen from, brought out the sweat upon my body and relaxed my + joints. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0053m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0053m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0053.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + But I knew what I wanted now, and turned and groped my way down again, + with a wonderful anger in my heart. About half-way down, the wind sprang + up in a clap and shook the tower, and died again; the rain followed; and + before I had reached the ground level it fell in buckets. I put out my + head into the storm, and looked along towards the kitchen. The door, which + I had shut behind me when I left, now stood open, and shed a little + glimmer of light; and I thought I could see a figure standing in the rain, + quite still, like a man hearkening. And then there came a blinding flash, + which showed me my uncle plainly, just where I had fancied him to stand; + and hard upon the heels of it, a great tow-row of thunder. + </p> + <p> + Now, whether my uncle thought the crash to be the sound of my fall, or + whether he heard in it God’s voice denouncing murder, I will leave you to + guess. Certain it is, at least, that he was seized on by a kind of panic + fear, and that he ran into the house and left the door open behind him. I + followed as softly as I could, and, coming unheard into the kitchen, stood + and watched him. + </p> + <p> + He had found time to open the corner cupboard and bring out a great case + bottle of aqua vitae, and now sat with his back towards me at the table. + Ever and again he would be seized with a fit of deadly shuddering and + groan aloud, and carrying the bottle to his lips, drink down the raw + spirits by the mouthful. + </p> + <p> + I stepped forward, came close behind him where he sat, and suddenly + clapping my two hands down upon his shoulders—“Ah!” cried I. + </p> + <p> + My uncle gave a kind of broken cry like a sheep’s bleat, flung up his + arms, and tumbled to the floor like a dead man. I was somewhat shocked at + this; but I had myself to look to first of all, and did not hesitate to + let him lie as he had fallen. The keys were hanging in the cupboard; and + it was my design to furnish myself with arms before my uncle should come + again to his senses and the power of devising evil. In the cupboard were a + few bottles, some apparently of medicine; a great many bills and other + papers, which I should willingly enough have rummaged, had I had the time; + and a few necessaries that were nothing to my purpose. Thence I turned to + the chests. The first was full of meal; the second of moneybags and papers + tied into sheaves; in the third, with many other things (and these for the + most part clothes) I found a rusty, ugly-looking Highland dirk without the + scabbard. This, then, I concealed inside my waistcoat, and turned to my + uncle. + </p> + <p> + He lay as he had fallen, all huddled, with one knee up and one arm + sprawling abroad; his face had a strange colour of blue, and he seemed to + have ceased breathing. Fear came on me that he was dead; then I got water + and dashed it in his face; and with that he seemed to come a little to + himself, working his mouth and fluttering his eyelids. At last he looked + up and saw me, and there came into his eyes a terror that was not of this + world. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come,” said I; “sit up.” + </p> + <p> + “Are ye alive?” he sobbed. “O man, are ye alive?” + </p> + <p> + “That am I,” said I. “Small thanks to you!” + </p> + <p> + He had begun to seek for his breath with deep sighs. “The blue phial,” + said he—“in the aumry—the blue phial.” His breath came slower + still. + </p> + <p> + I ran to the cupboard, and, sure enough, found there a blue phial of + medicine, with the dose written on it on a paper, and this I administered + to him with what speed I might. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the trouble,” said he, reviving a little; “I have a trouble, Davie. + It’s the heart.” + </p> + <p> + I set him on a chair and looked at him. It is true I felt some pity for a + man that looked so sick, but I was full besides of righteous anger; and I + numbered over before him the points on which I wanted explanation: why he + lied to me at every word; why he feared that I should leave him; why he + disliked it to be hinted that he and my father were twins—“Is that + because it is true?” I asked; why he had given me money to which I was + convinced I had no claim; and, last of all, why he had tried to kill me. + He heard me all through in silence; and then, in a broken voice, begged me + to let him go to bed. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell ye the morn,” he said; “as sure as death I will.” + </p> + <p> + And so weak was he that I could do nothing but consent. I locked him into + his room, however, and pocketed the key, and then returning to the + kitchen, made up such a blaze as had not shone there for many a long year, + and wrapping myself in my plaid, lay down upon the chests and fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0057m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0057m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0057.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + I GO TO THE QUEEN’S FERRY + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9057m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9057m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9057.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + uch rain fell in the night; and the next morning there blew a bitter + wintry wind out of the north-west, driving scattered clouds. For all that, + and before the sun began to peep or the last of the stars had vanished, I + made my way to the side of the burn, and had a plunge in a deep whirling + pool. All aglow from my bath, I sat down once more beside the fire, which + I replenished, and began gravely to consider my position. + </p> + <p> + There was now no doubt about my uncle’s enmity; there was no doubt I + carried my life in my hand, and he would leave no stone unturned that he + might compass my destruction. But I was young and spirited, and like most + lads that have been country-bred, I had a great opinion of my shrewdness. + I had come to his door no better than a beggar and little more than a + child; he had met me with treachery and violence; it would be a fine + consummation to take the upper hand, and drive him like a herd of sheep. + </p> + <p> + I sat there nursing my knee and smiling at the fire; and I saw myself in + fancy smell out his secrets one after another, and grow to be that man’s + king and ruler. The warlock of Essendean, they say, had made a mirror in + which men could read the future; it must have been of other stuff than + burning coal; for in all the shapes and pictures that I sat and gazed at, + there was never a ship, never a seaman with a hairy cap, never a big + bludgeon for my silly head, or the least sign of all those tribulations + that were ripe to fall on me. + </p> + <p> + Presently, all swollen with conceit, I went up-stairs and gave my prisoner + his liberty. He gave me good-morning civilly; and I gave the same to him, + smiling down upon him, from the heights of my sufficiency. Soon we were + set to breakfast, as it might have been the day before. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said I, with a jeering tone, “have you nothing more to say to + me?” And then, as he made no articulate reply, “It will be time, I think, + to understand each other,” I continued. “You took me for a country Johnnie + Raw, with no more mother-wit or courage than a porridge-stick. I took you + for a good man, or no worse than others at the least. It seems we were + both wrong. What cause you have to fear me, to cheat me, and to attempt my + life—” + </p> + <p> + He murmured something about a jest, and that he liked a bit of fun; and + then, seeing me smile, changed his tone, and assured me he would make all + clear as soon as we had breakfasted. I saw by his face that he had no lie + ready for me, though he was hard at work preparing one; and I think I was + about to tell him so, when we were interrupted by a knocking at the door. + </p> + <p> + Bidding my uncle sit where he was, I went to open it, and found on the + doorstep a half-grown boy in sea-clothes. He had no sooner seen me than he + began to dance some steps of the sea-hornpipe (which I had never before + heard of far less seen), snapping his fingers in the air and footing it + right cleverly. For all that, he was blue with the cold; and there was + something in his face, a look between tears and laughter, that was highly + pathetic and consisted ill with this gaiety of manner. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0059m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0059m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0059.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + “What cheer, mate?” says he, with a cracked voice. + </p> + <p> + I asked him soberly to name his pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “O, pleasure!” says he; and then began to sing: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “For it’s my delight, of a shiny night, + In the season of the year.” + </pre> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “if you have no business at all, I will even be so + unmannerly as to shut you out.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay, brother!” he cried. “Have you no fun about you? or do you want to + get me thrashed? I’ve brought a letter from old Heasyoasy to Mr. + Belflower.” He showed me a letter as he spoke. “And I say, mate,” he + added, “I’m mortal hungry.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “come into the house, and you shall have a bite if I go + empty for it.” + </p> + <p> + With that I brought him in and set him down to my own place, where he + fell-to greedily on the remains of breakfast, winking to me between + whiles, and making many faces, which I think the poor soul considered + manly. Meanwhile, my uncle had read the letter and sat thinking; then, + suddenly, he got to his feet with a great air of liveliness, and pulled me + apart into the farthest corner of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Read that,” said he, and put the letter in my hand. + </p> + <p> + Here it is, lying before me as I write: + </p> + <p> + “The Hawes Inn, at the Queen’s Ferry. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,—I lie here with my hawser up and down, and send my cabin-boy + to informe. If you have any further commands for over-seas, to-day will be + the last occasion, as the wind will serve us well out of the firth. I will + not seek to deny that I have had crosses with your doer,* Mr. Rankeillor; + of which, if not speedily redd up, you may looke to see some losses + follow. I have drawn a bill upon you, as per margin, and am, sir, your + most obedt., humble servant, “ELIAS HOSEASON.” * Agent. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Davie,” resumed my uncle, as soon as he saw that I had done, “I + have a venture with this man Hoseason, the captain of a trading brig, the + Covenant, of Dysart. Now, if you and me was to walk over with yon lad, I + could see the captain at the Hawes, or maybe on board the Covenant if + there was papers to be signed; and so far from a loss of time, we can jog + on to the lawyer, Mr. Rankeillor’s. After a’ that’s come and gone, ye + would be swier* to believe me upon my naked word; but ye’ll believe + Rankeillor. He’s factor to half the gentry in these parts; an auld man, + forby: highly respeckit, and he kenned your father.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Unwilling. +</pre> + <p> + I stood awhile and thought. I was going to some place of shipping, which + was doubtless populous, and where my uncle durst attempt no violence, and, + indeed, even the society of the cabin-boy so far protected me. Once there, + I believed I could force on the visit to the lawyer, even if my uncle were + now insincere in proposing it; and, perhaps, in the bottom of my heart, I + wished a nearer view of the sea and ships. You are to remember I had lived + all my life in the inland hills, and just two days before had my first + sight of the firth lying like a blue floor, and the sailed ships moving on + the face of it, no bigger than toys. One thing with another, I made up my + mind. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” says I, “let us go to the Ferry.” + </p> + <p> + My uncle got into his hat and coat, and buckled an old rusty cutlass on; + and then we trod the fire out, locked the door, and set forth upon our + walk. + </p> + <p> + The wind, being in that cold quarter the north-west, blew nearly in our + faces as we went. It was the month of June; the grass was all white with + daisies, and the trees with blossom; but, to judge by our blue nails and + aching wrists, the time might have been winter and the whiteness a + December frost. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Ebenezer trudged in the ditch, jogging from side to side like an old + ploughman coming home from work. He never said a word the whole way; and I + was thrown for talk on the cabin-boy. He told me his name was Ransome, and + that he had followed the sea since he was nine, but could not say how old + he was, as he had lost his reckoning. He showed me tattoo marks, baring + his breast in the teeth of the wind and in spite of my remonstrances, for + I thought it was enough to kill him; he swore horribly whenever he + remembered, but more like a silly schoolboy than a man; and boasted of + many wild and bad things that he had done: stealthy thefts, false + accusations, ay, and even murder; but all with such a dearth of likelihood + in the details, and such a weak and crazy swagger in the delivery, as + disposed me rather to pity than to believe him. + </p> + <p> + I asked him of the brig (which he declared was the finest ship that + sailed) and of Captain Hoseason, in whose praises he was equally loud. + Heasyoasy (for so he still named the skipper) was a man, by his account, + that minded for nothing either in heaven or earth; one that, as people + said, would “crack on all sail into the day of judgment;” rough, fierce, + unscrupulous, and brutal; and all this my poor cabin-boy had taught + himself to admire as something seamanlike and manly. He would only admit + one flaw in his idol. “He ain’t no seaman,” he admitted. “That’s Mr. Shuan + that navigates the brig; he’s the finest seaman in the trade, only for + drink; and I tell you I believe it! Why, look’ere;” and turning down his + stocking he showed me a great, raw, red wound that made my blood run cold. + “He done that—Mr. Shuan done it,” he said, with an air of pride. + </p> + <p> + “What!” I cried, “do you take such savage usage at his hands? Why, you are + no slave, to be so handled!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the poor moon-calf, changing his tune at once, “and so he’ll + find. See’ere;” and he showed me a great case-knife, which he told me was + stolen. “O,” says he, “let me see him try; I dare him to; I’ll do for him! + O, he ain’t the first!” And he confirmed it with a poor, silly, ugly oath. + </p> + <p> + I have never felt such pity for any one in this wide world as I felt for + that half-witted creature, and it began to come over me that the brig + Covenant (for all her pious name) was little better than a hell upon the + seas. + </p> + <p> + “Have you no friends?” said I. + </p> + <p> + He said he had a father in some English seaport, I forget which. + </p> + <p> + “He was a fine man, too,” he said, “but he’s dead.” + </p> + <p> + “In Heaven’s name,” cried I, “can you find no reputable life on shore?” + </p> + <p> + “O, no,” says he, winking and looking very sly, “they would put me to a + trade. I know a trick worth two of that, I do!” + </p> + <p> + I asked him what trade could be so dreadful as the one he followed, where + he ran the continual peril of his life, not alone from wind and sea, but + by the horrid cruelty of those who were his masters. He said it was very + true; and then began to praise the life, and tell what a pleasure it was + to get on shore with money in his pocket, and spend it like a man, and buy + apples, and swagger, and surprise what he called stick-in-the-mud boys. + “And then it’s not all as bad as that,” says he; “there’s worse off than + me: there’s the twenty-pounders. O, laws! you should see them taking on. + Why, I’ve seen a man as old as you, I dessay”—(to him I seemed old)—“ah, + and he had a beard, too—well, and as soon as we cleared out of the + river, and he had the drug out of his head—my! how he cried and + carried on! I made a fine fool of him, I tell you! And then there’s little + uns, too: oh, little by me! I tell you, I keep them in order. When we + carry little uns, I have a rope’s end of my own to wollop’em.” And so he + ran on, until it came in on me what he meant by twenty-pounders were those + unhappy criminals who were sent over-seas to slavery in North America, or + the still more unhappy innocents who were kidnapped or trepanned (as the + word went) for private interest or vengeance. + </p> + <p> + Just then we came to the top of the hill, and looked down on the Ferry and + the Hope. The Firth of Forth (as is very well known) narrows at this point + to the width of a good-sized river, which makes a convenient ferry going + north, and turns the upper reach into a landlocked haven for all manner of + ships. Right in the midst of the narrows lies an islet with some ruins; on + the south shore they have built a pier for the service of the Ferry; and + at the end of the pier, on the other side of the road, and backed against + a pretty garden of holly-trees and hawthorns, I could see the building + which they called the Hawes Inn. + </p> + <p> + The town of Queensferry lies farther west, and the neighbourhood of the + inn looked pretty lonely at that time of day, for the boat had just gone + north with passengers. A skiff, however, lay beside the pier, with some + seamen sleeping on the thwarts; this, as Ransome told me, was the brig’s + boat waiting for the captain; and about half a mile off, and all alone in + the anchorage, he showed me the Covenant herself. There was a sea-going + bustle on board; yards were swinging into place; and as the wind blew from + that quarter, I could hear the song of the sailors as they pulled upon the + ropes. After all I had listened to upon the way, I looked at that ship + with an extreme abhorrence; and from the bottom of my heart I pitied all + poor souls that were condemned to sail in her. + </p> + <p> + We had all three pulled up on the brow of the hill; and now I marched + across the road and addressed my uncle. “I think it right to tell you, + sir,” says I, “there’s nothing that will bring me on board that Covenant.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed to waken from a dream. “Eh?” he said. “What’s that?” + </p> + <p> + I told him over again. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” he said, “we’ll have to please ye, I suppose. But what are + we standing here for? It’s perishing cold; and if I’m no mistaken, they’re + busking the Covenant for sea.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0066m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0066m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0066.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN’S FERRY + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9066m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9066m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9066.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + s soon as we came to the inn, Ransome led us up the stair to a small + room, with a bed in it, and heated like an oven by a great fire of coal. + At a table hard by the chimney, a tall, dark, sober-looking man sat + writing. In spite of the heat of the room, he wore a thick sea-jacket, + buttoned to the neck, and a tall hairy cap drawn down over his ears; yet I + never saw any man, not even a judge upon the bench, look cooler, or more + studious and self-possessed, than this ship-captain. + </p> + <p> + He got to his feet at once, and coming forward, offered his large hand to + Ebenezer. “I am proud to see you, Mr. Balfour,” said he, in a fine deep + voice, “and glad that ye are here in time. The wind’s fair, and the tide + upon the turn; we’ll see the old coal-bucket burning on the Isle of May + before to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Hoseason,” returned my uncle, “you keep your room unco hot.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a habit I have, Mr. Balfour,” said the skipper. “I’m a cold-rife man + by my nature; I have a cold blood, sir. There’s neither fur, nor flannel—no, + sir, nor hot rum, will warm up what they call the temperature. Sir, it’s + the same with most men that have been carbonadoed, as they call it, in the + tropic seas.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, captain,” replied my uncle, “we must all be the way we’re + made.” + </p> + <p> + But it chanced that this fancy of the captain’s had a great share in my + misfortunes. For though I had promised myself not to let my kinsman out of + sight, I was both so impatient for a nearer look of the sea, and so + sickened by the closeness of the room, that when he told me to “run + down-stairs and play myself awhile,” I was fool enough to take him at his + word. + </p> + <p> + Away I went, therefore, leaving the two men sitting down to a bottle and a + great mass of papers; and crossing the road in front of the inn, walked + down upon the beach. With the wind in that quarter, only little wavelets, + not much bigger than I had seen upon a lake, beat upon the shore. But the + weeds were new to me—some green, some brown and long, and some with + little bladders that crackled between my fingers. Even so far up the + firth, the smell of the sea-water was exceedingly salt and stirring; the + Covenant, besides, was beginning to shake out her sails, which hung upon + the yards in clusters; and the spirit of all that I beheld put me in + thoughts of far voyages and foreign places. + </p> + <p> + I looked, too, at the seamen with the skiff—big brown fellows, some + in shirts, some with jackets, some with coloured handkerchiefs about their + throats, one with a brace of pistols stuck into his pockets, two or three + with knotty bludgeons, and all with their case-knives. I passed the time + of day with one that looked less desperate than his fellows, and asked him + of the sailing of the brig. He said they would get under way as soon as + the ebb set, and expressed his gladness to be out of a port where there + were no taverns and fiddlers; but all with such horrifying oaths, that I + made haste to get away from him. + </p> + <p> + This threw me back on Ransome, who seemed the least wicked of that gang, + and who soon came out of the inn and ran to me, crying for a bowl of + punch. I told him I would give him no such thing, for neither he nor I was + of an age for such indulgences. “But a glass of ale you may have, and + welcome,” said I. He mopped and mowed at me, and called me names; but he + was glad to get the ale, for all that; and presently we were set down at a + table in the front room of the inn, and both eating and drinking with a + good appetite. + </p> + <p> + Here it occurred to me that, as the landlord was a man of that county, I + might do well to make a friend of him. I offered him a share, as was much + the custom in those days; but he was far too great a man to sit with such + poor customers as Ransome and myself, and he was leaving the room, when I + called him back to ask if he knew Mr. Rankeillor. + </p> + <p> + “Hoot, ay,” says he, “and a very honest man. And, O, by-the-by,” says he, + “was it you that came in with Ebenezer?” And when I had told him yes, + “Ye’ll be no friend of his?” he asked, meaning, in the Scottish way, that + I would be no relative. + </p> + <p> + I told him no, none. + </p> + <p> + “I thought not,” said he, “and yet ye have a kind of gliff* of Mr. + Alexander.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Look. +</pre> + <p> + I said it seemed that Ebenezer was ill-seen in the country. + </p> + <p> + “Nae doubt,” said the landlord. “He’s a wicked auld man, and there’s many + would like to see him girning in the tow*. Jennet Clouston and mony mair + that he has harried out of house and hame. And yet he was ance a fine + young fellow, too. But that was before the sough** gaed abroad about Mr. + Alexander, that was like the death of him.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Rope. + + ** Report. +</pre> + <p> + “And what was it?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Ou, just that he had killed him,” said the landlord. “Did ye never hear + that?” + </p> + <p> + “And what would he kill him for?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “And what for, but just to get the place,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “The place?” said I. “The Shaws?” + </p> + <p> + “Nae other place that I ken,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, man?” said I. “Is that so? Was my—was Alexander the eldest + son?” + </p> + <p> + “‘Deed was he,” said the landlord. “What else would he have killed him + for?” + </p> + <p> + And with that he went away, as he had been impatient to do from the + beginning. + </p> + <p> + Of course, I had guessed it a long while ago; but it is one thing to + guess, another to know; and I sat stunned with my good fortune, and could + scarce grow to believe that the same poor lad who had trudged in the dust + from Ettrick Forest not two days ago, was now one of the rich of the + earth, and had a house and broad lands, and might mount his horse + tomorrow. All these pleasant things, and a thousand others, crowded into + my mind, as I sat staring before me out of the inn window, and paying no + heed to what I saw; only I remember that my eye lighted on Captain + Hoseason down on the pier among his seamen, and speaking with some + authority. And presently he came marching back towards the house, with no + mark of a sailor’s clumsiness, but carrying his fine, tall figure with a + manly bearing, and still with the same sober, grave expression on his + face. I wondered if it was possible that Ransome’s stories could be true, + and half disbelieved them; they fitted so ill with the man’s looks. But + indeed, he was neither so good as I supposed him, nor quite so bad as + Ransome did; for, in fact, he was two men, and left the better one behind + as soon as he set foot on board his vessel. + </p> + <p> + The next thing, I heard my uncle calling me, and found the pair in the + road together. It was the captain who addressed me, and that with an air + (very flattering to a young lad) of grave equality. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said he, “Mr. Balfour tells me great things of you; and for my own + part, I like your looks. I wish I was for longer here, that we might make + the better friends; but we’ll make the most of what we have. Ye shall come + on board my brig for half an hour, till the ebb sets, and drink a bowl + with me.” + </p> + <p> + Now, I longed to see the inside of a ship more than words can tell; but I + was not going to put myself in jeopardy, and I told him my uncle and I had + an appointment with a lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay,” said he, “he passed me word of that. But, ye see, the boat’ll + set ye ashore at the town pier, and that’s but a penny stonecast from + Rankeillor’s house.” And here he suddenly leaned down and whispered in my + ear: “Take care of the old tod;* he means mischief. Come aboard till I can + get a word with ye.” And then, passing his arm through mine, he continued + aloud, as he set off towards his boat: “But, come, what can I bring ye + from the Carolinas? Any friend of Mr. Balfour’s can command. A roll of + tobacco? Indian feather-work? a skin of a wild beast? a stone pipe? the + mocking-bird that mews for all the world like a cat? the cardinal bird + that is as red as blood?—take your pick and say your pleasure.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Fox. +</pre> + <p> + By this time we were at the boat-side, and he was handing me in. I did not + dream of hanging back; I thought (the poor fool!) that I had found a good + friend and helper, and I was rejoiced to see the ship. As soon as we were + all set in our places, the boat was thrust off from the pier and began to + move over the waters: and what with my pleasure in this new movement and + my surprise at our low position, and the appearance of the shores, and the + growing bigness of the brig as we drew near to it, I could hardly + understand what the captain said, and must have answered him at random. + </p> + <p> + As soon as we were alongside (where I sat fairly gaping at the ship’s + height, the strong humming of the tide against its sides, and the pleasant + cries of the seamen at their work) Hoseason, declaring that he and I must + be the first aboard, ordered a tackle to be sent down from the main-yard. + In this I was whipped into the air and set down again on the deck, where + the captain stood ready waiting for me, and instantly slipped back his arm + under mine. There I stood some while, a little dizzy with the unsteadiness + of all around me, perhaps a little afraid, and yet vastly pleased with + these strange sights; the captain meanwhile pointing out the strangest, + and telling me their names and uses. + </p> + <p> + “But where is my uncle?” said I suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Hoseason, with a sudden grimness, “that’s the point.” + </p> + <p> + I felt I was lost. With all my strength, I plucked myself clear of him and + ran to the bulwarks. Sure enough, there was the boat pulling for the town, + with my uncle sitting in the stern. I gave a piercing cry—“Help, + help! Murder!”—so that both sides of the anchorage rang with it, and + my uncle turned round where he was sitting, and showed me a face full of + cruelty and terror. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0071m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0071m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0071.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + It was the last I saw. Already strong hands had been plucking me back from + the ship’s side; and now a thunderbolt seemed to strike me; I saw a great + flash of fire, and fell senseless. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0074m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0074m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0074.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG “COVENANT” OF DYSART + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9074m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9074m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9074.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + came to myself in darkness, in great pain, bound hand and foot, and + deafened by many unfamiliar noises. There sounded in my ears a roaring of + water as of a huge mill-dam, the thrashing of heavy sprays, the thundering + of the sails, and the shrill cries of seamen. The whole world now heaved + giddily up, and now rushed giddily downward; and so sick and hurt was I in + body, and my mind so much confounded, that it took me a long while, + chasing my thoughts up and down, and ever stunned again by a fresh stab of + pain, to realise that I must be lying somewhere bound in the belly of that + unlucky ship, and that the wind must have strengthened to a gale. With the + clear perception of my plight, there fell upon me a blackness of despair, + a horror of remorse at my own folly, and a passion of anger at my uncle, + that once more bereft me of my senses. + </p> + <p> + When I returned again to life, the same uproar, the same confused and + violent movements, shook and deafened me; and presently, to my other pains + and distresses, there was added the sickness of an unused landsman on the + sea. In that time of my adventurous youth, I suffered many hardships; but + none that was so crushing to my mind and body, or lit by so few hopes, as + these first hours aboard the brig. + </p> + <p> + I heard a gun fire, and supposed the storm had proved too strong for us, + and we were firing signals of distress. The thought of deliverance, even + by death in the deep sea, was welcome to me. Yet it was no such matter; + but (as I was afterwards told) a common habit of the captain’s, which I + here set down to show that even the worst man may have his kindlier side. + We were then passing, it appeared, within some miles of Dysart, where the + brig was built, and where old Mrs. Hoseason, the captain’s mother, had + come some years before to live; and whether outward or inward bound, the + Covenant was never suffered to go by that place by day, without a gun + fired and colours shown. + </p> + <p> + I had no measure of time; day and night were alike in that ill-smelling + cavern of the ship’s bowels where I lay; and the misery of my situation + drew out the hours to double. How long, therefore, I lay waiting to hear + the ship split upon some rock, or to feel her reel head foremost into the + depths of the sea, I have not the means of computation. But sleep at + length stole from me the consciousness of sorrow. + </p> + <p> + I was awakened by the light of a hand-lantern shining in my face. A small + man of about thirty, with green eyes and a tangle of fair hair, stood + looking down at me. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0077m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0077m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0077.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0079m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0079m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0079.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + “Well,” said he, “how goes it?” + </p> + <p> + I answered by a sob; and my visitor then felt my pulse and temples, and + set himself to wash and dress the wound upon my scalp. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said he, “a sore dunt*. What, man? Cheer up! The world’s no done; + you’ve made a bad start of it but you’ll make a better. Have you had any + meat?” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Stroke. +</pre> + <p> + I said I could not look at it: and thereupon he gave me some brandy and + water in a tin pannikin, and left me once more to myself. + </p> + <p> + The next time he came to see me, I was lying betwixt sleep and waking, my + eyes wide open in the darkness, the sickness quite departed, but succeeded + by a horrid giddiness and swimming that was almost worse to bear. I ached, + besides, in every limb, and the cords that bound me seemed to be of fire. + The smell of the hole in which I lay seemed to have become a part of me; + and during the long interval since his last visit I had suffered tortures + of fear, now from the scurrying of the ship’s rats, that sometimes + pattered on my very face, and now from the dismal imaginings that haunt + the bed of fever. + </p> + <p> + The glimmer of the lantern, as a trap opened, shone in like the heaven’s + sunlight; and though it only showed me the strong, dark beams of the ship + that was my prison, I could have cried aloud for gladness. The man with + the green eyes was the first to descend the ladder, and I noticed that he + came somewhat unsteadily. He was followed by the captain. Neither said a + word; but the first set to and examined me, and dressed my wound as + before, while Hoseason looked me in my face with an odd, black look. + </p> + <p> + “Now, sir, you see for yourself,” said the first: “a high fever, no + appetite, no light, no meat: you see for yourself what that means.” + </p> + <p> + “I am no conjurer, Mr. Riach,” said the captain. + </p> + <p> + “Give me leave, sir,” said Riach; “you’ve a good head upon your shoulders, + and a good Scotch tongue to ask with; but I will leave you no manner of + excuse; I want that boy taken out of this hole and put in the forecastle.” + </p> + <p> + “What ye may want, sir, is a matter of concern to nobody but yoursel’,” + returned the captain; “but I can tell ye that which is to be. Here he is; + here he shall bide.” + </p> + <p> + “Admitting that you have been paid in a proportion,” said the other, “I + will crave leave humbly to say that I have not. Paid I am, and none too + much, to be the second officer of this old tub, and you ken very well if I + do my best to earn it. But I was paid for nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + “If ye could hold back your hand from the tin-pan, Mr. Riach, I would have + no complaint to make of ye,” returned the skipper; “and instead of asking + riddles, I make bold to say that ye would keep your breath to cool your + porridge. We’ll be required on deck,” he added, in a sharper note, and set + one foot upon the ladder. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Riach caught him by the sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Admitting that you have been paid to do a murder——” he began. + </p> + <p> + Hoseason turned upon him with a flash. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” he cried. “What kind of talk is that?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems it is the talk that you can understand,” said Mr. Riach, looking + him steadily in the face. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Riach, I have sailed with ye three cruises,” replied the captain. “In + all that time, sir, ye should have learned to know me: I’m a stiff man, + and a dour man; but for what ye say the now—fie, fie!—it comes + from a bad heart and a black conscience. If ye say the lad will die——” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, will he!” said Mr. Riach. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, is not that enough?” said Hoseason. “Flit him where ye + please!” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the captain ascended the ladder; and I, who had lain silent + throughout this strange conversation, beheld Mr. Riach turn after him and + bow as low as to his knees in what was plainly a spirit of derision. Even + in my then state of sickness, I perceived two things: that the mate was + touched with liquor, as the captain hinted, and that (drunk or sober) he + was like to prove a valuable friend. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes afterwards my bonds were cut, I was hoisted on a man’s back, + carried up to the forecastle, and laid in a bunk on some sea-blankets; + where the first thing that I did was to lose my senses. + </p> + <p> + It was a blessed thing indeed to open my eyes again upon the daylight, and + to find myself in the society of men. The forecastle was a roomy place + enough, set all about with berths, in which the men of the watch below + were seated smoking, or lying down asleep. The day being calm and the wind + fair, the scuttle was open, and not only the good daylight, but from time + to time (as the ship rolled) a dusty beam of sunlight shone in, and + dazzled and delighted me. I had no sooner moved, moreover, than one of the + men brought me a drink of something healing which Mr. Riach had prepared, + and bade me lie still and I should soon be well again. There were no bones + broken, he explained: “A clour* on the head was naething. Man,” said he, + “it was me that gave it ye!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Blow. +</pre> + <p> + Here I lay for the space of many days a close prisoner, and not only got + my health again, but came to know my companions. They were a rough lot + indeed, as sailors mostly are: being men rooted out of all the kindly + parts of life, and condemned to toss together on the rough seas, with + masters no less cruel. There were some among them that had sailed with the + pirates and seen things it would be a shame even to speak of; some were + men that had run from the king’s ships, and went with a halter round their + necks, of which they made no secret; and all, as the saying goes, were “at + a word and a blow” with their best friends. Yet I had not been many days + shut up with them before I began to be ashamed of my first judgment, when + I had drawn away from them at the Ferry pier, as though they had been + unclean beasts. No class of man is altogether bad, but each has its own + faults and virtues; and these shipmates of mine were no exception to the + rule. Rough they were, sure enough; and bad, I suppose; but they had many + virtues. They were kind when it occurred to them, simple even beyond the + simplicity of a country lad like me, and had some glimmerings of honesty. + </p> + <p> + There was one man, of maybe forty, that would sit on my berthside for + hours and tell me of his wife and child. He was a fisher that had lost his + boat, and thus been driven to the deep-sea voyaging. Well, it is years ago + now: but I have never forgotten him. His wife (who was “young by him,” as + he often told me) waited in vain to see her man return; he would never + again make the fire for her in the morning, nor yet keep the bairn when + she was sick. Indeed, many of these poor fellows (as the event proved) + were upon their last cruise; the deep seas and cannibal fish received + them; and it is a thankless business to speak ill of the dead. + </p> + <p> + Among other good deeds that they did, they returned my money, which had + been shared among them; and though it was about a third short, I was very + glad to get it, and hoped great good from it in the land I was going to. + The ship was bound for the Carolinas; and you must not suppose that I was + going to that place merely as an exile. The trade was even then much + depressed; since that, and with the rebellion of the colonies and the + formation of the United States, it has, of course, come to an end; but in + those days of my youth, white men were still sold into slavery on the + plantations, and that was the destiny to which my wicked uncle had + condemned me. + </p> + <p> + The cabin-boy Ransome (from whom I had first heard of these atrocities) + came in at times from the round-house, where he berthed and served, now + nursing a bruised limb in silent agony, now raving against the cruelty of + Mr. Shuan. It made my heart bleed; but the men had a great respect for the + chief mate, who was, as they said, “the only seaman of the whole + jing-bang, and none such a bad man when he was sober.” Indeed, I found + there was a strange peculiarity about our two mates: that Mr. Riach was + sullen, unkind, and harsh when he was sober, and Mr. Shuan would not hurt + a fly except when he was drinking. I asked about the captain; but I was + told drink made no difference upon that man of iron. + </p> + <p> + I did my best in the small time allowed me to make some thing like a man, + or rather I should say something like a boy, of the poor creature, + Ransome. But his mind was scarce truly human. He could remember nothing of + the time before he came to sea; only that his father had made clocks, and + had a starling in the parlour, which could whistle “The North Countrie;” + all else had been blotted out in these years of hardship and cruelties. He + had a strange notion of the dry land, picked up from sailor’s stories: + that it was a place where lads were put to some kind of slavery called a + trade, and where apprentices were continually lashed and clapped into foul + prisons. In a town, he thought every second person a decoy, and every + third house a place in which seamen would be drugged and murdered. To be + sure, I would tell him how kindly I had myself been used upon that dry + land he was so much afraid of, and how well fed and carefully taught both + by my friends and my parents: and if he had been recently hurt, he would + weep bitterly and swear to run away; but if he was in his usual crackbrain + humour, or (still more) if he had had a glass of spirits in the + roundhouse, he would deride the notion. + </p> + <p> + It was Mr. Riach (Heaven forgive him!) who gave the boy drink; and it was, + doubtless, kindly meant; but besides that it was ruin to his health, it + was the pitifullest thing in life to see this unhappy, unfriended creature + staggering, and dancing, and talking he knew not what. Some of the men + laughed, but not all; others would grow as black as thunder (thinking, + perhaps, of their own childhood or their own children) and bid him stop + that nonsense, and think what he was doing. As for me, I felt ashamed to + look at him, and the poor child still comes about me in my dreams. + </p> + <p> + All this time, you should know, the Covenant was meeting continual + head-winds and tumbling up and down against head-seas, so that the scuttle + was almost constantly shut, and the forecastle lighted only by a swinging + lantern on a beam. There was constant labour for all hands; the sails had + to be made and shortened every hour; the strain told on the men’s temper; + there was a growl of quarrelling all day long from berth to berth; and as + I was never allowed to set my foot on deck, you can picture to yourselves + how weary of my life I grew to be, and how impatient for a change. + </p> + <p> + And a change I was to get, as you shall hear; but I must first tell of a + conversation I had with Mr. Riach, which put a little heart in me to bear + my troubles. Getting him in a favourable stage of drink (for indeed he + never looked near me when he was sober), I pledged him to secrecy, and + told him my whole story. + </p> + <p> + He declared it was like a ballad; that he would do his best to help me; + that I should have paper, pen, and ink, and write one line to Mr. Campbell + and another to Mr. Rankeillor; and that if I had told the truth, ten to + one he would be able (with their help) to pull me through and set me in my + rights. + </p> + <p> + “And in the meantime,” says he, “keep your heart up. You’re not the only + one, I’ll tell you that. There’s many a man hoeing tobacco over-seas that + should be mounting his horse at his own door at home; many and many! And + life is all a variorum, at the best. Look at me: I’m a laird’s son and + more than half a doctor, and here I am, man-Jack to Hoseason!” + </p> + <p> + I thought it would be civil to ask him for his story. + </p> + <p> + He whistled loud. + </p> + <p> + “Never had one,” said he. “I like fun, that’s all.” And he skipped out of + the forecastle. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0086m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0086m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0086.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE ROUND-HOUSE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9086m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9086m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9086.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + ne night, about eleven o’clock, a man of Mr. Riach’s watch (which was on + deck) came below for his jacket; and instantly there began to go a whisper + about the forecastle that “Shuan had done for him at last.” There was no + need of a name; we all knew who was meant; but we had scarce time to get + the idea rightly in our heads, far less to speak of it, when the scuttle + was again flung open, and Captain Hoseason came down the ladder. He looked + sharply round the bunks in the tossing light of the lantern; and then, + walking straight up to me, he addressed me, to my surprise, in tones of + kindness. + </p> + <p> + “My man,” said he, “we want ye to serve in the round-house. You and + Ransome are to change berths. Run away aft with ye.” + </p> + <p> + Even as he spoke, two seamen appeared in the scuttle, carrying Ransome in + their arms; and the ship at that moment giving a great sheer into the sea, + and the lantern swinging, the light fell direct on the boy’s face. It was + as white as wax, and had a look upon it like a dreadful smile. The blood + in me ran cold, and I drew in my breath as if I had been struck. + </p> + <p> + “Run away aft; run away aft with ye!” cried Hoseason. + </p> + <p> + And at that I brushed by the sailors and the boy (who neither spoke nor + moved), and ran up the ladder on deck. + </p> + <p> + The brig was sheering swiftly and giddily through a long, cresting swell. + She was on the starboard tack, and on the left hand, under the arched foot + of the foresail, I could see the sunset still quite bright. This, at such + an hour of the night, surprised me greatly; but I was too ignorant to draw + the true conclusion—that we were going north-about round Scotland, + and were now on the high sea between the Orkney and Shetland Islands, + having avoided the dangerous currents of the Pentland Firth. For my part, + who had been so long shut in the dark and knew nothing of head-winds, I + thought we might be half-way or more across the Atlantic. And indeed + (beyond that I wondered a little at the lateness of the sunset light) I + gave no heed to it, and pushed on across the decks, running between the + seas, catching at ropes, and only saved from going overboard by one of the + hands on deck, who had been always kind to me. + </p> + <p> + The round-house, for which I was bound, and where I was now to sleep and + serve, stood some six feet above the decks, and considering the size of + the brig, was of good dimensions. Inside were a fixed table and bench, and + two berths, one for the captain and the other for the two mates, turn and + turn about. It was all fitted with lockers from top to bottom, so as to + stow away the officers’ belongings and a part of the ship’s stores; there + was a second store-room underneath, which you entered by a hatchway in the + middle of the deck; indeed, all the best of the meat and drink and the + whole of the powder were collected in this place; and all the firearms, + except the two pieces of brass ordnance, were set in a rack in the + aftermost wall of the round-house. The most of the cutlasses were in + another place. + </p> + <p> + A small window with a shutter on each side, and a skylight in the roof, + gave it light by day; and after dark there was a lamp always burning. It + was burning when I entered, not brightly, but enough to show Mr. Shuan + sitting at the table, with the brandy bottle and a tin pannikin in front + of him. He was a tall man, strongly made and very black; and he stared + before him on the table like one stupid. + </p> + <p> + He took no notice of my coming in; nor did he move when the captain + followed and leant on the berth beside me, looking darkly at the mate. I + stood in great fear of Hoseason, and had my reasons for it; but something + told me I need not be afraid of him just then; and I whispered in his ear: + “How is he?” He shook his head like one that does not know and does not + wish to think, and his face was very stern. + </p> + <p> + Presently Mr. Riach came in. He gave the captain a glance that meant the + boy was dead as plain as speaking, and took his place like the rest of us; + so that we all three stood without a word, staring down at Mr. Shuan, and + Mr. Shuan (on his side) sat without a word, looking hard upon the table. + </p> + <p> + All of a sudden he put out his hand to take the bottle; and at that Mr. + Riach started forward and caught it away from him, rather by surprise than + violence, crying out, with an oath, that there had been too much of this + work altogether, and that a judgment would fall upon the ship. And as he + spoke (the weather sliding-doors standing open) he tossed the bottle into + the sea. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Shuan was on his feet in a trice; he still looked dazed, but he meant + murder, ay, and would have done it, for the second time that night, had + not the captain stepped in between him and his victim. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down!” roars the captain. “Ye sot and swine, do ye know what ye’ve + done? Ye’ve murdered the boy!” + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0089m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0089m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0089.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + Mr. Shuan seemed to understand; for he sat down again, and put up his hand + to his brow. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “he brought me a dirty pannikin!” + </p> + <p> + At that word, the captain and I and Mr. Riach all looked at each other for + a second with a kind of frightened look; and then Hoseason walked up to + his chief officer, took him by the shoulder, led him across to his bunk, + and bade him lie down and go to sleep, as you might speak to a bad child. + The murderer cried a little, but he took off his sea-boots and obeyed. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” cried Mr. Riach, with a dreadful voice, “ye should have interfered + long syne. It’s too late now.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Riach,” said the captain, “this night’s work must never be kennt in + Dysart. The boy went overboard, sir; that’s what the story is; and I would + give five pounds out of my pocket it was true!” He turned to the table. + “What made ye throw the good bottle away?” he added. “There was nae sense + in that, sir. Here, David, draw me another. They’re in the bottom locker;” + and he tossed me a key. “Ye’ll need a glass yourself, sir,” he added to + Riach. “Yon was an ugly thing to see.” + </p> + <p> + So the pair sat down and hob-a-nobbed; and while they did so, the + murderer, who had been lying and whimpering in his berth, raised himself + upon his elbow and looked at them and at me. + </p> + <p> + That was the first night of my new duties; and in the course of the next + day I had got well into the run of them. I had to serve at the meals, + which the captain took at regular hours, sitting down with the officer who + was off duty; all the day through I would be running with a dram to one or + other of my three masters; and at night I slept on a blanket thrown on the + deck boards at the aftermost end of the round-house, and right in the + draught of the two doors. It was a hard and a cold bed; nor was I suffered + to sleep without interruption; for some one would be always coming in from + deck to get a dram, and when a fresh watch was to be set, two and + sometimes all three would sit down and brew a bowl together. How they kept + their health, I know not, any more than how I kept my own. + </p> + <p> + And yet in other ways it was an easy service. There was no cloth to lay; + the meals were either of oatmeal porridge or salt junk, except twice a + week, when there was duff: and though I was clumsy enough and (not being + firm on my sealegs) sometimes fell with what I was bringing them, both Mr. + Riach and the captain were singularly patient. I could not but fancy they + were making up lee-way with their consciences, and that they would scarce + have been so good with me if they had not been worse with Ransome. + </p> + <p> + As for Mr. Shuan, the drink or his crime, or the two together, had + certainly troubled his mind. I cannot say I ever saw him in his proper + wits. He never grew used to my being there, stared at me continually + (sometimes, I could have thought, with terror), and more than once drew + back from my hand when I was serving him. I was pretty sure from the first + that he had no clear mind of what he had done, and on my second day in the + round-house I had the proof of it. We were alone, and he had been staring + at me a long time, when all at once, up he got, as pale as death, and came + close up to me, to my great terror. But I had no cause to be afraid of + him. + </p> + <p> + “You were not here before?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said I.” + </p> + <p> + “There was another boy?” he asked again; and when I had answered him, + “Ah!” says he, “I thought that,” and went and sat down, without another + word, except to call for brandy. + </p> + <p> + You may think it strange, but for all the horror I had, I was still sorry + for him. He was a married man, with a wife in Leith; but whether or no he + had a family, I have now forgotten; I hope not. + </p> + <p> + Altogether it was no very hard life for the time it lasted, which (as you + are to hear) was not long. I was as well fed as the best of them; even + their pickles, which were the great dainty, I was allowed my share of; and + had I liked I might have been drunk from morning to night, like Mr. Shuan. + I had company, too, and good company of its sort. Mr. Riach, who had been + to the college, spoke to me like a friend when he was not sulking, and + told me many curious things, and some that were informing; and even the + captain, though he kept me at the stick’s end the most part of the time, + would sometimes unbuckle a bit, and tell me of the fine countries he had + visited. + </p> + <p> + The shadow of poor Ransome, to be sure, lay on all four of us, and on me + and Mr. Shuan in particular, most heavily. And then I had another trouble + of my own. Here I was, doing dirty work for three men that I looked down + upon, and one of whom, at least, should have hung upon a gallows; that was + for the present; and as for the future, I could only see myself slaving + alongside of negroes in the tobacco fields. Mr. Riach, perhaps from + caution, would never suffer me to say another word about my story; the + captain, whom I tried to approach, rebuffed me like a dog and would not + hear a word; and as the days came and went, my heart sank lower and lower, + till I was even glad of the work which kept me from thinking. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0094m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0094m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0094.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9094m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9094m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9094.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + ore than a week went by, in which the ill-luck that had hitherto pursued + the Covenant upon this voyage grew yet more strongly marked. Some days she + made a little way; others, she was driven actually back. At last we were + beaten so far to the south that we tossed and tacked to and fro the whole + of the ninth day, within sight of Cape Wrath and the wild, rocky coast on + either hand of it. There followed on that a council of the officers, and + some decision which I did not rightly understand, seeing only the result: + that we had made a fair wind of a foul one and were running south. + </p> + <p> + The tenth afternoon there was a falling swell and a thick, wet, white fog + that hid one end of the brig from the other. All afternoon, when I went on + deck, I saw men and officers listening hard over the bulwarks—“for + breakers,” they said; and though I did not so much as understand the word, + I felt danger in the air, and was excited. + </p> + <p> + Maybe about ten at night, I was serving Mr. Riach and the captain at their + supper, when the ship struck something with a great sound, and we heard + voices singing out. My two masters leaped to their feet. + </p> + <p> + “She’s struck!” said Mr. Riach. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said the captain. “We’ve only run a boat down.” + </p> + <p> + And they hurried out. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0097m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0097m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0097.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + The captain was in the right of it. We had run down a boat in the fog, and + she had parted in the midst and gone to the bottom with all her crew but + one. This man (as I heard afterwards) had been sitting in the stern as a + passenger, while the rest were on the benches rowing. At the moment of the + blow, the stern had been thrown into the air, and the man (having his + hands free, and for all he was encumbered with a frieze overcoat that came + below his knees) had leaped up and caught hold of the brig’s bowsprit. It + showed he had luck and much agility and unusual strength, that he should + have thus saved himself from such a pass. And yet, when the captain + brought him into the round-house, and I set eyes on him for the first + time, he looked as cool as I did. + </p> + <p> + He was smallish in stature, but well set and as nimble as a goat; his face + was of a good open expression, but sunburnt very dark, and heavily + freckled and pitted with the small-pox; his eyes were unusually light and + had a kind of dancing madness in them, that was both engaging and + alarming; and when he took off his great-coat, he laid a pair of fine + silver-mounted pistols on the table, and I saw that he was belted with a + great sword. His manners, besides, were elegant, and he pledged the + captain handsomely. Altogether I thought of him, at the first sight, that + here was a man I would rather call my friend than my enemy. + </p> + <p> + The captain, too, was taking his observations, but rather of the man’s + clothes than his person. And to be sure, as soon as he had taken off the + great-coat, he showed forth mighty fine for the round-house of a merchant + brig: having a hat with feathers, a red waistcoat, breeches of black + plush, and a blue coat with silver buttons and handsome silver lace; + costly clothes, though somewhat spoiled with the fog and being slept in. + </p> + <p> + “I’m vexed, sir, about the boat,” says the captain. + </p> + <p> + “There are some pretty men gone to the bottom,” said the stranger, “that I + would rather see on the dry land again than half a score of boats.” + </p> + <p> + “Friends of yours?” said Hoseason. + </p> + <p> + “You have none such friends in your country,” was the reply. “They would + have died for me like dogs.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said the captain, still watching him, “there are more men in + the world than boats to put them in.” + </p> + <p> + “And that’s true, too,” cried the other, “and ye seem to be a gentleman of + great penetration.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been in France, sir,” says the captain, so that it was plain he + meant more by the words than showed upon the face of them. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” says the other, “and so has many a pretty man, for the matter + of that.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt, sir,” says the captain, “and fine coats.” + </p> + <p> + “Oho!” says the stranger, “is that how the wind sets?” And he laid his + hand quickly on his pistols. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be hasty,” said the captain. “Don’t do a mischief before ye see the + need of it. Ye’ve a French soldier’s coat upon your back and a Scotch + tongue in your head, to be sure; but so has many an honest fellow in these + days, and I dare say none the worse of it.” + </p> + <p> + “So?” said the gentleman in the fine coat: “are ye of the honest party?” + (meaning, Was he a Jacobite? for each side, in these sort of civil broils, + takes the name of honesty for its own). + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir,” replied the captain, “I am a true-blue Protestant, and I thank + God for it.” (It was the first word of any religion I had ever heard from + him, but I learnt afterwards he was a great church-goer while on shore.) + “But, for all that,” says he, “I can be sorry to see another man with his + back to the wall.” + </p> + <p> + “Can ye so, indeed?” asked the Jacobite. “Well, sir, to be quite plain + with ye, I am one of those honest gentlemen that were in trouble about the + years forty-five and six; and (to be still quite plain with ye) if I got + into the hands of any of the red-coated gentry, it’s like it would go hard + with me. Now, sir, I was for France; and there was a French ship cruising + here to pick me up; but she gave us the go-by in the fog—as I wish + from the heart that ye had done yoursel’! And the best that I can say is + this: If ye can set me ashore where I was going, I have that upon me will + reward you highly for your trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “In France?” says the captain. “No, sir; that I cannot do. But where ye + come from—we might talk of that.” + </p> + <p> + And then, unhappily, he observed me standing in my corner, and packed me + off to the galley to get supper for the gentleman. I lost no time, I + promise you; and when I came back into the round-house, I found the + gentleman had taken a money-belt from about his waist, and poured out a + guinea or two upon the table. The captain was looking at the guineas, and + then at the belt, and then at the gentleman’s face; and I thought he + seemed excited. + </p> + <p> + “Half of it,” he cried, “and I’m your man!” + </p> + <p> + The other swept back the guineas into the belt, and put it on again under + his waistcoat. “I have told ye sir,” said he, “that not one doit of it + belongs to me. It belongs to my chieftain,” and here he touched his hat, + “and while I would be but a silly messenger to grudge some of it that the + rest might come safe, I should show myself a hound indeed if I bought my + own carcase any too dear. Thirty guineas on the sea-side, or sixty if ye + set me on the Linnhe Loch. Take it, if ye will; if not, ye can do your + worst.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Hoseason. “And if I give ye over to the soldiers?” + </p> + <p> + “Ye would make a fool’s bargain,” said the other. “My chief, let me tell + you, sir, is forfeited, like every honest man in Scotland. His estate is + in the hands of the man they call King George; and it is his officers that + collect the rents, or try to collect them. But for the honour of Scotland, + the poor tenant bodies take a thought upon their chief lying in exile; and + this money is a part of that very rent for which King George is looking. + Now, sir, ye seem to me to be a man that understands things: bring this + money within the reach of Government, and how much of it’ll come to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Little enough, to be sure,” said Hoseason; and then, “if they knew,” he + added, drily. “But I think, if I was to try, that I could hold my tongue + about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but I’ll begowk* ye there!” cried the gentleman. “Play me false, and + I’ll play you cunning. If a hand is laid upon me, they shall ken what + money it is.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Befool. +</pre> + <p> + “Well,” returned the captain, “what must be must. Sixty guineas, and done. + Here’s my hand upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “And here’s mine,” said the other. + </p> + <p> + And thereupon the captain went out (rather hurriedly, I thought), and left + me alone in the round-house with the stranger. + </p> + <p> + At that period (so soon after the forty-five) there were many exiled + gentlemen coming back at the peril of their lives, either to see their + friends or to collect a little money; and as for the Highland chiefs that + had been forfeited, it was a common matter of talk how their tenants would + stint themselves to send them money, and their clansmen outface the + soldiery to get it in, and run the gauntlet of our great navy to carry it + across. All this I had, of course, heard tell of; and now I had a man + under my eyes whose life was forfeit on all these counts and upon one + more, for he was not only a rebel and a smuggler of rents, but had taken + service with King Louis of France. And as if all this were not enough, he + had a belt full of golden guineas round his loins. Whatever my opinions, I + could not look on such a man without a lively interest. + </p> + <p> + “And so you’re a Jacobite?” said I, as I set meat before him. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said he, beginning to eat. “And you, by your long face, should be a + Whig?” * + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Whig or Whigamore was the cant name for those who were + loyal to King George. +</pre> + <p> + “Betwixt and between,” said I, not to annoy him; for indeed I was as good + a Whig as Mr. Campbell could make me. + </p> + <p> + “And that’s naething,” said he. “But I’m saying, Mr. Betwixt-and-Between,” + he added, “this bottle of yours is dry; and it’s hard if I’m to pay sixty + guineas and be grudged a dram upon the back of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go and ask for the key,” said I, and stepped on deck. + </p> + <p> + The fog was as close as ever, but the swell almost down. They had laid the + brig to, not knowing precisely where they were, and the wind (what little + there was of it) not serving well for their true course. Some of the hands + were still hearkening for breakers; but the captain and the two officers + were in the waist with their heads together. It struck me (I don’t know + why) that they were after no good; and the first word I heard, as I drew + softly near, more than confirmed me. + </p> + <p> + It was Mr. Riach, crying out as if upon a sudden thought: “Couldn’t we + wile him out of the round-house?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s better where he is,” returned Hoseason; “he hasn’t room to use his + sword.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that’s true,” said Riach; “but he’s hard to come at.” + </p> + <p> + “Hut!” said Hoseason. “We can get the man in talk, one upon each side, and + pin him by the two arms; or if that’ll not hold, sir, we can make a run by + both the doors and get him under hand before he has the time to draw.” + </p> + <p> + At this hearing, I was seized with both fear and anger at these + treacherous, greedy, bloody men that I sailed with. My first mind was to + run away; my second was bolder. + </p> + <p> + “Captain,” said I, “the gentleman is seeking a dram, and the bottle’s out. + Will you give me the key?” + </p> + <p> + They all started and turned about. + </p> + <p> + “Why, here’s our chance to get the firearms!” + </p> + <p> + Riach cried; and then to me: “Hark ye, David,” he said, “do ye ken where + the pistols are?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay,” put in Hoseason. “David kens; David’s a good lad. Ye see, David + my man, yon wild Hielandman is a danger to the ship, besides being a rank + foe to King George, God bless him!” + </p> + <p> + I had never been so be-Davided since I came on board: but I said Yes, as + if all I heard were quite natural. + </p> + <p> + “The trouble is,” resumed the captain, “that all our firelocks, great and + little, are in the round-house under this man’s nose; likewise the powder. + Now, if I, or one of the officers, was to go in and take them, he would + fall to thinking. But a lad like you, David, might snap up a horn and a + pistol or two without remark. And if ye can do it cleverly, I’ll bear it + in mind when it’ll be good for you to have friends; and that’s when we + come to Carolina.” + </p> + <p> + Here Mr. Riach whispered him a little. + </p> + <p> + “Very right, sir,” said the captain; and then to myself: “And see here, + David, yon man has a beltful of gold, and I give you my word that you + shall have your fingers in it.” + </p> + <p> + I told him I would do as he wished, though indeed I had scarce breath to + speak with; and upon that he gave me the key of the spirit locker, and I + began to go slowly back to the round-house. What was I to do? They were + dogs and thieves; they had stolen me from my own country; they had killed + poor Ransome; and was I to hold the candle to another murder? But then, + upon the other hand, there was the fear of death very plain before me; for + what could a boy and a man, if they were as brave as lions, against a + whole ship’s company? + </p> + <p> + I was still arguing it back and forth, and getting no great clearness, + when I came into the round-house and saw the Jacobite eating his supper + under the lamp; and at that my mind was made up all in a moment. I have no + credit by it; it was by no choice of mine, but as if by compulsion, that I + walked right up to the table and put my hand on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Do ye want to be killed?” said I. He sprang to his feet, and looked a + question at me as clear as if he had spoken. + </p> + <p> + “O!” cried I, “they’re all murderers here; it’s a ship full of them! + They’ve murdered a boy already. Now it’s you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay,” said he; “but they have n’t got me yet.” And then looking at me + curiously, “Will ye stand with me?” + </p> + <p> + “That will I!” said I. “I am no thief, nor yet murderer. I’ll stand by + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then,” said he, “what’s your name?” + </p> + <p> + “David Balfour,” said I; and then, thinking that a man with so fine a coat + must like fine people, I added for the first time, “of Shaws.” + </p> + <p> + It never occurred to him to doubt me, for a Highlander is used to see + great gentlefolk in great poverty; but as he had no estate of his own, my + words nettled a very childish vanity he had. + </p> + <p> + “My name is Stewart,” he said, drawing himself up. “Alan Breck, they call + me. A king’s name is good enough for me, though I bear it plain and have + the name of no farm-midden to clap to the hind-end of it.” + </p> + <p> + And having administered this rebuke, as though it were something of a + chief importance, he turned to examine our defences. + </p> + <p> + The round-house was built very strong, to support the breaching of the + seas. Of its five apertures, only the skylight and the two doors were + large enough for the passage of a man. The doors, besides, could be drawn + close: they were of stout oak, and ran in grooves, and were fitted with + hooks to keep them either shut or open, as the need arose. The one that + was already shut I secured in this fashion; but when I was proceeding to + slide to the other, Alan stopped me. + </p> + <p> + “David,” said he—“for I cannae bring to mind the name of your landed + estate, and so will make so bold as to call you David—that door, + being open, is the best part of my defences.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be yet better shut,” says I. + </p> + <p> + “Not so, David,” says he. “Ye see, I have but one face; but so long as + that door is open and my face to it, the best part of my enemies will be + in front of me, where I would aye wish to find them.” + </p> + <p> + Then he gave me from the rack a cutlass (of which there were a few besides + the firearms), choosing it with great care, shaking his head and saying he + had never in all his life seen poorer weapons; and next he set me down to + the table with a powder-horn, a bag of bullets and all the pistols, which + he bade me charge. + </p> + <p> + “And that will be better work, let me tell you,” said he, “for a gentleman + of decent birth, than scraping plates and raxing* drams to a wheen tarry + sailors.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Reaching. +</pre> + <p> + Thereupon he stood up in the midst with his face to the door, and drawing + his great sword, made trial of the room he had to wield it in. + </p> + <p> + “I must stick to the point,” he said, shaking his head; “and that’s a + pity, too. It doesn’t set my genius, which is all for the upper guard. + And, now,” said he, “do you keep on charging the pistols, and give heed to + me.” + </p> + <p> + I told him I would listen closely. My chest was tight, my mouth dry, the + light dark to my eyes; the thought of the numbers that were soon to leap + in upon us kept my heart in a flutter: and the sea, which I heard washing + round the brig, and where I thought my dead body would be cast ere + morning, ran in my mind strangely. + </p> + <p> + “First of all,” said he, “how many are against us?” + </p> + <p> + I reckoned them up; and such was the hurry of my mind, I had to cast the + numbers twice. “Fifteen,” said I. + </p> + <p> + Alan whistled. “Well,” said he, “that can’t be cured. And now follow me. + It is my part to keep this door, where I look for the main battle. In + that, ye have no hand. And mind and dinnae fire to this side unless they + get me down; for I would rather have ten foes in front of me than one + friend like you cracking pistols at my back.” + </p> + <p> + I told him, indeed I was no great shot. + </p> + <p> + “And that’s very bravely said,” he cried, in a great admiration of my + candour. “There’s many a pretty gentleman that wouldnae dare to say it.” + </p> + <p> + “But then, sir,” said I, “there is the door behind you, which they may + perhaps break in.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said he, “and that is a part of your work. No sooner the pistols + charged, than ye must climb up into yon bed where ye’re handy at the + window; and if they lift hand against the door, ye’re to shoot. But that’s + not all. Let’s make a bit of a soldier of ye, David. What else have ye to + guard?” + </p> + <p> + “There’s the skylight,” said I. “But indeed, Mr. Stewart, I would need to + have eyes upon both sides to keep the two of them; for when my face is at + the one, my back is to the other.” + </p> + <p> + “And that’s very true,” said Alan. “But have ye no ears to your head?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure!” cried I. “I must hear the bursting of the glass!” + </p> + <p> + “Ye have some rudiments of sense,” said Alan, grimly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0106m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0106m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0106.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9106m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9106m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9106.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + ut now our time of truce was come to an end. Those on deck had waited for + my coming till they grew impatient; and scarce had Alan spoken, when the + captain showed face in the open door. + </p> + <p> + “Stand!” cried Alan, and pointed his sword at him. The captain stood, + indeed; but he neither winced nor drew back a foot. + </p> + <p> + “A naked sword?” says he. “This is a strange return for hospitality.” + </p> + <p> + “Do ye see me?” said Alan. “I am come of kings; I bear a king’s name. My + badge is the oak. Do ye see my sword? It has slashed the heads off mair + Whigamores than you have toes upon your feet. Call up your vermin to your + back, sir, and fall on! The sooner the clash begins, the sooner ye’ll + taste this steel throughout your vitals.” + </p> + <p> + The captain said nothing to Alan, but he looked over at me with an ugly + look. “David,” said he, “I’ll mind this;” and the sound of his voice went + through me with a jar. + </p> + <p> + Next moment he was gone. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Alan, “let your hand keep your head, for the grip is + coming.” + </p> + <p> + Alan drew a dirk, which he held in his left hand in case they should run + in under his sword. I, on my part, clambered up into the berth with an + armful of pistols and something of a heavy heart, and set open the window + where I was to watch. It was a small part of the deck that I could + overlook, but enough for our purpose. The sea had gone down, and the wind + was steady and kept the sails quiet; so that there was a great stillness + in the ship, in which I made sure I heard the sound of muttering voices. A + little after, and there came a clash of steel upon the deck, by which I + knew they were dealing out the cutlasses and one had been let fall; and + after that, silence again. + </p> + <p> + I do not know if I was what you call afraid; but my heart beat like a + bird’s, both quick and little; and there was a dimness came before my eyes + which I continually rubbed away, and which continually returned. As for + hope, I had none; but only a darkness of despair and a sort of anger + against all the world that made me long to sell my life as dear as I was + able. I tried to pray, I remember, but that same hurry of my mind, like a + man running, would not suffer me to think upon the words; and my chief + wish was to have the thing begin and be done with it. + </p> + <p> + It came all of a sudden when it did, with a rush of feet and a roar, and + then a shout from Alan, and a sound of blows and some one crying out as if + hurt. I looked back over my shoulder, and saw Mr. Shuan in the doorway, + crossing blades with Alan. + </p> + <p> + “That’s him that killed the boy!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “Look to your window!” said Alan; and as I turned back to my place, I saw + him pass his sword through the mate’s body. + </p> + <p> + It was none too soon for me to look to my own part; for my head was scarce + back at the window, before five men, carrying a spare yard for a + battering-ram, ran past me and took post to drive the door in. I had never + fired with a pistol in my life, and not often with a gun; far less against + a fellow-creature. But it was now or never; and just as they swang the + yard, I cried out: “Take that!” and shot into their midst. + </p> + <p> + I must have hit one of them, for he sang out and gave back a step, and the + rest stopped as if a little disconcerted. Before they had time to recover, + I sent another ball over their heads; and at my third shot (which went as + wide as the second) the whole party threw down the yard and ran for it. + </p> + <p> + Then I looked round again into the deck-house. The whole place was full of + the smoke of my own firing, just as my ears seemed to be burst with the + noise of the shots. But there was Alan, standing as before; only now his + sword was running blood to the hilt, and himself so swelled with triumph + and fallen into so fine an attitude, that he looked to be invincible. + Right before him on the floor was Mr. Shuan, on his hands and knees; the + blood was pouring from his mouth, and he was sinking slowly lower, with a + terrible, white face; and just as I looked, some of those from behind + caught hold of him by the heels and dragged him bodily out of the + round-house. I believe he died as they were doing it. + </p> + <p> + “There’s one of your Whigs for ye!” cried Alan; and then turning to me, he + asked if I had done much execution. + </p> + <p> + I told him I had winged one, and thought it was the captain. + </p> + <p> + “And I’ve settled two,” says he. “No, there’s not enough blood let; + they’ll be back again. To your watch, David. This was but a dram before + meat.” + </p> + <p> + I settled back to my place, re-charging the three pistols I had fired, and + keeping watch with both eye and ear. + </p> + <p> + Our enemies were disputing not far off upon the deck, and that so loudly + that I could hear a word or two above the washing of the seas. + </p> + <p> + “It was Shuan bauchled* it,” I heard one say. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Bungled. +</pre> + <p> + And another answered him with a “Wheesht, man! He’s paid the piper.” + </p> + <p> + After that the voices fell again into the same muttering as before. Only + now, one person spoke most of the time, as though laying down a plan, and + first one and then another answered him briefly, like men taking orders. + By this, I made sure they were coming on again, and told Alan. + </p> + <p> + “It’s what we have to pray for,” said he. “Unless we can give them a good + distaste of us, and done with it, there’ll be nae sleep for either you or + me. But this time, mind, they’ll be in earnest.” + </p> + <p> + By this, my pistols were ready, and there was nothing to do but listen and + wait. While the brush lasted, I had not the time to think if I was + frighted; but now, when all was still again, my mind ran upon nothing + else. The thought of the sharp swords and the cold steel was strong in me; + and presently, when I began to hear stealthy steps and a brushing of men’s + clothes against the round-house wall, and knew they were taking their + places in the dark, I could have found it in my mind to cry out aloud. + </p> + <p> + All this was upon Alan’s side; and I had begun to think my share of the + fight was at an end, when I heard some one drop softly on the roof above + me. + </p> + <p> + Then there came a single call on the sea-pipe, and that was the signal. A + knot of them made one rush of it, cutlass in hand, against the door; and + at the same moment, the glass of the skylight was dashed in a thousand + pieces, and a man leaped through and landed on the floor. Before he got + his feet, I had clapped a pistol to his back, and might have shot him, + too; only at the touch of him (and him alive) my whole flesh misgave me, + and I could no more pull the trigger than I could have flown. + </p> + <p> + He had dropped his cutlass as he jumped, and when he felt the pistol, + whipped straight round and laid hold of me, roaring out an oath; and at + that either my courage came again, or I grew so much afraid as came to the + same thing; for I gave a shriek and shot him in the midst of the body. He + gave the most horrible, ugly groan and fell to the floor. The foot of a + second fellow, whose legs were dangling through the skylight, struck me at + the same time upon the head; and at that I snatched another pistol and + shot this one through the thigh, so that he slipped through and tumbled in + a lump on his companion’s body. There was no talk of missing, any more + than there was time to aim; I clapped the muzzle to the very place and + fired. + </p> + <p> + I might have stood and stared at them for long, but I heard Alan shout as + if for help, and that brought me to my senses. + </p> + <p> + He had kept the door so long; but one of the seamen, while he was engaged + with others, had run in under his guard and caught him about the body. + Alan was dirking him with his left hand, but the fellow clung like a + leech. Another had broken in and had his cutlass raised. The door was + thronged with their faces. I thought we were lost, and catching up my + cutlass, fell on them in flank. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0111m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0111m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0111.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + But I had not time to be of help. The wrestler dropped at last; and Alan, + leaping back to get his distance, ran upon the others like a bull, roaring + as he went. They broke before him like water, turning, and running, and + falling one against another in their haste. The sword in his hands flashed + like quicksilver into the huddle of our fleeing enemies; and at every + flash there came the scream of a man hurt. I was still thinking we were + lost, when lo! they were all gone, and Alan was driving them along the + deck as a sheep-dog chases sheep. + </p> + <p> + Yet he was no sooner out than he was back again, being as cautious as he + was brave; and meanwhile the seamen continued running and crying out as if + he was still behind them; and we heard them tumble one upon another into + the forecastle, and clap-to the hatch upon the top. + </p> + <p> + The round-house was like a shambles; three were dead inside, another lay + in his death agony across the threshold; and there were Alan and I + victorious and unhurt. + </p> + <p> + He came up to me with open arms. “Come to my arms!” he cried, and embraced + and kissed me hard upon both cheeks. “David,” said he, “I love you like a + brother. And O, man,” he cried in a kind of ecstasy, “am I no a bonny + fighter?” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he turned to the four enemies, passed his sword clean through + each of them, and tumbled them out of doors one after the other. As he did + so, he kept humming and singing and whistling to himself, like a man + trying to recall an air; only what HE was trying was to make one. All the + while, the flush was in his face, and his eyes were as bright as a + five-year-old child’s with a new toy. And presently he sat down upon the + table, sword in hand; the air that he was making all the time began to run + a little clearer, and then clearer still; and then out he burst with a + great voice into a Gaelic song. + </p> + <p> + I have translated it here, not in verse (of which I have no skill) but at + least in the king’s English. + </p> + <p> + He sang it often afterwards, and the thing became popular; so that I have + heard it and had it explained to me, many’s the time. + </p> + <p> + “This is the song of the sword of Alan; The smith made it, The fire set + it; Now it shines in the hand of Alan Breck. + </p> + <p> + “Their eyes were many and bright, Swift were they to behold, Many the + hands they guided: The sword was alone. + </p> + <p> + “The dun deer troop over the hill, They are many, the hill is one; The dun + deer vanish, The hill remains. + </p> + <p> + “Come to me from the hills of heather, Come from the isles of the sea. O + far-beholding eagles, Here is your meat.” + </p> + <p> + Now this song which he made (both words and music) in the hour of our + victory, is something less than just to me, who stood beside him in the + tussle. Mr. Shuan and five more were either killed outright or thoroughly + disabled; but of these, two fell by my hand, the two that came by the + skylight. Four more were hurt, and of that number, one (and he not the + least important) got his hurt from me. So that, altogether, I did my fair + share both of the killing and the wounding, and might have claimed a place + in Alan’s verses. But poets have to think upon their rhymes; and in good + prose talk, Alan always did me more than justice. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile, I was innocent of any wrong being done me. For not only + I knew no word of the Gaelic; but what with the long suspense of the + waiting, and the scurry and strain of our two spirts of fighting, and more + than all, the horror I had of some of my own share in it, the thing was no + sooner over than I was glad to stagger to a seat. There was that tightness + on my chest that I could hardly breathe; the thought of the two men I had + shot sat upon me like a nightmare; and all upon a sudden, and before I had + a guess of what was coming, I began to sob and cry like any child. + </p> + <p> + Alan clapped my shoulder, and said I was a brave lad and wanted nothing + but a sleep. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll take the first watch,” said he. “Ye’ve done well by me, David, first + and last; and I wouldn’t lose you for all Appin—no, nor for + Breadalbane.” + </p> + <p> + So I made up my bed on the floor; and he took the first spell, pistol in + hand and sword on knee, three hours by the captain’s watch upon the wall. + Then he roused me up, and I took my turn of three hours; before the end of + which it was broad day, and a very quiet morning, with a smooth, rolling + sea that tossed the ship and made the blood run to and fro on the + round-house floor, and a heavy rain that drummed upon the roof. All my + watch there was nothing stirring; and by the banging of the helm, I knew + they had even no one at the tiller. Indeed (as I learned afterwards) there + were so many of them hurt or dead, and the rest in so ill a temper, that + Mr. Riach and the captain had to take turn and turn like Alan and me, or + the brig might have gone ashore and nobody the wiser. It was a mercy the + night had fallen so still, for the wind had gone down as soon as the rain + began. Even as it was, I judged by the wailing of a great number of gulls + that went crying and fishing round the ship, that she must have drifted + pretty near the coast or one of the islands of the Hebrides; and at last, + looking out of the door of the round-house, I saw the great stone hills of + Skye on the right hand, and, a little more astern, the strange isle of + Rum. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0116m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0116m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0116.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9116m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9116m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9116.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + lan and I sat down to breakfast about six of the clock. The floor was + covered with broken glass and in a horrid mess of blood, which took away + my hunger. In all other ways we were in a situation not only agreeable but + merry; having ousted the officers from their own cabin, and having at + command all the drink in the ship—both wine and spirits—and + all the dainty part of what was eatable, such as the pickles and the fine + sort of bread. This, of itself, was enough to set us in good humour, but + the richest part of it was this, that the two thirstiest men that ever + came out of Scotland (Mr. Shuan being dead) were now shut in the fore-part + of the ship and condemned to what they hated most—cold water. + </p> + <p> + “And depend upon it,” Alan said, “we shall hear more of them ere long. Ye + may keep a man from the fighting, but never from his bottle.” + </p> + <p> + We made good company for each other. Alan, indeed, expressed himself most + lovingly; and taking a knife from the table, cut me off one of the silver + buttons from his coat. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0117m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0117m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0117.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + “I had them,” says he, “from my father, Duncan Stewart; and now give ye + one of them to be a keepsake for last night’s work. And wherever ye go and + show that button, the friends of Alan Breck will come around you.” + </p> + <p> + He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies; and + indeed, much as I admired his courage, I was always in danger of smiling + at his vanity: in danger, I say, for had I not kept my countenance, I + would be afraid to think what a quarrel might have followed. + </p> + <p> + As soon as we were through with our meal he rummaged in the captain’s + locker till he found a clothes-brush; and then taking off his coat, began + to visit his suit and brush away the stains, with such care and labour as + I supposed to have been only usual with women. To be sure, he had no + other; and, besides (as he said), it belonged to a king and so behoved to + be royally looked after. + </p> + <p> + For all that, when I saw what care he took to pluck out the threads where + the button had been cut away, I put a higher value on his gift. + </p> + <p> + He was still so engaged when we were hailed by Mr. Riach from the deck, + asking for a parley; and I, climbing through the skylight and sitting on + the edge of it, pistol in hand and with a bold front, though inwardly in + fear of broken glass, hailed him back again and bade him speak out. He + came to the edge of the round-house, and stood on a coil of rope, so that + his chin was on a level with the roof; and we looked at each other awhile + in silence. Mr. Riach, as I do not think he had been very forward in the + battle, so he had got off with nothing worse than a blow upon the cheek: + but he looked out of heart and very weary, having been all night afoot, + either standing watch or doctoring the wounded. + </p> + <p> + “This is a bad job,” said he at last, shaking his head. + </p> + <p> + “It was none of our choosing,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “The captain,” says he, “would like to speak with your friend. They might + speak at the window.” + </p> + <p> + “And how do we know what treachery he means?” cried I. + </p> + <p> + “He means none, David,” returned Mr. Riach, “and if he did, I’ll tell ye + the honest truth, we couldnae get the men to follow.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that so?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell ye more than that,” said he. “It’s not only the men; it’s me. + I’m frich’ened, Davie.” And he smiled across at me. “No,” he continued, + “what we want is to be shut of him.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon I consulted with Alan, and the parley was agreed to and parole + given upon either side; but this was not the whole of Mr. Riach’s + business, and he now begged me for a dram with such instancy and such + reminders of his former kindness, that at last I handed him a pannikin + with about a gill of brandy. He drank a part, and then carried the rest + down upon the deck, to share it (I suppose) with his superior. + </p> + <p> + A little after, the captain came (as was agreed) to one of the windows, + and stood there in the rain, with his arm in a sling, and looking stern + and pale, and so old that my heart smote me for having fired upon him. + </p> + <p> + Alan at once held a pistol in his face. + </p> + <p> + “Put that thing up!” said the captain. “Have I not passed my word, sir? or + do ye seek to affront me?” + </p> + <p> + “Captain,” says Alan, “I doubt your word is a breakable. Last night ye + haggled and argle-bargled like an apple-wife; and then passed me your + word, and gave me your hand to back it; and ye ken very well what was the + upshot. Be damned to your word!” says he. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, sir,” said the captain, “ye’ll get little good by swearing.” + (And truly that was a fault of which the captain was quite free.) “But we + have other things to speak,” he continued, bitterly. “Ye’ve made a sore + hash of my brig; I haven’t hands enough left to work her; and my first + officer (whom I could ill spare) has got your sword throughout his vitals, + and passed without speech. There is nothing left me, sir, but to put back + into the port of Glasgow after hands; and there (by your leave) ye will + find them that are better able to talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay?” said Alan; “and faith, I’ll have a talk with them mysel’! Unless + there’s naebody speaks English in that town, I have a bonny tale for them. + Fifteen tarry sailors upon the one side, and a man and a halfling boy upon + the other! O, man, it’s peetiful!” + </p> + <p> + Hoseason flushed red. + </p> + <p> + “No,” continued Alan, “that’ll no do. Ye’ll just have to set me ashore as + we agreed.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Hoseason, “but my first officer is dead—ye ken best how. + There’s none of the rest of us acquaint with this coast, sir; and it’s one + very dangerous to ships.” + </p> + <p> + “I give ye your choice,” says Alan. “Set me on dry ground in Appin, or + Ardgour, or in Morven, or Arisaig, or Morar; or, in brief, where ye + please, within thirty miles of my own country; except in a country of the + Campbells. That’s a broad target. If ye miss that, ye must be as feckless + at the sailoring as I have found ye at the fighting. Why, my poor country + people in their bit cobles* pass from island to island in all weathers, + ay, and by night too, for the matter of that.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Coble: a small boat used in fishing. +</pre> + <p> + “A coble’s not a ship, sir,” said the captain. “It has nae draught of + water.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, to Glasgow if ye list!” says Alan. “We’ll have the laugh of + ye at the least.” + </p> + <p> + “My mind runs little upon laughing,” said the captain. “But all this will + cost money, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” says Alan, “I am nae weathercock. Thirty guineas, if ye land + me on the sea-side; and sixty, if ye put me in the Linnhe Loch.” + </p> + <p> + “But see, sir, where we lie, we are but a few hours’ sail from + Ardnamurchan,” said Hoseason. “Give me sixty, and I’ll set ye there.” + </p> + <p> + “And I’m to wear my brogues and run jeopardy of the red-coats to please + you?” cries Alan. “No, sir; if ye want sixty guineas earn them, and set me + in my own country.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s to risk the brig, sir,” said the captain, “and your own lives along + with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Take it or want it,” says Alan. + </p> + <p> + “Could ye pilot us at all?” asked the captain, who was frowning to + himself. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it’s doubtful,” said Alan. “I’m more of a fighting man (as ye have + seen for yoursel’) than a sailor-man. But I have been often enough picked + up and set down upon this coast, and should ken something of the lie of + it.” + </p> + <p> + The captain shook his head, still frowning. + </p> + <p> + “If I had lost less money on this unchancy cruise,” says he, “I would see + you in a rope’s end before I risked my brig, sir. But be it as ye will. As + soon as I get a slant of wind (and there’s some coming, or I’m the more + mistaken) I’ll put it in hand. But there’s one thing more. We may meet in + with a king’s ship and she may lay us aboard, sir, with no blame of mine: + they keep the cruisers thick upon this coast, ye ken who for. Now, sir, if + that was to befall, ye might leave the money.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain,” says Alan, “if ye see a pennant, it shall be your part to run + away. And now, as I hear you’re a little short of brandy in the fore-part, + I’ll offer ye a change: a bottle of brandy against two buckets of water.” + </p> + <p> + That was the last clause of the treaty, and was duly executed on both + sides; so that Alan and I could at last wash out the round-house and be + quit of the memorials of those whom we had slain, and the captain and Mr. + Riach could be happy again in their own way, the name of which was drink. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0123m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0123m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0123.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + I HEAR OF THE “RED FOX” + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9123m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9123m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9123.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + efore we had done cleaning out the round-house, a breeze sprang up from a + little to the east of north. This blew off the rain and brought out the + sun. + </p> + <p> + And here I must explain; and the reader would do well to look at a map. On + the day when the fog fell and we ran down Alan’s boat, we had been running + through the Little Minch. At dawn after the battle, we lay becalmed to the + east of the Isle of Canna or between that and Isle Eriska in the chain of + the Long Island. Now to get from there to the Linnhe Loch, the straight + course was through the narrows of the Sound of Mull. But the captain had + no chart; he was afraid to trust his brig so deep among the islands; and + the wind serving well, he preferred to go by west of Tiree and come up + under the southern coast of the great Isle of Mull. + </p> + <p> + All day the breeze held in the same point, and rather freshened than died + down; and towards afternoon, a swell began to set in from round the outer + Hebrides. Our course, to go round about the inner isles, was to the west + of south, so that at first we had this swell upon our beam, and were much + rolled about. But after nightfall, when we had turned the end of Tiree and + began to head more to the east, the sea came right astern. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0125m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0125m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0125.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + Meanwhile, the early part of the day, before the swell came up, was very + pleasant; sailing, as we were, in a bright sunshine and with many + mountainous islands upon different sides. Alan and I sat in the + round-house with the doors open on each side (the wind being straight + astern), and smoked a pipe or two of the captain’s fine tobacco. It was at + this time we heard each other’s stories, which was the more important to + me, as I gained some knowledge of that wild Highland country on which I + was so soon to land. In those days, so close on the back of the great + rebellion, it was needful a man should know what he was doing when he went + upon the heather. + </p> + <p> + It was I that showed the example, telling him all my misfortune; which he + heard with great good-nature. Only, when I came to mention that good + friend of mine, Mr. Campbell the minister, Alan fired up and cried out + that he hated all that were of that name. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said I, “he is a man you should be proud to give your hand to.” + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing I would help a Campbell to,” says he, “unless it was a + leaden bullet. I would hunt all of that name like blackcocks. If I lay + dying, I would crawl upon my knees to my chamber window for a shot at + one.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Alan,” I cried, “what ails ye at the Campbells?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” says he, “ye ken very well that I am an Appin Stewart, and the + Campbells have long harried and wasted those of my name; ay, and got lands + of us by treachery—but never with the sword,” he cried loudly, and + with the word brought down his fist upon the table. But I paid the less + attention to this, for I knew it was usually said by those who have the + underhand. “There’s more than that,” he continued, “and all in the same + story: lying words, lying papers, tricks fit for a peddler, and the show + of what’s legal over all, to make a man the more angry.” + </p> + <p> + “You that are so wasteful of your buttons,” said I, “I can hardly think + you would be a good judge of business.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” says he, falling again to smiling, “I got my wastefulness from the + same man I got the buttons from; and that was my poor father, Duncan + Stewart, grace be to him! He was the prettiest man of his kindred; and the + best swordsman in the Hielands, David, and that is the same as to say, in + all the world, I should ken, for it was him that taught me. He was in the + Black Watch, when first it was mustered; and, like other gentlemen + privates, had a gillie at his back to carry his firelock for him on the + march. Well, the King, it appears, was wishful to see Hieland + swordsmanship; and my father and three more were chosen out and sent to + London town, to let him see it at the best. So they were had into the + palace and showed the whole art of the sword for two hours at a stretch, + before King George and Queen Carline, and the Butcher Cumberland, and many + more of whom I havenae mind. And when they were through, the King (for all + he was a rank usurper) spoke them fair and gave each man three guineas in + his hand. Now, as they were going out of the palace, they had a porter’s + lodge to go by; and it came in on my father, as he was perhaps the first + private Hieland gentleman that had ever gone by that door, it was right he + should give the poor porter a proper notion of their quality. So he gives + the King’s three guineas into the man’s hand, as if it was his common + custom; the three others that came behind him did the same; and there they + were on the street, never a penny the better for their pains. Some say it + was one, that was the first to fee the King’s porter; and some say it was + another; but the truth of it is, that it was Duncan Stewart, as I am + willing to prove with either sword or pistol. And that was the father that + I had, God rest him!” + </p> + <p> + “I think he was not the man to leave you rich,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “And that’s true,” said Alan. “He left me my breeks to cover me, and + little besides. And that was how I came to enlist, which was a black spot + upon my character at the best of times, and would still be a sore job for + me if I fell among the red-coats.” + </p> + <p> + “What,” cried I, “were you in the English army?” + </p> + <p> + “That was I,” said Alan. “But I deserted to the right side at Preston Pans—and + that’s some comfort.” + </p> + <p> + I could scarcely share this view: holding desertion under arms for an + unpardonable fault in honour. But for all I was so young, I was wiser than + say my thought. “Dear, dear,” says I, “the punishment is death.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay” said he, “if they got hands on me, it would be a short shrift and a + lang tow for Alan! But I have the King of France’s commission in my + pocket, which would aye be some protection.” + </p> + <p> + “I misdoubt it much,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I have doubts mysel’,” said Alan drily. + </p> + <p> + “And, good heaven, man,” cried I, “you that are a condemned rebel, and a + deserter, and a man of the French King’s—what tempts ye back into + this country? It’s a braving of Providence.” + </p> + <p> + “Tut!” says Alan, “I have been back every year since forty-six!” + </p> + <p> + “And what brings ye, man?” cried I. + </p> + <p> + “Well, ye see, I weary for my friends and country,” said he. “France is a + braw place, nae doubt; but I weary for the heather and the deer. And then + I have bit things that I attend to. Whiles I pick up a few lads to serve + the King of France: recruits, ye see; and that’s aye a little money. But + the heart of the matter is the business of my chief, Ardshiel.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought they called your chief Appin,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but Ardshiel is the captain of the clan,” said he, which scarcely + cleared my mind. “Ye see, David, he that was all his life so great a man, + and come of the blood and bearing the name of kings, is now brought down + to live in a French town like a poor and private person. He that had four + hundred swords at his whistle, I have seen, with these eyes of mine, + buying butter in the market-place, and taking it home in a kale-leaf. This + is not only a pain but a disgrace to us of his family and clan. There are + the bairns forby, the children and the hope of Appin, that must be learned + their letters and how to hold a sword, in that far country. Now, the + tenants of Appin have to pay a rent to King George; but their hearts are + staunch, they are true to their chief; and what with love and a bit of + pressure, and maybe a threat or two, the poor folk scrape up a second rent + for Ardshiel. Well, David, I’m the hand that carries it.” And he struck + the belt about his body, so that the guineas rang. + </p> + <p> + “Do they pay both?” cried I. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, David, both,” says he. + </p> + <p> + “What! two rents?” I repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, David,” said he. “I told a different tale to yon captain man; but + this is the truth of it. And it’s wonderful to me how little pressure is + needed. But that’s the handiwork of my good kinsman and my father’s + friend, James of the Glens: James Stewart, that is: Ardshiel’s + half-brother. He it is that gets the money in, and does the management.” + </p> + <p> + This was the first time I heard the name of that James Stewart, who was + afterwards so famous at the time of his hanging. But I took little heed at + the moment, for all my mind was occupied with the generosity of these poor + Highlanders. + </p> + <p> + “I call it noble,” I cried. “I’m a Whig, or little better; but I call it + noble.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay” said he, “ye’re a Whig, but ye’re a gentleman; and that’s what does + it. Now, if ye were one of the cursed race of Campbell, ye would gnash + your teeth to hear tell of it. If ye were the Red Fox...” And at that + name, his teeth shut together, and he ceased speaking. I have seen many a + grim face, but never a grimmer than Alan’s when he had named the Red Fox. + </p> + <p> + “And who is the Red Fox?” I asked, daunted, but still curious. + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” cried Alan. “Well, and I’ll tell you that. When the men of + the clans were broken at Culloden, and the good cause went down, and the + horses rode over the fetlocks in the best blood of the north, Ardshiel had + to flee like a poor deer upon the mountains—he and his lady and his + bairns. A sair job we had of it before we got him shipped; and while he + still lay in the heather, the English rogues, that couldnae come at his + life, were striking at his rights. They stripped him of his powers; they + stripped him of his lands; they plucked the weapons from the hands of his + clansmen, that had borne arms for thirty centuries; ay, and the very + clothes off their backs—so that it’s now a sin to wear a tartan + plaid, and a man may be cast into a gaol if he has but a kilt about his + legs. One thing they couldnae kill. That was the love the clansmen bore + their chief. These guineas are the proof of it. And now, in there steps a + man, a Campbell, red-headed Colin of Glenure——” + </p> + <p> + “Is that him you call the Red Fox?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Will ye bring me his brush?” cries Alan, fiercely. “Ay, that’s the man. + In he steps, and gets papers from King George, to be so-called King’s + factor on the lands of Appin. And at first he sings small, and is + hail-fellow-well-met with Sheamus—that’s James of the Glens, my + chieftain’s agent. But by-and-by, that came to his ears that I have just + told you; how the poor commons of Appin, the farmers and the crofters and + the boumen, were wringing their very plaids to get a second rent, and send + it over-seas for Ardshiel and his poor bairns. What was it ye called it, + when I told ye?” + </p> + <p> + “I called it noble, Alan,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “And you little better than a common Whig!” cries Alan. “But when it came + to Colin Roy, the black Campbell blood in him ran wild. He sat gnashing + his teeth at the wine table. What! should a Stewart get a bite of bread, + and him not be able to prevent it? Ah! Red Fox, if ever I hold you at a + gun’s end, the Lord have pity upon ye!” (Alan stopped to swallow down his + anger.) “Well, David, what does he do? He declares all the farms to let. + And, thinks he, in his black heart, ‘I’ll soon get other tenants that’ll + overbid these Stewarts, and Maccolls, and Macrobs’ (for these are all + names in my clan, David); ‘and then,’ thinks he, ‘Ardshiel will have to + hold his bonnet on a French roadside.’” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “what followed?” + </p> + <p> + Alan laid down his pipe, which he had long since suffered to go out, and + set his two hands upon his knees. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said he, “ye’ll never guess that! For these same Stewarts, and + Maccolls, and Macrobs (that had two rents to pay, one to King George by + stark force, and one to Ardshiel by natural kindness) offered him a better + price than any Campbell in all broad Scotland; and far he sent seeking + them—as far as to the sides of Clyde and the cross of Edinburgh—seeking, + and fleeching, and begging them to come, where there was a Stewart to be + starved and a red-headed hound of a Campbell to be pleasured!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Alan,” said I, “that is a strange story, and a fine one, too. And + Whig as I may be, I am glad the man was beaten.” + </p> + <p> + “Him beaten?” echoed Alan. “It’s little ye ken of Campbells, and less of + the Red Fox. Him beaten? No: nor will be, till his blood’s on the + hillside! But if the day comes, David man, that I can find time and + leisure for a bit of hunting, there grows not enough heather in all + Scotland to hide him from my vengeance!” + </p> + <p> + “Man Alan,” said I, “ye are neither very wise nor very Christian to blow + off so many words of anger. They will do the man ye call the Fox no harm, + and yourself no good. Tell me your tale plainly out. What did he next?” + </p> + <p> + “And that’s a good observe, David,” said Alan. “Troth and indeed, they + will do him no harm; the more’s the pity! And barring that about + Christianity (of which my opinion is quite otherwise, or I would be nae + Christian), I am much of your mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Opinion here or opinion there,” said I, “it’s a kent thing that + Christianity forbids revenge.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay” said he, “it’s well seen it was a Campbell taught ye! It would be a + convenient world for them and their sort, if there was no such a thing as + a lad and a gun behind a heather bush! But that’s nothing to the point. + This is what he did.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay” said I, “come to that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, David,” said he, “since he couldnae be rid of the loyal commons by + fair means, he swore he would be rid of them by foul. Ardshiel was to + starve: that was the thing he aimed at. And since them that fed him in his + exile wouldnae be bought out—right or wrong, he would drive them + out. Therefore he sent for lawyers, and papers, and red-coats to stand at + his back. And the kindly folk of that country must all pack and tramp, + every father’s son out of his father’s house, and out of the place where + he was bred and fed, and played when he was a callant. And who are to + succeed them? Bare-leggit beggars! King George is to whistle for his + rents; he maun dow with less; he can spread his butter thinner: what cares + Red Colin? If he can hurt Ardshiel, he has his wish; if he can pluck the + meat from my chieftain’s table, and the bit toys out of his children’s + hands, he will gang hame singing to Glenure!” + </p> + <p> + “Let me have a word,” said I. “Be sure, if they take less rents, be sure + Government has a finger in the pie. It’s not this Campbell’s fault, man—it’s + his orders. And if ye killed this Colin to-morrow, what better would ye + be? There would be another factor in his shoes, as fast as spur can + drive.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye’re a good lad in a fight,” said Alan; “but, man! ye have Whig blood in + ye!” + </p> + <p> + He spoke kindly enough, but there was so much anger under his contempt + that I thought it was wise to change the conversation. I expressed my + wonder how, with the Highlands covered with troops, and guarded like a + city in a siege, a man in his situation could come and go without arrest. + </p> + <p> + “It’s easier than ye would think,” said Alan. “A bare hillside (ye see) is + like all one road; if there’s a sentry at one place, ye just go by + another. And then the heather’s a great help. And everywhere there are + friends’ houses and friends’ byres and haystacks. And besides, when folk + talk of a country covered with troops, it’s but a kind of a byword at the + best. A soldier covers nae mair of it than his boot-soles. I have fished a + water with a sentry on the other side of the brae, and killed a fine + trout; and I have sat in a heather bush within six feet of another, and + learned a real bonny tune from his whistling. This was it,” said he, and + whistled me the air. + </p> + <p> + “And then, besides,” he continued, “it’s no sae bad now as it was in + forty-six. The Hielands are what they call pacified. Small wonder, with + never a gun or a sword left from Cantyre to Cape Wrath, but what tenty* + folk have hidden in their thatch! But what I would like to ken, David, is + just how long? Not long, ye would think, with men like Ardshiel in exile + and men like the Red Fox sitting birling the wine and oppressing the poor + at home. But it’s a kittle thing to decide what folk’ll bear, and what + they will not. Or why would Red Colin be riding his horse all over my poor + country of Appin, and never a pretty lad to put a bullet in him?” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Careful. +</pre> + <p> + And with this Alan fell into a muse, and for a long time sate very sad and + silent. + </p> + <p> + I will add the rest of what I have to say about my friend, that he was + skilled in all kinds of music, but principally pipe-music; was a + well-considered poet in his own tongue; had read several books both in + French and English; was a dead shot, a good angler, and an excellent + fencer with the small sword as well as with his own particular weapon. For + his faults, they were on his face, and I now knew them all. But the worst + of them, his childish propensity to take offence and to pick quarrels, he + greatly laid aside in my case, out of regard for the battle of the + round-house. But whether it was because I had done well myself, or because + I had been a witness of his own much greater prowess, is more than I can + tell. For though he had a great taste for courage in other men, yet he + admired it most in Alan Breck. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0135m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0135m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0135.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE LOSS OF THE BRIG + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9135m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9135m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9135.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + t was already late at night, and as dark as it ever would be at that + season of the year (and that is to say, it was still pretty bright), when + Hoseason clapped his head into the round-house door. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” said he, “come out and see if ye can pilot.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this one of your tricks?” asked Alan. + </p> + <p> + “Do I look like tricks?” cries the captain. “I have other things to think + of—my brig’s in danger!” + </p> + <p> + By the concerned look of his face, and, above all, by the sharp tones in + which he spoke of his brig, it was plain to both of us he was in deadly + earnest; and so Alan and I, with no great fear of treachery, stepped on + deck. + </p> + <p> + The sky was clear; it blew hard, and was bitter cold; a great deal of + daylight lingered; and the moon, which was nearly full, shone brightly. + The brig was close hauled, so as to round the southwest corner of the + Island of Mull, the hills of which (and Ben More above them all, with a + wisp of mist upon the top of it) lay full upon the lar-board bow. Though + it was no good point of sailing for the Covenant, she tore through the + seas at a great rate, pitching and straining, and pursued by the westerly + swell. + </p> + <p> + Altogether it was no such ill night to keep the seas in; and I had begun + to wonder what it was that sat so heavily upon the captain, when the brig + rising suddenly on the top of a high swell, he pointed and cried to us to + look. Away on the lee bow, a thing like a fountain rose out of the moonlit + sea, and immediately after we heard a low sound of roaring. + </p> + <p> + “What do ye call that?” asked the captain, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “The sea breaking on a reef,” said Alan. “And now ye ken where it is; and + what better would ye have?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Hoseason, “if it was the only one.” + </p> + <p> + And sure enough, just as he spoke there came a second fountain farther to + the south. + </p> + <p> + “There!” said Hoseason. “Ye see for yourself. If I had kent of these + reefs, if I had had a chart, or if Shuan had been spared, it’s not sixty + guineas, no, nor six hundred, would have made me risk my brig in sic a + stoneyard! But you, sir, that was to pilot us, have ye never a word?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m thinking,” said Alan, “these’ll be what they call the Torran Rocks.” + </p> + <p> + “Are there many of them?” says the captain. + </p> + <p> + “Truly, sir, I am nae pilot,” said Alan; “but it sticks in my mind there + are ten miles of them.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Riach and the captain looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “There’s a way through them, I suppose?” said the captain. + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless,” said Alan, “but where? But it somehow runs in my mind once + more that it is clearer under the land.” + </p> + <p> + “So?” said Hoseason. “We’ll have to haul our wind then, Mr. Riach; we’ll + have to come as near in about the end of Mull as we can take her, sir; and + even then we’ll have the land to kep the wind off us, and that stoneyard + on our lee. Well, we’re in for it now, and may as well crack on.” + </p> + <p> + With that he gave an order to the steersman, and sent Riach to the + foretop. There were only five men on deck, counting the officers; these + being all that were fit (or, at least, both fit and willing) for their + work. So, as I say, it fell to Mr. Riach to go aloft, and he sat there + looking out and hailing the deck with news of all he saw. + </p> + <p> + “The sea to the south is thick,” he cried; and then, after a while, “it + does seem clearer in by the land.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said Hoseason to Alan, “we’ll try your way of it. But I think + I might as well trust to a blind fiddler. Pray God you’re right.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray God I am!” says Alan to me. “But where did I hear it? Well, well, it + will be as it must.” + </p> + <p> + As we got nearer to the turn of the land the reefs began to be sown here + and there on our very path; and Mr. Riach sometimes cried down to us to + change the course. Sometimes, indeed, none too soon; for one reef was so + close on the brig’s weather board that when a sea burst upon it the + lighter sprays fell upon her deck and wetted us like rain. + </p> + <p> + The brightness of the night showed us these perils as clearly as by day, + which was, perhaps, the more alarming. It showed me, too, the face of the + captain as he stood by the steersman, now on one foot, now on the other, + and sometimes blowing in his hands, but still listening and looking and as + steady as steel. Neither he nor Mr. Riach had shown well in the fighting; + but I saw they were brave in their own trade, and admired them all the + more because I found Alan very white. + </p> + <p> + “Ochone, David,” says he, “this is no the kind of death I fancy!” + </p> + <p> + “What, Alan!” I cried, “you’re not afraid?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said he, wetting his lips, “but you’ll allow, yourself, it’s a cold + ending.” + </p> + <p> + By this time, now and then sheering to one side or the other to avoid a + reef, but still hugging the wind and the land, we had got round Iona and + begun to come alongside Mull. The tide at the tail of the land ran very + strong, and threw the brig about. Two hands were put to the helm, and + Hoseason himself would sometimes lend a help; and it was strange to see + three strong men throw their weight upon the tiller, and it (like a living + thing) struggle against and drive them back. This would have been the + greater danger had not the sea been for some while free of obstacles. Mr. + Riach, besides, announced from the top that he saw clear water ahead. + </p> + <p> + “Ye were right,” said Hoseason to Alan. “Ye have saved the brig, sir. I’ll + mind that when we come to clear accounts.” And I believe he not only meant + what he said, but would have done it; so high a place did the Covenant + hold in his affections. + </p> + <p> + But this is matter only for conjecture, things having gone otherwise than + he forecast. + </p> + <p> + “Keep her away a point,” sings out Mr. Riach. “Reef to windward!” + </p> + <p> + And just at the same time the tide caught the brig, and threw the wind out + of her sails. She came round into the wind like a top, and the next moment + struck the reef with such a dunch as threw us all flat upon the deck, and + came near to shake Mr. Riach from his place upon the mast. + </p> + <p> + I was on my feet in a minute. The reef on which we had struck was close in + under the southwest end of Mull, off a little isle they call Earraid, + which lay low and black upon the larboard. Sometimes the swell broke clean + over us; sometimes it only ground the poor brig upon the reef, so that we + could hear her beat herself to pieces; and what with the great noise of + the sails, and the singing of the wind, and the flying of the spray in the + moonlight, and the sense of danger, I think my head must have been partly + turned, for I could scarcely understand the things I saw. + </p> + <p> + Presently I observed Mr. Riach and the seamen busy round the skiff, and, + still in the same blank, ran over to assist them; and as soon as I set my + hand to work, my mind came clear again. It was no very easy task, for the + skiff lay amidships and was full of hamper, and the breaking of the + heavier seas continually forced us to give over and hold on; but we all + wrought like horses while we could. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile such of the wounded as could move came clambering out of the + fore-scuttle and began to help; while the rest that lay helpless in their + bunks harrowed me with screaming and begging to be saved. + </p> + <p> + The captain took no part. It seemed he was struck stupid. He stood holding + by the shrouds, talking to himself and groaning out aloud whenever the + ship hammered on the rock. His brig was like wife and child to him; he had + looked on, day by day, at the mishandling of poor Ransome; but when it + came to the brig, he seemed to suffer along with her. + </p> + <p> + All the time of our working at the boat, I remember only one other thing: + that I asked Alan, looking across at the shore, what country it was; and + he answered, it was the worst possible for him, for it was a land of the + Campbells. + </p> + <p> + We had one of the wounded men told off to keep a watch upon the seas and + cry us warning. Well, we had the boat about ready to be launched, when + this man sang out pretty shrill: “For God’s sake, hold on!” We knew by his + tone that it was something more than ordinary; and sure enough, there + followed a sea so huge that it lifted the brig right up and canted her + over on her beam. Whether the cry came too late, or my hold was too weak, + I know not; but at the sudden tilting of the ship I was cast clean over + the bulwarks into the sea. + </p> + <p> + I went down, and drank my fill, and then came up, and got a blink of the + moon, and then down again. They say a man sinks a third time for good. I + cannot be made like other folk, then; for I would not like to write how + often I went down, or how often I came up again. All the while, I was + being hurled along, and beaten upon and choked, and then swallowed whole; + and the thing was so distracting to my wits, that I was neither sorry nor + afraid. + </p> + <p> + Presently, I found I was holding to a spar, which helped me somewhat. And + then all of a sudden I was in quiet water, and began to come to myself. + </p> + <p> + It was the spare yard I had got hold of, and I was amazed to see how far I + had travelled from the brig. I hailed her, indeed; but it was plain she + was already out of cry. She was still holding together; but whether or not + they had yet launched the boat, I was too far off and too low down to see. + </p> + <p> + While I was hailing the brig, I spied a tract of water lying between us + where no great waves came, but which yet boiled white all over and + bristled in the moon with rings and bubbles. Sometimes the whole tract + swung to one side, like the tail of a live serpent; sometimes, for a + glimpse, it would all disappear and then boil up again. What it was I had + no guess, which for the time increased my fear of it; but I now know it + must have been the roost or tide race, which had carried me away so fast + and tumbled me about so cruelly, and at last, as if tired of that play, + had flung out me and the spare yard upon its landward margin. + </p> + <p> + I now lay quite becalmed, and began to feel that a man can die of cold as + well as of drowning. The shores of Earraid were close in; I could see in + the moonlight the dots of heather and the sparkling of the mica in the + rocks. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” thought I to myself, “if I cannot get as far as that, it’s + strange!” + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0141m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0141m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0141.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0143m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0143m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0143.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + I had no skill of swimming, Essen Water being small in our neighbourhood; + but when I laid hold upon the yard with both arms, and kicked out with + both feet, I soon begun to find that I was moving. Hard work it was, and + mortally slow; but in about an hour of kicking and splashing, I had got + well in between the points of a sandy bay surrounded by low hills. + </p> + <p> + The sea was here quite quiet; there was no sound of any surf; the moon + shone clear; and I thought in my heart I had never seen a place so desert + and desolate. But it was dry land; and when at last it grew so shallow + that I could leave the yard and wade ashore upon my feet, I cannot tell if + I was more tired or more grateful. Both, at least, I was: tired as I never + was before that night; and grateful to God as I trust I have been often, + though never with more cause. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0146m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0146m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0146.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <h3> + THE ISLET + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9146m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9146m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9146.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + ith my stepping ashore I began the most unhappy part of my adventures. It + was half-past twelve in the morning, and though the wind was broken by the + land, it was a cold night. I dared not sit down (for I thought I should + have frozen), but took off my shoes and walked to and fro upon the sand, + bare-foot, and beating my breast with infinite weariness. There was no + sound of man or cattle; not a cock crew, though it was about the hour of + their first waking; only the surf broke outside in the distance, which put + me in mind of my perils and those of my friend. To walk by the sea at that + hour of the morning, and in a place so desert-like and lonesome, struck me + with a kind of fear. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the day began to break I put on my shoes and climbed a hill—the + ruggedest scramble I ever undertook—falling, the whole way, between + big blocks of granite, or leaping from one to another. When I got to the + top the dawn was come. There was no sign of the brig, which must have + lifted from the reef and sunk. The boat, too, was nowhere to be seen. + There was never a sail upon the ocean; and in what I could see of the land + was neither house nor man. + </p> + <p> + I was afraid to think what had befallen my shipmates, and afraid to look + longer at so empty a scene. What with my wet clothes and weariness, and my + belly that now began to ache with hunger, I had enough to trouble me + without that. So I set off eastward along the south coast, hoping to find + a house where I might warm myself, and perhaps get news of those I had + lost. And at the worst, I considered the sun would soon rise and dry my + clothes. + </p> + <p> + After a little, my way was stopped by a creek or inlet of the sea, which + seemed to run pretty deep into the land; and as I had no means to get + across, I must needs change my direction to go about the end of it. It was + still the roughest kind of walking; indeed the whole, not only of Earraid, + but of the neighbouring part of Mull (which they call the Ross) is nothing + but a jumble of granite rocks with heather in among. At first the creek + kept narrowing as I had looked to see; but presently to my surprise it + began to widen out again. At this I scratched my head, but had still no + notion of the truth: until at last I came to a rising ground, and it burst + upon me all in a moment that I was cast upon a little barren isle, and cut + off on every side by the salt seas. + </p> + <p> + Instead of the sun rising to dry me, it came on to rain, with a thick + mist; so that my case was lamentable. + </p> + <p> + I stood in the rain, and shivered, and wondered what to do, till it + occurred to me that perhaps the creek was fordable. Back I went to the + narrowest point and waded in. But not three yards from shore, I plumped in + head over ears; and if ever I was heard of more, it was rather by God’s + grace than my own prudence. I was no wetter (for that could hardly be), + but I was all the colder for this mishap; and having lost another hope was + the more unhappy. + </p> + <p> + And now, all at once, the yard came in my head. What had carried me + through the roost would surely serve me to cross this little quiet creek + in safety. With that I set off, undaunted, across the top of the isle, to + fetch and carry it back. It was a weary tramp in all ways, and if hope had + not buoyed me up, I must have cast myself down and given up. Whether with + the sea salt, or because I was growing fevered, I was distressed with + thirst, and had to stop, as I went, and drink the peaty water out of the + hags. + </p> + <p> + I came to the bay at last, more dead than alive; and at the first glance, + I thought the yard was something farther out than when I left it. In I + went, for the third time, into the sea. The sand was smooth and firm, and + shelved gradually down, so that I could wade out till the water was almost + to my neck and the little waves splashed into my face. But at that depth + my feet began to leave me, and I durst venture in no farther. As for the + yard, I saw it bobbing very quietly some twenty feet beyond. + </p> + <p> + I had borne up well until this last disappointment; but at that I came + ashore, and flung myself down upon the sands and wept. + </p> + <p> + The time I spent upon the island is still so horrible a thought to me, + that I must pass it lightly over. In all the books I have read of people + cast away, they had either their pockets full of tools, or a chest of + things would be thrown upon the beach along with them, as if on purpose. + My case was very different. I had nothing in my pockets but money and + Alan’s silver button; and being inland bred, I was as much short of + knowledge as of means. + </p> + <p> + I knew indeed that shell-fish were counted good to eat; and among the + rocks of the isle I found a great plenty of limpets, which at first I + could scarcely strike from their places, not knowing quickness to be + needful. There were, besides, some of the little shells that we call + buckies; I think periwinkle is the English name. Of these two I made my + whole diet, devouring them cold and raw as I found them; and so hungry was + I, that at first they seemed to me delicious. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps they were out of season, or perhaps there was something wrong in + the sea about my island. But at least I had no sooner eaten my first meal + than I was seized with giddiness and retching, and lay for a long time no + better than dead. A second trial of the same food (indeed I had no other) + did better with me, and revived my strength. But as long as I was on the + island, I never knew what to expect when I had eaten; sometimes all was + well, and sometimes I was thrown into a miserable sickness; nor could I + ever distinguish what particular fish it was that hurt me. + </p> + <p> + All day it streamed rain; the island ran like a sop, there was no dry spot + to be found; and when I lay down that night, between two boulders that + made a kind of roof, my feet were in a bog. + </p> + <p> + The second day I crossed the island to all sides. There was no one part of + it better than another; it was all desolate and rocky; nothing living on + it but game birds which I lacked the means to kill, and the gulls which + haunted the outlying rocks in a prodigious number. But the creek, or + strait, that cut off the isle from the main-land of the Ross, opened out + on the north into a bay, and the bay again opened into the Sound of Iona; + and it was the neighbourhood of this place that I chose to be my home; + though if I had thought upon the very name of home in such a spot, I must + have burst out weeping. + </p> + <p> + I had good reasons for my choice. There was in this part of the isle a + little hut of a house like a pig’s hut, where fishers used to sleep when + they came there upon their business; but the turf roof of it had fallen + entirely in; so that the hut was of no use to me, and gave me less shelter + than my rocks. What was more important, the shell-fish on which I lived + grew there in great plenty; when the tide was out I could gather a peck at + a time: and this was doubtless a convenience. But the other reason went + deeper. I had become in no way used to the horrid solitude of the isle, + but still looked round me on all sides (like a man that was hunted), + between fear and hope that I might see some human creature coming. Now, + from a little up the hillside over the bay, I could catch a sight of the + great, ancient church and the roofs of the people’s houses in Iona. And on + the other hand, over the low country of the Ross, I saw smoke go up, + morning and evening, as if from a homestead in a hollow of the land. + </p> + <p> + I used to watch this smoke, when I was wet and cold, and had my head half + turned with loneliness; and think of the fireside and the company, till my + heart burned. It was the same with the roofs of Iona. Altogether, this + sight I had of men’s homes and comfortable lives, although it put a point + on my own sufferings, yet it kept hope alive, and helped me to eat my raw + shell-fish (which had soon grown to be a disgust), and saved me from the + sense of horror I had whenever I was quite alone with dead rocks, and + fowls, and the rain, and the cold sea. + </p> + <p> + I say it kept hope alive; and indeed it seemed impossible that I should be + left to die on the shores of my own country, and within view of a + church-tower and the smoke of men’s houses. But the second day passed; and + though as long as the light lasted I kept a bright look-out for boats on + the Sound or men passing on the Ross, no help came near me. It still + rained, and I turned in to sleep, as wet as ever, and with a cruel sore + throat, but a little comforted, perhaps, by having said good-night to my + next neighbours, the people of Iona. + </p> + <p> + Charles the Second declared a man could stay outdoors more days in the + year in the climate of England than in any other. This was very like a + king, with a palace at his back and changes of dry clothes. But he must + have had better luck on his flight from Worcester than I had on that + miserable isle. It was the height of the summer; yet it rained for more + than twenty-four hours, and did not clear until the afternoon of the third + day. + </p> + <p> + This was the day of incidents. In the morning I saw a red deer, a buck + with a fine spread of antlers, standing in the rain on the top of the + island; but he had scarce seen me rise from under my rock, before he + trotted off upon the other side. I supposed he must have swum the strait; + though what should bring any creature to Earraid, was more than I could + fancy. + </p> + <p> + A little after, as I was jumping about after my limpets, I was startled by + a guinea-piece, which fell upon a rock in front of me and glanced off into + the sea. When the sailors gave me my money again, they kept back not only + about a third of the whole sum, but my father’s leather purse; so that + from that day out, I carried my gold loose in a pocket with a button. I + now saw there must be a hole, and clapped my hand to the place in a great + hurry. But this was to lock the stable door after the steed was stolen. I + had left the shore at Queensferry with near on fifty pounds; now I found + no more than two guinea-pieces and a silver shilling. + </p> + <p> + It is true I picked up a third guinea a little after, where it lay shining + on a piece of turf. That made a fortune of three pounds and four + shillings, English money, for a lad, the rightful heir of an estate, and + now starving on an isle at the extreme end of the wild Highlands. + </p> + <p> + This state of my affairs dashed me still further; and, indeed my plight on + that third morning was truly pitiful. My clothes were beginning to rot; my + stockings in particular were quite worn through, so that my shanks went + naked; my hands had grown quite soft with the continual soaking; my throat + was very sore, my strength had much abated, and my heart so turned against + the horrid stuff I was condemned to eat, that the very sight of it came + near to sicken me. + </p> + <p> + And yet the worst was not yet come. + </p> + <p> + There is a pretty high rock on the northwest of Earraid, which (because it + had a flat top and overlooked the Sound) I was much in the habit of + frequenting; not that ever I stayed in one place, save when asleep, my + misery giving me no rest. Indeed, I wore myself down with continual and + aimless goings and comings in the rain. + </p> + <p> + As soon, however, as the sun came out, I lay down on the top of that rock + to dry myself. The comfort of the sunshine is a thing I cannot tell. It + set me thinking hopefully of my deliverance, of which I had begun to + despair; and I scanned the sea and the Ross with a fresh interest. On the + south of my rock, a part of the island jutted out and hid the open ocean, + so that a boat could thus come quite near me upon that side, and I be none + the wiser. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0153m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0153m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0153.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + Well, all of a sudden, a coble with a brown sail and a pair of fishers + aboard of it, came flying round that corner of the isle, bound for Iona. I + shouted out, and then fell on my knees on the rock and reached up my hands + and prayed to them. They were near enough to hear—I could even see + the colour of their hair; and there was no doubt but they observed me, for + they cried out in the Gaelic tongue, and laughed. But the boat never + turned aside, and flew on, right before my eyes, for Iona. + </p> + <p> + I could not believe such wickedness, and ran along the shore from rock to + rock, crying on them piteously even after they were out of reach of my + voice, I still cried and waved to them; and when they were quite gone, I + thought my heart would have burst. All the time of my troubles I wept only + twice. Once, when I could not reach the yard, and now, the second time, + when these fishers turned a deaf ear to my cries. But this time I wept and + roared like a wicked child, tearing up the turf with my nails, and + grinding my face in the earth. If a wish would kill men, those two fishers + would never have seen morning, and I should likely have died upon my + island. + </p> + <p> + When I was a little over my anger, I must eat again, but with such + loathing of the mess as I could now scarce control. Sure enough, I should + have done as well to fast, for my fishes poisoned me again. I had all my + first pains; my throat was so sore I could scarce swallow; I had a fit of + strong shuddering, which clucked my teeth together; and there came on me + that dreadful sense of illness, which we have no name for either in Scotch + or English. I thought I should have died, and made my peace with God, + forgiving all men, even my uncle and the fishers; and as soon as I had + thus made up my mind to the worst, clearness came upon me; I observed the + night was falling dry; my clothes were dried a good deal; truly, I was in + a better case than ever before, since I had landed on the isle; and so I + got to sleep at last, with a thought of gratitude. + </p> + <p> + The next day (which was the fourth of this horrible life of mine) I found + my bodily strength run very low. But the sun shone, the air was sweet, and + what I managed to eat of the shell-fish agreed well with me and revived my + courage. + </p> + <p> + I was scarce back on my rock (where I went always the first thing after I + had eaten) before I observed a boat coming down the Sound, and with her + head, as I thought, in my direction. + </p> + <p> + I began at once to hope and fear exceedingly; for I thought these men + might have thought better of their cruelty and be coming back to my + assistance. But another disappointment, such as yesterday’s, was more than + I could bear. I turned my back, accordingly, upon the sea, and did not + look again till I had counted many hundreds. The boat was still heading + for the island. The next time I counted the full thousand, as slowly as I + could, my heart beating so as to hurt me. And then it was out of all + question. She was coming straight to Earraid! + </p> + <p> + I could no longer hold myself back, but ran to the seaside and out, from + one rock to another, as far as I could go. It is a marvel I was not + drowned; for when I was brought to a stand at last, my legs shook under + me, and my mouth was so dry, I must wet it with the sea-water before I was + able to shout. + </p> + <p> + All this time the boat was coming on; and now I was able to perceive it + was the same boat and the same two men as yesterday. This I knew by their + hair, which the one had of a bright yellow and the other black. But now + there was a third man along with them, who looked to be of a better class. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they were come within easy speech, they let down their sail and + lay quiet. In spite of my supplications, they drew no nearer in, and what + frightened me most of all, the new man tee-hee’d with laughter as he + talked and looked at me. + </p> + <p> + Then he stood up in the boat and addressed me a long while, speaking fast + and with many wavings of his hand. I told him I had no Gaelic; and at this + he became very angry, and I began to suspect he thought he was talking + English. Listening very close, I caught the word “whateffer” several + times; but all the rest was Gaelic and might have been Greek and Hebrew + for me. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever,” said I, to show him I had caught a word. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes—yes, yes,” says he, and then he looked at the other men, + as much as to say, “I told you I spoke English,” and began again as hard + as ever in the Gaelic. + </p> + <p> + This time I picked out another word, “tide.” Then I had a flash of hope. I + remembered he was always waving his hand towards the mainland of the Ross. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean when the tide is out—?” I cried, and could not finish. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said he. “Tide.” + </p> + <p> + At that I turned tail upon their boat (where my adviser had once more + begun to tee-hee with laughter), leaped back the way I had come, from one + stone to another, and set off running across the isle as I had never run + before. In about half an hour I came out upon the shores of the creek; + and, sure enough, it was shrunk into a little trickle of water, through + which I dashed, not above my knees, and landed with a shout on the main + island. + </p> + <p> + A sea-bred boy would not have stayed a day on Earraid; which is only what + they call a tidal islet, and except in the bottom of the neaps, can be + entered and left twice in every twenty-four hours, either dry-shod, or at + the most by wading. Even I, who had the tide going out and in before me in + the bay, and even watched for the ebbs, the better to get my shellfish—even + I (I say) if I had sat down to think, instead of raging at my fate, must + have soon guessed the secret, and got free. It was no wonder the fishers + had not understood me. The wonder was rather that they had ever guessed my + pitiful illusion, and taken the trouble to come back. I had starved with + cold and hunger on that island for close upon one hundred hours. But for + the fishers, I might have left my bones there, in pure folly. And even as + it was, I had paid for it pretty dear, not only in past sufferings, but in + my present case; being clothed like a beggar-man, scarce able to walk, and + in great pain of my sore throat. + </p> + <p> + I have seen wicked men and fools, a great many of both; and I believe they + both get paid in the end; but the fools first. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0158m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0158m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0158.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9158m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9158m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9158.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + he Ross of Mull, which I had now got upon, was rugged and trackless, like + the isle I had just left; being all bog, and brier, and big stone. There + may be roads for them that know that country well; but for my part I had + no better guide than my own nose, and no other landmark than Ben More. + </p> + <p> + I aimed as well as I could for the smoke I had seen so often from the + island; and with all my great weariness and the difficulty of the way came + upon the house in the bottom of a little hollow about five or six at + night. It was low and longish, roofed with turf and built of unmortared + stones; and on a mound in front of it, an old gentleman sat smoking his + pipe in the sun. + </p> + <p> + With what little English he had, he gave me to understand that my + shipmates had got safe ashore, and had broken bread in that very house on + the day after. + </p> + <p> + “Was there one,” I asked, “dressed like a gentleman?” + </p> + <p> + He said they all wore rough great-coats; but to be sure, the first of + them, the one that came alone, wore breeches and stockings, while the rest + had sailors’ trousers. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said I, “and he would have a feathered hat?” + </p> + <p> + He told me, no, that he was bareheaded like myself. + </p> + <p> + At first I thought Alan might have lost his hat; and then the rain came in + my mind, and I judged it more likely he had it out of harm’s way under his + great-coat. This set me smiling, partly because my friend was safe, partly + to think of his vanity in dress. + </p> + <p> + And then the old gentleman clapped his hand to his brow, and cried out + that I must be the lad with the silver button. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes!” said I, in some wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said the old gentleman, “I have a word for you, that you are + to follow your friend to his country, by Torosay.” + </p> + <p> + He then asked me how I had fared, and I told him my tale. A south-country + man would certainly have laughed; but this old gentleman (I call him so + because of his manners, for his clothes were dropping off his back) heard + me all through with nothing but gravity and pity. When I had done, he took + me by the hand, led me into his hut (it was no better) and presented me + before his wife, as if she had been the Queen and I a duke. + </p> + <p> + The good woman set oat-bread before me and a cold grouse, patting my + shoulder and smiling to me all the time, for she had no English; and the + old gentleman (not to be behind) brewed me a strong punch out of their + country spirit. All the while I was eating, and after that when I was + drinking the punch, I could scarce come to believe in my good fortune; and + the house, though it was thick with the peat-smoke and as full of holes as + a colander, seemed like a palace. + </p> + <p> + The punch threw me in a strong sweat and a deep slumber; the good people + let me lie; and it was near noon of the next day before I took the road, + my throat already easier and my spirits quite restored by good fare and + good news. The old gentleman, although I pressed him hard, would take no + money, and gave me an old bonnet for my head; though I am free to own I + was no sooner out of view of the house than I very jealously washed this + gift of his in a wayside fountain. + </p> + <p> + Thought I to myself: “If these are the wild Highlanders, I could wish my + own folk wilder.” + </p> + <p> + I not only started late, but I must have wandered nearly half the time. + True, I met plenty of people, grubbing in little miserable fields that + would not keep a cat, or herding little kine about the bigness of asses. + The Highland dress being forbidden by law since the rebellion, and the + people condemned to the Lowland habit, which they much disliked, it was + strange to see the variety of their array. Some went bare, only for a + hanging cloak or great-coat, and carried their trousers on their backs + like a useless burthen: some had made an imitation of the tartan with + little parti-coloured stripes patched together like an old wife’s quilt; + others, again, still wore the Highland philabeg, but by putting a few + stitches between the legs transformed it into a pair of trousers like a + Dutchman’s. All those makeshifts were condemned and punished, for the law + was harshly applied, in hopes to break up the clan spirit; but in that + out-of-the-way, sea-bound isle, there were few to make remarks and fewer + to tell tales. + </p> + <p> + They seemed in great poverty; which was no doubt natural, now that rapine + was put down, and the chiefs kept no longer an open house; and the roads + (even such a wandering, country by-track as the one I followed) were + infested with beggars. And here again I marked a difference from my own + part of the country. For our Lowland beggars—even the gownsmen + themselves, who beg by patent—had a louting, flattering way with + them, and if you gave them a plaek and asked change, would very civilly + return you a boddle. But these Highland beggars stood on their dignity, + asked alms only to buy snuff (by their account) and would give no change. + </p> + <p> + To be sure, this was no concern of mine, except in so far as it + entertained me by the way. What was much more to the purpose, few had any + English, and these few (unless they were of the brotherhood of beggars) + not very anxious to place it at my service. I knew Torosay to be my + destination, and repeated the name to them and pointed; but instead of + simply pointing in reply, they would give me a screed of the Gaelic that + set me foolish; so it was small wonder if I went out of my road as often + as I stayed in it. + </p> + <p> + At last, about eight at night, and already very weary, I came to a lone + house, where I asked admittance, and was refused, until I bethought me of + the power of money in so poor a country, and held up one of my guineas in + my finger and thumb. Thereupon, the man of the house, who had hitherto + pretended to have no English, and driven me from his door by signals, + suddenly began to speak as clearly as was needful, and agreed for five + shillings to give me a night’s lodging and guide me the next day to + Torosay. + </p> + <p> + I slept uneasily that night, fearing I should be robbed; but I might have + spared myself the pain; for my host was no robber, only miserably poor and + a great cheat. He was not alone in his poverty; for the next morning, we + must go five miles about to the house of what he called a rich man to have + one of my guineas changed. This was perhaps a rich man for Mull; he would + have scarce been thought so in the south; for it took all he had—the + whole house was turned upside down, and a neighbour brought under + contribution, before he could scrape together twenty shillings in silver. + The odd shilling he kept for himself, protesting he could ill afford to + have so great a sum of money lying “locked up.” For all that he was very + courteous and well spoken, made us both sit down with his family to + dinner, and brewed punch in a fine china bowl, over which my rascal guide + grew so merry that he refused to start. + </p> + <p> + I was for getting angry, and appealed to the rich man (Hector Maclean was + his name), who had been a witness to our bargain and to my payment of the + five shillings. But Maclean had taken his share of the punch, and vowed + that no gentleman should leave his table after the bowl was brewed; so + there was nothing for it but to sit and hear Jacobite toasts and Gaelic + songs, till all were tipsy and staggered off to the bed or the barn for + their night’s rest. + </p> + <p> + Next day (the fourth of my travels) we were up before five upon the clock; + but my rascal guide got to the bottle at once, and it was three hours + before I had him clear of the house, and then (as you shall hear) only for + a worse disappointment. + </p> + <p> + As long as we went down a heathery valley that lay before Mr. Maclean’s + house, all went well; only my guide looked constantly over his shoulder, + and when I asked him the cause, only grinned at me. No sooner, however, + had we crossed the back of a hill, and got out of sight of the house + windows, than he told me Torosay lay right in front, and that a hill-top + (which he pointed out) was my best landmark. + </p> + <p> + “I care very little for that,” said I, “since you are going with me.” + </p> + <p> + The impudent cheat answered me in the Gaelic that he had no English. + </p> + <p> + “My fine fellow,” I said, “I know very well your English comes and goes. + Tell me what will bring it back? Is it more money you wish?” + </p> + <p> + “Five shillings mair,” said he, “and hersel’ will bring ye there.” + </p> + <p> + I reflected awhile and then offered him two, which he accepted greedily, + and insisted on having in his hands at once “for luck,” as he said, but I + think it was rather for my misfortune. + </p> + <p> + The two shillings carried him not quite as many miles; at the end of which + distance, he sat down upon the wayside and took off his brogues from his + feet, like a man about to rest. + </p> + <p> + I was now red-hot. “Ha!” said I, “have you no more English?” + </p> + <p> + He said impudently, “No.” + </p> + <p> + At that I boiled over, and lifted my hand to strike him; and he, drawing a + knife from his rags, squatted back and grinned at me like a wildcat. At + that, forgetting everything but my anger, I ran in upon him, put aside his + knife with my left, and struck him in the mouth with the right. I was a + strong lad and very angry, and he but a little man; and he went down + before me heavily. By good luck, his knife flew out of his hand as he + fell. + </p> + <p> + I picked up both that and his brogues, wished him a good morning, and set + off upon my way, leaving him barefoot and disarmed. I chuckled to myself + as I went, being sure I was done with that rogue, for a variety of + reasons. First, he knew he could have no more of my money; next, the + brogues were worth in that country only a few pence; and, lastly, the + knife, which was really a dagger, it was against the law for him to carry. + </p> + <p> + In about half an hour of walk, I overtook a great, ragged man, moving + pretty fast but feeling before him with a staff. He was quite blind, and + told me he was a catechist, which should have put me at my ease. But his + face went against me; it seemed dark and dangerous and secret; and + presently, as we began to go on alongside, I saw the steel butt of a + pistol sticking from under the flap of his coat-pocket. To carry such a + thing meant a fine of fifteen pounds sterling upon a first offence, and + transportation to the colonies upon a second. Nor could I quite see why a + religious teacher should go armed, or what a blind man could be doing with + a pistol. + </p> + <p> + I told him about my guide, for I was proud of what I had done, and my + vanity for once got the heels of my prudence. At the mention of the five + shillings he cried out so loud that I made up my mind I should say nothing + of the other two, and was glad he could not see my blushes. + </p> + <p> + “Was it too much?” I asked, a little faltering. + </p> + <p> + “Too much!” cries he. “Why, I will guide you to Torosay myself for a dram + of brandy. And give you the great pleasure of my company (me that is a man + of some learning) in the bargain.” + </p> + <p> + I said I did not see how a blind man could be a guide; but at that he + laughed aloud, and said his stick was eyes enough for an eagle. + </p> + <p> + “In the Isle of Mull, at least,” says he, “where I know every stone and + heather-bush by mark of head. See, now,” he said, striking right and left, + as if to make sure, “down there a burn is running; and at the head of it + there stands a bit of a small hill with a stone cocked upon the top of + that; and it’s hard at the foot of the hill, that the way runs by to + Torosay; and the way here, being for droves, is plainly trodden, and will + show grassy through the heather.” + </p> + <p> + I had to own he was right in every feature, and told my wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” says he, “that’s nothing. Would ye believe me now, that before the + Act came out, and when there were weepons in this country, I could shoot? + Ay, could I!” cries he, and then with a leer: “If ye had such a thing as a + pistol here to try with, I would show ye how it’s done.” + </p> + <p> + I told him I had nothing of the sort, and gave him a wider berth. If he + had known, his pistol stuck at that time quite plainly out of his pocket, + and I could see the sun twinkle on the steel of the butt. But by the + better luck for me, he knew nothing, thought all was covered, and lied on + in the dark. + </p> + <p> + He then began to question me cunningly, where I came from, whether I was + rich, whether I could change a five-shilling piece for him (which he + declared he had that moment in his sporran), and all the time he kept + edging up to me and I avoiding him. We were now upon a sort of green + cattle-track which crossed the hills towards Torosay, and we kept changing + sides upon that like dancers in a reel. I had so plainly the upper-hand + that my spirits rose, and indeed I took a pleasure in this game of + blindman’s buff; but the catechist grew angrier and angrier, and at last + began to swear in Gaelic and to strike for my legs with his staff. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0165m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0165m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0165.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + Then I told him that, sure enough, I had a pistol in my pocket as well as + he, and if he did not strike across the hill due south I would even blow + his brains out. + </p> + <p> + He became at once very polite, and after trying to soften me for some + time, but quite in vain, he cursed me once more in Gaelic and took himself + off. I watched him striding along, through bog and brier, tapping with his + stick, until he turned the end of a hill and disappeared in the next + hollow. Then I struck on again for Torosay, much better pleased to be + alone than to travel with that man of learning. This was an unlucky day; + and these two, of whom I had just rid myself, one after the other, were + the two worst men I met with in the Highlands. + </p> + <p> + At Torosay, on the Sound of Mull and looking over to the mainland of + Morven, there was an inn with an innkeeper, who was a Maclean, it + appeared, of a very high family; for to keep an inn is thought even more + genteel in the Highlands than it is with us, perhaps as partaking of + hospitality, or perhaps because the trade is idle and drunken. He spoke + good English, and finding me to be something of a scholar, tried me first + in French, where he easily beat me, and then in the Latin, in which I + don’t know which of us did best. This pleasant rivalry put us at once upon + friendly terms; and I sat up and drank punch with him (or to be more + correct, sat up and watched him drink it), until he was so tipsy that he + wept upon my shoulder. + </p> + <p> + I tried him, as if by accident, with a sight of Alan’s button; but it was + plain he had never seen or heard of it. Indeed, he bore some grudge + against the family and friends of Ardshiel, and before he was drunk he + read me a lampoon, in very good Latin, but with a very ill meaning, which + he had made in elegiac verses upon a person of that house. + </p> + <p> + When I told him of my catechist, he shook his head, and said I was lucky + to have got clear off. “That is a very dangerous man,” he said; “Duncan + Mackiegh is his name; he can shoot by the ear at several yards, and has + been often accused of highway robberies, and once of murder.” + </p> + <p> + “The cream of it is,” says I, “that he called himself a catechist.” + </p> + <p> + “And why should he not?” says he, “when that is what he is. It was Maclean + of Duart gave it to him because he was blind. But perhaps it was a peety,” + says my host, “for he is always on the road, going from one place to + another to hear the young folk say their religion; and, doubtless, that is + a great temptation to the poor man.” + </p> + <p> + At last, when my landlord could drink no more, he showed me to a bed, and + I lay down in very good spirits; having travelled the greater part of that + big and crooked Island of Mull, from Earraid to Torosay, fifty miles as + the crow flies, and (with my wanderings) much nearer a hundred, in four + days and with little fatigue. Indeed I was by far in better heart and + health of body at the end of that long tramp than I had been at the + beginning. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0169m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0169m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0169.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <h3> + THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9169m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9169m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9169.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + here is a regular ferry from Torosay to Kinlochaline on the mainland. + Both shores of the Sound are in the country of the strong clan of the + Macleans, and the people that passed the ferry with me were almost all of + that clan. The skipper of the boat, on the other hand, was called Neil Roy + Macrob; and since Macrob was one of the names of Alan’s clansmen, and Alan + himself had sent me to that ferry, I was eager to come to private speech + of Neil Roy. + </p> + <p> + In the crowded boat this was of course impossible, and the passage was a + very slow affair. There was no wind, and as the boat was wretchedly + equipped, we could pull but two oars on one side, and one on the other. + The men gave way, however, with a good will, the passengers taking spells + to help them, and the whole company giving the time in Gaelic boat-songs. + And what with the songs, and the sea-air, and the good-nature and spirit + of all concerned, and the bright weather, the passage was a pretty thing + to have seen. + </p> + <p> + But there was one melancholy part. In the mouth of Loch Aline we found a + great sea-going ship at anchor; and this I supposed at first to be one of + the King’s cruisers which were kept along that coast, both summer and + winter, to prevent communication with the French. As we got a little + nearer, it became plain she was a ship of merchandise; and what still more + puzzled me, not only her decks, but the sea-beach also, were quite black + with people, and skiffs were continually plying to and fro between them. + Yet nearer, and there began to come to our ears a great sound of mourning, + the people on board and those on the shore crying and lamenting one to + another so as to pierce the heart. + </p> + <p> + Then I understood this was an emigrant ship bound for the American + colonies. + </p> + <p> + We put the ferry-boat alongside, and the exiles leaned over the bulwarks, + weeping and reaching out their hands to my fellow-passengers, among whom + they counted some near friends. How long this might have gone on I do not + know, for they seemed to have no sense of time: but at last the captain of + the ship, who seemed near beside himself (and no great wonder) in the + midst of this crying and confusion, came to the side and begged us to + depart. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Neil sheered off; and the chief singer in our boat struck into a + melancholy air, which was presently taken up both by the emigrants and + their friends upon the beach, so that it sounded from all sides like a + lament for the dying. I saw the tears run down the cheeks of the men and + women in the boat, even as they bent at the oars; and the circumstances + and the music of the song (which is one called “Lochaber no more”) were + highly affecting even to myself. + </p> + <p> + At Kinlochaline I got Neil Roy upon one side on the beach, and said I made + sure he was one of Appin’s men. + </p> + <p> + “And what for no?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “I am seeking somebody,” said I; “and it comes in my mind that you will + have news of him. Alan Breck Stewart is his name.” And very foolishly, + instead of showing him the button, I sought to pass a shilling in his + hand. + </p> + <p> + At this he drew back. “I am very much affronted,” he said; “and this is + not the way that one shentleman should behave to another at all. The man + you ask for is in France; but if he was in my sporran,” says he, “and your + belly full of shillings, I would not hurt a hair upon his body.” + </p> + <p> + I saw I had gone the wrong way to work, and without wasting time upon + apologies, showed him the button lying in the hollow of my palm. + </p> + <p> + “Aweel, aweel,” said Neil; “and I think ye might have begun with that end + of the stick, whatever! But if ye are the lad with the silver button, all + is well, and I have the word to see that ye come safe. But if ye will + pardon me to speak plainly,” says he, “there is a name that you should + never take into your mouth, and that is the name of Alan Breck; and there + is a thing that ye would never do, and that is to offer your dirty money + to a Hieland shentleman.” + </p> + <p> + It was not very easy to apologise; for I could scarce tell him (what was + the truth) that I had never dreamed he would set up to be a gentleman + until he told me so. Neil on his part had no wish to prolong his dealings + with me, only to fulfil his orders and be done with it; and he made haste + to give me my route. This was to lie the night in Kinlochaline in the + public inn; to cross Morven the next day to Ardgour, and lie the night in + the house of one John of the Claymore, who was warned that I might come; + the third day, to be set across one loch at Corran and another at + Balachulish, and then ask my way to the house of James of the Glens, at + Aucharn in Duror of Appin. There was a good deal of ferrying, as you hear; + the sea in all this part running deep into the mountains and winding about + their roots. It makes the country strong to hold and difficult to travel, + but full of prodigious wild and dreadful prospects. + </p> + <p> + I had some other advice from Neil: to speak with no one by the way, to + avoid Whigs, Campbells, and the “red-soldiers;” to leave the road and lie + in a bush if I saw any of the latter coming, “for it was never chancy to + meet in with them;” and in brief, to conduct myself like a robber or a + Jacobite agent, as perhaps Neil thought me. + </p> + <p> + The inn at Kinlochaline was the most beggarly vile place that ever pigs + were styed in, full of smoke, vermin, and silent Highlanders. I was not + only discontented with my lodging, but with myself for my mismanagement of + Neil, and thought I could hardly be worse off. But very wrongly, as I was + soon to see; for I had not been half an hour at the inn (standing in the + door most of the time, to ease my eyes from the peat smoke) when a + thunderstorm came close by, the springs broke in a little hill on which + the inn stood, and one end of the house became a running water. Places of + public entertainment were bad enough all over Scotland in those days; yet + it was a wonder to myself, when I had to go from the fireside to the bed + in which I slept, wading over the shoes. + </p> + <p> + Early in my next day’s journey I overtook a little, stout, solemn man, + walking very slowly with his toes turned out, sometimes reading in a book + and sometimes marking the place with his finger, and dressed decently and + plainly in something of a clerical style. + </p> + <p> + This I found to be another catechist, but of a different order from the + blind man of Mull: being indeed one of those sent out by the Edinburgh + Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge, to evangelise the more savage + places of the Highlands. His name was Henderland; he spoke with the broad + south-country tongue, which I was beginning to weary for the sound of; and + besides common countryship, we soon found we had a more particular bond of + interest. For my good friend, the minister of Essendean, had translated + into the Gaelic in his by-time a number of hymns and pious books which + Henderland used in his work, and held in great esteem. Indeed, it was one + of these he was carrying and reading when we met. + </p> + <p> + We fell in company at once, our ways lying together as far as to + Kingairloch. As we went, he stopped and spoke with all the wayfarers and + workers that we met or passed; and though of course I could not tell what + they discoursed about, yet I judged Mr. Henderland must be well liked in + the countryside, for I observed many of them to bring out their mulls and + share a pinch of snuff with him. + </p> + <p> + I told him as far in my affairs as I judged wise; as far, that is, as they + were none of Alan’s; and gave Balachulish as the place I was travelling + to, to meet a friend; for I thought Aucharn, or even Duror, would be too + particular, and might put him on the scent. + </p> + <p> + On his part, he told me much of his work and the people he worked among, + the hiding priests and Jacobites, the Disarming Act, the dress, and many + other curiosities of the time and place. He seemed moderate; blaming + Parliament in several points, and especially because they had framed the + Act more severely against those who wore the dress than against those who + carried weapons. + </p> + <p> + This moderation put it in my mind to question him of the Red Fox and the + Appin tenants; questions which, I thought, would seem natural enough in + the mouth of one travelling to that country. + </p> + <p> + He said it was a bad business. “It’s wonderful,” said he, “where the + tenants find the money, for their life is mere starvation. (Ye don’t carry + such a thing as snuff, do ye, Mr. Balfour? No. Well, I’m better wanting + it.) But these tenants (as I was saying) are doubtless partly driven to + it. James Stewart in Duror (that’s him they call James of the Glens) is + half-brother to Ardshiel, the captain of the clan; and he is a man much + looked up to, and drives very hard. And then there’s one they call Alan + Breck—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” I cried, “what of him?” + </p> + <p> + “What of the wind that bloweth where it listeth?” said Henderland. “He’s + here and awa; here to-day and gone to-morrow: a fair heather-cat. He might + be glowering at the two of us out of yon whin-bush, and I wouldnae wonder! + Ye’ll no carry such a thing as snuff, will ye?” + </p> + <p> + I told him no, and that he had asked the same thing more than once. + </p> + <p> + “It’s highly possible,” said he, sighing. “But it seems strange ye + shouldnae carry it. However, as I was saying, this Alan Breck is a bold, + desperate customer, and well kent to be James’s right hand. His life is + forfeit already; he would boggle at naething; and maybe, if a tenant-body + was to hang back he would get a dirk in his wame.” + </p> + <p> + “You make a poor story of it all, Mr. Henderland,” said I. “If it is all + fear upon both sides, I care to hear no more of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Na,” said Mr. Henderland, “but there’s love too, and self-denial that + should put the like of you and me to shame. There’s something fine about + it; no perhaps Christian, but humanly fine. Even Alan Breck, by all that I + hear, is a chield to be respected. There’s many a lying sneck-draw sits + close in kirk in our own part of the country, and stands well in the + world’s eye, and maybe is a far worse man, Mr. Balfour, than yon misguided + shedder of man’s blood. Ay, ay, we might take a lesson by them.—Ye’ll + perhaps think I’ve been too long in the Hielands?” he added, smiling to + me. + </p> + <p> + I told him not at all; that I had seen much to admire among the + Highlanders; and if he came to that, Mr. Campbell himself was a + Highlander. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said he, “that’s true. It’s a fine blood.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is the King’s agent about?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Colin Campbell?” says Henderland. “Putting his head in a bees’ byke!” + </p> + <p> + “He is to turn the tenants out by force, I hear?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” says he, “but the business has gone back and forth, as folk say. + First, James of the Glens rode to Edinburgh, and got some lawyer (a + Stewart, nae doubt—they all hing together like bats in a steeple) + and had the proceedings stayed. And then Colin Campbell cam’ in again, and + had the upper-hand before the Barons of Exchequer. And now they tell me + the first of the tenants are to flit to-morrow. It’s to begin at Duror + under James’s very windows, which doesnae seem wise by my humble way of + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think they’ll fight?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” says Henderland, “they’re disarmed—or supposed to be—for + there’s still a good deal of cold iron lying by in quiet places. And then + Colin Campbell has the sogers coming. But for all that, if I was his lady + wife, I wouldnae be well pleased till I got him home again. They’re queer + customers, the Appin Stewarts.” + </p> + <p> + I asked if they were worse than their neighbours. + </p> + <p> + “No they,” said he. “And that’s the worst part of it. For if Colin Roy can + get his business done in Appin, he has it all to begin again in the next + country, which they call Mamore, and which is one of the countries of the + Camerons. He’s King’s Factor upon both, and from both he has to drive out + the tenants; and indeed, Mr. Balfour (to be open with ye), it’s my belief + that if he escapes the one lot, he’ll get his death by the other.” + </p> + <p> + So we continued talking and walking the great part of the day; until at + last, Mr. Henderland after expressing his delight in my company, and + satisfaction at meeting with a friend of Mr. Campbell’s (“whom,” says he, + “I will make bold to call that sweet singer of our covenanted Zion”), + proposed that I should make a short stage, and lie the night in his house + a little beyond Kingairloch. To say truth, I was overjoyed; for I had no + great desire for John of the Claymore, and since my double misadventure, + first with the guide and next with the gentleman skipper, I stood in some + fear of any Highland stranger. Accordingly we shook hands upon the + bargain, and came in the afternoon to a small house, standing alone by the + shore of the Linnhe Loch. The sun was already gone from the desert + mountains of Ardgour upon the hither side, but shone on those of Appin on + the farther; the loch lay as still as a lake, only the gulls were crying + round the sides of it; and the whole place seemed solemn and uncouth. + </p> + <p> + We had no sooner come to the door of Mr. Henderland’s dwelling, than to my + great surprise (for I was now used to the politeness of Highlanders) he + burst rudely past me, dashed into the room, caught up a jar and a small + horn-spoon, and began ladling snuff into his nose in most excessive + quantities. Then he had a hearty fit of sneezing, and looked round upon me + with a rather silly smile. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0175m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0175m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0175.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + “It’s a vow I took,” says he. “I took a vow upon me that I wouldnae carry + it. Doubtless it’s a great privation; but when I think upon the martyrs, + not only to the Scottish Covenant but to other points of Christianity, I + think shame to mind it.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as we had eaten (and porridge and whey was the best of the good + man’s diet) he took a grave face and said he had a duty to perform by Mr. + Campbell, and that was to inquire into my state of mind towards God. I was + inclined to smile at him since the business of the snuff; but he had not + spoken long before he brought the tears into my eyes. There are two things + that men should never weary of, goodness and humility; we get none too + much of them in this rough world among cold, proud people; but Mr. + Henderland had their very speech upon his tongue. And though I was a good + deal puffed up with my adventures and with having come off, as the saying + is, with flying colours; yet he soon had me on my knees beside a simple, + poor old man, and both proud and glad to be there. + </p> + <p> + Before we went to bed he offered me sixpence to help me on my way, out of + a scanty store he kept in the turf wall of his house; at which excess of + goodness I knew not what to do. But at last he was so earnest with me that + I thought it the more mannerly part to let him have his way, and so left + him poorer than myself. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0179m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0179m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0179.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <h3> + THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9179m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9179m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9179.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + he next day Mr. Henderland found for me a man who had a boat of his own + and was to cross the Linnhe Loch that afternoon into Appin, fishing. Him + he prevailed on to take me, for he was one of his flock; and in this way I + saved a long day’s travel and the price of the two public ferries I must + otherwise have passed. + </p> + <p> + It was near noon before we set out; a dark day with clouds, and the sun + shining upon little patches. The sea was here very deep and still, and had + scarce a wave upon it; so that I must put the water to my lips before I + could believe it to be truly salt. The mountains on either side were high, + rough and barren, very black and gloomy in the shadow of the clouds, but + all silver-laced with little watercourses where the sun shone upon them. + It seemed a hard country, this of Appin, for people to care as much about + as Alan did. + </p> + <p> + There was but one thing to mention. A little after we had started, the sun + shone upon a little moving clump of scarlet close in along the water-side + to the north. It was much of the same red as soldiers’ coats; every now + and then, too, there came little sparks and lightnings, as though the sun + had struck upon bright steel. + </p> + <p> + I asked my boatman what it should be, and he answered he supposed it was + some of the red soldiers coming from Fort William into Appin, against the + poor tenantry of the country. Well, it was a sad sight to me; and whether + it was because of my thoughts of Alan, or from something prophetic in my + bosom, although this was but the second time I had seen King George’s + troops, I had no good will to them. + </p> + <p> + At last we came so near the point of land at the entering in of Loch Leven + that I begged to be set on shore. My boatman (who was an honest fellow and + mindful of his promise to the catechist) would fain have carried me on to + Balachulish; but as this was to take me farther from my secret + destination, I insisted, and was set on shore at last under the wood of + Lettermore (or Lettervore, for I have heard it both ways) in Alan’s + country of Appin. + </p> + <p> + This was a wood of birches, growing on a steep, craggy side of a mountain + that overhung the loch. It had many openings and ferny howes; and a road + or bridle track ran north and south through the midst of it, by the edge + of which, where was a spring, I sat down to eat some oat-bread of Mr. + Henderland’s and think upon my situation. + </p> + <p> + Here I was not only troubled by a cloud of stinging midges, but far more + by the doubts of my mind. What I ought to do, why I was going to join + myself with an outlaw and a would-be murderer like Alan, whether I should + not be acting more like a man of sense to tramp back to the south country + direct, by my own guidance and at my own charges, and what Mr. Campbell or + even Mr. Henderland would think of me if they should ever learn my folly + and presumption: these were the doubts that now began to come in on me + stronger than ever. + </p> + <p> + As I was so sitting and thinking, a sound of men and horses came to me + through the wood; and presently after, at a turning of the road, I saw + four travellers come into view. The way was in this part so rough and + narrow that they came single and led their horses by the reins. The first + was a great, red-headed gentleman, of an imperious and flushed face, who + carried his hat in his hand and fanned himself, for he was in a breathing + heat. The second, by his decent black garb and white wig, I correctly took + to be a lawyer. The third was a servant, and wore some part of his clothes + in tartan, which showed that his master was of a Highland family, and + either an outlaw or else in singular good odour with the Government, since + the wearing of tartan was against the Act. If I had been better versed in + these things, I would have known the tartan to be of the Argyle (or + Campbell) colours. This servant had a good-sized portmanteau strapped on + his horse, and a net of lemons (to brew punch with) hanging at the + saddle-bow; as was often enough the custom with luxurious travellers in + that part of the country. + </p> + <p> + As for the fourth, who brought up the tail, I had seen his like before, + and knew him at once to be a sheriff’s officer. + </p> + <p> + I had no sooner seen these people coming than I made up my mind (for no + reason that I can tell) to go through with my adventure; and when the + first came alongside of me, I rose up from the bracken and asked him the + way to Aucharn. + </p> + <p> + He stopped and looked at me, as I thought, a little oddly; and then, + turning to the lawyer, “Mungo,” said he, “there’s many a man would think + this more of a warning than two pyats. Here am I on my road to Duror on + the job ye ken; and here is a young lad starts up out of the bracken, and + speers if I am on the way to Aucharn.” + </p> + <p> + “Glenure,” said the other, “this is an ill subject for jesting.” + </p> + <p> + These two had now drawn close up and were gazing at me, while the two + followers had halted about a stone-cast in the rear. + </p> + <p> + “And what seek ye in Aucharn?” said Colin Roy Campbell of Glenure, him + they called the Red Fox; for he it was that I had stopped. + </p> + <p> + “The man that lives there,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “James of the Glens,” says Glenure, musingly; and then to the lawyer: “Is + he gathering his people, think ye?” + </p> + <p> + “Anyway,” says the lawyer, “we shall do better to bide where we are, and + let the soldiers rally us.” + </p> + <p> + “If you are concerned for me,” said I, “I am neither of his people nor + yours, but an honest subject of King George, owing no man and fearing no + man.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, very well said,” replies the Factor. “But if I may make so bold as + ask, what does this honest man so far from his country? and why does he + come seeking the brother of Ardshiel? I have power here, I must tell you. + I am King’s Factor upon several of these estates, and have twelve files of + soldiers at my back.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard a waif word in the country,” said I, a little nettled, “that + you were a hard man to drive.” + </p> + <p> + He still kept looking at me, as if in doubt. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said he, at last, “your tongue is bold; but I am no unfriend to + plainness. If ye had asked me the way to the door of James Stewart on any + other day but this, I would have set ye right and bidden ye God speed. But + to-day—eh, Mungo?” And he turned again to look at the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + But just as he turned there came the shot of a firelock from higher up the + hill; and with the very sound of it Glenure fell upon the road. + </p> + <p> + “O, I am dead!” he cried, several times over. + </p> + <p> + The lawyer had caught him up and held him in his arms, the servant + standing over and clasping his hands. And now the wounded man looked from + one to another with scared eyes, and there was a change in his voice, that + went to the heart. + </p> + <p> + “Take care of yourselves,” says he. “I am dead.” + </p> + <p> + He tried to open his clothes as if to look for the wound, but his fingers + slipped on the buttons. With that he gave a great sigh, his head rolled on + his shoulder, and he passed away. + </p> + <p> + The lawyer said never a word, but his face was as sharp as a pen and as + white as the dead man’s; the servant broke out into a great noise of + crying and weeping, like a child; and I, on my side, stood staring at them + in a kind of horror. The sheriff’s officer had run back at the first sound + of the shot, to hasten the coming of the soldiers. + </p> + <p> + At last the lawyer laid down the dead man in his blood upon the road, and + got to his own feet with a kind of stagger. + </p> + <p> + I believe it was his movement that brought me to my senses; for he had no + sooner done so than I began to scramble up the hill, crying out, “The + murderer! the murderer!” + </p> + <p> + So little a time had elapsed, that when I got to the top of the first + steepness, and could see some part of the open mountain, the murderer was + still moving away at no great distance. He was a big man, in a black coat, + with metal buttons, and carried a long fowling-piece. + </p> + <p> + “Here!” I cried. “I see him!” + </p> + <p> + At that the murderer gave a little, quick look over his shoulder, and + began to run. The next moment he was lost in a fringe of birches; then he + came out again on the upper side, where I could see him climbing like a + jackanapes, for that part was again very steep; and then he dipped behind + a shoulder, and I saw him no more. + </p> + <p> + All this time I had been running on my side, and had got a good way up, + when a voice cried upon me to stand. + </p> + <p> + I was at the edge of the upper wood, and so now, when I halted and looked + back, I saw all the open part of the hill below me. + </p> + <p> + The lawyer and the sheriff’s officer were standing just above the road, + crying and waving on me to come back; and on their left, the red-coats, + musket in hand, were beginning to struggle singly out of the lower wood. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I come back?” I cried. “Come you on!” + </p> + <p> + “Ten pounds if ye take that lad!” cried the lawyer. “He’s an accomplice. + He was posted here to hold us in talk.” + </p> + <p> + At that word (which I could hear quite plainly, though it was to the + soldiers and not to me that he was crying it) my heart came in my mouth + with quite a new kind of terror. Indeed, it is one thing to stand the + danger of your life, and quite another to run the peril of both life and + character. The thing, besides, had come so suddenly, like thunder out of a + clear sky, that I was all amazed and helpless. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers began to spread, some of them to run, and others to put up + their pieces and cover me; and still I stood. + </p> + <p> + “Jouk* in here among the trees,” said a voice close by. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Duck. +</pre> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0185m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0185m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0185.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + Indeed, I scarce knew what I was doing, but I obeyed; and as I did so, I + heard the firelocks bang and the balls whistle in the birches. + </p> + <p> + Just inside the shelter of the trees I found Alan Breck standing, with a + fishing-rod. He gave me no salutation; indeed it was no time for + civilities; only “Come!” says he, and set off running along the side of + the mountain towards Balachulish; and I, like a sheep, to follow him. + </p> + <p> + Now we ran among the birches; now stooping behind low humps upon the + mountain-side; now crawling on all fours among the heather. The pace was + deadly: my heart seemed bursting against my ribs; and I had neither time + to think nor breath to speak with. Only I remember seeing with wonder, + that Alan every now and then would straighten himself to his full height + and look back; and every time he did so, there came a great far-away + cheering and crying of the soldiers. + </p> + <p> + Quarter of an hour later, Alan stopped, clapped down flat in the heather, + and turned to me. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said he, “it’s earnest. Do as I do, for your life.” + </p> + <p> + And at the same speed, but now with infinitely more precaution, we traced + back again across the mountain-side by the same way that we had come, only + perhaps higher; till at last Alan threw himself down in the upper wood of + Lettermore, where I had found him at the first, and lay, with his face in + the bracken, panting like a dog. + </p> + <p> + My own sides so ached, my head so swam, my tongue so hung out of my mouth + with heat and dryness, that I lay beside him like one dead. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0188m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0188m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0188.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <h3> + I TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9188m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9188m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9188.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + lan was the first to come round. He rose, went to the border of the wood, + peered out a little, and then returned and sat down. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said he, “yon was a hot burst, David.” + </p> + <p> + I said nothing, nor so much as lifted my face. I had seen murder done, and + a great, ruddy, jovial gentleman struck out of life in a moment; the pity + of that sight was still sore within me, and yet that was but a part of my + concern. Here was murder done upon the man Alan hated; here was Alan + skulking in the trees and running from the troops; and whether his was the + hand that fired or only the head that ordered, signified but little. By my + way of it, my only friend in that wild country was blood-guilty in the + first degree; I held him in horror; I could not look upon his face; I + would have rather lain alone in the rain on my cold isle, than in that + warm wood beside a murderer. + </p> + <p> + “Are ye still wearied?” he asked again. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said I, still with my face in the bracken; “no, I am not wearied + now, and I can speak. You and me must twine,” * I said. “I liked you very + well, Alan, but your ways are not mine, and they’re not God’s: and the + short and the long of it is just that we must twine.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Part. +</pre> + <p> + “I will hardly twine from ye, David, without some kind of reason for the + same,” said Alan, mighty gravely. “If ye ken anything against my + reputation, it’s the least thing that ye should do, for old acquaintance’ + sake, to let me hear the name of it; and if ye have only taken a distaste + to my society, it will be proper for me to judge if I’m insulted.” + </p> + <p> + “Alan,” said I, “what is the sense of this? Ye ken very well yon + Campbell-man lies in his blood upon the road.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent for a little; then says he, “Did ever ye hear tell of the + story of the Man and the Good People?”—by which he meant the + fairies. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said I, “nor do I want to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + “With your permission, Mr. Balfour, I will tell it you, whatever,” says + Alan. “The man, ye should ken, was cast upon a rock in the sea, where it + appears the Good People were in use to come and rest as they went through + to Ireland. The name of this rock is called the Skerryvore, and it’s not + far from where we suffered ship-wreck. Well, it seems the man cried so + sore, if he could just see his little bairn before he died! that at last + the king of the Good People took peety upon him, and sent one flying that + brought back the bairn in a poke* and laid it down beside the man where he + lay sleeping. So when the man woke, there was a poke beside him and + something into the inside of it that moved. Well, it seems he was one of + these gentry that think aye the worst of things; and for greater security, + he stuck his dirk throughout that poke before he opened it, and there was + his bairn dead. I am thinking to myself, Mr. Balfour, that you and the man + are very much alike.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Bag. +</pre> + <p> + “Do you mean you had no hand in it?” cried I, sitting up. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you first of all, Mr. Balfour of Shaws, as one friend to + another,” said Alan, “that if I were going to kill a gentleman, it would + not be in my own country, to bring trouble on my clan; and I would not go + wanting sword and gun, and with a long fishing-rod upon my back.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “that’s true!” + </p> + <p> + “And now,” continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying his hand upon it + in a certain manner, “I swear upon the Holy Iron I had neither art nor + part, act nor thought in it.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank God for that!” cried I, and offered him my hand. + </p> + <p> + He did not appear to see it. + </p> + <p> + “And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell!” said he. “They are + not so scarce, that I ken!” + </p> + <p> + “At least,” said I, “you cannot justly blame me, for you know very well + what you told me in the brig. But the temptation and the act are + different, I thank God again for that. We may all be tempted; but to take + a life in cold blood, Alan!” And I could say no more for the moment. “And + do you know who did it?” I added. “Do you know that man in the black + coat?” + </p> + <p> + “I have nae clear mind about his coat,” said Alan cunningly, “but it + sticks in my head that it was blue.” + </p> + <p> + “Blue or black, did ye know him?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I couldnae just conscientiously swear to him,” says Alan. “He gaed very + close by me, to be sure, but it’s a strange thing that I should just have + been tying my brogues.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you swear that you don’t know him, Alan?” I cried, half angered, half + in a mind to laugh at his evasions. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” says he; “but I’ve a grand memory for forgetting, David.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet there was one thing I saw clearly,” said I; “and that was, that + you exposed yourself and me to draw the soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s very likely,” said Alan; “and so would any gentleman. You and me + were innocent of that transaction.” + </p> + <p> + “The better reason, since we were falsely suspected, that we should get + clear,” I cried. “The innocent should surely come before the guilty.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, David,” said he, “the innocent have aye a chance to get assoiled in + court; but for the lad that shot the bullet, I think the best place for + him will be the heather. Them that havenae dipped their hands in any + little difficulty, should be very mindful of the case of them that have. + And that is the good Christianity. For if it was the other way round + about, and the lad whom I couldnae just clearly see had been in our shoes, + and we in his (as might very well have been), I think we would be a good + deal obliged to him oursel’s if he would draw the soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + When it came to this, I gave Alan up. But he looked so innocent all the + time, and was in such clear good faith in what he said, and so ready to + sacrifice himself for what he deemed his duty, that my mouth was closed. + Mr. Henderland’s words came back to me: that we ourselves might take a + lesson by these wild Highlanders. Well, here I had taken mine. Alan’s + morals were all tail-first; but he was ready to give his life for them, + such as they were. + </p> + <p> + “Alan,” said I, “I’ll not say it’s the good Christianity as I understand + it, but it’s good enough. And here I offer ye my hand for the second + time.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon he gave me both of his, saying surely I had cast a spell upon + him, for he could forgive me anything. Then he grew very grave, and said + we had not much time to throw away, but must both flee that country: he, + because he was a deserter, and the whole of Appin would now be searched + like a chamber, and every one obliged to give a good account of himself; + and I, because I was certainly involved in the murder. + </p> + <p> + “O!” says I, willing to give him a little lesson, “I have no fear of the + justice of my country.” + </p> + <p> + “As if this was your country!” said he. “Or as if ye would be tried here, + in a country of Stewarts!” + </p> + <p> + “It’s all Scotland,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Man, I whiles wonder at ye,” said Alan. “This is a Campbell that’s been + killed. Well, it’ll be tried in Inverara, the Campbells’ head place; with + fifteen Campbells in the jury-box and the biggest Campbell of all (and + that’s the Duke) sitting cocking on the bench. Justice, David? The same + justice, by all the world, as Glenure found awhile ago at the roadside.” + </p> + <p> + This frightened me a little, I confess, and would have frightened me more + if I had known how nearly exact were Alan’s predictions; indeed it was but + in one point that he exaggerated, there being but eleven Campbells on the + jury; though as the other four were equally in the Duke’s dependence, it + mattered less than might appear. Still, I cried out that he was unjust to + the Duke of Argyle, who (for all he was a Whig) was yet a wise and honest + nobleman. + </p> + <p> + “Hoot!” said Alan, “the man’s a Whig, nae doubt; but I would never deny he + was a good chieftain to his clan. And what would the clan think if there + was a Campbell shot, and naebody hanged, and their own chief the Justice + General? But I have often observed,” says Alan, “that you Low-country + bodies have no clear idea of what’s right and wrong.” + </p> + <p> + At this I did at last laugh out aloud, when to my surprise, Alan joined + in, and laughed as merrily as myself. + </p> + <p> + “Na, na,” said he, “we’re in the Hielands, David; and when I tell ye to + run, take my word and run. Nae doubt it’s a hard thing to skulk and starve + in the Heather, but it’s harder yet to lie shackled in a red-coat prison.” + </p> + <p> + I asked him whither we should flee; and as he told me “to the Lowlands,” I + was a little better inclined to go with him; for, indeed, I was growing + impatient to get back and have the upper-hand of my uncle. Besides, Alan + made so sure there would be no question of justice in the matter, that I + began to be afraid he might be right. Of all deaths, I would truly like + least to die by the gallows; and the picture of that uncanny instrument + came into my head with extraordinary clearness (as I had once seen it + engraved at the top of a pedlar’s ballad) and took away my appetite for + courts of justice. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll chance it, Alan,” said I. “I’ll go with you.” + </p> + <p> + “But mind you,” said Alan, “it’s no small thing. Ye maun lie bare and + hard, and brook many an empty belly. Your bed shall be the moorcock’s, and + your life shall be like the hunted deer’s, and ye shall sleep with your + hand upon your weapons. Ay, man, ye shall taigle many a weary foot, or we + get clear! I tell ye this at the start, for it’s a life that I ken well. + But if ye ask what other chance ye have, I answer: Nane. Either take to + the heather with me, or else hang.” + </p> + <p> + “And that’s a choice very easily made,” said I; and we shook hands upon + it. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0193m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0193m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0193.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + “And now let’s take another peek at the red-coats,” says Alan, and he led + me to the north-eastern fringe of the wood. + </p> + <p> + Looking out between the trees, we could see a great side of mountain, + running down exceeding steep into the waters of the loch. It was a rough + part, all hanging stone, and heather, and big scrogs of birchwood; and + away at the far end towards Balachulish, little wee red soldiers were + dipping up and down over hill and howe, and growing smaller every minute. + There was no cheering now, for I think they had other uses for what breath + was left them; but they still stuck to the trail, and doubtless thought + that we were close in front of them. + </p> + <p> + Alan watched them, smiling to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said he, “they’ll be gey weary before they’ve got to the end of that + employ! And so you and me, David, can sit down and eat a bite, and breathe + a bit longer, and take a dram from my bottle. Then we’ll strike for + Aucharn, the house of my kinsman, James of the Glens, where I must get my + clothes, and my arms, and money to carry us along; and then, David, we’ll + cry, ‘Forth, Fortune!’ and take a cast among the heather.” + </p> + <p> + So we sat again and ate and drank, in a place whence we could see the sun + going down into a field of great, wild, and houseless mountains, such as I + was now condemned to wander in with my companion. Partly as we so sat, and + partly afterwards, on the way to Aucharn, each of us narrated his + adventures; and I shall here set down so much of Alan’s as seems either + curious or needful. + </p> + <p> + It appears he ran to the bulwarks as soon as the wave was passed; saw me, + and lost me, and saw me again, as I tumbled in the roost; and at last had + one glimpse of me clinging on the yard. It was this that put him in some + hope I would maybe get to land after all, and made him leave those clues + and messages which had brought me (for my sins) to that unlucky country of + Appin. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile, those still on the brig had got the skiff launched, and + one or two were on board of her already, when there came a second wave + greater than the first, and heaved the brig out of her place, and would + certainly have sent her to the bottom, had she not struck and caught on + some projection of the reef. When she had struck first, it had been + bows-on, so that the stern had hitherto been lowest. But now her stern was + thrown in the air, and the bows plunged under the sea; and with that, the + water began to pour into the fore-scuttle like the pouring of a mill-dam. + </p> + <p> + It took the colour out of Alan’s face, even to tell what followed. For + there were still two men lying impotent in their bunks; and these, seeing + the water pour in and thinking the ship had foundered, began to cry out + aloud, and that with such harrowing cries that all who were on deck + tumbled one after another into the skiff and fell to their oars. They were + not two hundred yards away, when there came a third great sea; and at that + the brig lifted clean over the reef; her canvas filled for a moment, and + she seemed to sail in chase of them, but settling all the while; and + presently she drew down and down, as if a hand was drawing her; and the + sea closed over the Covenant of Dysart. + </p> + <p> + Never a word they spoke as they pulled ashore, being stunned with the + horror of that screaming; but they had scarce set foot upon the beach when + Hoseason woke up, as if out of a muse, and bade them lay hands upon Alan. + They hung back indeed, having little taste for the employment; but + Hoseason was like a fiend, crying that Alan was alone, that he had a great + sum about him, that he had been the means of losing the brig and drowning + all their comrades, and that here was both revenge and wealth upon a + single cast. It was seven against one; in that part of the shore there was + no rock that Alan could set his back to; and the sailors began to spread + out and come behind him. + </p> + <p> + “And then,” said Alan, “the little man with the red head—I havenae + mind of the name that he is called.” + </p> + <p> + “Riach,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Ay” said Alan, “Riach! Well, it was him that took up the clubs for me, + asked the men if they werenae feared of a judgment, and, says he ‘Dod, + I’ll put my back to the Hielandman’s mysel’.’ That’s none such an entirely + bad little man, yon little man with the red head,” said Alan. “He has some + spunks of decency.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “he was kind to me in his way.” + </p> + <p> + “And so he was to Alan,” said he; “and by my troth, I found his way a very + good one! But ye see, David, the loss of the ship and the cries of these + poor lads sat very ill upon the man; and I’m thinking that would be the + cause of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I would think so,” says I; “for he was as keen as any of the rest + at the beginning. But how did Hoseason take it?” + </p> + <p> + “It sticks in my mind that he would take it very ill,” says Alan. “But the + little man cried to me to run, and indeed I thought it was a good observe, + and ran. The last that I saw they were all in a knot upon the beach, like + folk that were not agreeing very well together.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the fists were going,” said Alan; “and I saw one man go down like a + pair of breeks. But I thought it would be better no to wait. Ye see + there’s a strip of Campbells in that end of Mull, which is no good company + for a gentleman like me. If it hadnae been for that I would have waited + and looked for ye mysel’, let alone giving a hand to the little man.” (It + was droll how Alan dwelt on Mr. Riach’s stature, for, to say the truth, + the one was not much smaller than the other.) “So,” says he, continuing, + “I set my best foot forward, and whenever I met in with any one I cried + out there was a wreck ashore. Man, they didnae stop to fash with me! Ye + should have seen them linking for the beach! And when they got there they + found they had had the pleasure of a run, which is aye good for a + Campbell. I’m thinking it was a judgment on the clan that the brig went + down in the lump and didnae break. But it was a very unlucky thing for + you, that same; for if any wreck had come ashore they would have hunted + high and low, and would soon have found ye.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0199m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0199m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0199.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <h3> + THE HOUSE OF FEAR + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9199m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9199m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9199.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + ight fell as we were walking, and the clouds, which had broken up in the + afternoon, settled in and thickened, so that it fell, for the season of + the year, extremely dark. The way we went was over rough mountainsides; + and though Alan pushed on with an assured manner, I could by no means see + how he directed himself. + </p> + <p> + At last, about half-past ten of the clock, we came to the top of a brae, + and saw lights below us. It seemed a house door stood open and let out a + beam of fire and candle-light; and all round the house and steading five + or six persons were moving hurriedly about, each carrying a lighted brand. + </p> + <p> + “James must have tint his wits,” said Alan. “If this was the soldiers + instead of you and me, he would be in a bonny mess. But I dare say he’ll + have a sentry on the road, and he would ken well enough no soldiers would + find the way that we came.” + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0201m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0201m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0201.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + Hereupon he whistled three times, in a particular manner. It was strange + to see how, at the first sound of it, all the moving torches came to a + stand, as if the bearers were affrighted; and how, at the third, the + bustle began again as before. + </p> + <p> + Having thus set folks’ minds at rest, we came down the brae, and were met + at the yard gate (for this place was like a well-doing farm) by a tall, + handsome man of more than fifty, who cried out to Alan in the Gaelic. + </p> + <p> + “James Stewart,” said Alan, “I will ask ye to speak in Scotch, for here is + a young gentleman with me that has nane of the other. This is him,” he + added, putting his arm through mine, “a young gentleman of the Lowlands, + and a laird in his country too, but I am thinking it will be the better + for his health if we give his name the go-by.” + </p> + <p> + James of the Glens turned to me for a moment, and greeted me courteously + enough; the next he had turned to Alan. + </p> + <p> + “This has been a dreadful accident,” he cried. “It will bring trouble on + the country.” And he wrung his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Hoots!” said Alan, “ye must take the sour with the sweet, man. Colin Roy + is dead, and be thankful for that!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay” said James, “and by my troth, I wish he was alive again! It’s all + very fine to blow and boast beforehand; but now it’s done, Alan; and who’s + to bear the wyte* of it? The accident fell out in Appin—mind ye + that, Alan; it’s Appin that must pay; and I am a man that has a family.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Blame. +</pre> + <p> + While this was going on I looked about me at the servants. Some were on + ladders, digging in the thatch of the house or the farm buildings, from + which they brought out guns, swords, and different weapons of war; others + carried them away; and by the sound of mattock blows from somewhere + farther down the brae, I suppose they buried them. Though they were all so + busy, there prevailed no kind of order in their efforts; men struggled + together for the same gun and ran into each other with their burning + torches; and James was continually turning about from his talk with Alan, + to cry out orders which were apparently never understood. The faces in the + torchlight were like those of people overborne with hurry and panic; and + though none spoke above his breath, their speech sounded both anxious and + angry. + </p> + <p> + It was about this time that a lassie came out of the house carrying a pack + or bundle; and it has often made me smile to think how Alan’s instinct + awoke at the mere sight of it. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that the lassie has?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “We’re just setting the house in order, Alan,” said James, in his + frightened and somewhat fawning way. “They’ll search Appin with candles, + and we must have all things straight. We’re digging the bit guns and + swords into the moss, ye see; and these, I am thinking, will be your ain + French clothes. We’ll be to bury them, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Bury my French clothes!” cried Alan. “Troth, no!” And he laid hold upon + the packet and retired into the barn to shift himself, recommending me in + the meanwhile to his kinsman. + </p> + <p> + James carried me accordingly into the kitchen, and sat down with me at + table, smiling and talking at first in a very hospitable manner. But + presently the gloom returned upon him; he sat frowning and biting his + fingers; only remembered me from time to time; and then gave me but a word + or two and a poor smile, and back into his private terrors. His wife sat + by the fire and wept, with her face in her hands; his eldest son was + crouched upon the floor, running over a great mass of papers and now and + again setting one alight and burning it to the bitter end; all the while a + servant lass with a red face was rummaging about the room, in a blind + hurry of fear, and whimpering as she went; and every now and again one of + the men would thrust in his face from the yard, and cry for orders. + </p> + <p> + At last James could keep his seat no longer, and begged my permission to + be so unmannerly as walk about. “I am but poor company altogether, sir,” + says he, “but I can think of nothing but this dreadful accident, and the + trouble it is like to bring upon quite innocent persons.” + </p> + <p> + A little after he observed his son burning a paper which he thought should + have been kept; and at that his excitement burst out so that it was + painful to witness. He struck the lad repeatedly. + </p> + <p> + “Are you gone gyte?” * he cried. “Do you wish to hang your father?” and + forgetful of my presence, carried on at him a long time together in the + Gaelic, the young man answering nothing; only the wife, at the name of + hanging, throwing her apron over her face and sobbing out louder than + before. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Mad. +</pre> + <p> + This was all wretched for a stranger like myself to hear and see; and I + was right glad when Alan returned, looking like himself in his fine French + clothes, though (to be sure) they were now grown almost too battered and + withered to deserve the name of fine. I was then taken out in my turn by + another of the sons, and given that change of clothing of which I had + stood so long in need, and a pair of Highland brogues made of + deer-leather, rather strange at first, but after a little practice very + easy to the feet. + </p> + <p> + By the time I came back Alan must have told his story; for it seemed + understood that I was to fly with him, and they were all busy upon our + equipment. They gave us each a sword and pistols, though I professed my + inability to use the former; and with these, and some ammunition, a bag of + oatmeal, an iron pan, and a bottle of right French brandy, we were ready + for the heather. Money, indeed, was lacking. I had about two guineas left; + Alan’s belt having been despatched by another hand, that trusty messenger + had no more than seventeen-pence to his whole fortune; and as for James, + it appears he had brought himself so low with journeys to Edinburgh and + legal expenses on behalf of the tenants, that he could only scrape + together three-and-five-pence-halfpenny, the most of it in coppers. + </p> + <p> + “This’ll no do,” said Alan. + </p> + <p> + “Ye must find a safe bit somewhere near by,” said James, “and get word + sent to me. Ye see, ye’ll have to get this business prettily off, Alan. + This is no time to be stayed for a guinea or two. They’re sure to get wind + of ye, sure to seek ye, and by my way of it, sure to lay on ye the wyte of + this day’s accident. If it falls on you, it falls on me that am your near + kinsman and harboured ye while ye were in the country. And if it comes on + me——” he paused, and bit his fingers, with a white face. “It + would be a painful thing for our friends if I was to hang,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “It would be an ill day for Appin,” says Alan. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a day that sticks in my throat,” said James. “O man, man, man—man + Alan! you and me have spoken like two fools!” he cried, striking his hand + upon the wall so that the house rang again. + </p> + <p> + “Well, and that’s true, too,” said Alan; “and my friend from the Lowlands + here” (nodding at me) “gave me a good word upon that head, if I would only + have listened to him.” + </p> + <p> + “But see here,” said James, returning to his former manner, “if they lay + me by the heels, Alan, it’s then that you’ll be needing the money. For + with all that I have said and that you have said, it will look very black + against the two of us; do ye mark that? Well, follow me out, and ye’ll, + I’ll see that I’ll have to get a paper out against ye mysel’; have to + offer a reward for ye; ay, will I! It’s a sore thing to do between such + near friends; but if I get the dirdum* of this dreadful accident, I’ll + have to fend for myself, man. Do ye see that?” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Blame. +</pre> + <p> + He spoke with a pleading earnestness, taking Alan by the breast of the + coat. + </p> + <p> + “Ay” said Alan, “I see that.” + </p> + <p> + “And ye’ll have to be clear of the country, Alan—ay, and clear of + Scotland—you and your friend from the Lowlands, too. For I’ll have + to paper your friend from the Lowlands. Ye see that, Alan—say that + ye see that!” + </p> + <p> + I thought Alan flushed a bit. “This is unco hard on me that brought him + here, James,” said he, throwing his head back. “It’s like making me a + traitor!” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Alan, man!” cried James. “Look things in the face! He’ll be papered + anyway; Mungo Campbell’ll be sure to paper him; what matters if I paper + him too? And then, Alan, I am a man that has a family.” And then, after a + little pause on both sides, “And, Alan, it’ll be a jury of Campbells,” + said he. + </p> + <p> + “There’s one thing,” said Alan, musingly, “that naebody kens his name.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor yet they shallnae, Alan! There’s my hand on that,” cried James, for + all the world as if he had really known my name and was foregoing some + advantage. “But just the habit he was in, and what he looked like, and his + age, and the like? I couldnae well do less.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder at your father’s son,” cried Alan, sternly. “Would ye sell the + lad with a gift? Would ye change his clothes and then betray him?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Alan,” said James. “No, no: the habit he took off—the habit + Mungo saw him in.” But I thought he seemed crestfallen; indeed, he was + clutching at every straw, and all the time, I dare say, saw the faces of + his hereditary foes on the bench, and in the jury-box, and the gallows in + the background. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” says Alan, turning to me, “what say ye to that? Ye are here + under the safeguard of my honour; and it’s my part to see nothing done but + what shall please you.” + </p> + <p> + “I have but one word to say,” said I; “for to all this dispute I am a + perfect stranger. But the plain common-sense is to set the blame where it + belongs, and that is on the man who fired the shot. Paper him, as ye call + it, set the hunt on him; and let honest, innocent folk show their faces in + safety.” But at this both Alan and James cried out in horror; bidding me + hold my tongue, for that was not to be thought of; and asking me what the + Camerons would think? (which confirmed me, it must have been a Cameron + from Mamore that did the act) and if I did not see that the lad might be + caught? “Ye havenae surely thought of that?” said they, with such innocent + earnestness, that my hands dropped at my side and I despaired of argument. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then,” said I, “paper me, if you please, paper Alan, paper + King George! We’re all three innocent, and that seems to be what’s wanted. + But at least, sir,” said I to James, recovering from my little fit of + annoyance, “I am Alan’s friend, and if I can be helpful to friends of his, + I will not stumble at the risk.” + </p> + <p> + I thought it best to put a fair face on my consent, for I saw Alan + troubled; and, besides (thinks I to myself), as soon as my back is turned, + they will paper me, as they call it, whether I consent or not. But in this + I saw I was wrong; for I had no sooner said the words, than Mrs. Stewart + leaped out of her chair, came running over to us, and wept first upon my + neck and then on Alan’s, blessing God for our goodness to her family. + </p> + <p> + “As for you, Alan, it was no more than your bounden duty,” she said. “But + for this lad that has come here and seen us at our worst, and seen the + goodman fleeching like a suitor, him that by rights should give his + commands like any king—as for you, my lad,” she says, “my heart is + wae not to have your name, but I have your face; and as long as my heart + beats under my bosom, I will keep it, and think of it, and bless it.” And + with that she kissed me, and burst once more into such sobbing, that I + stood abashed. + </p> + <p> + “Hoot, hoot,” said Alan, looking mighty silly. “The day comes unco soon in + this month of July; and to-morrow there’ll be a fine to-do in Appin, a + fine riding of dragoons, and crying of ‘Cruachan!’ * and running of + red-coats; and it behoves you and me to the sooner be gone.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * The rallying-word of the Campbells. +</pre> + <p> + Thereupon we said farewell, and set out again, bending somewhat eastwards, + in a fine mild dark night, and over much the same broken country as + before. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0208m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0208m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0208.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <h3> + THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9208m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9208m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9208.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + ometimes we walked, sometimes ran; and as it drew on to morning, walked + ever the less and ran the more. Though, upon its face, that country + appeared to be a desert, yet there were huts and houses of the people, of + which we must have passed more than twenty, hidden in quiet places of the + hills. When we came to one of these, Alan would leave me in the way, and + go himself and rap upon the side of the house and speak awhile at the + window with some sleeper awakened. This was to pass the news; which, in + that country, was so much of a duty that Alan must pause to attend to it + even while fleeing for his life; and so well attended to by others, that + in more than half of the houses where we called they had heard already of + the murder. In the others, as well as I could make out (standing back at a + distance and hearing a strange tongue), the news was received with more of + consternation than surprise. + </p> + <p> + For all our hurry, day began to come in while we were still far from any + shelter. It found us in a prodigious valley, strewn with rocks and where + ran a foaming river. Wild mountains stood around it; there grew there + neither grass nor trees; and I have sometimes thought since then, that it + may have been the valley called Glencoe, where the massacre was in the + time of King William. But for the details of our itinerary, I am all to + seek; our way lying now by short cuts, now by great detours; our pace + being so hurried, our time of journeying usually by night; and the names + of such places as I asked and heard being in the Gaelic tongue and the + more easily forgotten. + </p> + <p> + The first peep of morning, then, showed us this horrible place, and I + could see Alan knit his brow. + </p> + <p> + “This is no fit place for you and me,” he said. “This is a place they’re + bound to watch.” + </p> + <p> + And with that he ran harder than ever down to the water-side, in a part + where the river was split in two among three rocks. It went through with a + horrid thundering that made my belly quake; and there hung over the lynn a + little mist of spray. Alan looked neither to the right nor to the left, + but jumped clean upon the middle rock and fell there on his hands and + knees to check himself, for that rock was small and he might have pitched + over on the far side. I had scarce time to measure the distance or to + understand the peril before I had followed him, and he had caught and + stopped me. + </p> + <p> + So there we stood, side by side upon a small rock slippery with spray, a + far broader leap in front of us, and the river dinning upon all sides. + When I saw where I was, there came on me a deadly sickness of fear, and I + put my hand over my eyes. Alan took me and shook me; I saw he was + speaking, but the roaring of the falls and the trouble of my mind + prevented me from hearing; only I saw his face was red with anger, and + that he stamped upon the rock. The same look showed me the water raging + by, and the mist hanging in the air: and with that I covered my eyes again + and shuddered. + </p> + <p> + The next minute Alan had set the brandy bottle to my lips, and forced me + to drink about a gill, which sent the blood into my head again. Then, + putting his hands to his mouth, and his mouth to my ear, he shouted, “Hang + or drown!” and turning his back upon me, leaped over the farther branch of + the stream, and landed safe. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0211m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0211m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0211.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + I was now alone upon the rock, which gave me the more room; the brandy was + singing in my ears; I had this good example fresh before me, and just wit + enough to see that if I did not leap at once, I should never leap at all. + I bent low on my knees and flung myself forth, with that kind of anger of + despair that has sometimes stood me in stead of courage. Sure enough, it + was but my hands that reached the full length; these slipped, caught + again, slipped again; and I was sliddering back into the lynn, when Alan + seized me, first by the hair, then by the collar, and with a great strain + dragged me into safety. + </p> + <p> + Never a word he said, but set off running again for his life, and I must + stagger to my feet and run after him. I had been weary before, but now I + was sick and bruised, and partly drunken with the brandy; I kept stumbling + as I ran, I had a stitch that came near to overmaster me; and when at last + Alan paused under a great rock that stood there among a number of others, + it was none too soon for David Balfour. + </p> + <p> + A great rock I have said; but by rights it was two rocks leaning together + at the top, both some twenty feet high, and at the first sight + inaccessible. Even Alan (though you may say he had as good as four hands) + failed twice in an attempt to climb them; and it was only at the third + trial, and then by standing on my shoulders and leaping up with such force + as I thought must have broken my collar-bone, that he secured a lodgment. + Once there, he let down his leathern girdle; and with the aid of that and + a pair of shallow footholds in the rock, I scrambled up beside him. + </p> + <p> + Then I saw why we had come there; for the two rocks, being both somewhat + hollow on the top and sloping one to the other, made a kind of dish or + saucer, where as many as three or four men might have lain hidden. + </p> + <p> + All this while Alan had not said a word, and had run and climbed with such + a savage, silent frenzy of hurry, that I knew that he was in mortal fear + of some miscarriage. Even now we were on the rock he said nothing, nor so + much as relaxed the frowning look upon his face; but clapped flat down, + and keeping only one eye above the edge of our place of shelter scouted + all round the compass. The dawn had come quite clear; we could see the + stony sides of the valley, and its bottom, which was bestrewed with rocks, + and the river, which went from one side to another, and made white falls; + but nowhere the smoke of a house, nor any living creature but some eagles + screaming round a cliff. + </p> + <p> + Then at last Alan smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Ay” said he, “now we have a chance;” and then looking at me with some + amusement, “Ye’re no very gleg* at the jumping,” said he. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Brisk. +</pre> + <p> + At this I suppose I coloured with mortification, for he added at once, + “Hoots! small blame to ye! To be feared of a thing and yet to do it, is + what makes the prettiest kind of a man. And then there was water there, + and water’s a thing that dauntons even me. No, no,” said Alan, “it’s no + you that’s to blame, it’s me.” + </p> + <p> + I asked him why. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said he, “I have proved myself a gomeral this night. For first of + all I take a wrong road, and that in my own country of Appin; so that the + day has caught us where we should never have been; and thanks to that, we + lie here in some danger and mair discomfort. And next (which is the worst + of the two, for a man that has been so much among the heather as myself) I + have come wanting a water-bottle, and here we lie for a long summer’s day + with naething but neat spirit. Ye may think that a small matter; but + before it comes night, David, ye’ll give me news of it.” + </p> + <p> + I was anxious to redeem my character, and offered, if he would pour out + the brandy, to run down and fill the bottle at the river. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldnae waste the good spirit either,” says he. “It’s been a good + friend to you this night; or in my poor opinion, ye would still be cocking + on yon stone. And what’s mair,” says he, “ye may have observed (you that’s + a man of so much penetration) that Alan Breck Stewart was perhaps walking + quicker than his ordinar’.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” I cried, “you were running fit to burst.” + </p> + <p> + “Was I so?” said he. “Well, then, ye may depend upon it, there was nae + time to be lost. And now here is enough said; gang you to your sleep, lad, + and I’ll watch.” + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, I lay down to sleep; a little peaty earth had drifted in + between the top of the two rocks, and some bracken grew there, to be a bed + to me; the last thing I heard was still the crying of the eagles. + </p> + <p> + I dare say it would be nine in the morning when I was roughly awakened, + and found Alan’s hand pressed upon my mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Wheesht!” he whispered. “Ye were snoring.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, surprised at his anxious and dark face, “and why not?” + </p> + <p> + He peered over the edge of the rock, and signed to me to do the like. + </p> + <p> + It was now high day, cloudless, and very hot. The valley was as clear as + in a picture. About half a mile up the water was a camp of red-coats; a + big fire blazed in their midst, at which some were cooking; and near by, + on the top of a rock about as high as ours, there stood a sentry, with the + sun sparkling on his arms. All the way down along the river-side were + posted other sentries; here near together, there widelier scattered; some + planted like the first, on places of command, some on the ground level and + marching and counter-marching, so as to meet half-way. Higher up the glen, + where the ground was more open, the chain of posts was continued by + horse-soldiers, whom we could see in the distance riding to and fro. Lower + down, the infantry continued; but as the stream was suddenly swelled by + the confluence of a considerable burn, they were more widely set, and only + watched the fords and stepping-stones. + </p> + <p> + I took but one look at them, and ducked again into my place. It was + strange indeed to see this valley, which had lain so solitary in the hour + of dawn, bristling with arms and dotted with the red coats and breeches. + </p> + <p> + “Ye see,” said Alan, “this was what I was afraid of, Davie: that they + would watch the burn-side. They began to come in about two hours ago, and, + man! but ye’re a grand hand at the sleeping! We’re in a narrow place. If + they get up the sides of the hill, they could easy spy us with a glass; + but if they’ll only keep in the foot of the valley, we’ll do yet. The + posts are thinner down the water; and, come night, we’ll try our hand at + getting by them.” + </p> + <p> + “And what are we to do till night?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Lie here,” says he, “and birstle.” + </p> + <p> + That one good Scotch word, “birstle,” was indeed the most of the story of + the day that we had now to pass. You are to remember that we lay on the + bare top of a rock, like scones upon a girdle; the sun beat upon us + cruelly; the rock grew so heated, a man could scarce endure the touch of + it; and the little patch of earth and fern, which kept cooler, was only + large enough for one at a time. We took turn about to lie on the naked + rock, which was indeed like the position of that saint that was martyred + on a gridiron; and it ran in my mind how strange it was, that in the same + climate and at only a few days’ distance, I should have suffered so + cruelly, first from cold upon my island and now from heat upon this rock. + </p> + <p> + All the while we had no water, only raw brandy for a drink, which was + worse than nothing; but we kept the bottle as cool as we could, burying it + in the earth, and got some relief by bathing our breasts and temples. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers kept stirring all day in the bottom of the valley, now + changing guard, now in patrolling parties hunting among the rocks. These + lay round in so great a number, that to look for men among them was like + looking for a needle in a bottle of hay; and being so hopeless a task, it + was gone about with the less care. Yet we could see the soldiers pike + their bayonets among the heather, which sent a cold thrill into my vitals; + and they would sometimes hang about our rock, so that we scarce dared to + breathe. + </p> + <p> + It was in this way that I first heard the right English speech; one fellow + as he went by actually clapping his hand upon the sunny face of the rock + on which we lay, and plucking it off again with an oath. “I tell you it’s + ‘ot,” says he; and I was amazed at the clipping tones and the odd + sing-song in which he spoke, and no less at that strange trick of dropping + out the letter “h.” To be sure, I had heard Ransome; but he had taken his + ways from all sorts of people, and spoke so imperfectly at the best, that + I set down the most of it to childishness. My surprise was all the greater + to hear that manner of speaking in the mouth of a grown man; and indeed I + have never grown used to it; nor yet altogether with the English grammar, + as perhaps a very critical eye might here and there spy out even in these + memoirs. + </p> + <p> + The tediousness and pain of these hours upon the rock grew only the + greater as the day went on; the rock getting still the hotter and the sun + fiercer. There were giddiness, and sickness, and sharp pangs like + rheumatism, to be supported. I minded then, and have often minded since, + on the lines in our Scotch psalm:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The moon by night thee shall not smite, + Nor yet the sun by day;” + </pre> + <p> + and indeed it was only by God’s blessing that we were neither of us + sun-smitten. + </p> + <p> + At last, about two, it was beyond men’s bearing, and there was now + temptation to resist, as well as pain to thole. For the sun being now got + a little into the west, there came a patch of shade on the east side of + our rock, which was the side sheltered from the soldiers. + </p> + <p> + “As well one death as another,” said Alan, and slipped over the edge and + dropped on the ground on the shadowy side. + </p> + <p> + I followed him at once, and instantly fell all my length, so weak was I + and so giddy with that long exposure. Here, then, we lay for an hour or + two, aching from head to foot, as weak as water, and lying quite naked to + the eye of any soldier who should have strolled that way. None came, + however, all passing by on the other side; so that our rock continued to + be our shield even in this new position. + </p> + <p> + Presently we began again to get a little strength; and as the soldiers + were now lying closer along the river-side, Alan proposed that we should + try a start. I was by this time afraid of but one thing in the world; and + that was to be set back upon the rock; anything else was welcome to me; so + we got ourselves at once in marching order, and began to slip from rock to + rock one after the other, now crawling flat on our bellies in the shade, + now making a run for it, heart in mouth. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers, having searched this side of the valley after a fashion, and + being perhaps somewhat sleepy with the sultriness of the afternoon, had + now laid by much of their vigilance, and stood dozing at their posts or + only kept a look-out along the banks of the river; so that in this way, + keeping down the valley and at the same time towards the mountains, we + drew steadily away from their neighbourhood. But the business was the most + wearing I had ever taken part in. A man had need of a hundred eyes in + every part of him, to keep concealed in that uneven country and within cry + of so many and scattered sentries. When we must pass an open place, + quickness was not all, but a swift judgment not only of the lie of the + whole country, but of the solidity of every stone on which we must set + foot; for the afternoon was now fallen so breathless that the rolling of a + pebble sounded abroad like a pistol shot, and would start the echo calling + among the hills and cliffs. + </p> + <p> + By sundown we had made some distance, even by our slow rate of progress, + though to be sure the sentry on the rock was still plainly in our view. + But now we came on something that put all fears out of season; and that + was a deep rushing burn, that tore down, in that part, to join the glen + river. At the sight of this we cast ourselves on the ground and plunged + head and shoulders in the water; and I cannot tell which was the more + pleasant, the great shock as the cool stream went over us, or the greed + with which we drank of it. + </p> + <p> + We lay there (for the banks hid us), drank again and again, bathed our + chests, let our wrists trail in the running water till they ached with the + chill; and at last, being wonderfully renewed, we got out the meal-bag and + made drammach in the iron pan. This, though it is but cold water mingled + with oatmeal, yet makes a good enough dish for a hungry man; and where + there are no means of making fire, or (as in our case) good reason for not + making one, it is the chief stand-by of those who have taken to the + heather. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the shadow of the night had fallen, we set forth again, at + first with the same caution, but presently with more boldness, standing + our full height and stepping out at a good pace of walking. The way was + very intricate, lying up the steep sides of mountains and along the brows + of cliffs; clouds had come in with the sunset, and the night was dark and + cool; so that I walked without much fatigue, but in continual fear of + falling and rolling down the mountains, and with no guess at our + direction. + </p> + <p> + The moon rose at last and found us still on the road; it was in its last + quarter, and was long beset with clouds; but after awhile shone out and + showed me many dark heads of mountains, and was reflected far underneath + us on the narrow arm of a sea-loch. + </p> + <p> + At this sight we both paused: I struck with wonder to find myself so high + and walking (as it seemed to me) upon clouds; Alan to make sure of his + direction. + </p> + <p> + Seemingly he was well pleased, and he must certainly have judged us out of + ear-shot of all our enemies; for throughout the rest of our night-march he + beguiled the way with whistling of many tunes, warlike, merry, plaintive; + reel tunes that made the foot go faster; tunes of my own south country + that made me fain to be home from my adventures; and all these, on the + great, dark, desert mountains, making company upon the way. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0220m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0220m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0220.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <h3> + THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9220m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9220m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9220.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + arly as day comes in the beginning of July, it was still dark when we + reached our destination, a cleft in the head of a great mountain, with a + water running through the midst, and upon the one hand a shallow cave in a + rock. Birches grew there in a thin, pretty wood, which a little farther on + was changed into a wood of pines. The burn was full of trout; the wood of + cushat-doves; on the open side of the mountain beyond, whaups would be + always whistling, and cuckoos were plentiful. From the mouth of the cleft + we looked down upon a part of Mamore, and on the sea-loch that divides + that country from Appin; and this from so great a height as made it my + continual wonder and pleasure to sit and behold them. + </p> + <p> + The name of the cleft was the Heugh of Corrynakiegh; and although from its + height and being so near upon the sea, it was often beset with clouds, yet + it was on the whole a pleasant place, and the five days we lived in it + went happily. + </p> + <p> + We slept in the cave, making our bed of heather bushes which we cut for + that purpose, and covering ourselves with Alan’s great-coat. There was a + low concealed place, in a turning of the glen, where we were so bold as to + make fire: so that we could warm ourselves when the clouds set in, and + cook hot porridge, and grill the little trouts that we caught with our + hands under the stones and overhanging banks of the burn. This was indeed + our chief pleasure and business; and not only to save our meal against + worse times, but with a rivalry that much amused us, we spent a great part + of our days at the water-side, stripped to the waist and groping about or + (as they say) guddling for these fish. The largest we got might have been + a quarter of a pound; but they were of good flesh and flavour, and when + broiled upon the coals, lacked only a little salt to be delicious. + </p> + <p> + In any by-time Alan must teach me to use my sword, for my ignorance had + much distressed him; and I think besides, as I had sometimes the + upper-hand of him in the fishing, he was not sorry to turn to an exercise + where he had so much the upper-hand of me. He made it somewhat more of a + pain than need have been, for he stormed at me all through the lessons in + a very violent manner of scolding, and would push me so close that I made + sure he must run me through the body. I was often tempted to turn tail, + but held my ground for all that, and got some profit of my lessons; if it + was but to stand on guard with an assured countenance, which is often all + that is required. So, though I could never in the least please my master, + I was not altogether displeased with myself. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile, you are not to suppose that we neglected our chief + business, which was to get away. + </p> + <p> + “It will be many a long day,” Alan said to me on our first morning, + “before the red-coats think upon seeking Corrynakiegh; so now we must get + word sent to James, and he must find the siller for us.” + </p> + <p> + “And how shall we send that word?” says I. “We are here in a desert place, + which yet we dare not leave; and unless ye get the fowls of the air to be + your messengers, I see not what we shall be able to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay?” said Alan. “Ye’re a man of small contrivance, David.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he fell in a muse, looking in the embers of the fire; and + presently, getting a piece of wood, he fashioned it in a cross, the four + ends of which he blackened on the coals. Then he looked at me a little + shyly. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0223m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0223m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0223.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + “Could ye lend me my button?” says he. “It seems a strange thing to ask a + gift again, but I own I am laith to cut another.” + </p> + <p> + I gave him the button; whereupon he strung it on a strip of his great-coat + which he had used to bind the cross; and tying in a little sprig of birch + and another of fir, he looked upon his work with satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said he, “there is a little clachan” (what is called a hamlet in + the English) “not very far from Corrynakiegh, and it has the name of + Koalisnacoan. There there are living many friends of mine whom I could + trust with my life, and some that I am no just so sure of. Ye see, David, + there will be money set upon our heads; James himsel’ is to set money on + them; and as for the Campbells, they would never spare siller where there + was a Stewart to be hurt. If it was otherwise, I would go down to + Koalisnacoan whatever, and trust my life into these people’s hands as + lightly as I would trust another with my glove.” + </p> + <p> + “But being so?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Being so,” said he, “I would as lief they didnae see me. There’s bad folk + everywhere, and what’s far worse, weak ones. So when it comes dark again, + I will steal down into that clachan, and set this that I have been making + in the window of a good friend of mine, John Breck Maccoll, a bouman* of + Appin’s.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *A bouman is a tenant who takes stock from the landlord and + shares with him the increase. +</pre> + <p> + “With all my heart,” says I; “and if he finds it, what is he to think?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” says Alan, “I wish he was a man of more penetration, for by my + troth I am afraid he will make little enough of it! But this is what I + have in my mind. This cross is something in the nature of the crosstarrie, + or fiery cross, which is the signal of gathering in our clans; yet he will + know well enough the clan is not to rise, for there it is standing in his + window, and no word with it. So he will say to himsel’, THE CLAN IS NOT TO + RISE, BUT THERE IS SOMETHING. Then he will see my button, and that was + Duncan Stewart’s. And then he will say to himsel’, THE SON OF DUNCAN IS IN + THE HEATHER, AND HAS NEED OF ME.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “it may be. But even supposing so, there is a good deal of + heather between here and the Forth.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is a very true word,” says Alan. “But then John Breck will see + the sprig of birch and the sprig of pine; and he will say to himsel’ (if + he is a man of any penetration at all, which I misdoubt), ALAN WILL BE + LYING IN A WOOD WHICH IS BOTH OF PINES AND BIRCHES. Then he will think to + himsel’, THAT IS NOT SO VERY RIFE HEREABOUT; and then he will come and + give us a look up in Corrynakiegh. And if he does not, David, the devil + may fly away with him, for what I care; for he will no be worth the salt + to his porridge.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, man,” said I, drolling with him a little, “you’re very ingenious! But + would it not be simpler for you to write him a few words in black and + white?” + </p> + <p> + “And that is an excellent observe, Mr. Balfour of Shaws,” says Alan, + drolling with me; “and it would certainly be much simpler for me to write + to him, but it would be a sore job for John Breck to read it. He would + have to go to the school for two-three years; and it’s possible we might + be wearied waiting on him.” + </p> + <p> + So that night Alan carried down his fiery cross and set it in the bouman’s + window. He was troubled when he came back; for the dogs had barked and the + folk run out from their houses; and he thought he had heard a clatter of + arms and seen a red-coat come to one of the doors. On all accounts we lay + the next day in the borders of the wood and kept a close look-out, so that + if it was John Breck that came we might be ready to guide him, and if it + was the red-coats we should have time to get away. + </p> + <p> + About noon a man was to be spied, straggling up the open side of the + mountain in the sun, and looking round him as he came, from under his + hand. No sooner had Alan seen him than he whistled; the man turned and + came a little towards us: then Alan would give another “peep!” and the man + would come still nearer; and so by the sound of whistling, he was guided + to the spot where we lay. + </p> + <p> + He was a ragged, wild, bearded man, about forty, grossly disfigured with + the small pox, and looked both dull and savage. Although his English was + very bad and broken, yet Alan (according to his very handsome use, + whenever I was by) would suffer him to speak no Gaelic. Perhaps the + strange language made him appear more backward than he really was; but I + thought he had little good-will to serve us, and what he had was the child + of terror. + </p> + <p> + Alan would have had him carry a message to James; but the bouman would + hear of no message. “She was forget it,” he said in his screaming voice; + and would either have a letter or wash his hands of us. + </p> + <p> + I thought Alan would be gravelled at that, for we lacked the means of + writing in that desert. + </p> + <p> + But he was a man of more resources than I knew; searched the wood until he + found the quill of a cushat-dove, which he shaped into a pen; made himself + a kind of ink with gunpowder from his horn and water from the running + stream; and tearing a corner from his French military commission (which he + carried in his pocket, like a talisman to keep him from the gallows), he + sat down and wrote as follows: + </p> + <p> + “DEAR KINSMAN,—Please send the money by the bearer to the place he + kens of. + </p> + <p> + “Your affectionate cousin, + </p> + <p> + “A. S.” + </p> + <p> + This he intrusted to the bouman, who promised to make what manner of speed + he best could, and carried it off with him down the hill. + </p> + <p> + He was three full days gone, but about five in the evening of the third, + we heard a whistling in the wood, which Alan answered; and presently the + bouman came up the water-side, looking for us, right and left. He seemed + less sulky than before, and indeed he was no doubt well pleased to have + got to the end of such a dangerous commission. + </p> + <p> + He gave us the news of the country; that it was alive with red-coats; that + arms were being found, and poor folk brought in trouble daily; and that + James and some of his servants were already clapped in prison at Fort + William, under strong suspicion of complicity. It seemed it was noised on + all sides that Alan Breck had fired the shot; and there was a bill issued + for both him and me, with one hundred pounds reward. + </p> + <p> + This was all as bad as could be; and the little note the bouman had + carried us from Mrs. Stewart was of a miserable sadness. In it she + besought Alan not to let himself be captured, assuring him, if he fell in + the hands of the troops, both he and James were no better than dead men. + The money she had sent was all that she could beg or borrow, and she + prayed heaven we could be doing with it. Lastly, she said, she enclosed us + one of the bills in which we were described. + </p> + <p> + This we looked upon with great curiosity and not a little fear, partly as + a man may look in a mirror, partly as he might look into the barrel of an + enemy’s gun to judge if it be truly aimed. Alan was advertised as “a + small, pock-marked, active man of thirty-five or thereby, dressed in a + feathered hat, a French side-coat of blue with silver buttons, and lace a + great deal tarnished, a red waistcoat and breeches of black, shag;” and I + as “a tall strong lad of about eighteen, wearing an old blue coat, very + ragged, an old Highland bonnet, a long homespun waistcoat, blue breeches; + his legs bare, low-country shoes, wanting the toes; speaks like a + Lowlander, and has no beard.” + </p> + <p> + Alan was well enough pleased to see his finery so fully remembered and set + down; only when he came to the word tarnish, he looked upon his lace like + one a little mortified. As for myself, I thought I cut a miserable figure + in the bill; and yet was well enough pleased too, for since I had changed + these rags, the description had ceased to be a danger and become a source + of safety. + </p> + <p> + “Alan,” said I, “you should change your clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “Na, troth!” said Alan, “I have nae others. A fine sight I would be, if I + went back to France in a bonnet!” + </p> + <p> + This put a second reflection in my mind: that if I were to separate from + Alan and his tell-tale clothes I should be safe against arrest, and might + go openly about my business. Nor was this all; for suppose I was arrested + when I was alone, there was little against me; but suppose I was taken in + company with the reputed murderer, my case would begin to be grave. For + generosity’s sake I dare not speak my mind upon this head; but I thought + of it none the less. + </p> + <p> + I thought of it all the more, too, when the bouman brought out a green + purse with four guineas in gold, and the best part of another in small + change. True, it was more than I had. But then Alan, with less than five + guineas, had to get as far as France; I, with my less than two, not beyond + Queensferry; so that taking things in their proportion, Alan’s society was + not only a peril to my life, but a burden on my purse. + </p> + <p> + But there was no thought of the sort in the honest head of my companion. + He believed he was serving, helping, and protecting me. And what could I + do but hold my peace, and chafe, and take my chance of it? + </p> + <p> + “It’s little enough,” said Alan, putting the purse in his pocket, “but + it’ll do my business. And now, John Breck, if ye will hand me over my + button, this gentleman and me will be for taking the road.” + </p> + <p> + But the bouman, after feeling about in a hairy purse that hung in front of + him in the Highland manner (though he wore otherwise the Lowland habit, + with sea-trousers), began to roll his eyes strangely, and at last said, + “Her nainsel will loss it,” meaning he thought he had lost it. + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried Alan, “you will lose my button, that was my father’s before + me? Now I will tell you what is in my mind, John Breck: it is in my mind + this is the worst day’s work that ever ye did since ye was born.” + </p> + <p> + And as Alan spoke, he set his hands on his knees and looked at the bouman + with a smiling mouth, and that dancing light in his eyes that meant + mischief to his enemies. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the bouman was honest enough; perhaps he had meant to cheat and + then, finding himself alone with two of us in a desert place, cast back to + honesty as being safer; at least, and all at once, he seemed to find that + button and handed it to Alan. + </p> + <p> + “Well, and it is a good thing for the honour of the Maccolls,” said Alan, + and then to me, “Here is my button back again, and I thank you for parting + with it, which is of a piece with all your friendships to me.” Then he + took the warmest parting of the bouman. “For,” says he, “ye have done very + well by me, and set your neck at a venture, and I will always give you the + name of a good man.” + </p> + <p> + Lastly, the bouman took himself off by one way; and Alan and I (getting + our chattels together) struck into another to resume our flight. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0230m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0230m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0230.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <h3> + THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9230m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9230m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9230.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + ome seven hours’ incessant, hard travelling brought us early in the + morning to the end of a range of mountains. In front of us there lay a + piece of low, broken, desert land, which we must now cross. The sun was + not long up, and shone straight in our eyes; a little, thin mist went up + from the face of the moorland like a smoke; so that (as Alan said) there + might have been twenty squadron of dragoons there and we none the wiser. + </p> + <p> + We sat down, therefore, in a howe of the hill-side till the mist should + have risen, and made ourselves a dish of drammach, and held a council of + war. + </p> + <p> + “David,” said Alan, “this is the kittle bit. Shall we lie here till it + comes night, or shall we risk it, and stave on ahead?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “I am tired indeed, but I could walk as far again, if that + was all.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but it isnae,” said Alan, “nor yet the half. This is how we stand: + Appin’s fair death to us. To the south it’s all Campbells, and no to be + thought of. To the north; well, there’s no muckle to be gained by going + north; neither for you, that wants to get to Queensferry, nor yet for me, + that wants to get to France. Well, then, we’ll can strike east.” + </p> + <p> + “East be it!” says I, quite cheerily; but I was thinking in to myself: “O, + man, if you would only take one point of the compass and let me take any + other, it would be the best for both of us.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, east, ye see, we have the muirs,” said Alan. “Once there, + David, it’s mere pitch-and-toss. Out on yon bald, naked, flat place, where + can a body turn to? Let the red-coats come over a hill, they can spy you + miles away; and the sorrow’s in their horses’ heels, they would soon ride + you down. It’s no good place, David; and I’m free to say, it’s worse by + daylight than by dark.” + </p> + <p> + “Alan,” said I, “hear my way of it. Appin’s death for us; we have none too + much money, nor yet meal; the longer they seek, the nearer they may guess + where we are; it’s all a risk; and I give my word to go ahead until we + drop.” + </p> + <p> + Alan was delighted. “There are whiles,” said he, “when ye are altogether + too canny and Whiggish to be company for a gentleman like me; but there + come other whiles when ye show yoursel’ a mettle spark; and it’s then, + David, that I love ye like a brother.” + </p> + <p> + The mist rose and died away, and showed us that country lying as waste as + the sea; only the moorfowl and the pewees crying upon it, and far over to + the east, a herd of deer, moving like dots. Much of it was red with + heather; much of the rest broken up with bogs and hags and peaty pools; + some had been burnt black in a heath fire; and in another place there was + quite a forest of dead firs, standing like skeletons. A wearier-looking + desert man never saw; but at least it was clear of troops, which was our + point. + </p> + <p> + We went down accordingly into the waste, and began to make our toilsome + and devious travel towards the eastern verge. There were the tops of + mountains all round (you are to remember) from whence we might be spied at + any moment; so it behoved us to keep in the hollow parts of the moor, and + when these turned aside from our direction to move upon its naked face + with infinite care. Sometimes, for half an hour together, we must crawl + from one heather bush to another, as hunters do when they are hard upon + the deer. It was a clear day again, with a blazing sun; the water in the + brandy bottle was soon gone; and altogether, if I had guessed what it + would be to crawl half the time upon my belly and to walk much of the rest + stooping nearly to the knees, I should certainly have held back from such + a killing enterprise. + </p> + <p> + Toiling and resting and toiling again, we wore away the morning; and about + noon lay down in a thick bush of heather to sleep. Alan took the first + watch; and it seemed to me I had scarce closed my eyes before I was shaken + up to take the second. We had no clock to go by; and Alan stuck a sprig of + heath in the ground to serve instead; so that as soon as the shadow of the + bush should fall so far to the east, I might know to rouse him. But I was + by this time so weary that I could have slept twelve hours at a stretch; I + had the taste of sleep in my throat; my joints slept even when my mind was + waking; the hot smell of the heather, and the drone of the wild bees, were + like possets to me; and every now and again I would give a jump and find I + had been dozing. + </p> + <p> + The last time I woke I seemed to come back from farther away, and thought + the sun had taken a great start in the heavens. I looked at the sprig of + heath, and at that I could have cried aloud: for I saw I had betrayed my + trust. My head was nearly turned with fear and shame; and at what I saw, + when I looked out around me on the moor, my heart was like dying in my + body. For sure enough, a body of horse-soldiers had come down during my + sleep, and were drawing near to us from the south-east, spread out in the + shape of a fan and riding their horses to and fro in the deep parts of the + heather. + </p> + <p> + When I waked Alan, he glanced first at the soldiers, then at the mark and + the position of the sun, and knitted his brows with a sudden, quick look, + both ugly and anxious, which was all the reproach I had of him. + </p> + <p> + “What are we to do now?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “We’ll have to play at being hares,” said he. “Do ye see yon mountain?” + pointing to one on the north-eastern sky. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” says he, “let us strike for that. Its name is Ben Alder. it + is a wild, desert mountain full of hills and hollows, and if we can win to + it before the morn, we may do yet.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Alan,” cried I, “that will take us across the very coming of the + soldiers!” + </p> + <p> + “I ken that fine,” said he; “but if we are driven back on Appin, we are + two dead men. So now, David man, be brisk!” + </p> + <p> + With that he began to run forward on his hands and knees with an + incredible quickness, as though it were his natural way of going. All the + time, too, he kept winding in and out in the lower parts of the moorland + where we were the best concealed. Some of these had been burned or at + least scathed with fire; and there rose in our faces (which were close to + the ground) a blinding, choking dust as fine as smoke. The water was long + out; and this posture of running on the hands and knees brings an + overmastering weakness and weariness, so that the joints ache and the + wrists faint under your weight. + </p> + <p> + Now and then, indeed, where was a big bush of heather, we lay awhile, and + panted, and putting aside the leaves, looked back at the dragoons. They + had not spied us, for they held straight on; a half-troop, I think, + covering about two miles of ground, and beating it mighty thoroughly as + they went. I had awakened just in time; a little later, and we must have + fled in front of them, instead of escaping on one side. Even as it was, + the least misfortune might betray us; and now and again, when a grouse + rose out of the heather with a clap of wings, we lay as still as the dead + and were afraid to breathe. + </p> + <p> + The aching and faintness of my body, the labouring of my heart, the + soreness of my hands, and the smarting of my throat and eyes in the + continual smoke of dust and ashes, had soon grown to be so unbearable that + I would gladly have given up. Nothing but the fear of Alan lent me enough + of a false kind of courage to continue. As for himself (and you are to + bear in mind that he was cumbered with a great-coat) he had first turned + crimson, but as time went on the redness began to be mingled with patches + of white; his breath cried and whistled as it came; and his voice, when he + whispered his observations in my ear during our halts, sounded like + nothing human. Yet he seemed in no way dashed in spirits, nor did he at + all abate in his activity, so that I was driven to marvel at the man’s + endurance. + </p> + <p> + At length, in the first gloaming of the night, we heard a trumpet sound, + and looking back from among the heather, saw the troop beginning to + collect. A little after, they had built a fire and camped for the night, + about the middle of the waste. + </p> + <p> + At this I begged and besought that we might lie down and sleep. + </p> + <p> + “There shall be no sleep the night!” said Alan. “From now on, these weary + dragoons of yours will keep the crown of the muirland, and none will get + out of Appin but winged fowls. We got through in the nick of time, and + shall we jeopard what we’ve gained? Na, na, when the day comes, it shall + find you and me in a fast place on Ben Alder.” + </p> + <p> + “Alan,” I said, “it’s not the want of will: it’s the strength that I want. + If I could, I would; but as sure as I’m alive I cannot.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then,” said Alan. “I’ll carry ye.” + </p> + <p> + I looked to see if he were jesting; but no, the little man was in dead + earnest; and the sight of so much resolution shamed me. + </p> + <p> + “Lead away!” said I. “I’ll follow.” + </p> + <p> + He gave me one look as much as to say, “Well done, David!” and off he set + again at his top speed. + </p> + <p> + It grew cooler and even a little darker (but not much) with the coming of + the night. The sky was cloudless; it was still early in July, and pretty + far north; in the darkest part of that night, you would have needed pretty + good eyes to read, but for all that, I have often seen it darker in a + winter mid-day. Heavy dew fell and drenched the moor like rain; and this + refreshed me for a while. When we stopped to breathe, and I had time to + see all about me, the clearness and sweetness of the night, the shapes of + the hills like things asleep, and the fire dwindling away behind us, like + a bright spot in the midst of the moor, anger would come upon me in a clap + that I must still drag myself in agony and eat the dust like a worm. + </p> + <p> + By what I have read in books, I think few that have held a pen were ever + really wearied, or they would write of it more strongly. I had no care of + my life, neither past nor future, and I scarce remembered there was such a + lad as David Balfour. I did not think of myself, but just of each fresh + step which I was sure would be my last, with despair—and of Alan, + who was the cause of it, with hatred. Alan was in the right trade as a + soldier; this is the officer’s part to make men continue to do things, + they know not wherefore, and when, if the choice was offered, they would + lie down where they were and be killed. And I dare say I would have made a + good enough private; for in these last hours it never occurred to me that + I had any choice but just to obey as long as I was able, and die obeying. + </p> + <p> + Day began to come in, after years, I thought; and by that time we were + past the greatest danger, and could walk upon our feet like men, instead + of crawling like brutes. But, dear heart have mercy! what a pair we must + have made, going double like old grandfathers, stumbling like babes, and + as white as dead folk. Never a word passed between us; each set his mouth + and kept his eyes in front of him, and lifted up his foot and set it down + again, like people lifting weights at a country play;* all the while, with + the moorfowl crying “peep!” in the heather, and the light coming slowly + clearer in the east. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Village fair. +</pre> + <p> + I say Alan did as I did. Not that ever I looked at him, for I had enough + ado to keep my feet; but because it is plain he must have been as stupid + with weariness as myself, and looked as little where we were going, or we + should not have walked into an ambush like blind men. + </p> + <p> + It fell in this way. We were going down a heathery brae, Alan leading and + I following a pace or two behind, like a fiddler and his wife; when upon a + sudden the heather gave a rustle, three or four ragged men leaped out, and + the next moment we were lying on our backs, each with a dirk at his + throat. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0237m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0237m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0237.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + I don’t think I cared; the pain of this rough handling was quite swallowed + up by the pains of which I was already full; and I was too glad to have + stopped walking to mind about a dirk. I lay looking up in the face of the + man that held me; and I mind his face was black with the sun, and his eyes + very light, but I was not afraid of him. I heard Alan and another + whispering in the Gaelic; and what they said was all one to me. + </p> + <p> + Then the dirks were put up, our weapons were taken away, and we were set + face to face, sitting in the heather. + </p> + <p> + “They are Cluny’s men,” said Alan. “We couldnae have fallen better. We’re + just to bide here with these, which are his out-sentries, till they can + get word to the chief of my arrival.” + </p> + <p> + Now Cluny Macpherson, the chief of the clan Vourich, had been one of the + leaders of the great rebellion six years before; there was a price on his + life; and I had supposed him long ago in France, with the rest of the + heads of that desperate party. Even tired as I was, the surprise of what I + heard half wakened me. + </p> + <p> + “What,” I cried, “is Cluny still here?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, is he so!” said Alan. “Still in his own country and kept by his own + clan. King George can do no more.” + </p> + <p> + I think I would have asked farther, but Alan gave me the put-off. “I am + rather wearied,” he said, “and I would like fine to get a sleep.” And + without more words, he rolled on his face in a deep heather bush, and + seemed to sleep at once. + </p> + <p> + There was no such thing possible for me. You have heard grasshoppers + whirring in the grass in the summer time? Well, I had no sooner closed my + eyes, than my body, and above all my head, belly, and wrists, seemed to be + filled with whirring grasshoppers; and I must open my eyes again at once, + and tumble and toss, and sit up and lie down; and look at the sky which + dazzled me, or at Cluny’s wild and dirty sentries, peering out over the + top of the brae and chattering to each other in the Gaelic. + </p> + <p> + That was all the rest I had, until the messenger returned; when, as it + appeared that Cluny would be glad to receive us, we must get once more + upon our feet and set forward. Alan was in excellent good spirits, much + refreshed by his sleep, very hungry, and looking pleasantly forward to a + dram and a dish of hot collops, of which, it seems, the messenger had + brought him word. For my part, it made me sick to hear of eating. I had + been dead-heavy before, and now I felt a kind of dreadful lightness, which + would not suffer me to walk. I drifted like a gossamer; the ground seemed + to me a cloud, the hills a feather-weight, the air to have a current, like + a running burn, which carried me to and fro. With all that, a sort of + horror of despair sat on my mind, so that I could have wept at my own + helplessness. + </p> + <p> + I saw Alan knitting his brows at me, and supposed it was in anger; and + that gave me a pang of light-headed fear, like what a child may have. I + remember, too, that I was smiling, and could not stop smiling, hard as I + tried; for I thought it was out of place at such a time. But my good + companion had nothing in his mind but kindness; and the next moment, two + of the gillies had me by the arms, and I began to be carried forward with + great swiftness (or so it appeared to me, although I dare say it was + slowly enough in truth), through a labyrinth of dreary glens and hollows + and into the heart of that dismal mountain of Ben Alder. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0241m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0241m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0241.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <h3> + CLUNY’S CAGE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9241m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9241m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9241.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + e came at last to the foot of an exceeding steep wood, which scrambled up + a craggy hillside, and was crowned by a naked precipice. + </p> + <p> + “It’s here,” said one of the guides, and we struck up hill. + </p> + <p> + The trees clung upon the slope, like sailors on the shrouds of a ship, and + their trunks were like the rounds of a ladder, by which we mounted. + </p> + <p> + Quite at the top, and just before the rocky face of the cliff sprang above + the foliage, we found that strange house which was known in the country as + “Cluny’s Cage.” The trunks of several trees had been wattled across, the + intervals strengthened with stakes, and the ground behind this barricade + levelled up with earth to make the floor. A tree, which grew out from the + hillside, was the living centre-beam of the roof. The walls were of wattle + and covered with moss. The whole house had something of an egg shape; and + it half hung, half stood in that steep, hillside thicket, like a wasp’s + nest in a green hawthorn. + </p> + <p> + Within, it was large enough to shelter five or six persons with some + comfort. A projection of the cliff had been cunningly employed to be the + fireplace; and the smoke rising against the face of the rock, and being + not dissimilar in colour, readily escaped notice from below. + </p> + <p> + This was but one of Cluny’s hiding-places; he had caves, besides, and + underground chambers in several parts of his country; and following the + reports of his scouts, he moved from one to another as the soldiers drew + near or moved away. By this manner of living, and thanks to the affection + of his clan, he had not only stayed all this time in safety, while so many + others had fled or been taken and slain: but stayed four or five years + longer, and only went to France at last by the express command of his + master. There he soon died; and it is strange to reflect that he may have + regretted his Cage upon Ben Alder. + </p> + <p> + When we came to the door he was seated by his rock chimney, watching a + gillie about some cookery. He was mighty plainly habited, with a knitted + nightcap drawn over his ears, and smoked a foul cutty pipe. For all that + he had the manners of a king, and it was quite a sight to see him rise out + of his place to welcome us. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mr. Stewart, come awa’, sir!” said he, “and bring in your friend + that as yet I dinna ken the name of.” + </p> + <p> + “And how is yourself, Cluny?” said Alan. “I hope ye do brawly, sir. And I + am proud to see ye, and to present to ye my friend the Laird of Shaws, Mr. + David Balfour.” + </p> + <p> + Alan never referred to my estate without a touch of a sneer, when we were + alone; but with strangers, he rang the words out like a herald. + </p> + <p> + “Step in by, the both of ye, gentlemen,” says Cluny. “I make ye welcome to + my house, which is a queer, rude place for certain, but one where I have + entertained a royal personage, Mr. Stewart—ye doubtless ken the + personage I have in my eye. We’ll take a dram for luck, and as soon as + this handless man of mine has the collops ready, we’ll dine and take a + hand at the cartes as gentlemen should. My life is a bit driegh,” says he, + pouring out the brandy; “I see little company, and sit and twirl my + thumbs, and mind upon a great day that is gone by, and weary for another + great day that we all hope will be upon the road. And so here’s a toast to + ye: The Restoration!” + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0243m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0243m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0243.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + Thereupon we all touched glasses and drank. I am sure I wished no ill to + King George; and if he had been there himself in proper person, it’s like + he would have done as I did. No sooner had I taken out the drain than I + felt hugely better, and could look on and listen, still a little mistily + perhaps, but no longer with the same groundless horror and distress of + mind. + </p> + <p> + It was certainly a strange place, and we had a strange host. In his long + hiding, Cluny had grown to have all manner of precise habits, like those + of an old maid. He had a particular place, where no one else must sit; the + Cage was arranged in a particular way, which none must disturb; cookery + was one of his chief fancies, and even while he was greeting us in, he + kept an eye to the collops. + </p> + <p> + It appears, he sometimes visited or received visits from his wife and one + or two of his nearest friends, under the cover of night; but for the more + part lived quite alone, and communicated only with his sentinels and the + gillies that waited on him in the Cage. The first thing in the morning, + one of them, who was a barber, came and shaved him, and gave him the news + of the country, of which he was immoderately greedy. There was no end to + his questions; he put them as earnestly as a child; and at some of the + answers, laughed out of all bounds of reason, and would break out again + laughing at the mere memory, hours after the barber was gone. + </p> + <p> + To be sure, there might have been a purpose in his questions; for though + he was thus sequestered, and like the other landed gentlemen of Scotland, + stripped by the late Act of Parliament of legal powers, he still exercised + a patriarchal justice in his clan. Disputes were brought to him in his + hiding-hole to be decided; and the men of his country, who would have + snapped their fingers at the Court of Session, laid aside revenge and paid + down money at the bare word of this forfeited and hunted outlaw. When he + was angered, which was often enough, he gave his commands and breathed + threats of punishment like any king; and his gillies trembled and crouched + away from him like children before a hasty father. With each of them, as + he entered, he ceremoniously shook hands, both parties touching their + bonnets at the same time in a military manner. Altogether, I had a fair + chance to see some of the inner workings of a Highland clan; and this with + a proscribed, fugitive chief; his country conquered; the troops riding + upon all sides in quest of him, sometimes within a mile of where he lay; + and when the least of the ragged fellows whom he rated and threatened, + could have made a fortune by betraying him. + </p> + <p> + On that first day, as soon as the collops were ready, Cluny gave them with + his own hand a squeeze of a lemon (for he was well supplied with luxuries) + and bade us draw in to our meal. + </p> + <p> + “They,” said he, meaning the collops, “are such as I gave his Royal + Highness in this very house; bating the lemon juice, for at that time we + were glad to get the meat and never fashed for kitchen.* Indeed, there + were mair dragoons than lemons in my country in the year forty-six.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Condiment. +</pre> + <p> + I do not know if the collops were truly very good, but my heart rose + against the sight of them, and I could eat but little. All the while Cluny + entertained us with stories of Prince Charlie’s stay in the Cage, giving + us the very words of the speakers, and rising from his place to show us + where they stood. By these, I gathered the Prince was a gracious, spirited + boy, like the son of a race of polite kings, but not so wise as Solomon. I + gathered, too, that while he was in the Cage, he was often drunk; so the + fault that has since, by all accounts, made such a wreck of him, had even + then begun to show itself. + </p> + <p> + We were no sooner done eating than Cluny brought out an old, thumbed, + greasy pack of cards, such as you may find in a mean inn; and his eyes + brightened in his face as he proposed that we should fall to playing. + </p> + <p> + Now this was one of the things I had been brought up to eschew like + disgrace; it being held by my father neither the part of a Christian nor + yet of a gentleman to set his own livelihood and fish for that of others, + on the cast of painted pasteboard. To be sure, I might have pleaded my + fatigue, which was excuse enough; but I thought it behoved that I should + bear a testimony. I must have got very red in the face, but I spoke + steadily, and told them I had no call to be a judge of others, but for my + own part, it was a matter in which I had no clearness. + </p> + <p> + Cluny stopped mingling the cards. “What in deil’s name is this?” says he. + “What kind of Whiggish, canting talk is this, for the house of Cluny + Macpherson?” + </p> + <p> + “I will put my hand in the fire for Mr. Balfour,” says Alan. “He is an + honest and a mettle gentleman, and I would have ye bear in mind who says + it. I bear a king’s name,” says he, cocking his hat; “and I and any that I + call friend are company for the best. But the gentleman is tired, and + should sleep; if he has no mind to the cartes, it will never hinder you + and me. And I’m fit and willing, sir, to play ye any game that ye can + name.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” says Cluny, “in this poor house of mine I would have you to ken + that any gentleman may follow his pleasure. If your friend would like to + stand on his head, he is welcome. And if either he, or you, or any other + man, is not preceesely satisfied, I will be proud to step outside with + him.” + </p> + <p> + I had no will that these two friends should cut their throats for my sake. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said I, “I am very wearied, as Alan says; and what’s more, as you + are a man that likely has sons of your own, I may tell you it was a + promise to my father.” + </p> + <p> + “Say nae mair, say nae mair,” said Cluny, and pointed me to a bed of + heather in a corner of the Cage. For all that he was displeased enough, + looked at me askance, and grumbled when he looked. And indeed it must be + owned that both my scruples and the words in which I declared them, + smacked somewhat of the Covenanter, and were little in their place among + wild Highland Jacobites. + </p> + <p> + What with the brandy and the venison, a strange heaviness had come over + me; and I had scarce lain down upon the bed before I fell into a kind of + trance, in which I continued almost the whole time of our stay in the + Cage. Sometimes I was broad awake and understood what passed; sometimes I + only heard voices, or men snoring, like the voice of a silly river; and + the plaids upon the wall dwindled down and swelled out again, like + firelight shadows on the roof. I must sometimes have spoken or cried out, + for I remember I was now and then amazed at being answered; yet I was + conscious of no particular nightmare, only of a general, black, abiding + horror—a horror of the place I was in, and the bed I lay in, and the + plaids on the wall, and the voices, and the fire, and myself. + </p> + <p> + The barber-gillie, who was a doctor too, was called in to prescribe for + me; but as he spoke in the Gaelic, I understood not a word of his opinion, + and was too sick even to ask for a translation. I knew well enough I was + ill, and that was all I cared about. + </p> + <p> + I paid little heed while I lay in this poor pass. But Alan and Cluny were + most of the time at the cards, and I am clear that Alan must have begun by + winning; for I remember sitting up, and seeing them hard at it, and a + great glittering pile of as much as sixty or a hundred guineas on the + table. It looked strange enough, to see all this wealth in a nest upon a + cliff-side, wattled about growing trees. And even then, I thought it + seemed deep water for Alan to be riding, who had no better battle-horse + than a green purse and a matter of five pounds. + </p> + <p> + The luck, it seems, changed on the second day. About noon I was wakened as + usual for dinner, and as usual refused to eat, and was given a dram with + some bitter infusion which the barber had prescribed. The sun was shining + in at the open door of the Cage, and this dazzled and offended me. Cluny + sat at the table, biting the pack of cards. Alan had stooped over the bed, + and had his face close to my eyes; to which, troubled as they were with + the fever, it seemed of the most shocking bigness. + </p> + <p> + He asked me for a loan of my money. + </p> + <p> + “What for?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “O, just for a loan,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “But why?” I repeated. “I don’t see.” + </p> + <p> + “Hut, David!” said Alan, “ye wouldnae grudge me a loan?” + </p> + <p> + I would, though, if I had had my senses! But all I thought of then was to + get his face away, and I handed him my money. + </p> + <p> + On the morning of the third day, when we had been forty-eight hours in the + Cage, I awoke with a great relief of spirits, very weak and weary indeed, + but seeing things of the right size and with their honest, everyday + appearance. I had a mind to eat, moreover, rose from bed of my own + movement, and as soon as we had breakfasted, stepped to the entry of the + Cage and sat down outside in the top of the wood. It was a grey day with a + cool, mild air: and I sat in a dream all morning, only disturbed by the + passing by of Cluny’s scouts and servants coming with provisions and + reports; for as the coast was at that time clear, you might almost say he + held court openly. + </p> + <p> + When I returned, he and Alan had laid the cards aside, and were + questioning a gillie; and the chief turned about and spoke to me in the + Gaelic. + </p> + <p> + “I have no Gaelic, sir,” said I. + </p> + <p> + Now since the card question, everything I said or did had the power of + annoying Cluny. “Your name has more sense than yourself, then,” said he + angrily, “for it’s good Gaelic. But the point is this. My scout reports + all clear in the south, and the question is, have ye the strength to go?” + </p> + <p> + I saw cards on the table, but no gold; only a heap of little written + papers, and these all on Cluny’s side. Alan, besides, had an odd look, + like a man not very well content; and I began to have a strong misgiving. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know if I am as well as I should be,” said I, looking at Alan; + “but the little money we have has a long way to carry us.” + </p> + <p> + Alan took his under-lip into his mouth, and looked upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + “David,” says he at last, “I’ve lost it; there’s the naked truth.” + </p> + <p> + “My money too?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Your money too,” says Alan, with a groan. “Ye shouldnae have given it me. + I’m daft when I get to the cartes.” + </p> + <p> + “Hoot-toot! hoot-toot!” said Cluny. “It was all daffing; it’s all + nonsense. Of course you’ll have your money back again, and the double of + it, if ye’ll make so free with me. It would be a singular thing for me to + keep it. It’s not to be supposed that I would be any hindrance to + gentlemen in your situation; that would be a singular thing!” cries he, + and began to pull gold out of his pocket with a mighty red face. + </p> + <p> + Alan said nothing, only looked on the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Will you step to the door with me, sir?” said I. + </p> + <p> + Cluny said he would be very glad, and followed me readily enough, but he + looked flustered and put out. + </p> + <p> + “And now, sir,” says I, “I must first acknowledge your generosity.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsensical nonsense!” cries Cluny. “Where’s the generosity? This is just + a most unfortunate affair; but what would ye have me do—boxed up in + this bee-skep of a cage of mine—but just set my friends to the + cartes, when I can get them? And if they lose, of course, it’s not to be + supposed——” And here he came to a pause. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I, “if they lose, you give them back their money; and if they + win, they carry away yours in their pouches! I have said before that I + grant your generosity; but to me, sir, it’s a very painful thing to be + placed in this position.” + </p> + <p> + There was a little silence, in which Cluny seemed always as if he was + about to speak, but said nothing. All the time he grew redder and redder + in the face. + </p> + <p> + “I am a young man,” said I, “and I ask your advice. Advise me as you would + your son. My friend fairly lost his money, after having fairly gained a + far greater sum of yours; can I accept it back again? Would that be the + right part for me to play? Whatever I do, you can see for yourself it must + be hard upon a man of any pride.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s rather hard on me, too, Mr. Balfour,” said Cluny, “and ye give me + very much the look of a man that has entrapped poor people to their hurt. + I wouldnae have my friends come to any house of mine to accept affronts; + no,” he cried, with a sudden heat of anger, “nor yet to give them!” + </p> + <p> + “And so you see, sir,” said I, “there is something to be said upon my + side; and this gambling is a very poor employ for gentlefolks. But I am + still waiting your opinion.” + </p> + <p> + I am sure if ever Cluny hated any man it was David Balfour. He looked me + all over with a warlike eye, and I saw the challenge at his lips. But + either my youth disarmed him, or perhaps his own sense of justice. + Certainly it was a mortifying matter for all concerned, and not least + Cluny; the more credit that he took it as he did. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Balfour,” said he, “I think you are too nice and covenanting, but for + all that you have the spirit of a very pretty gentleman. Upon my honest + word, ye may take this money—it’s what I would tell my son—and + here’s my hand along with it!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0252m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0252m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0252.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> + <h3> + THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE QUARREL + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9252m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9252m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9252.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + lan and I were put across Loch Errocht under cloud of night, and went + down its eastern shore to another hiding-place near the head of Loch + Rannoch, whither we were led by one of the gillies from the Cage. This + fellow carried all our luggage and Alan’s great-coat in the bargain, + trotting along under the burthen, far less than the half of which used to + weigh me to the ground, like a stout hill pony with a feather; yet he was + a man that, in plain contest, I could have broken on my knee. + </p> + <p> + Doubtless it was a great relief to walk disencumbered; and perhaps without + that relief, and the consequent sense of liberty and lightness, I could + not have walked at all. I was but new risen from a bed of sickness; and + there was nothing in the state of our affairs to hearten me for much + exertion; travelling, as we did, over the most dismal deserts in Scotland, + under a cloudy heaven, and with divided hearts among the travellers. + </p> + <p> + For long, we said nothing; marching alongside or one behind the other, + each with a set countenance: I, angry and proud, and drawing what strength + I had from these two violent and sinful feelings; Alan angry and ashamed, + ashamed that he had lost my money, angry that I should take it so ill. + </p> + <p> + The thought of a separation ran always the stronger in my mind; and the + more I approved of it, the more ashamed I grew of my approval. It would be + a fine, handsome, generous thing, indeed, for Alan to turn round and say + to me: “Go, I am in the most danger, and my company only increases yours.” + But for me to turn to the friend who certainly loved me, and say to him: + “You are in great danger, I am in but little; your friendship is a burden; + go, take your risks and bear your hardships alone——” no, that + was impossible; and even to think of it privily to myself, made my cheeks + to burn. + </p> + <p> + And yet Alan had behaved like a child, and (what is worse) a treacherous + child. Wheedling my money from me while I lay half-conscious was scarce + better than theft; and yet here he was trudging by my side, without a + penny to his name, and by what I could see, quite blithe to sponge upon + the money he had driven me to beg. True, I was ready to share it with him; + but it made me rage to see him count upon my readiness. + </p> + <p> + These were the two things uppermost in my mind; and I could open my mouth + upon neither without black ungenerosity. So I did the next worst, and said + nothing, nor so much as looked once at my companion, save with the tail of + my eye. + </p> + <p> + At last, upon the other side of Loch Errocht, going over a smooth, rushy + place, where the walking was easy, he could bear it no longer, and came + close to me. + </p> + <p> + “David,” says he, “this is no way for two friends to take a small + accident. I have to say that I’m sorry; and so that’s said. And now if you + have anything, ye’d better say it.” + </p> + <p> + “O,” says I, “I have nothing.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed disconcerted; at which I was meanly pleased. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said he, with rather a trembling voice, “but when I say I was to + blame?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course, ye were to blame,” said I, coolly; “and you will bear me + out that I have never reproached you.” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” says he; “but ye ken very well that ye’ve done worse. Are we to + part? Ye said so once before. Are ye to say it again? There’s hills and + heather enough between here and the two seas, David; and I will own I’m no + very keen to stay where I’m no wanted.” + </p> + <p> + This pierced me like a sword, and seemed to lay bare my private + disloyalty. + </p> + <p> + “Alan Breck!” I cried; and then: “Do you think I am one to turn my back on + you in your chief need? You dursn’t say it to my face. My whole conduct’s + there to give the lie to it. It’s true, I fell asleep upon the muir; but + that was from weariness, and you do wrong to cast it up to me——” + </p> + <p> + “Which is what I never did,” said Alan. + </p> + <p> + “But aside from that,” I continued, “what have I done that you should even + me to dogs by such a supposition? I never yet failed a friend, and it’s + not likely I’ll begin with you. There are things between us that I can + never forget, even if you can.” + </p> + <p> + “I will only say this to ye, David,” said Alan, very quietly, “that I have + long been owing ye my life, and now I owe ye money. Ye should try to make + that burden light for me.” + </p> + <p> + This ought to have touched me, and in a manner it did, but the wrong + manner. I felt I was behaving badly; and was now not only angry with Alan, + but angry with myself in the bargain; and it made me the more cruel. + </p> + <p> + “You asked me to speak,” said I. “Well, then, I will. You own yourself + that you have done me a disservice; I have had to swallow an affront: I + have never reproached you, I never named the thing till you did. And now + you blame me,” cried I, “because I cannae laugh and sing as if I was glad + to be affronted. The next thing will be that I’m to go down upon my knees + and thank you for it! Ye should think more of others, Alan Breck. If ye + thought more of others, ye would perhaps speak less about yourself; and + when a friend that likes you very well has passed over an offence without + a word, you would be blithe to let it lie, instead of making it a stick to + break his back with. By your own way of it, it was you that was to blame; + then it shouldnae be you to seek the quarrel.” + </p> + <p> + “Aweel,” said Alan, “say nae mair.” + </p> + <p> + And we fell back into our former silence; and came to our journey’s end, + and supped, and lay down to sleep, without another word. + </p> + <p> + The gillie put us across Loch Rannoch in the dusk of the next day, and + gave us his opinion as to our best route. This was to get us up at once + into the tops of the mountains: to go round by a circuit, turning the + heads of Glen Lyon, Glen Lochay, and Glen Dochart, and come down upon the + lowlands by Kippen and the upper waters of the Forth. Alan was little + pleased with a route which led us through the country of his blood-foes, + the Glenorchy Campbells. He objected that by turning to the east, we + should come almost at once among the Athole Stewarts, a race of his own + name and lineage, although following a different chief, and come besides + by a far easier and swifter way to the place whither we were bound. But + the gillie, who was indeed the chief man of Cluny’s scouts, had good + reasons to give him on all hands, naming the force of troops in every + district, and alleging finally (as well as I could understand) that we + should nowhere be so little troubled as in a country of the Campbells. + </p> + <p> + Alan gave way at last, but with only half a heart. “It’s one of the + dowiest countries in Scotland,” said he. “There’s naething there that I + ken, but heath, and crows, and Campbells. But I see that ye’re a man of + some penetration; and be it as ye please!” + </p> + <p> + We set forth accordingly by this itinerary; and for the best part of three + nights travelled on eerie mountains and among the well-heads of wild + rivers; often buried in mist, almost continually blown and rained upon, + and not once cheered by any glimpse of sunshine. By day, we lay and slept + in the drenching heather; by night, incessantly clambered upon break-neck + hills and among rude crags. We often wandered; we were often so involved + in fog, that we must lie quiet till it lightened. A fire was never to be + thought of. Our only food was drammach and a portion of cold meat that we + had carried from the Cage; and as for drink, Heaven knows we had no want + of water. + </p> + <p> + This was a dreadful time, rendered the more dreadful by the gloom of the + weather and the country. I was never warm; my teeth chattered in my head; + I was troubled with a very sore throat, such as I had on the isle; I had a + painful stitch in my side, which never left me; and when I slept in my wet + bed, with the rain beating above and the mud oozing below me, it was to + live over again in fancy the worst part of my adventures—to see the + tower of Shaws lit by lightning, Ransome carried below on the men’s backs, + Shuan dying on the round-house floor, or Colin Campbell grasping at the + bosom of his coat. From such broken slumbers, I would be aroused in the + gloaming, to sit up in the same puddle where I had slept, and sup cold + drammach; the rain driving sharp in my face or running down my back in icy + trickles; the mist enfolding us like as in a gloomy chamber—or, + perhaps, if the wind blew, falling suddenly apart and showing us the gulf + of some dark valley where the streams were crying aloud. + </p> + <p> + The sound of an infinite number of rivers came up from all round. In this + steady rain the springs of the mountain were broken up; every glen gushed + water like a cistern; every stream was in high spate, and had filled and + overflowed its channel. During our night tramps, it was solemn to hear the + voice of them below in the valleys, now booming like thunder, now with an + angry cry. I could well understand the story of the Water Kelpie, that + demon of the streams, who is fabled to keep wailing and roaring at the + ford until the coming of the doomed traveller. Alan I saw believed it, or + half believed it; and when the cry of the river rose more than usually + sharp, I was little surprised (though, of course, I would still be + shocked) to see him cross himself in the manner of the Catholics. + </p> + <p> + During all these horrid wanderings we had no familiarity, scarcely even + that of speech. The truth is that I was sickening for my grave, which is + my best excuse. But besides that I was of an unforgiving disposition from + my birth, slow to take offence, slower to forget it, and now incensed both + against my companion and myself. For the best part of two days he was + unweariedly kind; silent, indeed, but always ready to help, and always + hoping (as I could very well see) that my displeasure would blow by. For + the same length of time I stayed in myself, nursing my anger, roughly + refusing his services, and passing him over with my eyes as if he had been + a bush or a stone. + </p> + <p> + The second night, or rather the peep of the third day, found us upon a + very open hill, so that we could not follow our usual plan and lie down + immediately to eat and sleep. Before we had reached a place of shelter, + the grey had come pretty clear, for though it still rained, the clouds ran + higher; and Alan, looking in my face, showed some marks of concern. + </p> + <p> + “Ye had better let me take your pack,” said he, for perhaps the ninth time + since we had parted from the scout beside Loch Rannoch. + </p> + <p> + “I do very well, I thank you,” said I, as cold as ice. + </p> + <p> + Alan flushed darkly. “I’ll not offer it again,” he said. “I’m not a + patient man, David.” + </p> + <p> + “I never said you were,” said I, which was exactly the rude, silly speech + of a boy of ten. + </p> + <p> + Alan made no answer at the time, but his conduct answered for him. + Henceforth, it is to be thought, he quite forgave himself for the affair + at Cluny’s; cocked his hat again, walked jauntily, whistled airs, and + looked at me upon one side with a provoking smile. + </p> + <p> + The third night we were to pass through the western end of the country of + Balquhidder. It came clear and cold, with a touch in the air like frost, + and a northerly wind that blew the clouds away and made the stars bright. + The streams were full, of course, and still made a great noise among the + hills; but I observed that Alan thought no more upon the Kelpie, and was + in high good spirits. As for me, the change of weather came too late; I + had lain in the mire so long that (as the Bible has it) my very clothes + “abhorred me.” I was dead weary, deadly sick and full of pains and + shiverings; the chill of the wind went through me, and the sound of it + confused my ears. In this poor state I had to bear from my companion + something in the nature of a persecution. He spoke a good deal, and never + without a taunt. “Whig” was the best name he had to give me. “Here,” he + would say, “here’s a dub for ye to jump, my Whiggie! I ken you’re a fine + jumper!” And so on; all the time with a gibing voice and face. + </p> + <p> + I knew it was my own doing, and no one else’s; but I was too miserable to + repent. I felt I could drag myself but little farther; pretty soon, I must + lie down and die on these wet mountains like a sheep or a fox, and my + bones must whiten there like the bones of a beast. My head was light + perhaps; but I began to love the prospect, I began to glory in the thought + of such a death, alone in the desert, with the wild eagles besieging my + last moments. Alan would repent then, I thought; he would remember, when I + was dead, how much he owed me, and the remembrance would be torture. So I + went like a sick, silly, and bad-hearted schoolboy, feeding my anger + against a fellow-man, when I would have been better on my knees, crying on + God for mercy. And at each of Alan’s taunts, I hugged myself. “Ah!” thinks + I to myself, “I have a better taunt in readiness; when I lie down and die, + you will feel it like a buffet in your face; ah, what a revenge! ah, how + you will regret your ingratitude and cruelty!” + </p> + <p> + All the while, I was growing worse and worse. Once I had fallen, my leg + simply doubling under me, and this had struck Alan for the moment; but I + was afoot so briskly, and set off again with such a natural manner, that + he soon forgot the incident. Flushes of heat went over me, and then spasms + of shuddering. The stitch in my side was hardly bearable. At last I began + to feel that I could trail myself no farther: and with that, there came on + me all at once the wish to have it out with Alan, let my anger blaze, and + be done with my life in a more sudden manner. He had just called me + “Whig.” I stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Stewart,” said I, in a voice that quivered like a fiddle-string, “you + are older than I am, and should know your manners. Do you think it either + very wise or very witty to cast my politics in my teeth? I thought, where + folk differed, it was the part of gentlemen to differ civilly; and if I + did not, I may tell you I could find a better taunt than some of yours.” + </p> + <p> + Alan had stopped opposite to me, his hat cocked, his hands in his breeches + pockets, his head a little on one side. He listened, smiling evilly, as I + could see by the starlight; and when I had done he began to whistle a + Jacobite air. It was the air made in mockery of General Cope’s defeat at + Preston Pans: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin’ yet? + And are your drums a-beatin’ yet?” + </pre> + <p> + And it came in my mind that Alan, on the day of that battle, had been + engaged upon the royal side. + </p> + <p> + “Why do ye take that air, Mr. Stewart?” said I. “Is that to remind me you + have been beaten on both sides?” + </p> + <p> + The air stopped on Alan’s lips. “David!” said he. + </p> + <p> + “But it’s time these manners ceased,” I continued; “and I mean you shall + henceforth speak civilly of my King and my good friends the Campbells.” + </p> + <p> + “I am a Stewart—” began Alan. + </p> + <p> + “O!” says I, “I ken ye bear a king’s name. But you are to remember, since + I have been in the Highlands, I have seen a good many of those that bear + it; and the best I can say of them is this, that they would be none the + worse of washing.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know that you insult me?” said Alan, very low. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry for that,” said I, “for I am not done; and if you distaste the + sermon, I doubt the pirliecue* will please you as little. You have been + chased in the field by the grown men of my party; it seems a poor kind of + pleasure to out-face a boy. Both the Campbells and the Whigs have beaten + you; you have run before them like a hare. It behoves you to speak of them + as of your betters.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * A second sermon. +</pre> + <p> + Alan stood quite still, the tails of his great-coat clapping behind him in + the wind. + </p> + <p> + “This is a pity,” he said at last. “There are things said that cannot be + passed over.” + </p> + <p> + “I never asked you to,” said I. “I am as ready as yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Ready?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Ready,” I repeated. “I am no blower and boaster like some that I could + name. Come on!” And drawing my sword, I fell on guard as Alan himself had + taught me. + </p> + <p> + “David!” he cried. “Are ye daft? I cannae draw upon ye, David. It’s fair + murder.” + </p> + <p> + “That was your look-out when you insulted me,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the truth!” cried Alan, and he stood for a moment, wringing his + mouth in his hand like a man in sore perplexity. “It’s the bare truth,” he + said, and drew his sword. But before I could touch his blade with mine, he + had thrown it from him and fallen to the ground. “Na, na,” he kept saying, + “na, na—I cannae, I cannae.” + </p> + <p> + At this the last of my anger oozed all out of me; and I found myself only + sick, and sorry, and blank, and wondering at myself. I would have given + the world to take back what I had said; but a word once spoken, who can + recapture it? I minded me of all Alan’s kindness and courage in the past, + how he had helped and cheered and borne with me in our evil days; and then + recalled my own insults, and saw that I had lost for ever that doughty + friend. At the same time, the sickness that hung upon me seemed to + redouble, and the pang in my side was like a sword for sharpness. I + thought I must have swooned where I stood. + </p> + <p> + This it was that gave me a thought. No apology could blot out what I had + said; it was needless to think of one, none could cover the offence; but + where an apology was vain, a mere cry for help might bring Alan back to my + side. I put my pride away from me. “Alan!” I said; “if ye cannae help me, + I must just die here.” + </p> + <p> + He started up sitting, and looked at me. + </p> + <p> + “It’s true,” said I. “I’m by with it. O, let me get into the bield of a + house—I’ll can die there easier.” I had no need to pretend; whether + I chose or not, I spoke in a weeping voice that would have melted a heart + of stone. + </p> + <p> + “Can ye walk?” asked Alan. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said I, “not without help. This last hour my legs have been fainting + under me; I’ve a stitch in my side like a red-hot iron; I cannae breathe + right. If I die, ye’ll can forgive me, Alan? In my heart, I liked ye fine—even + when I was the angriest.” + </p> + <p> + “Wheesht, wheesht!” cried Alan. “Dinna say that! David man, ye ken—” + He shut his mouth upon a sob. “Let me get my arm about ye,” he continued; + “that’s the way! Now lean upon me hard. Gude kens where there’s a house! + We’re in Balwhidder, too; there should be no want of houses, no, nor + friends’ houses here. Do ye gang easier so, Davie?” + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0261m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0261m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0261.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0263m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0263m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0263.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + “Ay,” said I, “I can be doing this way;” and I pressed his arm with my + hand. + </p> + <p> + Again he came near sobbing. “Davie,” said he, “I’m no a right man at all; + I have neither sense nor kindness; I could nae remember ye were just a + bairn, I couldnae see ye were dying on your feet; Davie, ye’ll have to try + and forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + “O man, let’s say no more about it!” said I. “We’re neither one of us to + mend the other—that’s the truth! We must just bear and forbear, man + Alan. O, but my stitch is sore! Is there nae house?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll find a house to ye, David,” he said, stoutly. “We’ll follow down the + burn, where there’s bound to be houses. My poor man, will ye no be better + on my back?” + </p> + <p> + “O, Alan,” says I, “and me a good twelve inches taller?” + </p> + <p> + “Ye’re no such a thing,” cried Alan, with a start. “There may be a + trifling matter of an inch or two; I’m no saying I’m just exactly what ye + would call a tall man, whatever; and I dare say,” he added, his voice + tailing off in a laughable manner, “now when I come to think of it, I dare + say ye’ll be just about right. Ay, it’ll be a foot, or near hand; or may + be even mair!” + </p> + <p> + It was sweet and laughable to hear Alan eat his words up in the fear of + some fresh quarrel. I could have laughed, had not my stitch caught me so + hard; but if I had laughed, I think I must have wept too. + </p> + <p> + “Alan,” cried I, “what makes ye so good to me? What makes ye care for such + a thankless fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “‘Deed, and I don’t know” said Alan. “For just precisely what I thought I + liked about ye, was that ye never quarrelled:—and now I like ye + better!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0267m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0267m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0267.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV + </h2> + <h3> + IN BALQUHIDDER + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9267m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9267m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9267.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + t the door of the first house we came to, Alan knocked, which was of no + very safe enterprise in such a part of the Highlands as the Braes of + Balquhidder. No great clan held rule there; it was filled and disputed by + small septs, and broken remnants, and what they call “chiefless folk,” + driven into the wild country about the springs of Forth and Teith by the + advance of the Campbells. Here were Stewarts and Maclarens, which came to + the same thing, for the Maclarens followed Alan’s chief in war, and made + but one clan with Appin. Here, too, were many of that old, proscribed, + nameless, red-handed clan of the Macgregors. They had always been + ill-considered, and now worse than ever, having credit with no side or + party in the whole country of Scotland. Their chief, Macgregor of + Macgregor, was in exile; the more immediate leader of that part of them + about Balquhidder, James More, Rob Roy’s eldest son, lay waiting his trial + in Edinburgh Castle; they were in ill-blood with Highlander and Lowlander, + with the Grahames, the Maclarens, and the Stewarts; and Alan, who took up + the quarrel of any friend, however distant, was extremely wishful to avoid + them. + </p> + <p> + Chance served us very well; for it was a household of Maclarens that we + found, where Alan was not only welcome for his name’s sake but known by + reputation. Here then I was got to bed without delay, and a doctor + fetched, who found me in a sorry plight. But whether because he was a very + good doctor, or I a very young, strong man, I lay bedridden for no more + than a week, and before a month I was able to take the road again with a + good heart. + </p> + <p> + All this time Alan would not leave me though I often pressed him, and + indeed his foolhardiness in staying was a common subject of outcry with + the two or three friends that were let into the secret. He hid by day in a + hole of the braes under a little wood; and at night, when the coast was + clear, would come into the house to visit me. I need not say if I was + pleased to see him; Mrs. Maclaren, our hostess, thought nothing good + enough for such a guest; and as Duncan Dhu (which was the name of our + host) had a pair of pipes in his house, and was much of a lover of music, + this time of my recovery was quite a festival, and we commonly turned + night into day. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers let us be; although once a party of two companies and some + dragoons went by in the bottom of the valley, where I could see them + through the window as I lay in bed. What was much more astonishing, no + magistrate came near me, and there was no question put of whence I came or + whither I was going; and in that time of excitement, I was as free of all + inquiry as though I had lain in a desert. Yet my presence was known before + I left to all the people in Balquhidder and the adjacent parts; many + coming about the house on visits and these (after the custom of the + country) spreading the news among their neighbours. The bills, too, had + now been printed. There was one pinned near the foot of my bed, where I + could read my own not very flattering portrait and, in larger characters, + the amount of the blood money that had been set upon my life. Duncan Dhu + and the rest that knew that I had come there in Alan’s company, could have + entertained no doubt of who I was; and many others must have had their + guess. For though I had changed my clothes, I could not change my age or + person; and Lowland boys of eighteen were not so rife in these parts of + the world, and above all about that time, that they could fail to put one + thing with another, and connect me with the bill. So it was, at least. + Other folk keep a secret among two or three near friends, and somehow it + leaks out; but among these clansmen, it is told to a whole countryside, + and they will keep it for a century. + </p> + <p> + There was but one thing happened worth narrating; and that is the visit I + had of Robin Oig, one of the sons of the notorious Rob Roy. He was sought + upon all sides on a charge of carrying a young woman from Balfron and + marrying her (as was alleged) by force; yet he stepped about Balquhidder + like a gentleman in his own walled policy. It was he who had shot James + Maclaren at the plough stilts, a quarrel never satisfied; yet he walked + into the house of his blood enemies as a rider* might into a public inn.* + Commercial traveller. </> + </p> + <p> + Duncan had time to pass me word of who it was; and we looked at one + another in concern. You should understand, it was then close upon the time + of Alan’s coming; the two were little likely to agree; and yet if we sent + word or sought to make a signal, it was sure to arouse suspicion in a man + under so dark a cloud as the Macgregor. + </p> + <p> + He came in with a great show of civility, but like a man among inferiors; + took off his bonnet to Mrs. Maclaren, but clapped it on his head again to + speak to Duncan; and having thus set himself (as he would have thought) in + a proper light, came to my bedside and bowed. + </p> + <p> + “I am given to know, sir,” says he, “that your name is Balfour.” + </p> + <p> + “They call me David Balfour,” said I, “at your service.” + </p> + <p> + “I would give ye my name in return, sir,” he replied, “but it’s one + somewhat blown upon of late days; and it’ll perhaps suffice if I tell ye + that I am own brother to James More Drummond or Macgregor, of whom ye will + scarce have failed to hear.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said I, a little alarmed; “nor yet of your father, + Macgregor-Campbell.” And I sat up and bowed in bed; for I thought best to + compliment him, in case he was proud of having had an outlaw to his + father. + </p> + <p> + He bowed in return. “But what I am come to say, sir,” he went on, “is + this. In the year ‘45, my brother raised a part of the ‘Gregara’ and + marched six companies to strike a stroke for the good side; and the + surgeon that marched with our clan and cured my brother’s leg when it was + broken in the brush at Preston Pans, was a gentleman of the same name + precisely as yourself. He was brother to Balfour of Baith; and if you are + in any reasonable degree of nearness one of that gentleman’s kin, I have + come to put myself and my people at your command.” + </p> + <p> + You are to remember that I knew no more of my descent than any cadger’s + dog; my uncle, to be sure, had prated of some of our high connections, but + nothing to the present purpose; and there was nothing left me but that + bitter disgrace of owning that I could not tell. + </p> + <p> + Robin told me shortly he was sorry he had put himself about, turned his + back upon me without a sign of salutation, and as he went towards the + door, I could hear him telling Duncan that I was “only some kinless loon + that didn’t know his own father.” Angry as I was at these words, and + ashamed of my own ignorance, I could scarce keep from smiling that a man + who was under the lash of the law (and was indeed hanged some three years + later) should be so nice as to the descent of his acquaintances. + </p> + <p> + Just in the door, he met Alan coming in; and the two drew back and looked + at each other like strange dogs. They were neither of them big men, but + they seemed fairly to swell out with pride. Each wore a sword, and by a + movement of his haunch, thrust clear the hilt of it, so that it might be + the more readily grasped and the blade drawn. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Stewart, I am thinking,” says Robin. + </p> + <p> + “Troth, Mr. Macgregor, it’s not a name to be ashamed of,” answered Alan. + </p> + <p> + “I did not know ye were in my country, sir,” says Robin. + </p> + <p> + “It sticks in my mind that I am in the country of my friends the + Maclarens,” says Alan. + </p> + <p> + “That’s a kittle point,” returned the other. “There may be two words to + say to that. But I think I will have heard that you are a man of your + sword?” + </p> + <p> + “Unless ye were born deaf, Mr. Macgregor, ye will have heard a good deal + more than that,” says Alan. “I am not the only man that can draw steel in + Appin; and when my kinsman and captain, Ardshiel, had a talk with a + gentleman of your name, not so many years back, I could never hear that + the Macgregor had the best of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do ye mean my father, sir?” says Robin. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wouldnae wonder,” said Alan. “The gentleman I have in my mind had + the ill-taste to clap Campbell to his name.” + </p> + <p> + “My father was an old man,” returned Robin. + </p> + <p> + “The match was unequal. You and me would make a better pair, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking that,” said Alan. + </p> + <p> + I was half out of bed, and Duncan had been hanging at the elbow of these + fighting cocks, ready to intervene upon the least occasion. But when that + word was uttered, it was a case of now or never; and Duncan, with + something of a white face to be sure, thrust himself between. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said he, “I will have been thinking of a very different + matter, whateffer. Here are my pipes, and here are you two gentlemen who + are baith acclaimed pipers. It’s an auld dispute which one of ye’s the + best. Here will be a braw chance to settle it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir,” said Alan, still addressing Robin, from whom indeed he had not + so much as shifted his eyes, nor yet Robin from him, “why, sir,” says + Alan, “I think I will have heard some sough* of the sort. Have ye music, + as folk say? Are ye a bit of a piper?” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Rumour. +</pre> + <p> + “I can pipe like a Macrimmon!” cries Robin. + </p> + <p> + “And that is a very bold word,” quoth Alan. + </p> + <p> + “I have made bolder words good before now,” returned Robin, “and that + against better adversaries.” + </p> + <p> + “It is easy to try that,” says Alan. + </p> + <p> + Duncan Dhu made haste to bring out the pair of pipes that was his + principal possession, and to set before his guests a mutton-ham and a + bottle of that drink which they call Athole brose, and which is made of + old whiskey, strained honey and sweet cream, slowly beaten together in the + right order and proportion. The two enemies were still on the very breach + of a quarrel; but down they sat, one upon each side of the peat fire, with + a mighty show of politeness. Maclaren pressed them to taste his mutton-ham + and “the wife’s brose,” reminding them the wife was out of Athole and had + a name far and wide for her skill in that confection. But Robin put aside + these hospitalities as bad for the breath. + </p> + <p> + “I would have ye to remark, sir,” said Alan, “that I havenae broken bread + for near upon ten hours, which will be worse for the breath than any brose + in Scotland.” + </p> + <p> + “I will take no advantages, Mr. Stewart,” replied Robin. “Eat and drink; + I’ll follow you.” + </p> + <p> + Each ate a small portion of the ham and drank a glass of the brose to Mrs. + Maclaren; and then after a great number of civilities, Robin took the + pipes and played a little spring in a very ranting manner. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ye can blow” said Alan; and taking the instrument from his rival, he + first played the same spring in a manner identical with Robin’s; and then + wandered into variations, which, as he went on, he decorated with a + perfect flight of grace-notes, such as pipers love, and call the + “warblers.” + </p> + <p> + I had been pleased with Robin’s playing, Alan’s ravished me. + </p> + <p> + “That’s no very bad, Mr. Stewart,” said the rival, “but ye show a poor + device in your warblers.” + </p> + <p> + “Me!” cried Alan, the blood starting to his face. “I give ye the lie.” + </p> + <p> + “Do ye own yourself beaten at the pipes, then,” said Robin, “that ye seek + to change them for the sword?” + </p> + <p> + “And that’s very well said, Mr. Macgregor,” returned Alan; “and in the + meantime” (laying a strong accent on the word) “I take back the lie. I + appeal to Duncan.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, ye need appeal to naebody,” said Robin. “Ye’re a far better judge + than any Maclaren in Balquhidder: for it’s a God’s truth that you’re a + very creditable piper for a Stewart. Hand me the pipes.” Alan did as he + asked; and Robin proceeded to imitate and correct some part of Alan’s + variations, which it seemed that he remembered perfectly. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ye have music,” said Alan, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “And now be the judge yourself, Mr. Stewart,” said Robin; and taking up + the variations from the beginning, he worked them throughout to so new a + purpose, with such ingenuity and sentiment, and with so odd a fancy and so + quick a knack in the grace-notes, that I was amazed to hear him. + </p> + <p> + As for Alan, his face grew dark and hot, and he sat and gnawed his + fingers, like a man under some deep affront. “Enough!” he cried. “Ye can + blow the pipes—make the most of that.” And he made as if to rise. + </p> + <p> + But Robin only held out his hand as if to ask for silence, and struck into + the slow measure of a pibroch. It was a fine piece of music in itself, and + nobly played; but it seems, besides, it was a piece peculiar to the Appin + Stewarts and a chief favourite with Alan. The first notes were scarce out, + before there came a change in his face; when the time quickened, he seemed + to grow restless in his seat; and long before that piece was at an end, + the last signs of his anger died from him, and he had no thought but for + the music. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0273m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0273m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0273.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + “Robin Oig,” he said, when it was done, “ye are a great piper. I am not + fit to blow in the same kingdom with ye. Body of me! ye have mair music in + your sporran than I have in my head! And though it still sticks in my mind + that I could maybe show ye another of it with the cold steel, I warn ye + beforehand—it’ll no be fair! It would go against my heart to haggle + a man that can blow the pipes as you can!” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon that quarrel was made up; all night long the brose was going and + the pipes changing hands; and the day had come pretty bright, and the + three men were none the better for what they had been taking, before Robin + as much as thought upon the road. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0277m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0277m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0277.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI + </h2> + <h3> + END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9277m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9277m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9277.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + he month, as I have said, was not yet out, but it was already far through + August, and beautiful warm weather, with every sign of an early and great + harvest, when I was pronounced able for my journey. Our money was now run + to so low an ebb that we must think first of all on speed; for if we came + not soon to Mr. Rankeillor’s, or if when we came there he should fail to + help me, we must surely starve. In Alan’s view, besides, the hunt must + have now greatly slackened; and the line of the Forth and even Stirling + Bridge, which is the main pass over that river, would be watched with + little interest. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a chief principle in military affairs,” said he, “to go where ye are + least expected. Forth is our trouble; ye ken the saying, ‘Forth bridles + the wild Hielandman.’ Well, if we seek to creep round about the head of + that river and come down by Kippen or Balfron, it’s just precisely there + that they’ll be looking to lay hands on us. But if we stave on straight to + the auld Brig of Stirling, I’ll lay my sword they let us pass + unchallenged.” + </p> + <p> + The first night, accordingly, we pushed to the house of a Maclaren in + Strathire, a friend of Duncan’s, where we slept the twenty-first of the + month, and whence we set forth again about the fall of night to make + another easy stage. The twenty-second we lay in a heather bush on the + hillside in Uam Var, within view of a herd of deer, the happiest ten hours + of sleep in a fine, breathing sunshine and on bone-dry ground, that I have + ever tasted. That night we struck Allan Water, and followed it down; and + coming to the edge of the hills saw the whole Carse of Stirling underfoot, + as flat as a pancake, with the town and castle on a hill in the midst of + it, and the moon shining on the Links of Forth. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Alan, “I kenna if ye care, but ye’re in your own land again. + We passed the Hieland Line in the first hour; and now if we could but pass + yon crooked water, we might cast our bonnets in the air.” + </p> + <p> + In Allan Water, near by where it falls into the Forth, we found a little + sandy islet, overgrown with burdock, butterbur and the like low plants, + that would just cover us if we lay flat. Here it was we made our camp, + within plain view of Stirling Castle, whence we could hear the drums beat + as some part of the garrison paraded. Shearers worked all day in a field + on one side of the river, and we could hear the stones going on the hooks + and the voices and even the words of the men talking. It behoved to lie + close and keep silent. But the sand of the little isle was sun-warm, the + green plants gave us shelter for our heads, we had food and drink in + plenty; and to crown all, we were within sight of safety. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the shearers quit their work and the dusk began to fall, we + waded ashore and struck for the Bridge of Stirling, keeping to the fields + and under the field fences. + </p> + <p> + The bridge is close under the castle hill, an old, high, narrow bridge + with pinnacles along the parapet; and you may conceive with how much + interest I looked upon it, not only as a place famous in history, but as + the very doors of salvation to Alan and myself. The moon was not yet up + when we came there; a few lights shone along the front of the fortress, + and lower down a few lighted windows in the town; but it was all mighty + still, and there seemed to be no guard upon the passage. + </p> + <p> + I was for pushing straight across; but Alan was more wary. + </p> + <p> + “It looks unco’ quiet,” said he; “but for all that we’ll lie down here + cannily behind a dyke, and make sure.” + </p> + <p> + So we lay for about a quarter of an hour, whiles whispering, whiles lying + still and hearing nothing earthly but the washing of the water on the + piers. At last there came by an old, hobbling woman with a crutch stick; + who first stopped a little, close to where we lay, and bemoaned herself + and the long way she had travelled; and then set forth again up the steep + spring of the bridge. The woman was so little, and the night still so + dark, that we soon lost sight of her; only heard the sound of her steps, + and her stick, and a cough that she had by fits, draw slowly farther away. + </p> + <p> + “She’s bound to be across now,” I whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Na,” said Alan, “her foot still sounds boss* upon the bridge.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Hollow. +</pre> + <p> + And just then—“Who goes?” cried a voice, and we heard the butt of a + musket rattle on the stones. I must suppose the sentry had been sleeping, + so that had we tried, we might have passed unseen; but he was awake now, + and the chance forfeited. + </p> + <p> + “This’ll never do,” said Alan. “This’ll never, never do for us, David.” + </p> + <p> + And without another word, he began to crawl away through the fields; and a + little after, being well out of eye-shot, got to his feet again, and + struck along a road that led to the eastward. I could not conceive what he + was doing; and indeed I was so sharply cut by the disappointment, that I + was little likely to be pleased with anything. A moment back and I had + seen myself knocking at Mr. Rankeillor’s door to claim my inheritance, + like a hero in a ballad; and here was I back again, a wandering, hunted + blackguard, on the wrong side of Forth. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Alan, “what would ye have? They’re none such fools as I took + them for. We have still the Forth to pass, Davie—weary fall the + rains that fed and the hillsides that guided it!” + </p> + <p> + “And why go east?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Ou, just upon the chance!” said he. “If we cannae pass the river, we’ll + have to see what we can do for the firth.” + </p> + <p> + “There are fords upon the river, and none upon the firth,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure there are fords, and a bridge forbye,” quoth Alan; “and of + what service, when they are watched?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “but a river can be swum.” + </p> + <p> + “By them that have the skill of it,” returned he; “but I have yet to hear + that either you or me is much of a hand at that exercise; and for my own + part, I swim like a stone.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not up to you in talking back, Alan,” I said; “but I can see we’re + making bad worse. If it’s hard to pass a river, it stands to reason it + must be worse to pass a sea.” + </p> + <p> + “But there’s such a thing as a boat,” says Alan, “or I’m the more + deceived.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and such a thing as money,” says I. “But for us that have neither one + nor other, they might just as well not have been invented.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye think so?” said Alan. + </p> + <p> + “I do that,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “David,” says he, “ye’re a man of small invention and less faith. But let + me set my wits upon the hone, and if I cannae beg, borrow, nor yet steal a + boat, I’ll make one!” + </p> + <p> + “I think I see ye!” said I. “And what’s more than all that: if ye pass a + bridge, it can tell no tales; but if we pass the firth, there’s the boat + on the wrong side—somebody must have brought it—the + country-side will all be in a bizz—-” + </p> + <p> + “Man!” cried Alan, “if I make a boat, I’ll make a body to take it back + again! So deave me with no more of your nonsense, but walk (for that’s + what you’ve got to do)—and let Alan think for ye.” + </p> + <p> + All night, then, we walked through the north side of the Carse under the + high line of the Ochil mountains; and by Alloa and Clackmannan and + Culross, all of which we avoided: and about ten in the morning, mighty + hungry and tired, came to the little clachan of Limekilns. This is a place + that sits near in by the water-side, and looks across the Hope to the town + of the Queensferry. Smoke went up from both of these, and from other + villages and farms upon all hands. The fields were being reaped; two ships + lay anchored, and boats were coming and going on the Hope. It was + altogether a right pleasant sight to me; and I could not take my fill of + gazing at these comfortable, green, cultivated hills and the busy people + both of the field and sea. + </p> + <p> + For all that, there was Mr. Rankeillor’s house on the south shore, where I + had no doubt wealth awaited me; and here was I upon the north, clad in + poor enough attire of an outlandish fashion, with three silver shillings + left to me of all my fortune, a price set upon my head, and an outlawed + man for my sole company. + </p> + <p> + “O, Alan!” said I, “to think of it! Over there, there’s all that heart + could want waiting me; and the birds go over, and the boats go over—all + that please can go, but just me only! O, man, but it’s a heart-break!” + </p> + <p> + In Limekilns we entered a small change-house, which we only knew to be a + public by the wand over the door, and bought some bread and cheese from a + good-looking lass that was the servant. This we carried with us in a + bundle, meaning to sit and eat it in a bush of wood on the sea-shore, that + we saw some third part of a mile in front. As we went, I kept looking + across the water and sighing to myself; and though I took no heed of it, + Alan had fallen into a muse. At last he stopped in the way. + </p> + <p> + “Did ye take heed of the lass we bought this of?” says he, tapping on the + bread and cheese. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” said I, “and a bonny lass she was.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye thought that?” cries he. “Man, David, that’s good news.” + </p> + <p> + “In the name of all that’s wonderful, why so?” says I. “What good can that + do?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Alan, with one of his droll looks, “I was rather in hopes it + would maybe get us that boat.” + </p> + <p> + “If it were the other way about, it would be liker it,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “That’s all that you ken, ye see,” said Alan. “I don’t want the lass to + fall in love with ye, I want her to be sorry for ye, David; to which end + there is no manner of need that she should take you for a beauty. Let me + see” (looking me curiously over). “I wish ye were a wee thing paler; but + apart from that ye’ll do fine for my purpose—ye have a fine, + hang-dog, rag-and-tatter, clappermaclaw kind of a look to ye, as if ye had + stolen the coat from a potato-bogle. Come; right about, and back to the + change-house for that boat of ours.” + </p> + <p> + I followed him, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “David Balfour,” said he, “ye’re a very funny gentleman by your way of it, + and this is a very funny employ for ye, no doubt. For all that, if ye have + any affection for my neck (to say nothing of your own) ye will perhaps be + kind enough to take this matter responsibly. I am going to do a bit of + play-acting, the bottom ground of which is just exactly as serious as the + gallows for the pair of us. So bear it, if ye please, in mind, and conduct + yourself according.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said I, “have it as you will.” + </p> + <p> + As we got near the clachan, he made me take his arm and hang upon it like + one almost helpless with weariness; and by the time he pushed open the + change-house door, he seemed to be half carrying me. The maid appeared + surprised (as well she might be) at our speedy return; but Alan had no + words to spare for her in explanation, helped me to a chair, called for a + tass of brandy with which he fed me in little sips, and then breaking up + the bread and cheese helped me to eat it like a nursery-lass; the whole + with that grave, concerned, affectionate countenance, that might have + imposed upon a judge. It was small wonder if the maid were taken with the + picture we presented, of a poor, sick, overwrought lad and his most tender + comrade. She drew quite near, and stood leaning with her back on the next + table. + </p> + <p> + “What’s like wrong with him?” said she at last. + </p> + <p> + Alan turned upon her, to my great wonder, with a kind of fury. “Wrong?” + cries he. “He’s walked more hundreds of miles than he has hairs upon his + chin, and slept oftener in wet heather than dry sheets. Wrong, quo’ she! + Wrong enough, I would think! Wrong, indeed!” and he kept grumbling to + himself as he fed me, like a man ill-pleased. + </p> + <p> + “He’s young for the like of that,” said the maid. + </p> + <p> + “Ower young,” said Alan, with his back to her. + </p> + <p> + “He would be better riding,” says she. + </p> + <p> + “And where could I get a horse to him?” cried Alan, turning on her with + the same appearance of fury. “Would ye have me steal?” + </p> + <p> + I thought this roughness would have sent her off in dudgeon, as indeed it + closed her mouth for the time. But my companion knew very well what he was + doing; and for as simple as he was in some things of life, had a great + fund of roguishness in such affairs as these. + </p> + <p> + “Ye neednae tell me,” she said at last—“ye’re gentry.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Alan, softened a little (I believe against his will) by this + artless comment, “and suppose we were? Did ever you hear that gentrice put + money in folk’s pockets?” + </p> + <p> + She sighed at this, as if she were herself some disinherited great lady. + “No,” says she, “that’s true indeed.” + </p> + <p> + I was all this while chafing at the part I played, and sitting tongue-tied + between shame and merriment; but somehow at this I could hold in no + longer, and bade Alan let me be, for I was better already. My voice stuck + in my throat, for I ever hated to take part in lies; but my very + embarrassment helped on the plot, for the lass no doubt set down my husky + voice to sickness and fatigue. + </p> + <p> + “Has he nae friends?” said she, in a tearful voice. + </p> + <p> + “That has he so!” cried Alan, “if we could but win to them!—friends + and rich friends, beds to lie in, food to eat, doctors to see to him—and + here he must tramp in the dubs and sleep in the heather like a beggarman.” + </p> + <p> + “And why that?” says the lass. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” said Alan, “I cannae very safely say; but I’ll tell ye what + I’ll do instead,” says he, “I’ll whistle ye a bit tune.” And with that he + leaned pretty far over the table, and in a mere breath of a whistle, but + with a wonderful pretty sentiment, gave her a few bars of “Charlie is my + darling.” + </p> + <p> + “Wheesht,” says she, and looked over her shoulder to the door. + </p> + <p> + “That’s it,” said Alan. + </p> + <p> + “And him so young!” cries the lass. + </p> + <p> + “He’s old enough to——” and Alan struck his forefinger on the + back part of his neck, meaning that I was old enough to lose my head. + </p> + <p> + “It would be a black shame,” she cried, flushing high. + </p> + <p> + “It’s what will be, though,” said Alan, “unless we manage the better.” + </p> + <p> + At this the lass turned and ran out of that part of the house, leaving us + alone together. Alan in high good humour at the furthering of his schemes, + and I in bitter dudgeon at being called a Jacobite and treated like a + child. + </p> + <p> + “Alan,” I cried, “I can stand no more of this.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye’ll have to sit it then, Davie,” said he. “For if ye upset the pot now, + ye may scrape your own life out of the fire, but Alan Breck is a dead + man.” + </p> + <p> + This was so true that I could only groan; and even my groan served Alan’s + purpose, for it was overheard by the lass as she came flying in again with + a dish of white puddings and a bottle of strong ale. + </p> + <p> + “Poor lamb!” says she, and had no sooner set the meat before us, than she + touched me on the shoulder with a little friendly touch, as much as to bid + me cheer up. Then she told us to fall to, and there would be no more to + pay; for the inn was her own, or at least her father’s, and he was gone + for the day to Pittencrieff. We waited for no second bidding, for bread + and cheese is but cold comfort and the puddings smelt excellently well; + and while we sat and ate, she took up that same place by the next table, + looking on, and thinking, and frowning to herself, and drawing the string + of her apron through her hand. + </p> + <p> + “I’m thinking ye have rather a long tongue,” she said at last to Alan. + </p> + <p> + “Ay” said Alan; “but ye see I ken the folk I speak to.” + </p> + <p> + “I would never betray ye,” said she, “if ye mean that.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said he, “ye’re not that kind. But I’ll tell ye what ye would do, ye + would help.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldnae,” said she, shaking her head. “Na, I couldnae.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said he, “but if ye could?” + </p> + <p> + She answered him nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, my lass,” said Alan, “there are boats in the Kingdom of Fife, + for I saw two (no less) upon the beach, as I came in by your town’s end. + Now if we could have the use of a boat to pass under cloud of night into + Lothian, and some secret, decent kind of a man to bring that boat back + again and keep his counsel, there would be two souls saved—mine to + all likelihood—his to a dead surety. If we lack that boat, we have + but three shillings left in this wide world; and where to go, and how to + do, and what other place there is for us except the chains of a gibbet—I + give you my naked word, I kenna! Shall we go wanting, lassie? Are ye to + lie in your warm bed and think upon us, when the wind gowls in the chimney + and the rain tirls on the roof? Are ye to eat your meat by the cheeks of a + red fire, and think upon this poor sick lad of mine, biting his finger + ends on a blae muir for cauld and hunger? Sick or sound, he must aye be + moving; with the death grapple at his throat he must aye be trailing in + the rain on the lang roads; and when he gants his last on a rickle of + cauld stanes, there will be nae friends near him but only me and God.” + </p> + <p> + At this appeal, I could see the lass was in great trouble of mind, being + tempted to help us, and yet in some fear she might be helping malefactors; + and so now I determined to step in myself and to allay her scruples with a + portion of the truth. + </p> + <p> + “Did ever you hear,” said I, “of Mr. Rankeillor of the Ferry?” + </p> + <p> + “Rankeillor the writer?” said she. “I daur say that!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “it’s to his door that I am bound, so you may judge by + that if I am an ill-doer; and I will tell you more, that though I am + indeed, by a dreadful error, in some peril of my life, King George has no + truer friend in all Scotland than myself.” + </p> + <p> + Her face cleared up mightily at this, although Alan’s darkened. + </p> + <p> + “That’s more than I would ask,” said she. “Mr. Rankeillor is a kennt man.” + And she bade us finish our meat, get clear of the clachan as soon as might + be, and lie close in the bit wood on the sea-beach. “And ye can trust me,” + says she, “I’ll find some means to put you over.” + </p> + <p> + At this we waited for no more, but shook hands with her upon the bargain, + made short work of the puddings, and set forth again from Limekilns as far + as to the wood. It was a small piece of perhaps a score of elders and + hawthorns and a few young ashes, not thick enough to veil us from + passersby upon the road or beach. Here we must lie, however, making the + best of the brave warm weather and the good hopes we now had of a + deliverance, and planing more particularly what remained for us to do. + </p> + <p> + We had but one trouble all day; when a strolling piper came and sat in the + same wood with us; a red-nosed, bleareyed, drunken dog, with a great + bottle of whisky in his pocket, and a long story of wrongs that had been + done him by all sorts of persons, from the Lord President of the Court of + Session, who had denied him justice, down to the Bailies of Inverkeithing + who had given him more of it than he desired. It was impossible but he + should conceive some suspicion of two men lying all day concealed in a + thicket and having no business to allege. As long as he stayed there he + kept us in hot water with prying questions; and after he was gone, as he + was a man not very likely to hold his tongue, we were in the greater + impatience to be gone ourselves. + </p> + <p> + The day came to an end with the same brightness; the night fell quiet and + clear; lights came out in houses and hamlets and then, one after another, + began to be put out; but it was past eleven, and we were long since + strangely tortured with anxieties, before we heard the grinding of oars + upon the rowing-pins. At that, we looked out and saw the lass herself + coming rowing to us in a boat. She had trusted no one with our affairs, + not even her sweetheart, if she had one; but as soon as her father was + asleep, had left the house by a window, stolen a neighbour’s boat, and + come to our assistance single-handed. + </p> + <p> + I was abashed how to find expression for my thanks; but she was no less + abashed at the thought of hearing them; begged us to lose no time and to + hold our peace, saying (very properly) that the heart of our matter was in + haste and silence; and so, what with one thing and another, she had set us + on the Lothian shore not far from Carriden, had shaken hands with us, and + was out again at sea and rowing for Limekilns, before there was one word + said either of her service or our gratitude. + </p> + <p> + Even after she was gone, we had nothing to say, as indeed nothing was + enough for such a kindness. Only Alan stood a great while upon the shore + shaking his head. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0287m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0287m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0287.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + “It is a very fine lass,” he said at last. “David, it is a very fine + lass.” And a matter of an hour later, as we were lying in a den on the + sea-shore and I had been already dozing, he broke out again in + commendations of her character. For my part, I could say nothing, she was + so simple a creature that my heart smote me both with remorse and fear: + remorse because we had traded upon her ignorance; and fear lest we should + have anyway involved her in the dangers of our situation. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0291m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0291m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0291.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII + </h2> + <h3> + I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9291m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9291m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9291.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + he next day it was agreed that Alan should fend for himself till sunset; + but as soon as it began to grow dark, he should lie in the fields by the + roadside near to Newhalls, and stir for naught until he heard me + whistling. At first I proposed I should give him for a signal the “Bonnie + House of Airlie,” which was a favourite of mine; but he objected that as + the piece was very commonly known, any ploughman might whistle it by + accident; and taught me instead a little fragment of a Highland air, which + has run in my head from that day to this, and will likely run in my head + when I lie dying. Every time it comes to me, it takes me off to that last + day of my uncertainty, with Alan sitting up in the bottom of the den, + whistling and beating the measure with a finger, and the grey of the dawn + coming on his face. + </p> + <p> + I was in the long street of Queensferry before the sun was up. It was a + fairly built burgh, the houses of good stone, many slated; the town-hall + not so fine, I thought, as that of Peebles, nor yet the street so noble; + but take it altogether, it put me to shame for my foul tatters. + </p> + <p> + As the morning went on, and the fires began to be kindled, and the windows + to open, and the people to appear out of the houses, my concern and + despondency grew ever the blacker. I saw now that I had no grounds to + stand upon; and no clear proof of my rights, nor so much as of my own + identity. If it was all a bubble, I was indeed sorely cheated and left in + a sore pass. Even if things were as I conceived, it would in all + likelihood take time to establish my contentions; and what time had I to + spare with less than three shillings in my pocket, and a condemned, hunted + man upon my hands to ship out of the country? Truly, if my hope broke with + me, it might come to the gallows yet for both of us. And as I continued to + walk up and down, and saw people looking askance at me upon the street or + out of windows, and nudging or speaking one to another with smiles, I + began to take a fresh apprehension: that it might be no easy matter even + to come to speech of the lawyer, far less to convince him of my story. + </p> + <p> + For the life of me I could not muster up the courage to address any of + these reputable burghers; I thought shame even to speak with them in such + a pickle of rags and dirt; and if I had asked for the house of such a man + as Mr. Rankeillor, I suppose they would have burst out laughing in my + face. So I went up and down, and through the street, and down to the + harbour-side, like a dog that has lost its master, with a strange gnawing + in my inwards, and every now and then a movement of despair. It grew to be + high day at last, perhaps nine in the forenoon; and I was worn with these + wanderings, and chanced to have stopped in front of a very good house on + the landward side, a house with beautiful, clear glass windows, flowering + knots upon the sills, the walls new-harled* and a chase-dog sitting + yawning on the step like one that was at home. Well, I was even envying + this dumb brute, when the door fell open and there issued forth a shrewd, + ruddy, kindly, consequential man in a well-powdered wig and spectacles. I + was in such a plight that no one set eyes on me once, but he looked at me + again; and this gentleman, as it proved, was so much struck with my poor + appearance that he came straight up to me and asked me what I did. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Newly rough-cast. +</pre> + <p> + I told him I was come to the Queensferry on business, and taking heart of + grace, asked him to direct me to the house of Mr. Rankeillor. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said he, “that is his house that I have just come out of; and for a + rather singular chance, I am that very man.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir,” said I, “I have to beg the favour of an interview.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know your name,” said he, “nor yet your face.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is David Balfour,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “David Balfour?” he repeated, in rather a high tone, like one surprised. + “And where have you come from, Mr. David Balfour?” he asked, looking me + pretty drily in the face. + </p> + <p> + “I have come from a great many strange places, sir,” said I; “but I think + it would be as well to tell you where and how in a more private manner.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed to muse awhile, holding his lip in his hand, and looking now at + me and now upon the causeway of the street. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” says he, “that will be the best, no doubt.” And he led me back with + him into his house, cried out to some one whom I could not see that he + would be engaged all morning, and brought me into a little dusty chamber + full of books and documents. Here he sate down, and bade me be seated; + though I thought he looked a little ruefully from his clean chair to my + muddy rags. “And now,” says he, “if you have any business, pray be brief + and come swiftly to the point. Nec gemino bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo—do + you understand that?” says he, with a keen look. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0293m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0293m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0293.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + “I will even do as Horace says, sir,” I answered, smiling, “and carry you + in medias res.” He nodded as if he was well pleased, and indeed his scrap + of Latin had been set to test me. For all that, and though I was somewhat + encouraged, the blood came in my face when I added: “I have reason to + believe myself some rights on the estate of Shaws.” + </p> + <p> + He got a paper book out of a drawer and set it before him open. “Well?” + said he. + </p> + <p> + But I had shot my bolt and sat speechless. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Mr. Balfour,” said he, “you must continue. Where were you + born?” + </p> + <p> + “In Essendean, sir,” said I, “the year 1733, the 12th of March.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed to follow this statement in his paper book; but what that meant + I knew not. “Your father and mother?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “My father was Alexander Balfour, schoolmaster of that place,” said I, + “and my mother Grace Pitarrow; I think her people were from Angus.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any papers proving your identity?” asked Mr. Rankeillor. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said I, “but they are in the hands of Mr. Campbell, the + minister, and could be readily produced. Mr. Campbell, too, would give me + his word; and for that matter, I do not think my uncle would deny me.” + </p> + <p> + “Meaning Mr. Ebenezer Balfour?” says he. + </p> + <p> + “The same,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Whom you have seen?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “By whom I was received into his own house,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever meet a man of the name of Hoseason?” asked Mr. Rankeillor. + </p> + <p> + “I did so, sir, for my sins,” said I; “for it was by his means and the + procurement of my uncle, that I was kidnapped within sight of this town, + carried to sea, suffered shipwreck and a hundred other hardships, and + stand before you to-day in this poor accoutrement.” + </p> + <p> + “You say you were shipwrecked,” said Rankeillor; “where was that?” + </p> + <p> + “Off the south end of the Isle of Mull,” said I. “The name of the isle on + which I was cast up is the Island Earraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” says he, smiling, “you are deeper than me in the geography. But so + far, I may tell you, this agrees pretty exactly with other informations + that I hold. But you say you were kidnapped; in what sense?” + </p> + <p> + “In the plain meaning of the word, sir,” said I. “I was on my way to your + house, when I was trepanned on board the brig, cruelly struck down, thrown + below, and knew no more of anything till we were far at sea. I was + destined for the plantations; a fate that, in God’s providence, I have + escaped.” + </p> + <p> + “The brig was lost on June the 27th,” says he, looking in his book, “and + we are now at August the 24th. Here is a considerable hiatus, Mr. Balfour, + of near upon two months. It has already caused a vast amount of trouble to + your friends; and I own I shall not be very well contented until it is set + right.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, sir,” said I, “these months are very easily filled up; but yet + before I told my story, I would be glad to know that I was talking to a + friend.” + </p> + <p> + “This is to argue in a circle,” said the lawyer. “I cannot be convinced + till I have heard you. I cannot be your friend till I am properly + informed. If you were more trustful, it would better befit your time of + life. And you know, Mr. Balfour, we have a proverb in the country that + evil-doers are aye evil-dreaders.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not to forget, sir,” said I, “that I have already suffered by my + trustfulness; and was shipped off to be a slave by the very man that (if I + rightly understand) is your employer?” + </p> + <p> + All this while I had been gaining ground with Mr. Rankeillor, and in + proportion as I gained ground, gaining confidence. But at this sally, + which I made with something of a smile myself, he fairly laughed aloud. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said he, “it is not so bad as that. Fui, non sum. I was indeed + your uncle’s man of business; but while you (imberbis juvenis custode + remoto) were gallivanting in the west, a good deal of water has run under + the bridges; and if your ears did not sing, it was not for lack of being + talked about. On the very day of your sea disaster, Mr. Campbell stalked + into my office, demanding you from all the winds. I had never heard of + your existence; but I had known your father; and from matters in my + competence (to be touched upon hereafter) I was disposed to fear the + worst. Mr. Ebenezer admitted having seen you; declared (what seemed + improbable) that he had given you considerable sums; and that you had + started for the continent of Europe, intending to fulfil your education, + which was probable and praiseworthy. Interrogated how you had come to send + no word to Mr. Campbell, he deponed that you had expressed a great desire + to break with your past life. Further interrogated where you now were, + protested ignorance, but believed you were in Leyden. That is a close sum + of his replies. I am not exactly sure that any one believed him,” + continued Mr. Rankeillor with a smile; “and in particular he so much + disrelished me expressions of mine that (in a word) he showed me to the + door. We were then at a full stand; for whatever shrewd suspicions we + might entertain, we had no shadow of probation. In the very article, comes + Captain Hoseason with the story of your drowning; whereupon all fell + through; with no consequences but concern to Mr. Campbell, injury to my + pocket, and another blot upon your uncle’s character, which could very ill + afford it. And now, Mr. Balfour,” said he, “you understand the whole + process of these matters, and can judge for yourself to what extent I may + be trusted.” + </p> + <p> + Indeed he was more pedantic than I can represent him, and placed more + scraps of Latin in his speech; but it was all uttered with a fine + geniality of eye and manner which went far to conquer my distrust. + Moreover, I could see he now treated me as if I was myself beyond a doubt; + so that first point of my identity seemed fully granted. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said I, “if I tell you my story, I must commit a friend’s life to + your discretion. Pass me your word it shall be sacred; and for what + touches myself, I will ask no better guarantee than just your face.” + </p> + <p> + He passed me his word very seriously. “But,” said he, “these are rather + alarming prolocutions; and if there are in your story any little jostles + to the law, I would beg you to bear in mind that I am a lawyer, and pass + lightly.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon I told him my story from the first, he listening with his + spectacles thrust up and his eyes closed, so that I sometimes feared he + was asleep. But no such matter! he heard every word (as I found afterward) + with such quickness of hearing and precision of memory as often surprised + me. Even strange outlandish Gaelic names, heard for that time only, he + remembered and would remind me of, years after. Yet when I called Alan + Breck in full, we had an odd scene. The name of Alan had of course rung + through Scotland, with the news of the Appin murder and the offer of the + reward; and it had no sooner escaped me than the lawyer moved in his seat + and opened his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I would name no unnecessary names, Mr. Balfour,” said he; “above all of + Highlanders, many of whom are obnoxious to the law.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it might have been better not,” said I, “but since I have let it + slip, I may as well continue.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said Mr. Rankeillor. “I am somewhat dull of hearing, as you + may have remarked; and I am far from sure I caught the name exactly. We + will call your friend, if you please, Mr. Thomson—that there may be + no reflections. And in future, I would take some such way with any + Highlander that you may have to mention—dead or alive.” + </p> + <p> + By this, I saw he must have heard the name all too clearly, and had + already guessed I might be coming to the murder. If he chose to play this + part of ignorance, it was no matter of mine; so I smiled, said it was no + very Highland-sounding name, and consented. Through all the rest of my + story Alan was Mr. Thomson; which amused me the more, as it was a piece of + policy after his own heart. James Stewart, in like manner, was mentioned + under the style of Mr. Thomson’s kinsman; Colin Campbell passed as a Mr. + Glen; and to Cluny, when I came to that part of my tale, I gave the name + of “Mr. Jameson, a Highland chief.” It was truly the most open farce, and + I wondered that the lawyer should care to keep it up; but, after all, it + was quite in the taste of that age, when there were two parties in the + state, and quiet persons, with no very high opinions of their own, sought + out every cranny to avoid offence to either. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said the lawyer, when I had quite done, “this is a great + epic, a great Odyssey of yours. You must tell it, sir, in a sound Latinity + when your scholarship is riper; or in English if you please, though for my + part I prefer the stronger tongue. You have rolled much; quae regio in + terris—what parish in Scotland (to make a homely translation) has + not been filled with your wanderings? You have shown, besides, a singular + aptitude for getting into false positions; and, yes, upon the whole, for + behaving well in them. This Mr. Thomson seems to me a gentleman of some + choice qualities, though perhaps a trifle bloody-minded. It would please + me none the worse, if (with all his merits) he were soused in the North + Sea, for the man, Mr. David, is a sore embarrassment. But you are + doubtless quite right to adhere to him; indubitably, he adhered to you. It + comes—we may say—he was your true companion; nor less paribus + curis vestigia figit, for I dare say you would both take an orra thought + upon the gallows. Well, well, these days are fortunately by; and I think + (speaking humanly) that you are near the end of your troubles.” + </p> + <p> + As he thus moralised on my adventures, he looked upon me with so much + humour and benignity that I could scarce contain my satisfaction. I had + been so long wandering with lawless people, and making my bed upon the + hills and under the bare sky, that to sit once more in a clean, covered + house, and to talk amicably with a gentleman in broadcloth, seemed mighty + elevations. Even as I thought so, my eye fell on my unseemly tatters, and + I was once more plunged in confusion. But the lawyer saw and understood + me. He rose, called over the stair to lay another plate, for Mr. Balfour + would stay to dinner, and led me into a bedroom in the upper part of the + house. Here he set before me water and soap, and a comb; and laid out some + clothes that belonged to his son; and here, with another apposite tag, he + left me to my toilet. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0302m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0302m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0302.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII + </h2> + <h3> + I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9302m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9302m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9302.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + made what change I could in my appearance; and blithe was I to look in + the glass and find the beggarman a thing of the past, and David Balfour + come to life again. And yet I was ashamed of the change too, and, above + all, of the borrowed clothes. When I had done, Mr. Rankeillor caught me on + the stair, made me his compliments, and had me again into the cabinet. + </p> + <p> + “Sit ye down, Mr. David,” said he, “and now that you are looking a little + more like yourself, let me see if I can find you any news. You will be + wondering, no doubt, about your father and your uncle? To be sure it is a + singular tale; and the explanation is one that I blush to have to offer + you. For,” says he, really with embarrassment, “the matter hinges on a + love affair.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” said I, “I cannot very well join that notion with my uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “But your uncle, Mr. David, was not always old,” replied the lawyer, “and + what may perhaps surprise you more, not always ugly. He had a fine, + gallant air; people stood in their doors to look after him, as he went by + upon a mettle horse. I have seen it with these eyes, and I ingenuously + confess, not altogether without envy; for I was a plain lad myself and a + plain man’s son; and in those days it was a case of Odi te, qui bellus es, + Sabelle.” + </p> + <p> + “It sounds like a dream,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay,” said the lawyer, “that is how it is with youth and age. Nor was + that all, but he had a spirit of his own that seemed to promise great + things in the future. In 1715, what must he do but run away to join the + rebels? It was your father that pursued him, found him in a ditch, and + brought him back multum gementem; to the mirth of the whole country. + However, majora canamus—the two lads fell in love, and that with the + same lady. Mr. Ebenezer, who was the admired and the beloved, and the + spoiled one, made, no doubt, mighty certain of the victory; and when he + found he had deceived himself, screamed like a peacock. The whole country + heard of it; now he lay sick at home, with his silly family standing round + the bed in tears; now he rode from public-house to public-house, and + shouted his sorrows into the lug of Tom, Dick, and Harry. Your father, Mr. + David, was a kind gentleman; but he was weak, dolefully weak; took all + this folly with a long countenance; and one day—by your leave!—resigned + the lady. She was no such fool, however; it’s from her you must inherit + your excellent good sense; and she refused to be bandied from one to + another. Both got upon their knees to her; and the upshot of the matter + for that while was that she showed both of them the door. That was in + August; dear me! the same year I came from college. The scene must have + been highly farcical.” + </p> + <p> + I thought myself it was a silly business, but I could not forget my father + had a hand in it. “Surely, sir, it had some note of tragedy,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, sir, not at all,” returned the lawyer. “For tragedy implies some + ponderable matter in dispute, some dignus vindice nodus; and this piece of + work was all about the petulance of a young ass that had been spoiled, and + wanted nothing so much as to be tied up and soundly belted. However, that + was not your father’s view; and the end of it was, that from concession to + concession on your father’s part, and from one height to another of + squalling, sentimental selfishness upon your uncle’s, they came at last to + drive a sort of bargain, from whose ill results you have recently been + smarting. The one man took the lady, the other the estate. Now, Mr. David, + they talk a great deal of charity and generosity; but in this disputable + state of life, I often think the happiest consequences seem to flow when a + gentleman consults his lawyer, and takes all the law allows him. Anyhow, + this piece of Quixotry on your father’s part, as it was unjust in itself, + has brought forth a monstrous family of injustices. Your father and mother + lived and died poor folk; you were poorly reared; and in the meanwhile, + what a time it has been for the tenants on the estate of Shaws! And I + might add (if it was a matter I cared much about) what a time for Mr. + Ebenezer!” + </p> + <p> + “And yet that is certainly the strangest part of all,” said I, “that a + man’s nature should thus change.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” said Mr. Rankeillor. “And yet I imagine it was natural enough. He + could not think that he had played a handsome part. Those who knew the + story gave him the cold shoulder; those who knew it not, seeing one + brother disappear, and the other succeed in the estate, raised a cry of + murder; so that upon all sides he found himself evited. Money was all he + got by his bargain; well, he came to think the more of money. He was + selfish when he was young, he is selfish now that he is old; and the + latter end of all these pretty manners and fine feelings you have seen for + yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said I, “and in all this, what is my position?” + </p> + <p> + “The estate is yours beyond a doubt,” replied the lawyer. “It matters + nothing what your father signed, you are the heir of entail. But your + uncle is a man to fight the indefensible; and it would be likely your + identity that he would call in question. A lawsuit is always expensive, + and a family lawsuit always scandalous; besides which, if any of your + doings with your friend Mr. Thomson were to come out, we might find that + we had burned our fingers. The kidnapping, to be sure, would be a court + card upon our side, if we could only prove it. But it may be difficult to + prove; and my advice (upon the whole) is to make a very easy bargain with + your uncle, perhaps even leaving him at Shaws where he has taken root for + a quarter of a century, and contenting yourself in the meanwhile with a + fair provision.” + </p> + <p> + I told him I was very willing to be easy, and that to carry family + concerns before the public was a step from which I was naturally much + averse. In the meantime (thinking to myself) I began to see the outlines + of that scheme on which we afterwards acted. + </p> + <p> + “The great affair,” I asked, “is to bring home to him the kidnapping?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” said Mr. Rankeillor, “and if possible, out of court. For mark + you here, Mr. David: we could no doubt find some men of the Covenant who + would swear to your reclusion; but once they were in the box, we could no + longer check their testimony, and some word of your friend Mr. Thomson + must certainly crop out. Which (from what you have let fall) I cannot + think to be desirable.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said I, “here is my way of it.” And I opened my plot to him. + </p> + <p> + “But this would seem to involve my meeting the man Thomson?” says he, when + I had done. + </p> + <p> + “I think so, indeed, sir,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Dear doctor!” cries he, rubbing his brow. “Dear doctor! No, Mr. David, I + am afraid your scheme is inadmissible. I say nothing against your friend, + Mr. Thomson: I know nothing against him; and if I did—mark this, Mr. + David!—it would be my duty to lay hands on him. Now I put it to you: + is it wise to meet? He may have matters to his charge. He may not have + told you all. His name may not be even Thomson!” cries the lawyer, + twinkling; “for some of these fellows will pick up names by the roadside + as another would gather haws.” + </p> + <p> + “You must be the judge, sir,” said I. + </p> + <p> + But it was clear my plan had taken hold upon his fancy, for he kept musing + to himself till we were called to dinner and the company of Mrs. + Rankeillor; and that lady had scarce left us again to ourselves and a + bottle of wine, ere he was back harping on my proposal. When and where was + I to meet my friend Mr. Thomson; was I sure of Mr. T.‘s discretion; + supposing we could catch the old fox tripping, would I consent to such and + such a term of an agreement—these and the like questions he kept + asking at long intervals, while he thoughtfully rolled his wine upon his + tongue. When I had answered all of them, seemingly to his contentment, he + fell into a still deeper muse, even the claret being now forgotten. Then + he got a sheet of paper and a pencil, and set to work writing and weighing + every word; and at last touched a bell and had his clerk into the chamber. + </p> + <p> + “Torrance,” said he, “I must have this written out fair against to-night; + and when it is done, you will be so kind as put on your hat and be ready + to come along with this gentleman and me, for you will probably be wanted + as a witness.” + </p> + <p> + “What, sir,” cried I, as soon as the clerk was gone, “are you to venture + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, so it would appear,” says he, filling his glass. “But let us speak + no more of business. The very sight of Torrance brings in my head a little + droll matter of some years ago, when I had made a tryst with the poor oaf + at the cross of Edinburgh. Each had gone his proper errand; and when it + came four o’clock, Torrance had been taking a glass and did not know his + master, and I, who had forgot my spectacles, was so blind without them, + that I give you my word I did not know my own clerk.” And thereupon he + laughed heartily. + </p> + <p> + I said it was an odd chance, and smiled out of politeness; but what held + me all the afternoon in wonder, he kept returning and dwelling on this + story, and telling it again with fresh details and laughter; so that I + began at last to be quite put out of countenance and feel ashamed for my + friend’s folly. + </p> + <p> + Towards the time I had appointed with Alan, we set out from the house, Mr. + Rankeillor and I arm in arm, and Torrance following behind with the deed + in his pocket and a covered basket in his hand. All through the town, the + lawyer was bowing right and left, and continually being button-holed by + gentlemen on matters of burgh or private business; and I could see he was + one greatly looked up to in the county. At last we were clear of the + houses, and began to go along the side of the haven and towards the Hawes + Inn and the Ferry pier, the scene of my misfortune. I could not look upon + the place without emotion, recalling how many that had been there with me + that day were now no more: Ransome taken, I could hope, from the evil to + come; Shuan passed where I dared not follow him; and the poor souls that + had gone down with the brig in her last plunge. All these, and the brig + herself, I had outlived; and come through these hardships and fearful + perils without scath. My only thought should have been of gratitude; and + yet I could not behold the place without sorrow for others and a chill of + recollected fear. + </p> + <p> + I was so thinking when, upon a sudden, Mr. Rankeillor cried out, clapped + his hand to his pockets, and began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” he cries, “if this be not a farcical adventure! After all that I + said, I have forgot my glasses!” + </p> + <p> + At that, of course, I understood the purpose of his anecdote, and knew + that if he had left his spectacles at home, it had been done on purpose, + so that he might have the benefit of Alan’s help without the awkwardness + of recognising him. And indeed it was well thought upon; for now (suppose + things to go the very worst) how could Rankeillor swear to my friend’s + identity, or how be made to bear damaging evidence against myself? For all + that, he had been a long while of finding out his want, and had spoken to + and recognised a good few persons as we came through the town; and I had + little doubt myself that he saw reasonably well. + </p> + <p> + As soon as we were past the Hawes (where I recognised the landlord smoking + his pipe in the door, and was amazed to see him look no older) Mr. + Rankeillor changed the order of march, walking behind with Torrance and + sending me forward in the manner of a scout. I went up the hill, whistling + from time to time my Gaelic air; and at length I had the pleasure to hear + it answered and to see Alan rise from behind a bush. He was somewhat + dashed in spirits, having passed a long day alone skulking in the county, + and made but a poor meal in an alehouse near Dundas. But at the mere sight + of my clothes, he began to brighten up; and as soon as I had told him in + what a forward state our matters were and the part I looked to him to play + in what remained, he sprang into a new man. + </p> + <p> + “And that is a very good notion of yours,” says he; “and I dare to say + that you could lay your hands upon no better man to put it through than + Alan Breck. It is not a thing (mark ye) that any one could do, but takes a + gentleman of penetration. But it sticks in my head your lawyer-man will be + somewhat wearying to see me,” says Alan. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly I cried and waved on Mr. Rankeillor, who came up alone and was + presented to my friend, Mr. Thomson. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Thomson, I am pleased to meet you,” said he. “But I have forgotten my + glasses; and our friend, Mr. David here” (clapping me on the shoulder), + “will tell you that I am little better than blind, and that you must not + be surprised if I pass you by to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + This he said, thinking that Alan would be pleased; but the Highlandman’s + vanity was ready to startle at a less matter than that. + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir,” says he, stiffly, “I would say it mattered the less as we are + met here for a particular end, to see justice done to Mr. Balfour; and by + what I can see, not very likely to have much else in common. But I accept + your apology, which was a very proper one to make.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is more than I could look for, Mr. Thomson,” said Rankeillor, + heartily. “And now as you and I are the chief actors in this enterprise, I + think we should come into a nice agreement; to which end, I propose that + you should lend me your arm, for (what with the dusk and the want of my + glasses) I am not very clear as to the path; and as for you, Mr. David, + you will find Torrance a pleasant kind of body to speak with. Only let me + remind you, it’s quite needless he should hear more of your adventures or + those of—ahem—Mr. Thomson.” + </p> + <p> + Accordingly these two went on ahead in very close talk, and Torrance and I + brought up the rear. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0309m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0309m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0309.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + Night was quite come when we came in view of the house of Shaws. Ten had + been gone some time; it was dark and mild, with a pleasant, rustling wind + in the south-west that covered the sound of our approach; and as we drew + near we saw no glimmer of light in any portion of the building. It seemed + my uncle was already in bed, which was indeed the best thing for our + arrangements. We made our last whispered consultations some fifty yards + away; and then the lawyer and Torrance and I crept quietly up and crouched + down beside the corner of the house; and as soon as we were in our places, + Alan strode to the door without concealment and began to knock. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0312m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0312m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0312.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX + </h2> + <h3> + I COME INTO MY KINGDOM + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9312m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9312m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9312.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + or some time Alan volleyed upon the door, and his knocking only roused + the echoes of the house and neighbourhood. At last, however, I could hear + the noise of a window gently thrust up, and knew that my uncle had come to + his observatory. By what light there was, he would see Alan standing, like + a dark shadow, on the steps; the three witnesses were hidden quite out of + his view; so that there was nothing to alarm an honest man in his own + house. For all that, he studied his visitor awhile in silence, and when he + spoke his voice had a quaver of misgiving. + </p> + <p> + “What’s this?” says he. “This is nae kind of time of night for decent + folk; and I hae nae trokings* wi’ night-hawks. What brings ye here? I have + a blunderbush.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Dealings. +</pre> + <p> + “Is that yoursel’, Mr. Balfour?” returned Alan, stepping back and looking + up into the darkness. “Have a care of that blunderbuss; they’re nasty + things to burst.” + </p> + <p> + “What brings ye here? and whae are ye?” says my uncle, angrily. + </p> + <p> + “I have no manner of inclination to rowt out my name to the country-side,” + said Alan; “but what brings me here is another story, being more of your + affair than mine; and if ye’re sure it’s what ye would like, I’ll set it + to a tune and sing it to you.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is’t?” asked my uncle. + </p> + <p> + “David,” says Alan. + </p> + <p> + “What was that?” cried my uncle, in a mighty changed voice. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I give ye the rest of the name, then?” said Alan. + </p> + <p> + There was a pause; and then, “I’m thinking I’ll better let ye in,” says my + uncle, doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I dare say that,” said Alan; “but the point is, Would I go? Now I will + tell you what I am thinking. I am thinking that it is here upon this + doorstep that we must confer upon this business; and it shall be here or + nowhere at all whatever; for I would have you to understand that I am as + stiffnecked as yoursel’, and a gentleman of better family.” + </p> + <p> + This change of note disconcerted Ebenezer; he was a little while digesting + it, and then says he, “Weel, weel, what must be must,” and shut the + window. But it took him a long time to get down-stairs, and a still longer + to undo the fastenings, repenting (I dare say) and taken with fresh claps + of fear at every second step and every bolt and bar. At last, however, we + heard the creak of the hinges, and it seems my uncle slipped gingerly out + and (seeing that Alan had stepped back a pace or two) sate him down on the + top doorstep with the blunderbuss ready in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “And, now” says he, “mind I have my blunderbush, and if ye take a step + nearer ye’re as good as deid.” + </p> + <p> + “And a very civil speech,” says Alan, “to be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Na,” says my uncle, “but this is no a very chanty kind of a proceeding, + and I’m bound to be prepared. And now that we understand each other, ye’ll + can name your business.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” says Alan, “you that are a man of so much understanding, will + doubtless have perceived that I am a Hieland gentleman. My name has nae + business in my story; but the county of my friends is no very far from the + Isle of Mull, of which ye will have heard. It seems there was a ship lost + in those parts; and the next day a gentleman of my family was seeking + wreck-wood for his fire along the sands, when he came upon a lad that was + half drowned. Well, he brought him to; and he and some other gentleman + took and clapped him in an auld, ruined castle, where from that day to + this he has been a great expense to my friends. My friends are a wee + wild-like, and not so particular about the law as some that I could name; + and finding that the lad owned some decent folk, and was your born nephew, + Mr. Balfour, they asked me to give ye a bit call and confer upon the + matter. And I may tell ye at the off-go, unless we can agree upon some + terms, ye are little likely to set eyes upon him. For my friends,” added + Alan, simply, “are no very well off.” + </p> + <p> + My uncle cleared his throat. “I’m no very caring,” says he. “He wasnae a + good lad at the best of it, and I’ve nae call to interfere.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay,” said Alan, “I see what ye would be at: pretending ye don’t care, + to make the ransom smaller.” + </p> + <p> + “Na,” said my uncle, “it’s the mere truth. I take nae manner of interest + in the lad, and I’ll pay nae ransome, and ye can make a kirk and a mill of + him for what I care.” + </p> + <p> + “Hoot, sir,” says Alan. “Blood’s thicker than water, in the deil’s name! + Ye cannae desert your brother’s son for the fair shame of it; and if ye + did, and it came to be kennt, ye wouldnae be very popular in your + country-side, or I’m the more deceived.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m no just very popular the way it is,” returned Ebenezer; “and I dinnae + see how it would come to be kennt. No by me, onyway; nor yet by you or + your friends. So that’s idle talk, my buckie,” says he. + </p> + <p> + “Then it’ll have to be David that tells it,” said Alan. + </p> + <p> + “How that?” says my uncle, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Ou, just this way,” says Alan. “My friends would doubtless keep your + nephew as long as there was any likelihood of siller to be made of it, but + if there was nane, I am clearly of opinion they would let him gang where + he pleased, and be damned to him!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but I’m no very caring about that either,” said my uncle. “I wouldnae + be muckle made up with that.” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking that,” said Alan. + </p> + <p> + “And what for why?” asked Ebenezer. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mr. Balfour,” replied Alan, “by all that I could hear, there were + two ways of it: either ye liked David and would pay to get him back; or + else ye had very good reasons for not wanting him, and would pay for us to + keep him. It seems it’s not the first; well then, it’s the second; and + blythe am I to ken it, for it should be a pretty penny in my pocket and + the pockets of my friends.” + </p> + <p> + “I dinnae follow ye there,” said my uncle. + </p> + <p> + “No?” said Alan. “Well, see here: you dinnae want the lad back; well, what + do ye want done with him, and how much will ye pay?” + </p> + <p> + My uncle made no answer, but shifted uneasily on his seat. + </p> + <p> + “Come, sir,” cried Alan. “I would have you to ken that I am a gentleman; I + bear a king’s name; I am nae rider to kick my shanks at your hall door. + Either give me an answer in civility, and that out of hand; or by the top + of Glencoe, I will ram three feet of iron through your vitals.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, man,” cried my uncle, scrambling to his feet, “give me a meenit! + What’s like wrong with ye? I’m just a plain man and nae dancing master; + and I’m tryin to be as ceevil as it’s morally possible. As for that wild + talk, it’s fair disrepitable. Vitals, says you! And where would I be with + my blunderbush?” he snarled. + </p> + <p> + “Powder and your auld hands are but as the snail to the swallow against + the bright steel in the hands of Alan,” said the other. “Before your + jottering finger could find the trigger, the hilt would dirl on your + breast-bane.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, man, whae’s denying it?” said my uncle. “Pit it as ye please, hae’t + your ain way; I’ll do naething to cross ye. Just tell me what like ye’ll + be wanting, and ye’ll see that we’ll can agree fine.” + </p> + <p> + “Troth, sir,” said Alan, “I ask for nothing but plain dealing. In two + words: do ye want the lad killed or kept?” + </p> + <p> + “O, sirs!” cried Ebenezer. “O, sirs, me! that’s no kind of language!” + </p> + <p> + “Killed or kept!” repeated Alan. + </p> + <p> + “O, keepit, keepit!” wailed my uncle. “We’ll have nae bloodshed, if you + please.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” says Alan, “as ye please; that’ll be the dearer.” + </p> + <p> + “The dearer?” cries Ebenezer. “Would ye fyle your hands wi’ crime?” + </p> + <p> + “Hoot!” said Alan, “they’re baith crime, whatever! And the killing’s + easier, and quicker, and surer. Keeping the lad’ll be a fashious* job, a + fashious, kittle business.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Troublesome. +</pre> + <p> + “I’ll have him keepit, though,” returned my uncle. “I never had naething + to do with onything morally wrong; and I’m no gaun to begin to pleasure a + wild Hielandman.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye’re unco scrupulous,” sneered Alan. + </p> + <p> + “I’m a man o’ principle,” said Ebenezer, simply; “and if I have to pay for + it, I’ll have to pay for it. And besides,” says he, “ye forget the lad’s + my brother’s son.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said Alan, “and now about the price. It’s no very easy for + me to set a name upon it; I would first have to ken some small matters. I + would have to ken, for instance, what ye gave Hoseason at the first + off-go?” + </p> + <p> + “Hoseason!” cries my uncle, struck aback. “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “For kidnapping David,” says Alan. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a lee, it’s a black lee!” cried my uncle. “He was never kidnapped. + He leed in his throat that tauld ye that. Kidnapped? He never was!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s no fault of mine nor yet of yours,” said Alan; “nor yet of + Hoseason’s, if he’s a man that can be trusted.” + </p> + <p> + “What do ye mean?” cried Ebenezer. “Did Hoseason tell ye?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, ye donnered auld runt, how else would I ken?” cried Alan. “Hoseason + and me are partners; we gang shares; so ye can see for yoursel’ what good + ye can do leeing. And I must plainly say ye drove a fool’s bargain when ye + let a man like the sailor-man so far forward in your private matters. But + that’s past praying for; and ye must lie on your bed the way ye made it. + And the point in hand is just this: what did ye pay him?” + </p> + <p> + “Has he tauld ye himsel’?” asked my uncle. + </p> + <p> + “That’s my concern,” said Alan. + </p> + <p> + “Weel,” said my uncle, “I dinnae care what he said, he leed, and the + solemn God’s truth is this, that I gave him twenty pound. But I’ll be + perfec’ly honest with ye: forby that, he was to have the selling of the + lad in Caroliny, whilk would be as muckle mair, but no from my pocket, ye + see.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Thomson. That will do excellently well,” said the lawyer, + stepping forward; and then mighty civilly, “Good-evening, Mr. Balfour,” + said he. + </p> + <p> + And, “Good-evening, Uncle Ebenezer,” said I. + </p> + <p> + And, “It’s a braw nicht, Mr. Balfour,” added Torrance. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0317m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0317m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0317.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + Never a word said my uncle, neither black nor white; but just sat where he + was on the top door-step and stared upon us like a man turned to stone. + Alan filched away his blunderbuss; and the lawyer, taking him by the arm, + plucked him up from the doorstep, led him into the kitchen, whither we all + followed, and set him down in a chair beside the hearth, where the fire + was out and only a rush-light burning. + </p> + <p> + There we all looked upon him for a while, exulting greatly in our success, + but yet with a sort of pity for the man’s shame. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Mr. Ebenezer,” said the lawyer, “you must not be + down-hearted, for I promise you we shall make easy terms. In the meanwhile + give us the cellar key, and Torrance shall draw us a bottle of your + father’s wine in honour of the event.” Then, turning to me and taking me + by the hand, “Mr. David,” says he, “I wish you all joy in your good + fortune, which I believe to be deserved.” And then to Alan, with a spice + of drollery, “Mr. Thomson, I pay you my compliment; it was most artfully + conducted; but in one point you somewhat outran my comprehension. Do I + understand your name to be James? or Charles? or is it George, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + “And why should it be any of the three, sir?” quoth Alan, drawing himself + up, like one who smelt an offence. + </p> + <p> + “Only, sir, that you mentioned a king’s name,” replied Rankeillor; “and as + there has never yet been a King Thomson, or his fame at least has never + come my way, I judged you must refer to that you had in baptism.” + </p> + <p> + This was just the stab that Alan would feel keenest, and I am free to + confess he took it very ill. Not a word would he answer, but stepped off + to the far end of the kitchen, and sat down and sulked; and it was not + till I stepped after him, and gave him my hand, and thanked him by title + as the chief spring of my success, that he began to smile a bit, and was + at last prevailed upon to join our party. + </p> + <p> + By that time we had the fire lighted, and a bottle of wine uncorked; a + good supper came out of the basket, to which Torrance and I and Alan set + ourselves down; while the lawyer and my uncle passed into the next chamber + to consult. They stayed there closeted about an hour; at the end of which + period they had come to a good understanding, and my uncle and I set our + hands to the agreement in a formal manner. By the terms of this, my uncle + bound himself to satisfy Rankeillor as to his intromissions, and to pay me + two clear thirds of the yearly income of Shaws. + </p> + <p> + So the beggar in the ballad had come home; and when I lay down that night + on the kitchen chests, I was a man of means and had a name in the country. + Alan and Torrance and Rankeillor slept and snored on their hard beds; but + for me who had lain out under heaven and upon dirt and stones, so many + days and nights, and often with an empty belly, and in fear of death, this + good change in my case unmanned me more than any of the former evil ones; + and I lay till dawn, looking at the fire on the roof and planning the + future. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0322m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0322m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0322.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX + </h2> + <h3> + GOOD-BYE + </h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width:15%;"> + <img src="images/9322m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="9322m " width="100%" /> + <a href="images/9322.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </div> + <p> + o far as I was concerned myself, I had come to port; but I had still + Alan, to whom I was so much beholden, on my hands; and I felt besides a + heavy charge in the matter of the murder and James of the Glens. On both + these heads I unbosomed to Rankeillor the next morning, walking to and fro + about six of the clock before the house of Shaws, and with nothing in view + but the fields and woods that had been my ancestors’ and were now mine. + Even as I spoke on these grave subjects, my eye would take a glad bit of a + run over the prospect, and my heart jump with pride. + </p> + <p> + About my clear duty to my friend, the lawyer had no doubt. I must help him + out of the county at whatever risk; but in the case of James, he was of a + different mind. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Thomson,” says he, “is one thing, Mr. Thomson’s kinsman quite + another. I know little of the facts, but I gather that a great noble (whom + we will call, if you like, the D. of A.)* has some concern and is even + supposed to feel some animosity in the matter. The D. of A. is doubtless + an excellent nobleman; but, Mr. David, timeo qui nocuere deos. If you + interfere to balk his vengeance, you should remember there is one way to + shut your testimony out; and that is to put you in the dock. There, you + would be in the same pickle as Mr. Thomson’s kinsman. You will object that + you are innocent; well, but so is he. And to be tried for your life before + a Highland jury, on a Highland quarrel and with a Highland Judge upon the + bench, would be a brief transition to the gallows.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * The Duke of Argyle. +</pre> + <p> + Now I had made all these reasonings before and found no very good reply to + them; so I put on all the simplicity I could. “In that case, sir,” said I, + “I would just have to be hanged—would I not?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy,” cries he, “go in God’s name, and do what you think is + right. It is a poor thought that at my time of life I should be advising + you to choose the safe and shameful; and I take it back with an apology. + Go and do your duty; and be hanged, if you must, like a gentleman. There + are worse things in the world than to be hanged.” + </p> + <p> + “Not many, sir,” said I, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, sir,” he cried, “very many. And it would be ten times better + for your uncle (to go no farther afield) if he were dangling decently upon + a gibbet.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he turned into the house (still in a great fervour of mind, so + that I saw I had pleased him heartily) and there he wrote me two letters, + making his comments on them as he wrote. + </p> + <p> + “This,” says he, “is to my bankers, the British Linen Company, placing a + credit to your name. Consult Mr. Thomson, he will know of ways; and you, + with this credit, can supply the means. I trust you will be a good husband + of your money; but in the affair of a friend like Mr. Thomson, I would be + even prodigal. Then for his kinsman, there is no better way than that you + should seek the Advocate, tell him your tale, and offer testimony; whether + he may take it or not, is quite another matter, and will turn on the D. of + A. Now, that you may reach the Lord Advocate well recommended, I give you + here a letter to a namesake of your own, the learned Mr. Balfour of + Pilrig, a man whom I esteem. It will look better that you should be + presented by one of your own name; and the laird of Pilrig is much looked + up to in the Faculty and stands well with Lord Advocate Grant. I would not + trouble him, if I were you, with any particulars; and (do you know?) I + think it would be needless to refer to Mr. Thomson. Form yourself upon the + laird, he is a good model; when you deal with the Advocate, be discreet; + and in all these matters, may the Lord guide you, Mr. David!” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he took his farewell, and set out with Torrance for the Ferry, + while Alan and I turned our faces for the city of Edinburgh. As we went by + the footpath and beside the gateposts and the unfinished lodge, we kept + looking back at the house of my fathers. It stood there, bare and great + and smokeless, like a place not lived in; only in one of the top windows, + there was the peak of a nightcap bobbing up and down and back and forward, + like the head of a rabbit from a burrow. I had little welcome when I came, + and less kindness while I stayed; but at least I was watched as I went + away. + </p> + <p> + Alan and I went slowly forward upon our way, having little heart either to + walk or speak. The same thought was uppermost in both, that we were near + the time of our parting; and remembrance of all the bygone days sate upon + us sorely. We talked indeed of what should be done; and it was resolved + that Alan should keep to the county, biding now here, now there, but + coming once in the day to a particular place where I might be able to + communicate with him, either in my own person or by messenger. In the + meanwhile, I was to seek out a lawyer, who was an Appin Stewart, and a man + therefore to be wholly trusted; and it should be his part to find a ship + and to arrange for Alan’s safe embarkation. No sooner was this business + done, than the words seemed to leave us; and though I would seek to jest + with Alan under the name of Mr. Thomson, and he with me on my new clothes + and my estate, you could feel very well that we were nearer tears than + laughter. + </p> + <p> + We came the by-way over the hill of Corstorphine; and when we got near to + the place called Rest-and-be-Thankful, and looked down on Corstorphine + bogs and over to the city and the castle on the hill, we both stopped, for + we both knew without a word said that we had come to where our ways + parted. Here he repeated to me once again what had been agreed upon + between us: the address of the lawyer, the daily hour at which Alan might + be found, and the signals that were to be made by any that came seeking + him. Then I gave what money I had (a guinea or two of Rankeillor’s) so + that he should not starve in the meanwhile; and then we stood a space, and + looked over at Edinburgh in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Well, good-bye,” said Alan, and held out his left hand. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> + <img src="images/0325m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0325m " /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0325.jpg" style="width:100%;" ><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> + </h5> + <p> + “Good-bye,” said I, and gave the hand a little grasp, and went off down + hill. + </p> + <p> + Neither one of us looked the other in the face, nor so long as he was in + my view did I take one back glance at the friend I was leaving. But as I + went on my way to the city, I felt so lost and lonesome, that I could have + found it in my heart to sit down by the dyke, and cry and weep like any + baby. + </p> + <p> + It was coming near noon when I passed in by the West Kirk and the + Grassmarket into the streets of the capital. The huge height of the + buildings, running up to ten and fifteen storeys, the narrow arched + entries that continually vomited passengers, the wares of the merchants in + their windows, the hubbub and endless stir, the foul smells and the fine + clothes, and a hundred other particulars too small to mention, struck me + into a kind of stupor of surprise, so that I let the crowd carry me to and + fro; and yet all the time what I was thinking of was Alan at + Rest-and-be-Thankful; and all the time (although you would think I would + not choose but be delighted with these braws and novelties) there was a + cold gnawing in my inside like a remorse for something wrong. + </p> + <p> + The hand of Providence brought me in my drifting to the very doors of the + British Linen Company’s bank. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Kidnapped, by Robert Louis Stevenson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KIDNAPPED *** + +***** This file should be named 421-h.htm or 421-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/421/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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b/old/old-2024-03-11/421-h/images/9322m.jpg diff --git a/old/old-2024-03-11/421-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/old-2024-03-11/421-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8cc1c85 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old-2024-03-11/421-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/old/old-2024-03-11/421-h/images/enlarge.jpg b/old/old-2024-03-11/421-h/images/enlarge.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5a9bcf3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old-2024-03-11/421-h/images/enlarge.jpg diff --git a/old/old-2024-03-11/421.txt b/old/old-2024-03-11/421.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc8b849 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old-2024-03-11/421.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8816 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Kidnapped, by Robert Louis Stevenson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Kidnapped + +Author: Robert Louis Stevenson + +Release Date: January 16, 2006 [EBook #421] +Last updated: April 7, 2012 +Last updated: April 12, 2012 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KIDNAPPED *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + + + + + + KIDNAPPED + BEING + MEMOIRS OF THE ADVENTURES OF + DAVID BALFOUR + IN THE YEAR 1751 + + + + HOW HE WAS KIDNAPPED AND CAST AWAY; HIS SUFFERINGS IN + A DESERT ISLE; HIS JOURNEY IN THE WILD HIGHLANDS; + HIS ACQUAINTANCE WITH ALAN BRECK STEWART + AND OTHER NOTORIOUS HIGHLAND JACOBITES; + WITH ALL THAT HE SUFFERED AT THE + HANDS OF HIS UNCLE, EBENEZER + BALFOUR OF SHAWS, FALSELY + SO CALLED + + WRITTEN BY HIMSELF AND NOW SET FORTH BY + ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON + WITH A PREFACE BY MRS. STEVENSON + + + +PREFACE TO THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION + +While my husband and Mr. Henley were engaged in writing plays in +Bournemouth they made a number of titles, hoping to use them in the +future. Dramatic composition was not what my husband preferred, but +the torrent of Mr. Henley's enthusiasm swept him off his feet. However, +after several plays had been finished, and his health seriously impaired +by his endeavours to keep up with Mr. Henley, play writing was abandoned +forever, and my husband returned to his legitimate vocation. Having +added one of the titles, The Hanging Judge, to the list of projected +plays, now thrown aside, and emboldened by my husband's offer to give me +any help needed, I concluded to try and write it myself. + +As I wanted a trial scene in the Old Bailey, I chose the period of 1700 +for my purpose; but being shamefully ignorant of my subject, and my +husband confessing to little more knowledge than I possessed, a London +bookseller was commissioned to send us everything he could procure +bearing on Old Bailey trials. A great package came in response to our +order, and very soon we were both absorbed, not so much in the trials +as in following the brilliant career of a Mr. Garrow, who appeared as +counsel in many of the cases. We sent for more books, and yet more, +still intent on Mr. Garrow, whose subtle cross-examination of witnesses +and masterly, if sometimes startling, methods of arriving at the truth +seemed more thrilling to us than any novel. + +Occasionally other trials than those of the Old Bailey would be included +in the package of books we received from London; among these my husband +found and read with avidity:-- + + THE + TRIAL + OF + JAMES STEWART + in Aucharn in Duror of Appin + FOR THE + Murder of COLIN CAMPBELL of Glenure, Efq; + Factor for His Majefty on the forfeited + Estate of Ardfhiel. + +My husband was always interested in this period of his country's +history, and had already the intention of writing a story that should +turn on the Appin murder. The tale was to be of a boy, David Balfour, +supposed to belong to my husband's own family, who should travel in +Scotland as though it were a foreign country, meeting with various +adventures and misadventures by the way. From the trial of James Stewart +my husband gleaned much valuable material for his novel, the most +important being the character of Alan Breck. Aside from having described +him as "smallish in stature," my husband seems to have taken Alan +Breck's personal appearance, even to his clothing, from the book. + +A letter from James Stewart to Mr. John Macfarlane, introduced as +evidence in the trial, says: "There is one Alan Stewart, a distant +friend of the late Ardshiel's, who is in the French service, and came +over in March last, as he said to some, in order to settle at home; to +others, that he was to go soon back; and was, as I hear, the day that +the murder was committed, seen not far from the place where it happened, +and is not now to be seen; by which it is believed he was the actor. He +is a desperate foolish fellow; and if he is guilty, came to the country +for that very purpose. He is a tall, pock-pitted lad, very black hair, +and wore a blue coat and metal buttons, an old red vest, and breeches of +the same colour." A second witness testified to having seen him wearing +"a blue coat with silver buttons, a red waistcoat, black shag breeches, +tartan hose, and a feathered hat, with a big coat, dun coloured," a +costume referred to by one of the counsel as "French cloathes which were +remarkable." + +There are many incidents given in the trial that point to Alan's fiery +spirit and Highland quickness to take offence. One witness "declared +also That the said Alan Breck threatened that he would challenge +Ballieveolan and his sons to fight because of his removing the +declarant last year from Glenduror." On another page: "Duncan Campbell, +change-keeper at Annat, aged thirty-five years, married, witness cited, +sworn, purged and examined ut supra, depones, That, in the month of +April last, the deponent met with Alan Breck Stewart, with whom he was +not acquainted, and John Stewart, in Auchnacoan, in the house of the +walk miller of Auchofragan, and went on with them to the house: Alan +Breck Stewart said, that he hated all the name of Campbell; and the +deponent said, he had no reason for doing so: But Alan said, he had very +good reason for it: that thereafter they left that house; and, after +drinking a dram at another house, came to the deponent's house, where +they went in, and drunk some drams, and Alan Breck renewed the former +Conversation; and the deponent, making the same answer, Alan said, that, +if the deponent had any respect for his friends, he would tell them, +that if they offered to turn out the possessors of Ardshiel's estate, he +would make black cocks of them, before they entered into possession by +which the deponent understood shooting them, it being a common phrase in +the country." + +Some time after the publication of Kidnapped we stopped for a short +while in the Appin country, where we were surprised and interested to +discover that the feeling concerning the murder of Glenure (the "Red +Fox," also called "Colin Roy") was almost as keen as though the tragedy +had taken place the day before. For several years my husband received +letters of expostulation or commendation from members of the Campbell +and Stewart clans. I have in my possession a paper, yellow with age, +that was sent soon after the novel appeared, containing "The Pedigree of +the Family of Appine," wherein it is said that "Alan 3rd Baron of Appine +was not killed at Flowdoun, tho there, but lived to a great old age. He +married Cameron Daughter to Ewen Cameron of Lochiel." Following this +is a paragraph stating that "John Stewart 1st of Ardsheall of his +descendants Alan Breck had better be omitted. Duncan Baan Stewart in +Achindarroch his father was a Bastard." + +One day, while my husband was busily at work, I sat beside him reading +an old cookery book called The Compleat Housewife: or Accomplish'd +Gentlewoman's Companion. In the midst of receipts for "Rabbits, and +Chickens mumbled, Pickled Samphire, Skirret Pye, Baked Tansy," and +other forgotten delicacies, there were directions for the preparation +of several lotions for the preservation of beauty. One of these was so +charming that I interrupted my husband to read it aloud. "Just what +I wanted!" he exclaimed; and the receipt for the "Lily of the Valley +Water" was instantly incorporated into Kidnapped. + +F. V. DE G. S. + + + + +DEDICATION + +MY DEAR CHARLES BAXTER: + + +If you ever read this tale, you will likely ask yourself more questions +than I should care to answer: as for instance how the Appin murder has +come to fall in the year 1751, how the Torran rocks have crept so near +to Earraid, or why the printed trial is silent as to all that touches +David Balfour. These are nuts beyond my ability to crack. But if you +tried me on the point of Alan's guilt or innocence, I think I could +defend the reading of the text. To this day you will find the tradition +of Appin clear in Alan's favour. If you inquire, you may even hear that +the descendants of "the other man" who fired the shot are in the country +to this day. But that other man's name, inquire as you please, you shall +not hear; for the Highlander values a secret for itself and for the +congenial exercise of keeping it. I might go on for long to justify one +point and own another indefensible; it is more honest to confess at once +how little I am touched by the desire of accuracy. This is no furniture +for the scholar's library, but a book for the winter evening school-room +when the tasks are over and the hour for bed draws near; and honest +Alan, who was a grim old fire-eater in his day has in this new avatar +no more desperate purpose than to steal some young gentleman's attention +from his Ovid, carry him awhile into the Highlands and the last century, +and pack him to bed with some engaging images to mingle with his dreams. + +As for you, my dear Charles, I do not even ask you to like this tale. +But perhaps when he is older, your son will; he may then be pleased to +find his father's name on the fly-leaf; and in the meanwhile it pleases +me to set it there, in memory of many days that were happy and some (now +perhaps as pleasant to remember) that were sad. If it is strange for +me to look back from a distance both in time and space on these bygone +adventures of our youth, it must be stranger for you who tread the same +streets--who may to-morrow open the door of the old Speculative, +where we begin to rank with Scott and Robert Emmet and the beloved and +inglorious Macbean--or may pass the corner of the close where that great +society, the L. J. R., held its meetings and drank its beer, sitting in +the seats of Burns and his companions. I think I see you, moving there +by plain daylight, beholding with your natural eyes those places that +have now become for your companion a part of the scenery of dreams. How, +in the intervals of present business, the past must echo in your memory! +Let it not echo often without some kind thoughts of your friend, + +R.L.S. SKERRYVORE, BOURNEMOUTH. + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER + + I I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + II I COME TO MY JOURNEY'S END + III I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE + IV I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + V I GO TO THE QUEEN'S FERRY + VI WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN'S FERRY + VII I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG "COVENANT" OF DYSART + VIII THE ROUND-HOUSE + IX THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD + X THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE + XI THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER + XII I HEAR OF THE "RED FOX" + XIII THE LOSS OF THE BRIG + XIV THE ISLET + XV THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL + XVI THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN + XVII THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX + XVIIII TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE + XIX THE HOUSE OF FEAR + XX THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS + XXI THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH + XXII THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR + XXIII CLUNY'S CAGE + XXIV THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE QUARREL IN BALQUHIDDER + XXVI END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH + XXVII I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR + XXVIII I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE + XXIX I COME INTO MY KINGDOM + XXX GOOD-BYE + + + +CHAPTER I + +I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + +I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in +the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the +last time out of the door of my father's house. The sun began to shine +upon the summit of the hills as I went down the road; and by the time +I had come as far as the manse, the blackbirds were whistling in the +garden lilacs, and the mist that hung around the valley in the time of +the dawn was beginning to arise and die away. + +Mr. Campbell, the minister of Essendean, was waiting for me by the +garden gate, good man! He asked me if I had breakfasted; and hearing +that I lacked for nothing, he took my hand in both of his and clapped it +kindly under his arm. + +"Well, Davie, lad," said he, "I will go with you as far as the ford, to +set you on the way." And we began to walk forward in silence. + +"Are ye sorry to leave Essendean?" said he, after awhile. + +"Why, sir," said I, "if I knew where I was going, or what was likely +to become of me, I would tell you candidly. Essendean is a good place +indeed, and I have been very happy there; but then I have never been +anywhere else. My father and mother, since they are both dead, I shall +be no nearer to in Essendean than in the Kingdom of Hungary, and, to +speak truth, if I thought I had a chance to better myself where I was +going I would go with a good will." + +"Ay?" said Mr. Campbell. "Very well, Davie. Then it behoves me to tell +your fortune; or so far as I may. When your mother was gone, and your +father (the worthy, Christian man) began to sicken for his end, he gave +me in charge a certain letter, which he said was your inheritance. 'So +soon,' says he, 'as I am gone, and the house is redd up and the gear +disposed of' (all which, Davie, hath been done), 'give my boy this +letter into his hand, and start him off to the house of Shaws, not far +from Cramond. That is the place I came from,' he said, 'and it's where +it befits that my boy should return. He is a steady lad,' your father +said, 'and a canny goer; and I doubt not he will come safe, and be well +lived where he goes.'" + +"The house of Shaws!" I cried. "What had my poor father to do with the +house of Shaws?" + +"Nay," said Mr. Campbell, "who can tell that for a surety? But the name +of that family, Davie, boy, is the name you bear--Balfours of Shaws: +an ancient, honest, reputable house, peradventure in these latter +days decayed. Your father, too, was a man of learning as befitted his +position; no man more plausibly conducted school; nor had he the manner +or the speech of a common dominie; but (as ye will yourself remember) +I took aye a pleasure to have him to the manse to meet the gentry; and +those of my own house, Campbell of Kilrennet, Campbell of Dunswire, +Campbell of Minch, and others, all well-kenned gentlemen, had pleasure +in his society. Lastly, to put all the elements of this affair before +you, here is the testamentary letter itself, superscrived by the own +hand of our departed brother." + +He gave me the letter, which was addressed in these words: "To the hands +of Ebenezer Balfour, Esquire, of Shaws, in his house of Shaws, these +will be delivered by my son, David Balfour." My heart was beating hard +at this great prospect now suddenly opening before a lad of seventeen +years of age, the son of a poor country dominie in the Forest of +Ettrick. + +"Mr. Campbell," I stammered, "and if you were in my shoes, would you +go?" + +"Of a surety," said the minister, "that would I, and without pause. +A pretty lad like you should get to Cramond (which is near in by +Edinburgh) in two days of walk. If the worst came to the worst, and +your high relations (as I cannot but suppose them to be somewhat of your +blood) should put you to the door, ye can but walk the two days back +again and risp at the manse door. But I would rather hope that ye shall +be well received, as your poor father forecast for you, and for anything +that I ken come to be a great man in time. And here, Davie, laddie," he +resumed, "it lies near upon my conscience to improve this parting, and +set you on the right guard against the dangers of the world." + +Here he cast about for a comfortable seat, lighted on a big boulder +under a birch by the trackside, sate down upon it with a very long, +serious upper lip, and the sun now shining in upon us between two peaks, +put his pocket-handkerchief over his cocked hat to shelter him. There, +then, with uplifted forefinger, he first put me on my guard against a +considerable number of heresies, to which I had no temptation, and urged +upon me to be instant in my prayers and reading of the Bible. That done, +he drew a picture of the great house that I was bound to, and how I +should conduct myself with its inhabitants. + +"Be soople, Davie, in things immaterial," said he. "Bear ye this in +mind, that, though gentle born, ye have had a country rearing. Dinnae +shame us, Davie, dinnae shame us! In yon great, muckle house, with all +these domestics, upper and under, show yourself as nice, as circumspect, +as quick at the conception, and as slow of speech as any. As for the +laird--remember he's the laird; I say no more: honour to whom honour. +It's a pleasure to obey a laird; or should be, to the young." + +"Well, sir," said I, "it may be; and I'll promise you I'll try to make +it so." + +"Why, very well said," replied Mr. Campbell, heartily. "And now to come +to the material, or (to make a quibble) to the immaterial. I have here +a little packet which contains four things." He tugged it, as he spoke, +and with some great difficulty, from the skirt pocket of his coat. "Of +these four things, the first is your legal due: the little pickle money +for your father's books and plenishing, which I have bought (as I have +explained from the first) in the design of re-selling at a profit to +the incoming dominie. The other three are gifties that Mrs. Campbell and +myself would be blithe of your acceptance. The first, which is round, +will likely please ye best at the first off-go; but, O Davie, laddie, +it's but a drop of water in the sea; it'll help you but a step, and +vanish like the morning. The second, which is flat and square and +written upon, will stand by you through life, like a good staff for the +road, and a good pillow to your head in sickness. And as for the last, +which is cubical, that'll see you, it's my prayerful wish, into a better +land." + +With that he got upon his feet, took off his hat, and prayed a little +while aloud, and in affecting terms, for a young man setting out into +the world; then suddenly took me in his arms and embraced me very hard; +then held me at arm's length, looking at me with his face all working +with sorrow; and then whipped about, and crying good-bye to me, set off +backward by the way that we had come at a sort of jogging run. It might +have been laughable to another; but I was in no mind to laugh. I watched +him as long as he was in sight; and he never stopped hurrying, nor once +looked back. Then it came in upon my mind that this was all his sorrow +at my departure; and my conscience smote me hard and fast, because I, +for my part, was overjoyed to get away out of that quiet country-side, +and go to a great, busy house, among rich and respected gentlefolk of my +own name and blood. + +"Davie, Davie," I thought, "was ever seen such black ingratitude? Can +you forget old favours and old friends at the mere whistle of a name? +Fie, fie; think shame." + +And I sat down on the boulder the good man had just left, and opened the +parcel to see the nature of my gifts. That which he had called cubical, +I had never had much doubt of; sure enough it was a little Bible, to +carry in a plaid-neuk. That which he had called round, I found to be a +shilling piece; and the third, which was to help me so wonderfully both +in health and sickness all the days of my life, was a little piece of +coarse yellow paper, written upon thus in red ink: + + +"TO MAKE LILLY OF THE VALLEY WATER.--Take the flowers of lilly of the +valley and distil them in sack, and drink a spooneful or two as there is +occasion. It restores speech to those that have the dumb palsey. It is +good against the Gout; it comforts the heart and strengthens the memory; +and the flowers, put into a Glasse, close stopt, and set into ane hill +of ants for a month, then take it out, and you will find a liquor which +comes from the flowers, which keep in a vial; it is good, ill or well, +and whether man or woman." + + + +And then, in the minister's own hand, was added: + +"Likewise for sprains, rub it in; and for the cholic, a great spooneful +in the hour." + + +To be sure, I laughed over this; but it was rather tremulous laughter; +and I was glad to get my bundle on my staff's end and set out over the +ford and up the hill upon the farther side; till, just as I came on the +green drove-road running wide through the heather, I took my last look +of Kirk Essendean, the trees about the manse, and the big rowans in the +kirkyard where my father and my mother lay. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +I COME TO MY JOURNEY'S END + +On the forenoon of the second day, coming to the top of a hill, I saw +all the country fall away before me down to the sea; and in the midst +of this descent, on a long ridge, the city of Edinburgh smoking like +a kiln. There was a flag upon the castle, and ships moving or lying +anchored in the firth; both of which, for as far away as they were, I +could distinguish clearly; and both brought my country heart into my +mouth. + +Presently after, I came by a house where a shepherd lived, and got a +rough direction for the neighbourhood of Cramond; and so, from one to +another, worked my way to the westward of the capital by Colinton, till +I came out upon the Glasgow road. And there, to my great pleasure and +wonder, I beheld a regiment marching to the fifes, every foot in time; +an old red-faced general on a grey horse at the one end, and at the +other the company of Grenadiers, with their Pope's-hats. The pride of +life seemed to mount into my brain at the sight of the red coats and the +hearing of that merry music. + +A little farther on, and I was told I was in Cramond parish, and began +to substitute in my inquiries the name of the house of Shaws. It was a +word that seemed to surprise those of whom I sought my way. At first I +thought the plainness of my appearance, in my country habit, and that +all dusty from the road, consorted ill with the greatness of the place +to which I was bound. But after two, or maybe three, had given me the +same look and the same answer, I began to take it in my head there was +something strange about the Shaws itself. + +The better to set this fear at rest, I changed the form of my inquiries; +and spying an honest fellow coming along a lane on the shaft of his +cart, I asked him if he had ever heard tell of a house they called the +house of Shaws. + +He stopped his cart and looked at me, like the others. + +"Ay" said he. "What for?" + +"It's a great house?" I asked. + +"Doubtless," says he. "The house is a big, muckle house." + +"Ay," said I, "but the folk that are in it?" + +"Folk?" cried he. "Are ye daft? There's nae folk there--to call folk." + +"What?" say I; "not Mr. Ebenezer?" + +"Ou, ay" says the man; "there's the laird, to be sure, if it's him +you're wanting. What'll like be your business, mannie?" + +"I was led to think that I would get a situation," I said, looking as +modest as I could. + +"What?" cries the carter, in so sharp a note that his very horse +started; and then, "Well, mannie," he added, "it's nane of my affairs; +but ye seem a decent-spoken lad; and if ye'll take a word from me, ye'll +keep clear of the Shaws." + +The next person I came across was a dapper little man in a beautiful +white wig, whom I saw to be a barber on his rounds; and knowing well +that barbers were great gossips, I asked him plainly what sort of a man +was Mr. Balfour of the Shaws. + +"Hoot, hoot, hoot," said the barber, "nae kind of a man, nae kind of a +man at all;" and began to ask me very shrewdly what my business was; +but I was more than a match for him at that, and he went on to his next +customer no wiser than he came. + +I cannot well describe the blow this dealt to my illusions. The more +indistinct the accusations were, the less I liked them, for they left +the wider field to fancy. What kind of a great house was this, that all +the parish should start and stare to be asked the way to it? or what +sort of a gentleman, that his ill-fame should be thus current on the +wayside? If an hour's walking would have brought me back to Essendean, I +had left my adventure then and there, and returned to Mr. Campbell's. +But when I had come so far a way already, mere shame would not suffer me +to desist till I had put the matter to the touch of proof; I was bound, +out of mere self-respect, to carry it through; and little as I liked +the sound of what I heard, and slow as I began to travel, I still kept +asking my way and still kept advancing. + +It was drawing on to sundown when I met a stout, dark, sour-looking +woman coming trudging down a hill; and she, when I had put my usual +question, turned sharp about, accompanied me back to the summit she had +just left, and pointed to a great bulk of building standing very bare +upon a green in the bottom of the next valley. The country was pleasant +round about, running in low hills, pleasantly watered and wooded, and +the crops, to my eyes, wonderfully good; but the house itself appeared +to be a kind of ruin; no road led up to it; no smoke arose from any of +the chimneys; nor was there any semblance of a garden. My heart sank. +"That!" I cried. + +The woman's face lit up with a malignant anger. "That is the house of +Shaws!" she cried. "Blood built it; blood stopped the building of it; +blood shall bring it down. See here!" she cried again--"I spit upon +the ground, and crack my thumb at it! Black be its fall! If ye see the +laird, tell him what ye hear; tell him this makes the twelve hunner and +nineteen time that Jennet Clouston has called down the curse on him +and his house, byre and stable, man, guest, and master, wife, miss, or +bairn--black, black be their fall!" + +And the woman, whose voice had risen to a kind of eldritch sing-song, +turned with a skip, and was gone. I stood where she left me, with my +hair on end. In those days folk still believed in witches and trembled +at a curse; and this one, falling so pat, like a wayside omen, to arrest +me ere I carried out my purpose, took the pith out of my legs. + +I sat me down and stared at the house of Shaws. The more I looked, +the pleasanter that country-side appeared; being all set with hawthorn +bushes full of flowers; the fields dotted with sheep; a fine flight of +rooks in the sky; and every sign of a kind soil and climate; and yet the +barrack in the midst of it went sore against my fancy. + +Country folk went by from the fields as I sat there on the side of the +ditch, but I lacked the spirit to give them a good-e'en. At last the sun +went down, and then, right up against the yellow sky, I saw a scroll of +smoke go mounting, not much thicker, as it seemed to me, than the smoke +of a candle; but still there it was, and meant a fire, and warmth, and +cookery, and some living inhabitant that must have lit it; and this +comforted my heart. + +So I set forward by a little faint track in the grass that led in my +direction. It was very faint indeed to be the only way to a place +of habitation; yet I saw no other. Presently it brought me to stone +uprights, with an unroofed lodge beside them, and coats of arms upon +the top. A main entrance it was plainly meant to be, but never finished; +instead of gates of wrought iron, a pair of hurdles were tied across +with a straw rope; and as there were no park walls, nor any sign of +avenue, the track that I was following passed on the right hand of the +pillars, and went wandering on toward the house. + +The nearer I got to that, the drearier it appeared. It seemed like the +one wing of a house that had never been finished. What should have been +the inner end stood open on the upper floors, and showed against the sky +with steps and stairs of uncompleted masonry. Many of the windows were +unglazed, and bats flew in and out like doves out of a dove-cote. + +The night had begun to fall as I got close; and in three of the lower +windows, which were very high up and narrow, and well barred, the +changing light of a little fire began to glimmer. Was this the palace +I had been coming to? Was it within these walls that I was to seek +new friends and begin great fortunes? Why, in my father's house on +Essen-Waterside, the fire and the bright lights would show a mile away, +and the door open to a beggar's knock! + +I came forward cautiously, and giving ear as I came, heard some one +rattling with dishes, and a little dry, eager cough that came in fits; +but there was no sound of speech, and not a dog barked. + +The door, as well as I could see it in the dim light, was a great piece +of wood all studded with nails; and I lifted my hand with a faint heart +under my jacket, and knocked once. Then I stood and waited. The house +had fallen into a dead silence; a whole minute passed away, and nothing +stirred but the bats overhead. I knocked again, and hearkened again. +By this time my ears had grown so accustomed to the quiet, that I +could hear the ticking of the clock inside as it slowly counted out the +seconds; but whoever was in that house kept deadly still, and must have +held his breath. + +I was in two minds whether to run away; but anger got the upper hand, +and I began instead to rain kicks and buffets on the door, and to shout +out aloud for Mr. Balfour. I was in full career, when I heard the cough +right overhead, and jumping back and looking up, beheld a man's head +in a tall nightcap, and the bell mouth of a blunderbuss, at one of the +first-storey windows. + +"It's loaded," said a voice. + +"I have come here with a letter," I said, "to Mr. Ebenezer Balfour of +Shaws. Is he here?" + +"From whom is it?" asked the man with the blunderbuss. + +"That is neither here nor there," said I, for I was growing very wroth. + +"Well," was the reply, "ye can put it down upon the doorstep, and be off +with ye." + +"I will do no such thing," I cried. "I will deliver it into Mr. +Balfour's hands, as it was meant I should. It is a letter of +introduction." + +"A what?" cried the voice, sharply. + +I repeated what I had said. + +"Who are ye, yourself?" was the next question, after a considerable +pause. + +"I am not ashamed of my name," said I. "They call me David Balfour." + +At that, I made sure the man started, for I heard the blunderbuss rattle +on the window-sill; and it was after quite a long pause, and with a +curious change of voice, that the next question followed: + +"Is your father dead?" + +I was so much surprised at this, that I could find no voice to answer, +but stood staring. + +"Ay," the man resumed, "he'll be dead, no doubt; and that'll be what +brings ye chapping to my door." Another pause, and then defiantly, +"Well, man," he said, "I'll let ye in;" and he disappeared from the +window. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE + +Presently there came a great rattling of chains and bolts, and the +door was cautiously opened and shut to again behind me as soon as I had +passed. + +"Go into the kitchen and touch naething," said the voice; and while the +person of the house set himself to replacing the defences of the door, I +groped my way forward and entered the kitchen. + +The fire had burned up fairly bright, and showed me the barest room I +think I ever put my eyes on. Half-a-dozen dishes stood upon the shelves; +the table was laid for supper with a bowl of porridge, a horn spoon, and +a cup of small beer. Besides what I have named, there was not another +thing in that great, stone-vaulted, empty chamber but lockfast chests +arranged along the wall and a corner cupboard with a padlock. + +As soon as the last chain was up, the man rejoined me. He was a mean, +stooping, narrow-shouldered, clay-faced creature; and his age might have +been anything between fifty and seventy. His nightcap was of flannel, +and so was the nightgown that he wore, instead of coat and waistcoat, +over his ragged shirt. He was long unshaved; but what most distressed +and even daunted me, he would neither take his eyes away from me nor +look me fairly in the face. What he was, whether by trade or birth, was +more than I could fathom; but he seemed most like an old, unprofitable +serving-man, who should have been left in charge of that big house upon +board wages. + +"Are ye sharp-set?" he asked, glancing at about the level of my knee. +"Ye can eat that drop parritch?" + +I said I feared it was his own supper. + +"O," said he, "I can do fine wanting it. I'll take the ale, though, for +it slockens (moistens) my cough." He drank the cup about half out, still +keeping an eye upon me as he drank; and then suddenly held out his hand. +"Let's see the letter," said he. + +I told him the letter was for Mr. Balfour; not for him. + +"And who do ye think I am?" says he. "Give me Alexander's letter." + +"You know my father's name?" + +"It would be strange if I didnae," he returned, "for he was my born +brother; and little as ye seem to like either me or my house, or my good +parritch, I'm your born uncle, Davie, my man, and you my born nephew. So +give us the letter, and sit down and fill your kyte." + +If I had been some years younger, what with shame, weariness, and +disappointment, I believe I had burst into tears. As it was, I could +find no words, neither black nor white, but handed him the letter, and +sat down to the porridge with as little appetite for meat as ever a +young man had. + +Meanwhile, my uncle, stooping over the fire, turned the letter over and +over in his hands. + +"Do ye ken what's in it?" he asked, suddenly. + +"You see for yourself, sir," said I, "that the seal has not been +broken." + +"Ay," said he, "but what brought you here?" + +"To give the letter," said I. + +"No," says he, cunningly, "but ye'll have had some hopes, nae doubt?" + +"I confess, sir," said I, "when I was told that I had kinsfolk +well-to-do, I did indeed indulge the hope that they might help me in +my life. But I am no beggar; I look for no favours at your hands, and +I want none that are not freely given. For as poor as I appear, I have +friends of my own that will be blithe to help me." + +"Hoot-toot!" said Uncle Ebenezer, "dinnae fly up in the snuff at me. +We'll agree fine yet. And, Davie, my man, if you're done with that bit +parritch, I could just take a sup of it myself. Ay," he continued, +as soon as he had ousted me from the stool and spoon, "they're fine, +halesome food--they're grand food, parritch." He murmured a little grace +to himself and fell to. "Your father was very fond of his meat, I mind; +he was a hearty, if not a great eater; but as for me, I could never +do mair than pyke at food." He took a pull at the small beer, which +probably reminded him of hospitable duties, for his next speech ran +thus: "If ye're dry ye'll find water behind the door." + +To this I returned no answer, standing stiffly on my two feet, and +looking down upon my uncle with a mighty angry heart. He, on his part, +continued to eat like a man under some pressure of time, and to throw +out little darting glances now at my shoes and now at my home-spun +stockings. Once only, when he had ventured to look a little higher, our +eyes met; and no thief taken with a hand in a man's pocket could have +shown more lively signals of distress. This set me in a muse, whether +his timidity arose from too long a disuse of any human company; and +whether perhaps, upon a little trial, it might pass off, and my uncle +change into an altogether different man. From this I was awakened by his +sharp voice. + +"Your father's been long dead?" he asked. + +"Three weeks, sir," said I. + +"He was a secret man, Alexander--a secret, silent man," he continued. +"He never said muckle when he was young. He'll never have spoken muckle +of me?" + +"I never knew, sir, till you told it me yourself, that he had any +brother." + +"Dear me, dear me!" said Ebenezer. "Nor yet of Shaws, I dare say?" + +"Not so much as the name, sir," said I. + +"To think o' that!" said he. "A strange nature of a man!" For all that, +he seemed singularly satisfied, but whether with himself, or me, or +with this conduct of my father's, was more than I could read. Certainly, +however, he seemed to be outgrowing that distaste, or ill-will, that he +had conceived at first against my person; for presently he jumped up, +came across the room behind me, and hit me a smack upon the shoulder. +"We'll agree fine yet!" he cried. "I'm just as glad I let you in. And +now come awa' to your bed." + +To my surprise, he lit no lamp or candle, but set forth into the dark +passage, groped his way, breathing deeply, up a flight of steps, and +paused before a door, which he unlocked. I was close upon his heels, +having stumbled after him as best I might; and then he bade me go in, +for that was my chamber. I did as he bid, but paused after a few steps, +and begged a light to go to bed with. + +"Hoot-toot!" said Uncle Ebenezer, "there's a fine moon." + +"Neither moon nor star, sir, and pit-mirk,"* said I. "I cannae see the +bed." + + * Dark as the pit. + +"Hoot-toot, hoot-toot!" said he. "Lights in a house is a thing I dinnae +agree with. I'm unco feared of fires. Good-night to ye, Davie, my man." +And before I had time to add a further protest, he pulled the door to, +and I heard him lock me in from the outside. + +I did not know whether to laugh or cry. The room was as cold as a well, +and the bed, when I had found my way to it, as damp as a peat-hag; but +by good fortune I had caught up my bundle and my plaid, and rolling +myself in the latter, I lay down upon the floor under lee of the big +bedstead, and fell speedily asleep. + +With the first peep of day I opened my eyes, to find myself in a great +chamber, hung with stamped leather, furnished with fine embroidered +furniture, and lit by three fair windows. Ten years ago, or perhaps +twenty, it must have been as pleasant a room to lie down or to awake in +as a man could wish; but damp, dirt, disuse, and the mice and spiders +had done their worst since then. Many of the window-panes, besides, were +broken; and indeed this was so common a feature in that house, that I +believe my uncle must at some time have stood a siege from his indignant +neighbours--perhaps with Jennet Clouston at their head. + +Meanwhile the sun was shining outside; and being very cold in that +miserable room, I knocked and shouted till my gaoler came and let me +out. He carried me to the back of the house, where was a draw-well, and +told me to "wash my face there, if I wanted;" and when that was done, +I made the best of my own way back to the kitchen, where he had lit the +fire and was making the porridge. The table was laid with two bowls and +two horn spoons, but the same single measure of small beer. Perhaps my +eye rested on this particular with some surprise, and perhaps my uncle +observed it; for he spoke up as if in answer to my thought, asking me if +I would like to drink ale--for so he called it. + +I told him such was my habit, but not to put himself about. + +"Na, na," said he; "I'll deny you nothing in reason." + +He fetched another cup from the shelf; and then, to my great surprise, +instead of drawing more beer, he poured an accurate half from one cup +to the other. There was a kind of nobleness in this that took my breath +away; if my uncle was certainly a miser, he was one of that thorough +breed that goes near to make the vice respectable. + +When we had made an end of our meal, my uncle Ebenezer unlocked a +drawer, and drew out of it a clay pipe and a lump of tobacco, from which +he cut one fill before he locked it up again. Then he sat down in the +sun at one of the windows and silently smoked. From time to time his +eyes came coasting round to me, and he shot out one of his questions. +Once it was, "And your mother?" and when I had told him that she, too, +was dead, "Ay, she was a bonnie lassie!" Then, after another long pause, +"Whae were these friends o' yours?" + +I told him they were different gentlemen of the name of Campbell; +though, indeed, there was only one, and that the minister, that had ever +taken the least note of me; but I began to think my uncle made too light +of my position, and finding myself all alone with him, I did not wish +him to suppose me helpless. + +He seemed to turn this over in his mind; and then, "Davie, my man," said +he, "ye've come to the right bit when ye came to your uncle Ebenezer. +I've a great notion of the family, and I mean to do the right by you; +but while I'm taking a bit think to mysel' of what's the best thing to +put you to--whether the law, or the meenistry, or maybe the army, whilk +is what boys are fondest of--I wouldnae like the Balfours to be humbled +before a wheen Hieland Campbells, and I'll ask you to keep your tongue +within your teeth. Nae letters; nae messages; no kind of word to +onybody; or else--there's my door." + +"Uncle Ebenezer," said I, "I've no manner of reason to suppose you mean +anything but well by me. For all that, I would have you to know that I +have a pride of my own. It was by no will of mine that I came seeking +you; and if you show me your door again, I'll take you at the word." + +He seemed grievously put out. "Hoots-toots," said he, "ca' cannie, +man--ca' cannie! Bide a day or two. I'm nae warlock, to find a fortune +for you in the bottom of a parritch bowl; but just you give me a day or +two, and say naething to naebody, and as sure as sure, I'll do the right +by you." + +"Very well," said I, "enough said. If you want to help me, there's no +doubt but I'll be glad of it, and none but I'll be grateful." + +It seemed to me (too soon, I dare say) that I was getting the upper +hand of my uncle; and I began next to say that I must have the bed and +bedclothes aired and put to sun-dry; for nothing would make me sleep in +such a pickle. + +"Is this my house or yours?" said he, in his keen voice, and then all of +a sudden broke off. "Na, na," said he, "I didnae mean that. What's mine +is yours, Davie, my man, and what's yours is mine. Blood's thicker than +water; and there's naebody but you and me that ought the name." And +then on he rambled about the family, and its ancient greatness, and his +father that began to enlarge the house, and himself that stopped the +building as a sinful waste; and this put it in my head to give him +Jennet Clouston's message. + +"The limmer!" he cried. "Twelve hunner and fifteen--that's every day +since I had the limmer rowpit!* Dod, David, I'll have her roasted on red +peats before I'm by with it! A witch--a proclaimed witch! I'll aff and +see the session clerk." + + * Sold up. + +And with that he opened a chest, and got out a very old and +well-preserved blue coat and waistcoat, and a good enough beaver hat, +both without lace. These he threw on any way, and taking a staff from +the cupboard, locked all up again, and was for setting out, when a +thought arrested him. + +"I cannae leave you by yoursel' in the house," said he. "I'll have to +lock you out." + +The blood came to my face. "If you lock me out," I said, "it'll be the +last you'll see of me in friendship." + +He turned very pale, and sucked his mouth in. + +"This is no the way," he said, looking wickedly at a corner of the +floor--"this is no the way to win my favour, David." + +"Sir," says I, "with a proper reverence for your age and our common +blood, I do not value your favour at a boddle's purchase. I was brought +up to have a good conceit of myself; and if you were all the uncle, and +all the family, I had in the world ten times over, I wouldn't buy your +liking at such prices." + +Uncle Ebenezer went and looked out of the window for awhile. I could +see him all trembling and twitching, like a man with palsy. But when he +turned round, he had a smile upon his face. + +"Well, well," said he, "we must bear and forbear. I'll no go; that's all +that's to be said of it." + +"Uncle Ebenezer," I said, "I can make nothing out of this. You use me +like a thief; you hate to have me in this house; you let me see it, +every word and every minute: it's not possible that you can like me; and +as for me, I've spoken to you as I never thought to speak to any man. +Why do you seek to keep me, then? Let me gang back--let me gang back to +the friends I have, and that like me!" + +"Na, na; na, na," he said, very earnestly. "I like you fine; we'll agree +fine yet; and for the honour of the house I couldnae let you leave the +way ye came. Bide here quiet, there's a good lad; just you bide here +quiet a bittie, and ye'll find that we agree." + +"Well, sir," said I, after I had thought the matter out in silence, +"I'll stay awhile. It's more just I should be helped by my own blood +than strangers; and if we don't agree, I'll do my best it shall be +through no fault of mine." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS + +For a day that was begun so ill, the day passed fairly well. We had the +porridge cold again at noon, and hot porridge at night; porridge and +small beer was my uncle's diet. He spoke but little, and that in the +same way as before, shooting a question at me after a long silence; and +when I sought to lead him to talk about my future, slipped out of it +again. In a room next door to the kitchen, where he suffered me to go, +I found a great number of books, both Latin and English, in which I took +great pleasure all the afternoon. Indeed, the time passed so lightly in +this good company, that I began to be almost reconciled to my residence +at Shaws; and nothing but the sight of my uncle, and his eyes playing +hide and seek with mine, revived the force of my distrust. + +One thing I discovered, which put me in some doubt. This was an entry on +the fly-leaf of a chap-book (one of Patrick Walker's) plainly written +by my father's hand and thus conceived: "To my brother Ebenezer on his +fifth birthday." Now, what puzzled me was this: That, as my father was of +course the younger brother, he must either have made some strange error, +or he must have written, before he was yet five, an excellent, clear +manly hand of writing. + +I tried to get this out of my head; but though I took down many +interesting authors, old and new, history, poetry, and story-book, this +notion of my father's hand of writing stuck to me; and when at length I +went back into the kitchen, and sat down once more to porridge and small +beer, the first thing I said to Uncle Ebenezer was to ask him if my +father had not been very quick at his book. + +"Alexander? No him!" was the reply. "I was far quicker mysel'; I was a +clever chappie when I was young. Why, I could read as soon as he could." + +This puzzled me yet more; and a thought coming into my head, I asked if +he and my father had been twins. + +He jumped upon his stool, and the horn spoon fell out of his hand upon +the floor. "What gars ye ask that?" he said, and he caught me by the +breast of the jacket, and looked this time straight into my eyes: +his own were little and light, and bright like a bird's, blinking and +winking strangely. + +"What do you mean?" I asked, very calmly, for I was far stronger than +he, and not easily frightened. "Take your hand from my jacket. This is +no way to behave." + +My uncle seemed to make a great effort upon himself. "Dod man, David," +he said, "ye should-nae speak to me about your father. That's where the +mistake is." He sat awhile and shook, blinking in his plate: "He was all +the brother that ever I had," he added, but with no heart in his voice; +and then he caught up his spoon and fell to supper again, but still +shaking. + +Now this last passage, this laying of hands upon my person and +sudden profession of love for my dead father, went so clean beyond my +comprehension that it put me into both fear and hope. On the one hand, +I began to think my uncle was perhaps insane and might be dangerous; +on the other, there came up into my mind (quite unbidden by me and even +discouraged) a story like some ballad I had heard folk singing, of a +poor lad that was a rightful heir and a wicked kinsman that tried +to keep him from his own. For why should my uncle play a part with a +relative that came, almost a beggar, to his door, unless in his heart he +had some cause to fear him? + +With this notion, all unacknowledged, but nevertheless getting firmly +settled in my head, I now began to imitate his covert looks; so that +we sat at table like a cat and a mouse, each stealthily observing the +other. Not another word had he to say to me, black or white, but was +busy turning something secretly over in his mind; and the longer we +sat and the more I looked at him, the more certain I became that the +something was unfriendly to myself. + +When he had cleared the platter, he got out a single pipeful of tobacco, +just as in the morning, turned round a stool into the chimney corner, +and sat awhile smoking, with his back to me. + +"Davie," he said, at length, "I've been thinking;" then he paused, and +said it again. "There's a wee bit siller that I half promised ye before +ye were born," he continued; "promised it to your father. O, naething +legal, ye understand; just gentlemen daffing at their wine. Well, I +keepit that bit money separate--it was a great expense, but a promise +is a promise--and it has grown by now to be a matter of just +precisely--just exactly"--and here he paused and stumbled--"of just +exactly forty pounds!" This last he rapped out with a sidelong glance +over his shoulder; and the next moment added, almost with a scream, +"Scots!" + +The pound Scots being the same thing as an English shilling, the +difference made by this second thought was considerable; I could see, +besides, that the whole story was a lie, invented with some end which +it puzzled me to guess; and I made no attempt to conceal the tone of +raillery in which I answered-- + +"O, think again, sir! Pounds sterling, I believe!" + +"That's what I said," returned my uncle: "pounds sterling! And if you'll +step out-by to the door a minute, just to see what kind of a night it +is, I'll get it out to ye and call ye in again." + +I did his will, smiling to myself in my contempt that he should think I +was so easily to be deceived. It was a dark night, with a few stars low +down; and as I stood just outside the door, I heard a hollow moaning +of wind far off among the hills. I said to myself there was something +thundery and changeful in the weather, and little knew of what a vast +importance that should prove to me before the evening passed. + +When I was called in again, my uncle counted out into my hand seven and +thirty golden guinea pieces; the rest was in his hand, in small gold and +silver; but his heart failed him there, and he crammed the change into +his pocket. + +"There," said he, "that'll show you! I'm a queer man, and strange wi' +strangers; but my word is my bond, and there's the proof of it." + +Now, my uncle seemed so miserly that I was struck dumb by this sudden +generosity, and could find no words in which to thank him. + +"No a word!" said he. "Nae thanks; I want nae thanks. I do my duty. I'm +no saying that everybody would have done it; but for my part (though +I'm a careful body, too) it's a pleasure to me to do the right by my +brother's son; and it's a pleasure to me to think that now we'll agree +as such near friends should." + +I spoke him in return as handsomely as I was able; but all the while +I was wondering what would come next, and why he had parted with his +precious guineas; for as to the reason he had given, a baby would have +refused it. + +Presently he looked towards me sideways. + +"And see here," says he, "tit for tat." + +I told him I was ready to prove my gratitude in any reasonable degree, +and then waited, looking for some monstrous demand. And yet, when +at last he plucked up courage to speak, it was only to tell me (very +properly, as I thought) that he was growing old and a little broken, and +that he would expect me to help him with the house and the bit garden. + +I answered, and expressed my readiness to serve. + +"Well," he said, "let's begin." He pulled out of his pocket a rusty key. +"There," says he, "there's the key of the stair-tower at the far end of +the house. Ye can only win into it from the outside, for that part of +the house is no finished. Gang ye in there, and up the stairs, and bring +me down the chest that's at the top. There's papers in't," he added. + +"Can I have a light, sir?" said I. + +"Na," said he, very cunningly. "Nae lights in my house." + +"Very well, sir," said I. "Are the stairs good?" + +"They're grand," said he; and then, as I was going, "Keep to the wall," +he added; "there's nae bannisters. But the stairs are grand underfoot." + +Out I went into the night. The wind was still moaning in the distance, +though never a breath of it came near the house of Shaws. It had fallen +blacker than ever; and I was glad to feel along the wall, till I came +the length of the stairtower door at the far end of the unfinished wing. +I had got the key into the keyhole and had just turned it, when all upon +a sudden, without sound of wind or thunder, the whole sky lighted up +with wild fire and went black again. I had to put my hand over my eyes +to get back to the colour of the darkness; and indeed I was already half +blinded when I stepped into the tower. + +It was so dark inside, it seemed a body could scarce breathe; but I +pushed out with foot and hand, and presently struck the wall with the +one, and the lowermost round of the stair with the other. The wall, by +the touch, was of fine hewn stone; the steps too, though somewhat steep +and narrow, were of polished masonwork, and regular and solid underfoot. +Minding my uncle's word about the bannisters, I kept close to the tower +side, and felt my way in the pitch darkness with a beating heart. + +The house of Shaws stood some five full storeys high, not counting +lofts. Well, as I advanced, it seemed to me the stair grew airier and a +thought more lightsome; and I was wondering what might be the cause of +this change, when a second blink of the summer lightning came and went. +If I did not cry out, it was because fear had me by the throat; and if I +did not fall, it was more by Heaven's mercy than my own strength. It was +not only that the flash shone in on every side through breaches in the +wall, so that I seemed to be clambering aloft upon an open scaffold, but +the same passing brightness showed me the steps were of unequal length, +and that one of my feet rested that moment within two inches of the +well. + +This was the grand stair! I thought; and with the thought, a gust of +a kind of angry courage came into my heart. My uncle had sent me here, +certainly to run great risks, perhaps to die. I swore I would settle +that "perhaps," if I should break my neck for it; got me down upon my +hands and knees; and as slowly as a snail, feeling before me every +inch, and testing the solidity of every stone, I continued to ascend +the stair. The darkness, by contrast with the flash, appeared to have +redoubled; nor was that all, for my ears were now troubled and my mind +confounded by a great stir of bats in the top part of the tower, and the +foul beasts, flying downwards, sometimes beat about my face and body. + +The tower, I should have said, was square; and in every corner the step +was made of a great stone of a different shape to join the flights. +Well, I had come close to one of these turns, when, feeling forward +as usual, my hand slipped upon an edge and found nothing but emptiness +beyond it. The stair had been carried no higher; to set a stranger +mounting it in the darkness was to send him straight to his death; and +(although, thanks to the lightning and my own precautions, I was safe +enough) the mere thought of the peril in which I might have stood, and +the dreadful height I might have fallen from, brought out the sweat upon +my body and relaxed my joints. + +But I knew what I wanted now, and turned and groped my way down again, +with a wonderful anger in my heart. About half-way down, the wind sprang +up in a clap and shook the tower, and died again; the rain followed; and +before I had reached the ground level it fell in buckets. I put out my +head into the storm, and looked along towards the kitchen. The door, +which I had shut behind me when I left, now stood open, and shed a +little glimmer of light; and I thought I could see a figure standing +in the rain, quite still, like a man hearkening. And then there came +a blinding flash, which showed me my uncle plainly, just where I had +fancied him to stand; and hard upon the heels of it, a great tow-row of +thunder. + +Now, whether my uncle thought the crash to be the sound of my fall, or +whether he heard in it God's voice denouncing murder, I will leave you +to guess. Certain it is, at least, that he was seized on by a kind of +panic fear, and that he ran into the house and left the door open behind +him. I followed as softly as I could, and, coming unheard into the +kitchen, stood and watched him. + +He had found time to open the corner cupboard and bring out a great case +bottle of aqua vitae, and now sat with his back towards me at the table. +Ever and again he would be seized with a fit of deadly shuddering and +groan aloud, and carrying the bottle to his lips, drink down the raw +spirits by the mouthful. + +I stepped forward, came close behind him where he sat, and suddenly +clapping my two hands down upon his shoulders--"Ah!" cried I. + +My uncle gave a kind of broken cry like a sheep's bleat, flung up his +arms, and tumbled to the floor like a dead man. I was somewhat shocked +at this; but I had myself to look to first of all, and did not hesitate +to let him lie as he had fallen. The keys were hanging in the cupboard; +and it was my design to furnish myself with arms before my uncle should +come again to his senses and the power of devising evil. In the cupboard +were a few bottles, some apparently of medicine; a great many bills and +other papers, which I should willingly enough have rummaged, had I had +the time; and a few necessaries that were nothing to my purpose. Thence +I turned to the chests. The first was full of meal; the second of +moneybags and papers tied into sheaves; in the third, with many +other things (and these for the most part clothes) I found a rusty, +ugly-looking Highland dirk without the scabbard. This, then, I concealed +inside my waistcoat, and turned to my uncle. + +He lay as he had fallen, all huddled, with one knee up and one arm +sprawling abroad; his face had a strange colour of blue, and he seemed +to have ceased breathing. Fear came on me that he was dead; then I +got water and dashed it in his face; and with that he seemed to come a +little to himself, working his mouth and fluttering his eyelids. At last +he looked up and saw me, and there came into his eyes a terror that was +not of this world. + +"Come, come," said I; "sit up." + +"Are ye alive?" he sobbed. "O man, are ye alive?" + +"That am I," said I. "Small thanks to you!" + +He had begun to seek for his breath with deep sighs. "The blue phial," +said he--"in the aumry--the blue phial." His breath came slower still. + +I ran to the cupboard, and, sure enough, found there a blue phial +of medicine, with the dose written on it on a paper, and this I +administered to him with what speed I might. + +"It's the trouble," said he, reviving a little; "I have a trouble, +Davie. It's the heart." + +I set him on a chair and looked at him. It is true I felt some pity for +a man that looked so sick, but I was full besides of righteous anger; +and I numbered over before him the points on which I wanted explanation: +why he lied to me at every word; why he feared that I should leave him; +why he disliked it to be hinted that he and my father were twins--"Is +that because it is true?" I asked; why he had given me money to which I +was convinced I had no claim; and, last of all, why he had tried to kill +me. He heard me all through in silence; and then, in a broken voice, +begged me to let him go to bed. + +"I'll tell ye the morn," he said; "as sure as death I will." + +And so weak was he that I could do nothing but consent. I locked him +into his room, however, and pocketed the key, and then returning to +the kitchen, made up such a blaze as had not shone there for many a long +year, and wrapping myself in my plaid, lay down upon the chests and fell +asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +I GO TO THE QUEEN'S FERRY + +Much rain fell in the night; and the next morning there blew a bitter +wintry wind out of the north-west, driving scattered clouds. For all +that, and before the sun began to peep or the last of the stars had +vanished, I made my way to the side of the burn, and had a plunge in a +deep whirling pool. All aglow from my bath, I sat down once more +beside the fire, which I replenished, and began gravely to consider my +position. + +There was now no doubt about my uncle's enmity; there was no doubt I +carried my life in my hand, and he would leave no stone unturned that +he might compass my destruction. But I was young and spirited, and +like most lads that have been country-bred, I had a great opinion of my +shrewdness. I had come to his door no better than a beggar and little +more than a child; he had met me with treachery and violence; it would +be a fine consummation to take the upper hand, and drive him like a herd +of sheep. + +I sat there nursing my knee and smiling at the fire; and I saw myself in +fancy smell out his secrets one after another, and grow to be that man's +king and ruler. The warlock of Essendean, they say, had made a mirror in +which men could read the future; it must have been of other stuff than +burning coal; for in all the shapes and pictures that I sat and gazed +at, there was never a ship, never a seaman with a hairy cap, never a big +bludgeon for my silly head, or the least sign of all those tribulations +that were ripe to fall on me. + +Presently, all swollen with conceit, I went up-stairs and gave my +prisoner his liberty. He gave me good-morning civilly; and I gave the +same to him, smiling down upon him, from the heights of my sufficiency. +Soon we were set to breakfast, as it might have been the day before. + +"Well, sir," said I, with a jeering tone, "have you nothing more to say +to me?" And then, as he made no articulate reply, "It will be time, +I think, to understand each other," I continued. "You took me for +a country Johnnie Raw, with no more mother-wit or courage than a +porridge-stick. I took you for a good man, or no worse than others at +the least. It seems we were both wrong. What cause you have to fear me, +to cheat me, and to attempt my life--" + +He murmured something about a jest, and that he liked a bit of fun; and +then, seeing me smile, changed his tone, and assured me he would make +all clear as soon as we had breakfasted. I saw by his face that he had +no lie ready for me, though he was hard at work preparing one; and I +think I was about to tell him so, when we were interrupted by a knocking +at the door. + +Bidding my uncle sit where he was, I went to open it, and found on the +doorstep a half-grown boy in sea-clothes. He had no sooner seen me than +he began to dance some steps of the sea-hornpipe (which I had never +before heard of far less seen), snapping his fingers in the air and +footing it right cleverly. For all that, he was blue with the cold; and +there was something in his face, a look between tears and laughter, that +was highly pathetic and consisted ill with this gaiety of manner. + +"What cheer, mate?" says he, with a cracked voice. + +I asked him soberly to name his pleasure. + +"O, pleasure!" says he; and then began to sing: + + "For it's my delight, of a shiny night, + In the season of the year." + +"Well," said I, "if you have no business at all, I will even be so +unmannerly as to shut you out." + +"Stay, brother!" he cried. "Have you no fun about you? or do you want +to get me thrashed? I've brought a letter from old Heasyoasy to Mr. +Belflower." He showed me a letter as he spoke. "And I say, mate," he +added, "I'm mortal hungry." + +"Well," said I, "come into the house, and you shall have a bite if I go +empty for it." + +With that I brought him in and set him down to my own place, where he +fell-to greedily on the remains of breakfast, winking to me between +whiles, and making many faces, which I think the poor soul considered +manly. Meanwhile, my uncle had read the letter and sat thinking; then, +suddenly, he got to his feet with a great air of liveliness, and pulled +me apart into the farthest corner of the room. + +"Read that," said he, and put the letter in my hand. + +Here it is, lying before me as I write: + +"The Hawes Inn, at the Queen's Ferry. + +"Sir,--I lie here with my hawser up and down, and send my cabin-boy to +informe. If you have any further commands for over-seas, to-day will be +the last occasion, as the wind will serve us well out of the firth. +I will not seek to deny that I have had crosses with your doer,* Mr. +Rankeillor; of which, if not speedily redd up, you may looke to see some +losses follow. I have drawn a bill upon you, as per margin, and am, sir, + your most obedt., humble servant, "ELIAS HOSEASON."* Agent. + +"You see, Davie," resumed my uncle, as soon as he saw that I had done, +"I have a venture with this man Hoseason, the captain of a trading brig, +the Covenant, of Dysart. Now, if you and me was to walk over with +yon lad, I could see the captain at the Hawes, or maybe on board the +Covenant if there was papers to be signed; and so far from a loss of +time, we can jog on to the lawyer, Mr. Rankeillor's. After a' that's +come and gone, ye would be swier* to believe me upon my naked word; but +ye'll believe Rankeillor. He's factor to half the gentry in these parts; +an auld man, forby: highly respeckit, and he kenned your father." + + * Unwilling. + +I stood awhile and thought. I was going to some place of shipping, which +was doubtless populous, and where my uncle durst attempt no violence, +and, indeed, even the society of the cabin-boy so far protected me. Once +there, I believed I could force on the visit to the lawyer, even if my +uncle were now insincere in proposing it; and, perhaps, in the bottom +of my heart, I wished a nearer view of the sea and ships. You are to +remember I had lived all my life in the inland hills, and just two days +before had my first sight of the firth lying like a blue floor, and the +sailed ships moving on the face of it, no bigger than toys. One thing +with another, I made up my mind. + +"Very well," says I, "let us go to the Ferry." + +My uncle got into his hat and coat, and buckled an old rusty cutlass on; +and then we trod the fire out, locked the door, and set forth upon our +walk. + +The wind, being in that cold quarter the north-west, blew nearly in our +faces as we went. It was the month of June; the grass was all white with +daisies, and the trees with blossom; but, to judge by our blue nails +and aching wrists, the time might have been winter and the whiteness a +December frost. + +Uncle Ebenezer trudged in the ditch, jogging from side to side like an +old ploughman coming home from work. He never said a word the whole +way; and I was thrown for talk on the cabin-boy. He told me his name was +Ransome, and that he had followed the sea since he was nine, but could +not say how old he was, as he had lost his reckoning. He showed me +tattoo marks, baring his breast in the teeth of the wind and in spite +of my remonstrances, for I thought it was enough to kill him; he swore +horribly whenever he remembered, but more like a silly schoolboy than a +man; and boasted of many wild and bad things that he had done: stealthy +thefts, false accusations, ay, and even murder; but all with such a +dearth of likelihood in the details, and such a weak and crazy swagger +in the delivery, as disposed me rather to pity than to believe him. + +I asked him of the brig (which he declared was the finest ship that +sailed) and of Captain Hoseason, in whose praises he was equally loud. +Heasyoasy (for so he still named the skipper) was a man, by his account, +that minded for nothing either in heaven or earth; one that, as people +said, would "crack on all sail into the day of judgment;" rough, fierce, +unscrupulous, and brutal; and all this my poor cabin-boy had taught +himself to admire as something seamanlike and manly. He would only admit +one flaw in his idol. "He ain't no seaman," he admitted. "That's Mr. +Shuan that navigates the brig; he's the finest seaman in the trade, only +for drink; and I tell you I believe it! Why, look'ere;" and turning down +his stocking he showed me a great, raw, red wound that made my blood run +cold. "He done that--Mr. Shuan done it," he said, with an air of pride. + +"What!" I cried, "do you take such savage usage at his hands? Why, you +are no slave, to be so handled!" + +"No," said the poor moon-calf, changing his tune at once, "and so he'll +find. See'ere;" and he showed me a great case-knife, which he told me +was stolen. "O," says he, "let me see him try; I dare him to; I'll do +for him! O, he ain't the first!" And he confirmed it with a poor, silly, +ugly oath. + +I have never felt such pity for any one in this wide world as I felt for +that half-witted creature, and it began to come over me that the brig +Covenant (for all her pious name) was little better than a hell upon the +seas. + +"Have you no friends?" said I. + +He said he had a father in some English seaport, I forget which. + +"He was a fine man, too," he said, "but he's dead." + +"In Heaven's name," cried I, "can you find no reputable life on shore?" + +"O, no," says he, winking and looking very sly, "they would put me to a +trade. I know a trick worth two of that, I do!" + +I asked him what trade could be so dreadful as the one he followed, +where he ran the continual peril of his life, not alone from wind and +sea, but by the horrid cruelty of those who were his masters. He said +it was very true; and then began to praise the life, and tell what a +pleasure it was to get on shore with money in his pocket, and spend it +like a man, and buy apples, and swagger, and surprise what he called +stick-in-the-mud boys. "And then it's not all as bad as that," says he; +"there's worse off than me: there's the twenty-pounders. O, laws! +you should see them taking on. Why, I've seen a man as old as you, I +dessay"--(to him I seemed old)--"ah, and he had a beard, too--well, and +as soon as we cleared out of the river, and he had the drug out of his +head--my! how he cried and carried on! I made a fine fool of him, I tell +you! And then there's little uns, too: oh, little by me! I tell you, I +keep them in order. When we carry little uns, I have a rope's end of +my own to wollop'em." And so he ran on, until it came in on me what +he meant by twenty-pounders were those unhappy criminals who were +sent over-seas to slavery in North America, or the still more unhappy +innocents who were kidnapped or trepanned (as the word went) for private +interest or vengeance. + +Just then we came to the top of the hill, and looked down on the Ferry +and the Hope. The Firth of Forth (as is very well known) narrows at this +point to the width of a good-sized river, which makes a convenient ferry +going north, and turns the upper reach into a landlocked haven for all +manner of ships. Right in the midst of the narrows lies an islet with +some ruins; on the south shore they have built a pier for the service +of the Ferry; and at the end of the pier, on the other side of the road, +and backed against a pretty garden of holly-trees and hawthorns, I could +see the building which they called the Hawes Inn. + +The town of Queensferry lies farther west, and the neighbourhood of the +inn looked pretty lonely at that time of day, for the boat had just gone +north with passengers. A skiff, however, lay beside the pier, with some +seamen sleeping on the thwarts; this, as Ransome told me, was the brig's +boat waiting for the captain; and about half a mile off, and all +alone in the anchorage, he showed me the Covenant herself. There was a +sea-going bustle on board; yards were swinging into place; and as the +wind blew from that quarter, I could hear the song of the sailors as +they pulled upon the ropes. After all I had listened to upon the way, I +looked at that ship with an extreme abhorrence; and from the bottom of +my heart I pitied all poor souls that were condemned to sail in her. + +We had all three pulled up on the brow of the hill; and now I marched +across the road and addressed my uncle. "I think it right to tell +you, sir," says I, "there's nothing that will bring me on board that +Covenant." + +He seemed to waken from a dream. "Eh?" he said. "What's that?" + +I told him over again. + +"Well, well," he said, "we'll have to please ye, I suppose. But what +are we standing here for? It's perishing cold; and if I'm no mistaken, +they're busking the Covenant for sea." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN'S FERRY + +As soon as we came to the inn, Ransome led us up the stair to a small +room, with a bed in it, and heated like an oven by a great fire of coal. +At a table hard by the chimney, a tall, dark, sober-looking man sat +writing. In spite of the heat of the room, he wore a thick sea-jacket, +buttoned to the neck, and a tall hairy cap drawn down over his ears; yet +I never saw any man, not even a judge upon the bench, look cooler, or +more studious and self-possessed, than this ship-captain. + +He got to his feet at once, and coming forward, offered his large hand +to Ebenezer. "I am proud to see you, Mr. Balfour," said he, in a fine +deep voice, "and glad that ye are here in time. The wind's fair, and the +tide upon the turn; we'll see the old coal-bucket burning on the Isle of +May before to-night." + +"Captain Hoseason," returned my uncle, "you keep your room unco hot." + +"It's a habit I have, Mr. Balfour," said the skipper. "I'm a cold-rife +man by my nature; I have a cold blood, sir. There's neither fur, +nor flannel--no, sir, nor hot rum, will warm up what they call +the temperature. Sir, it's the same with most men that have been +carbonadoed, as they call it, in the tropic seas." + +"Well, well, captain," replied my uncle, "we must all be the way we're +made." + +But it chanced that this fancy of the captain's had a great share in my +misfortunes. For though I had promised myself not to let my kinsman out +of sight, I was both so impatient for a nearer look of the sea, and +so sickened by the closeness of the room, that when he told me to "run +down-stairs and play myself awhile," I was fool enough to take him at +his word. + +Away I went, therefore, leaving the two men sitting down to a bottle +and a great mass of papers; and crossing the road in front of the inn, +walked down upon the beach. With the wind in that quarter, only little +wavelets, not much bigger than I had seen upon a lake, beat upon the +shore. But the weeds were new to me--some green, some brown and long, +and some with little bladders that crackled between my fingers. Even so +far up the firth, the smell of the sea-water was exceedingly salt and +stirring; the Covenant, besides, was beginning to shake out her sails, +which hung upon the yards in clusters; and the spirit of all that I +beheld put me in thoughts of far voyages and foreign places. + +I looked, too, at the seamen with the skiff--big brown fellows, some in +shirts, some with jackets, some with coloured handkerchiefs about their +throats, one with a brace of pistols stuck into his pockets, two or +three with knotty bludgeons, and all with their case-knives. I passed +the time of day with one that looked less desperate than his fellows, +and asked him of the sailing of the brig. He said they would get under +way as soon as the ebb set, and expressed his gladness to be out of +a port where there were no taverns and fiddlers; but all with such +horrifying oaths, that I made haste to get away from him. + +This threw me back on Ransome, who seemed the least wicked of that gang, +and who soon came out of the inn and ran to me, crying for a bowl of +punch. I told him I would give him no such thing, for neither he nor I +was of an age for such indulgences. "But a glass of ale you may have, +and welcome," said I. He mopped and mowed at me, and called me names; +but he was glad to get the ale, for all that; and presently we were +set down at a table in the front room of the inn, and both eating and +drinking with a good appetite. + +Here it occurred to me that, as the landlord was a man of that county, +I might do well to make a friend of him. I offered him a share, as was +much the custom in those days; but he was far too great a man to sit +with such poor customers as Ransome and myself, and he was leaving the +room, when I called him back to ask if he knew Mr. Rankeillor. + +"Hoot, ay," says he, "and a very honest man. And, O, by-the-by," says +he, "was it you that came in with Ebenezer?" And when I had told him +yes, "Ye'll be no friend of his?" he asked, meaning, in the Scottish +way, that I would be no relative. + +I told him no, none. + +"I thought not," said he, "and yet ye have a kind of gliff* of Mr. +Alexander." + + * Look. + +I said it seemed that Ebenezer was ill-seen in the country. + +"Nae doubt," said the landlord. "He's a wicked auld man, and there's +many would like to see him girning in the tow*. Jennet Clouston and mony +mair that he has harried out of house and hame. And yet he was ance +a fine young fellow, too. But that was before the sough** gaed abroad +about Mr. Alexander, that was like the death of him." + + * Rope. + + ** Report. + +"And what was it?" I asked. + +"Ou, just that he had killed him," said the landlord. "Did ye never hear +that?" + +"And what would he kill him for?" said I. + +"And what for, but just to get the place," said he. + +"The place?" said I. "The Shaws?" + +"Nae other place that I ken," said he. + +"Ay, man?" said I. "Is that so? Was my--was Alexander the eldest son?" + +"'Deed was he," said the landlord. "What else would he have killed him +for?" + +And with that he went away, as he had been impatient to do from the +beginning. + +Of course, I had guessed it a long while ago; but it is one thing to +guess, another to know; and I sat stunned with my good fortune, and +could scarce grow to believe that the same poor lad who had trudged in +the dust from Ettrick Forest not two days ago, was now one of the rich +of the earth, and had a house and broad lands, and might mount his horse +tomorrow. All these pleasant things, and a thousand others, crowded into +my mind, as I sat staring before me out of the inn window, and paying +no heed to what I saw; only I remember that my eye lighted on Captain +Hoseason down on the pier among his seamen, and speaking with some +authority. And presently he came marching back towards the house, with +no mark of a sailor's clumsiness, but carrying his fine, tall figure +with a manly bearing, and still with the same sober, grave expression on +his face. I wondered if it was possible that Ransome's stories could +be true, and half disbelieved them; they fitted so ill with the man's +looks. But indeed, he was neither so good as I supposed him, nor quite +so bad as Ransome did; for, in fact, he was two men, and left the better +one behind as soon as he set foot on board his vessel. + +The next thing, I heard my uncle calling me, and found the pair in the +road together. It was the captain who addressed me, and that with an air +(very flattering to a young lad) of grave equality. + +"Sir," said he, "Mr. Balfour tells me great things of you; and for my +own part, I like your looks. I wish I was for longer here, that we might +make the better friends; but we'll make the most of what we have. Ye +shall come on board my brig for half an hour, till the ebb sets, and +drink a bowl with me." + +Now, I longed to see the inside of a ship more than words can tell; but +I was not going to put myself in jeopardy, and I told him my uncle and I +had an appointment with a lawyer. + +"Ay, ay," said he, "he passed me word of that. But, ye see, the boat'll +set ye ashore at the town pier, and that's but a penny stonecast from +Rankeillor's house." And here he suddenly leaned down and whispered in +my ear: "Take care of the old tod;* he means mischief. Come aboard till +I can get a word with ye." And then, passing his arm through mine, he +continued aloud, as he set off towards his boat: "But, come, what can I +bring ye from the Carolinas? Any friend of Mr. Balfour's can command. +A roll of tobacco? Indian feather-work? a skin of a wild beast? a stone +pipe? the mocking-bird that mews for all the world like a cat? the +cardinal bird that is as red as blood?--take your pick and say your +pleasure." + + * Fox. + +By this time we were at the boat-side, and he was handing me in. I did +not dream of hanging back; I thought (the poor fool!) that I had found +a good friend and helper, and I was rejoiced to see the ship. As soon as +we were all set in our places, the boat was thrust off from the pier +and began to move over the waters: and what with my pleasure in this new +movement and my surprise at our low position, and the appearance of the +shores, and the growing bigness of the brig as we drew near to it, I +could hardly understand what the captain said, and must have answered +him at random. + +As soon as we were alongside (where I sat fairly gaping at the ship's +height, the strong humming of the tide against its sides, and the +pleasant cries of the seamen at their work) Hoseason, declaring that he +and I must be the first aboard, ordered a tackle to be sent down from +the main-yard. In this I was whipped into the air and set down again on +the deck, where the captain stood ready waiting for me, and instantly +slipped back his arm under mine. There I stood some while, a little +dizzy with the unsteadiness of all around me, perhaps a little afraid, +and yet vastly pleased with these strange sights; the captain meanwhile +pointing out the strangest, and telling me their names and uses. + +"But where is my uncle?" said I suddenly. + +"Ay," said Hoseason, with a sudden grimness, "that's the point." + +I felt I was lost. With all my strength, I plucked myself clear of him +and ran to the bulwarks. Sure enough, there was the boat pulling for the +town, with my uncle sitting in the stern. I gave a piercing cry--"Help, +help! Murder!"--so that both sides of the anchorage rang with it, and +my uncle turned round where he was sitting, and showed me a face full of +cruelty and terror. + +It was the last I saw. Already strong hands had been plucking me back +from the ship's side; and now a thunderbolt seemed to strike me; I saw a +great flash of fire, and fell senseless. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG "COVENANT" OF DYSART + +I came to myself in darkness, in great pain, bound hand and foot, and +deafened by many unfamiliar noises. There sounded in my ears a roaring +of water as of a huge mill-dam, the thrashing of heavy sprays, the +thundering of the sails, and the shrill cries of seamen. The whole world +now heaved giddily up, and now rushed giddily downward; and so sick and +hurt was I in body, and my mind so much confounded, that it took me a +long while, chasing my thoughts up and down, and ever stunned again by +a fresh stab of pain, to realise that I must be lying somewhere bound in +the belly of that unlucky ship, and that the wind must have strengthened +to a gale. With the clear perception of my plight, there fell upon me a +blackness of despair, a horror of remorse at my own folly, and a passion +of anger at my uncle, that once more bereft me of my senses. + +When I returned again to life, the same uproar, the same confused and +violent movements, shook and deafened me; and presently, to my other +pains and distresses, there was added the sickness of an unused landsman +on the sea. In that time of my adventurous youth, I suffered many +hardships; but none that was so crushing to my mind and body, or lit by +so few hopes, as these first hours aboard the brig. + +I heard a gun fire, and supposed the storm had proved too strong for us, +and we were firing signals of distress. The thought of deliverance, even +by death in the deep sea, was welcome to me. Yet it was no such matter; +but (as I was afterwards told) a common habit of the captain's, which +I here set down to show that even the worst man may have his kindlier +side. We were then passing, it appeared, within some miles of Dysart, +where the brig was built, and where old Mrs. Hoseason, the captain's +mother, had come some years before to live; and whether outward or +inward bound, the Covenant was never suffered to go by that place by +day, without a gun fired and colours shown. + +I had no measure of time; day and night were alike in that ill-smelling +cavern of the ship's bowels where I lay; and the misery of my situation +drew out the hours to double. How long, therefore, I lay waiting to hear +the ship split upon some rock, or to feel her reel head foremost into +the depths of the sea, I have not the means of computation. But sleep at +length stole from me the consciousness of sorrow. + +I was awakened by the light of a hand-lantern shining in my face. A +small man of about thirty, with green eyes and a tangle of fair hair, +stood looking down at me. + +"Well," said he, "how goes it?" + +I answered by a sob; and my visitor then felt my pulse and temples, and +set himself to wash and dress the wound upon my scalp. + +"Ay," said he, "a sore dunt*. What, man? Cheer up! The world's no done; +you've made a bad start of it but you'll make a better. Have you had any +meat?" + + * Stroke. + +I said I could not look at it: and thereupon he gave me some brandy and +water in a tin pannikin, and left me once more to myself. + +The next time he came to see me, I was lying betwixt sleep and waking, +my eyes wide open in the darkness, the sickness quite departed, but +succeeded by a horrid giddiness and swimming that was almost worse +to bear. I ached, besides, in every limb, and the cords that bound me +seemed to be of fire. The smell of the hole in which I lay seemed to +have become a part of me; and during the long interval since his last +visit I had suffered tortures of fear, now from the scurrying of the +ship's rats, that sometimes pattered on my very face, and now from the +dismal imaginings that haunt the bed of fever. + +The glimmer of the lantern, as a trap opened, shone in like the heaven's +sunlight; and though it only showed me the strong, dark beams of the +ship that was my prison, I could have cried aloud for gladness. The man +with the green eyes was the first to descend the ladder, and I noticed +that he came somewhat unsteadily. He was followed by the captain. +Neither said a word; but the first set to and examined me, and dressed +my wound as before, while Hoseason looked me in my face with an odd, +black look. + +"Now, sir, you see for yourself," said the first: "a high fever, no +appetite, no light, no meat: you see for yourself what that means." + +"I am no conjurer, Mr. Riach," said the captain. + +"Give me leave, sir," said Riach; "you've a good head upon your +shoulders, and a good Scotch tongue to ask with; but I will leave you no +manner of excuse; I want that boy taken out of this hole and put in the +forecastle." + +"What ye may want, sir, is a matter of concern to nobody but yoursel'," +returned the captain; "but I can tell ye that which is to be. Here he +is; here he shall bide." + +"Admitting that you have been paid in a proportion," said the other, "I +will crave leave humbly to say that I have not. Paid I am, and none too +much, to be the second officer of this old tub, and you ken very well if +I do my best to earn it. But I was paid for nothing more." + +"If ye could hold back your hand from the tin-pan, Mr. Riach, I would +have no complaint to make of ye," returned the skipper; "and instead +of asking riddles, I make bold to say that ye would keep your breath to +cool your porridge. We'll be required on deck," he added, in a sharper +note, and set one foot upon the ladder. + +But Mr. Riach caught him by the sleeve. + +"Admitting that you have been paid to do a murder----" he began. + +Hoseason turned upon him with a flash. + +"What's that?" he cried. "What kind of talk is that?" + +"It seems it is the talk that you can understand," said Mr. Riach, +looking him steadily in the face. + +"Mr. Riach, I have sailed with ye three cruises," replied the captain. +"In all that time, sir, ye should have learned to know me: I'm a stiff +man, and a dour man; but for what ye say the now--fie, fie!--it comes +from a bad heart and a black conscience. If ye say the lad will die----" + +"Ay, will he!" said Mr. Riach. + +"Well, sir, is not that enough?" said Hoseason. "Flit him where ye +please!" + +Thereupon the captain ascended the ladder; and I, who had lain silent +throughout this strange conversation, beheld Mr. Riach turn after him +and bow as low as to his knees in what was plainly a spirit of derision. +Even in my then state of sickness, I perceived two things: that the +mate was touched with liquor, as the captain hinted, and that (drunk or +sober) he was like to prove a valuable friend. + +Five minutes afterwards my bonds were cut, I was hoisted on a man's +back, carried up to the forecastle, and laid in a bunk on some +sea-blankets; where the first thing that I did was to lose my senses. + +It was a blessed thing indeed to open my eyes again upon the daylight, +and to find myself in the society of men. The forecastle was a roomy +place enough, set all about with berths, in which the men of the watch +below were seated smoking, or lying down asleep. The day being calm and +the wind fair, the scuttle was open, and not only the good daylight, but +from time to time (as the ship rolled) a dusty beam of sunlight shone +in, and dazzled and delighted me. I had no sooner moved, moreover, than +one of the men brought me a drink of something healing which Mr. Riach +had prepared, and bade me lie still and I should soon be well again. +There were no bones broken, he explained: "A clour* on the head was +naething. Man," said he, "it was me that gave it ye!" + + * Blow. + +Here I lay for the space of many days a close prisoner, and not only got +my health again, but came to know my companions. They were a rough lot +indeed, as sailors mostly are: being men rooted out of all the kindly +parts of life, and condemned to toss together on the rough seas, with +masters no less cruel. There were some among them that had sailed with +the pirates and seen things it would be a shame even to speak of; some +were men that had run from the king's ships, and went with a halter +round their necks, of which they made no secret; and all, as the saying +goes, were "at a word and a blow" with their best friends. Yet I had +not been many days shut up with them before I began to be ashamed of my +first judgment, when I had drawn away from them at the Ferry pier, as +though they had been unclean beasts. No class of man is altogether bad, +but each has its own faults and virtues; and these shipmates of mine +were no exception to the rule. Rough they were, sure enough; and bad, I +suppose; but they had many virtues. They were kind when it occurred to +them, simple even beyond the simplicity of a country lad like me, and +had some glimmerings of honesty. + +There was one man, of maybe forty, that would sit on my berthside for +hours and tell me of his wife and child. He was a fisher that had lost +his boat, and thus been driven to the deep-sea voyaging. Well, it is +years ago now: but I have never forgotten him. His wife (who was "young +by him," as he often told me) waited in vain to see her man return; he +would never again make the fire for her in the morning, nor yet keep +the bairn when she was sick. Indeed, many of these poor fellows (as the +event proved) were upon their last cruise; the deep seas and cannibal +fish received them; and it is a thankless business to speak ill of the +dead. + +Among other good deeds that they did, they returned my money, which had +been shared among them; and though it was about a third short, I was +very glad to get it, and hoped great good from it in the land I was +going to. The ship was bound for the Carolinas; and you must not suppose +that I was going to that place merely as an exile. The trade was even +then much depressed; since that, and with the rebellion of the colonies +and the formation of the United States, it has, of course, come to +an end; but in those days of my youth, white men were still sold into +slavery on the plantations, and that was the destiny to which my wicked +uncle had condemned me. + +The cabin-boy Ransome (from whom I had first heard of these atrocities) +came in at times from the round-house, where he berthed and served, now +nursing a bruised limb in silent agony, now raving against the cruelty +of Mr. Shuan. It made my heart bleed; but the men had a great respect +for the chief mate, who was, as they said, "the only seaman of the whole +jing-bang, and none such a bad man when he was sober." Indeed, I found +there was a strange peculiarity about our two mates: that Mr. Riach was +sullen, unkind, and harsh when he was sober, and Mr. Shuan would not +hurt a fly except when he was drinking. I asked about the captain; but I +was told drink made no difference upon that man of iron. + +I did my best in the small time allowed me to make some thing like a +man, or rather I should say something like a boy, of the poor creature, +Ransome. But his mind was scarce truly human. He could remember nothing +of the time before he came to sea; only that his father had made clocks, +and had a starling in the parlour, which could whistle "The North +Countrie;" all else had been blotted out in these years of hardship +and cruelties. He had a strange notion of the dry land, picked up from +sailor's stories: that it was a place where lads were put to some kind +of slavery called a trade, and where apprentices were continually lashed +and clapped into foul prisons. In a town, he thought every second person +a decoy, and every third house a place in which seamen would be drugged +and murdered. To be sure, I would tell him how kindly I had myself been +used upon that dry land he was so much afraid of, and how well fed and +carefully taught both by my friends and my parents: and if he had been +recently hurt, he would weep bitterly and swear to run away; but if +he was in his usual crackbrain humour, or (still more) if he had had a +glass of spirits in the roundhouse, he would deride the notion. + +It was Mr. Riach (Heaven forgive him!) who gave the boy drink; and +it was, doubtless, kindly meant; but besides that it was ruin to his +health, it was the pitifullest thing in life to see this unhappy, +unfriended creature staggering, and dancing, and talking he knew not +what. Some of the men laughed, but not all; others would grow as black +as thunder (thinking, perhaps, of their own childhood or their own +children) and bid him stop that nonsense, and think what he was doing. +As for me, I felt ashamed to look at him, and the poor child still comes +about me in my dreams. + +All this time, you should know, the Covenant was meeting continual +head-winds and tumbling up and down against head-seas, so that the +scuttle was almost constantly shut, and the forecastle lighted only by a +swinging lantern on a beam. There was constant labour for all hands; the +sails had to be made and shortened every hour; the strain told on the +men's temper; there was a growl of quarrelling all day long from berth +to berth; and as I was never allowed to set my foot on deck, you +can picture to yourselves how weary of my life I grew to be, and how +impatient for a change. + +And a change I was to get, as you shall hear; but I must first tell of +a conversation I had with Mr. Riach, which put a little heart in me to +bear my troubles. Getting him in a favourable stage of drink (for indeed +he never looked near me when he was sober), I pledged him to secrecy, +and told him my whole story. + +He declared it was like a ballad; that he would do his best to help +me; that I should have paper, pen, and ink, and write one line to Mr. +Campbell and another to Mr. Rankeillor; and that if I had told the +truth, ten to one he would be able (with their help) to pull me through +and set me in my rights. + +"And in the meantime," says he, "keep your heart up. You're not the only +one, I'll tell you that. There's many a man hoeing tobacco over-seas +that should be mounting his horse at his own door at home; many and +many! And life is all a variorum, at the best. Look at me: I'm a laird's +son and more than half a doctor, and here I am, man-Jack to Hoseason!" + +I thought it would be civil to ask him for his story. + +He whistled loud. + +"Never had one," said he. "I like fun, that's all." And he skipped out +of the forecastle. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE ROUND-HOUSE + +One night, about eleven o'clock, a man of Mr. Riach's watch (which was +on deck) came below for his jacket; and instantly there began to go +a whisper about the forecastle that "Shuan had done for him at last." +There was no need of a name; we all knew who was meant; but we had +scarce time to get the idea rightly in our heads, far less to speak of +it, when the scuttle was again flung open, and Captain Hoseason came +down the ladder. He looked sharply round the bunks in the tossing light +of the lantern; and then, walking straight up to me, he addressed me, to +my surprise, in tones of kindness. + +"My man," said he, "we want ye to serve in the round-house. You and +Ransome are to change berths. Run away aft with ye." + +Even as he spoke, two seamen appeared in the scuttle, carrying Ransome +in their arms; and the ship at that moment giving a great sheer into the +sea, and the lantern swinging, the light fell direct on the boy's face. +It was as white as wax, and had a look upon it like a dreadful smile. +The blood in me ran cold, and I drew in my breath as if I had been +struck. + +"Run away aft; run away aft with ye!" cried Hoseason. + +And at that I brushed by the sailors and the boy (who neither spoke nor +moved), and ran up the ladder on deck. + +The brig was sheering swiftly and giddily through a long, cresting +swell. She was on the starboard tack, and on the left hand, under the +arched foot of the foresail, I could see the sunset still quite bright. +This, at such an hour of the night, surprised me greatly; but I was too +ignorant to draw the true conclusion--that we were going north-about +round Scotland, and were now on the high sea between the Orkney and +Shetland Islands, having avoided the dangerous currents of the Pentland +Firth. For my part, who had been so long shut in the dark and knew +nothing of head-winds, I thought we might be half-way or more across the +Atlantic. And indeed (beyond that I wondered a little at the lateness of +the sunset light) I gave no heed to it, and pushed on across the decks, +running between the seas, catching at ropes, and only saved from going +overboard by one of the hands on deck, who had been always kind to me. + +The round-house, for which I was bound, and where I was now to sleep and +serve, stood some six feet above the decks, and considering the size of +the brig, was of good dimensions. Inside were a fixed table and bench, +and two berths, one for the captain and the other for the two mates, +turn and turn about. It was all fitted with lockers from top to bottom, +so as to stow away the officers' belongings and a part of the ship's +stores; there was a second store-room underneath, which you entered by a +hatchway in the middle of the deck; indeed, all the best of the meat and +drink and the whole of the powder were collected in this place; and all +the firearms, except the two pieces of brass ordnance, were set in a +rack in the aftermost wall of the round-house. The most of the cutlasses +were in another place. + +A small window with a shutter on each side, and a skylight in the roof, +gave it light by day; and after dark there was a lamp always burning. +It was burning when I entered, not brightly, but enough to show Mr. +Shuan sitting at the table, with the brandy bottle and a tin pannikin +in front of him. He was a tall man, strongly made and very black; and he +stared before him on the table like one stupid. + +He took no notice of my coming in; nor did he move when the captain +followed and leant on the berth beside me, looking darkly at the mate. +I stood in great fear of Hoseason, and had my reasons for it; but +something told me I need not be afraid of him just then; and I whispered +in his ear: "How is he?" He shook his head like one that does not know +and does not wish to think, and his face was very stern. + +Presently Mr. Riach came in. He gave the captain a glance that meant the +boy was dead as plain as speaking, and took his place like the rest +of us; so that we all three stood without a word, staring down at Mr. +Shuan, and Mr. Shuan (on his side) sat without a word, looking hard upon +the table. + +All of a sudden he put out his hand to take the bottle; and at that Mr. +Riach started forward and caught it away from him, rather by surprise +than violence, crying out, with an oath, that there had been too much of +this work altogether, and that a judgment would fall upon the ship. +And as he spoke (the weather sliding-doors standing open) he tossed the +bottle into the sea. + +Mr. Shuan was on his feet in a trice; he still looked dazed, but he +meant murder, ay, and would have done it, for the second time that +night, had not the captain stepped in between him and his victim. + +"Sit down!" roars the captain. "Ye sot and swine, do ye know what ye've +done? Ye've murdered the boy!" + +Mr. Shuan seemed to understand; for he sat down again, and put up his +hand to his brow. + +"Well," he said, "he brought me a dirty pannikin!" + +At that word, the captain and I and Mr. Riach all looked at each other +for a second with a kind of frightened look; and then Hoseason walked +up to his chief officer, took him by the shoulder, led him across to his +bunk, and bade him lie down and go to sleep, as you might speak to a bad +child. The murderer cried a little, but he took off his sea-boots and +obeyed. + +"Ah!" cried Mr. Riach, with a dreadful voice, "ye should have interfered +long syne. It's too late now." + +"Mr. Riach," said the captain, "this night's work must never be kennt +in Dysart. The boy went overboard, sir; that's what the story is; and I +would give five pounds out of my pocket it was true!" He turned to the +table. "What made ye throw the good bottle away?" he added. "There was +nae sense in that, sir. Here, David, draw me another. They're in the +bottom locker;" and he tossed me a key. "Ye'll need a glass yourself, +sir," he added to Riach. "Yon was an ugly thing to see." + +So the pair sat down and hob-a-nobbed; and while they did so, the +murderer, who had been lying and whimpering in his berth, raised himself +upon his elbow and looked at them and at me. + +That was the first night of my new duties; and in the course of the next +day I had got well into the run of them. I had to serve at the meals, +which the captain took at regular hours, sitting down with the officer +who was off duty; all the day through I would be running with a dram +to one or other of my three masters; and at night I slept on a blanket +thrown on the deck boards at the aftermost end of the round-house, and +right in the draught of the two doors. It was a hard and a cold bed; +nor was I suffered to sleep without interruption; for some one would be +always coming in from deck to get a dram, and when a fresh watch was +to be set, two and sometimes all three would sit down and brew a bowl +together. How they kept their health, I know not, any more than how I +kept my own. + +And yet in other ways it was an easy service. There was no cloth to lay; +the meals were either of oatmeal porridge or salt junk, except twice a +week, when there was duff: and though I was clumsy enough and (not being +firm on my sealegs) sometimes fell with what I was bringing them, both +Mr. Riach and the captain were singularly patient. I could not but fancy +they were making up lee-way with their consciences, and that they +would scarce have been so good with me if they had not been worse with +Ransome. + +As for Mr. Shuan, the drink or his crime, or the two together, had +certainly troubled his mind. I cannot say I ever saw him in his proper +wits. He never grew used to my being there, stared at me continually +(sometimes, I could have thought, with terror), and more than once drew +back from my hand when I was serving him. I was pretty sure from the +first that he had no clear mind of what he had done, and on my second +day in the round-house I had the proof of it. We were alone, and he had +been staring at me a long time, when all at once, up he got, as pale as +death, and came close up to me, to my great terror. But I had no cause +to be afraid of him. + +"You were not here before?" he asked. + +"No, sir," said I." + +"There was another boy?" he asked again; and when I had answered him, +"Ah!" says he, "I thought that," and went and sat down, without another +word, except to call for brandy. + +You may think it strange, but for all the horror I had, I was still +sorry for him. He was a married man, with a wife in Leith; but whether +or no he had a family, I have now forgotten; I hope not. + +Altogether it was no very hard life for the time it lasted, which (as +you are to hear) was not long. I was as well fed as the best of them; +even their pickles, which were the great dainty, I was allowed my share +of; and had I liked I might have been drunk from morning to night, like +Mr. Shuan. I had company, too, and good company of its sort. Mr. Riach, +who had been to the college, spoke to me like a friend when he was not +sulking, and told me many curious things, and some that were informing; +and even the captain, though he kept me at the stick's end the most part +of the time, would sometimes unbuckle a bit, and tell me of the fine +countries he had visited. + +The shadow of poor Ransome, to be sure, lay on all four of us, and on +me and Mr. Shuan in particular, most heavily. And then I had another +trouble of my own. Here I was, doing dirty work for three men that I +looked down upon, and one of whom, at least, should have hung upon a +gallows; that was for the present; and as for the future, I could only +see myself slaving alongside of negroes in the tobacco fields. Mr. +Riach, perhaps from caution, would never suffer me to say another word +about my story; the captain, whom I tried to approach, rebuffed me like +a dog and would not hear a word; and as the days came and went, my heart +sank lower and lower, till I was even glad of the work which kept me +from thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD + +More than a week went by, in which the ill-luck that had hitherto +pursued the Covenant upon this voyage grew yet more strongly marked. +Some days she made a little way; others, she was driven actually back. +At last we were beaten so far to the south that we tossed and tacked to +and fro the whole of the ninth day, within sight of Cape Wrath and the +wild, rocky coast on either hand of it. There followed on that a council +of the officers, and some decision which I did not rightly understand, +seeing only the result: that we had made a fair wind of a foul one and +were running south. + +The tenth afternoon there was a falling swell and a thick, wet, white +fog that hid one end of the brig from the other. All afternoon, when +I went on deck, I saw men and officers listening hard over the +bulwarks--"for breakers," they said; and though I did not so much as +understand the word, I felt danger in the air, and was excited. + +Maybe about ten at night, I was serving Mr. Riach and the captain at +their supper, when the ship struck something with a great sound, and we +heard voices singing out. My two masters leaped to their feet. + +"She's struck!" said Mr. Riach. + +"No, sir," said the captain. "We've only run a boat down." + +And they hurried out. + +The captain was in the right of it. We had run down a boat in the fog, +and she had parted in the midst and gone to the bottom with all her crew +but one. This man (as I heard afterwards) had been sitting in the stern +as a passenger, while the rest were on the benches rowing. At the moment +of the blow, the stern had been thrown into the air, and the man (having +his hands free, and for all he was encumbered with a frieze overcoat +that came below his knees) had leaped up and caught hold of the brig's +bowsprit. It showed he had luck and much agility and unusual strength, +that he should have thus saved himself from such a pass. And yet, when +the captain brought him into the round-house, and I set eyes on him for +the first time, he looked as cool as I did. + +He was smallish in stature, but well set and as nimble as a goat; his +face was of a good open expression, but sunburnt very dark, and heavily +freckled and pitted with the small-pox; his eyes were unusually light +and had a kind of dancing madness in them, that was both engaging and +alarming; and when he took off his great-coat, he laid a pair of fine +silver-mounted pistols on the table, and I saw that he was belted with +a great sword. His manners, besides, were elegant, and he pledged the +captain handsomely. Altogether I thought of him, at the first sight, +that here was a man I would rather call my friend than my enemy. + +The captain, too, was taking his observations, but rather of the man's +clothes than his person. And to be sure, as soon as he had taken off +the great-coat, he showed forth mighty fine for the round-house of a +merchant brig: having a hat with feathers, a red waistcoat, breeches +of black plush, and a blue coat with silver buttons and handsome silver +lace; costly clothes, though somewhat spoiled with the fog and being +slept in. + +"I'm vexed, sir, about the boat," says the captain. + +"There are some pretty men gone to the bottom," said the stranger, "that +I would rather see on the dry land again than half a score of boats." + +"Friends of yours?" said Hoseason. + +"You have none such friends in your country," was the reply. "They would +have died for me like dogs." + +"Well, sir," said the captain, still watching him, "there are more men +in the world than boats to put them in." + +"And that's true, too," cried the other, "and ye seem to be a gentleman +of great penetration." + +"I have been in France, sir," says the captain, so that it was plain he +meant more by the words than showed upon the face of them. + +"Well, sir," says the other, "and so has many a pretty man, for the +matter of that." + +"No doubt, sir," says the captain, "and fine coats." + +"Oho!" says the stranger, "is that how the wind sets?" And he laid his +hand quickly on his pistols. + +"Don't be hasty," said the captain. "Don't do a mischief before ye +see the need of it. Ye've a French soldier's coat upon your back and a +Scotch tongue in your head, to be sure; but so has many an honest fellow +in these days, and I dare say none the worse of it." + +"So?" said the gentleman in the fine coat: "are ye of the honest party?" +(meaning, Was he a Jacobite? for each side, in these sort of civil +broils, takes the name of honesty for its own). + +"Why, sir," replied the captain, "I am a true-blue Protestant, and I +thank God for it." (It was the first word of any religion I had ever +heard from him, but I learnt afterwards he was a great church-goer while +on shore.) "But, for all that," says he, "I can be sorry to see another +man with his back to the wall." + +"Can ye so, indeed?" asked the Jacobite. "Well, sir, to be quite plain +with ye, I am one of those honest gentlemen that were in trouble about +the years forty-five and six; and (to be still quite plain with ye) if +I got into the hands of any of the red-coated gentry, it's like it would +go hard with me. Now, sir, I was for France; and there was a French ship +cruising here to pick me up; but she gave us the go-by in the fog--as I +wish from the heart that ye had done yoursel'! And the best that I can +say is this: If ye can set me ashore where I was going, I have that upon +me will reward you highly for your trouble." + +"In France?" says the captain. "No, sir; that I cannot do. But where ye +come from--we might talk of that." + +And then, unhappily, he observed me standing in my corner, and packed +me off to the galley to get supper for the gentleman. I lost no time, +I promise you; and when I came back into the round-house, I found the +gentleman had taken a money-belt from about his waist, and poured out +a guinea or two upon the table. The captain was looking at the guineas, +and then at the belt, and then at the gentleman's face; and I thought he +seemed excited. + +"Half of it," he cried, "and I'm your man!" + +The other swept back the guineas into the belt, and put it on again +under his waistcoat. "I have told ye sir," said he, "that not one doit +of it belongs to me. It belongs to my chieftain," and here he touched +his hat, "and while I would be but a silly messenger to grudge some of +it that the rest might come safe, I should show myself a hound indeed if +I bought my own carcase any too dear. Thirty guineas on the sea-side, or +sixty if ye set me on the Linnhe Loch. Take it, if ye will; if not, ye +can do your worst." + +"Ay," said Hoseason. "And if I give ye over to the soldiers?" + +"Ye would make a fool's bargain," said the other. "My chief, let me tell +you, sir, is forfeited, like every honest man in Scotland. His estate +is in the hands of the man they call King George; and it is his officers +that collect the rents, or try to collect them. But for the honour of +Scotland, the poor tenant bodies take a thought upon their chief lying +in exile; and this money is a part of that very rent for which King +George is looking. Now, sir, ye seem to me to be a man that understands +things: bring this money within the reach of Government, and how much of +it'll come to you?" + +"Little enough, to be sure," said Hoseason; and then, "if they knew," he +added, drily. "But I think, if I was to try, that I could hold my tongue +about it." + +"Ah, but I'll begowk* ye there!" cried the gentleman. "Play me false, +and I'll play you cunning. If a hand is laid upon me, they shall ken +what money it is." + + *Befool. + +"Well," returned the captain, "what must be must. Sixty guineas, and +done. Here's my hand upon it." + +"And here's mine," said the other. + +And thereupon the captain went out (rather hurriedly, I thought), and +left me alone in the round-house with the stranger. + +At that period (so soon after the forty-five) there were many exiled +gentlemen coming back at the peril of their lives, either to see their +friends or to collect a little money; and as for the Highland chiefs +that had been forfeited, it was a common matter of talk how their +tenants would stint themselves to send them money, and their clansmen +outface the soldiery to get it in, and run the gauntlet of our great +navy to carry it across. All this I had, of course, heard tell of; and +now I had a man under my eyes whose life was forfeit on all these counts +and upon one more, for he was not only a rebel and a smuggler of rents, +but had taken service with King Louis of France. And as if all this +were not enough, he had a belt full of golden guineas round his loins. +Whatever my opinions, I could not look on such a man without a lively +interest. + +"And so you're a Jacobite?" said I, as I set meat before him. + +"Ay," said he, beginning to eat. "And you, by your long face, should be +a Whig?"* + + * Whig or Whigamore was the cant name for those who were + loyal to King George. + +"Betwixt and between," said I, not to annoy him; for indeed I was as +good a Whig as Mr. Campbell could make me. + +"And that's naething," said he. "But I'm saying, Mr. +Betwixt-and-Between," he added, "this bottle of yours is dry; and it's +hard if I'm to pay sixty guineas and be grudged a dram upon the back of +it." + +"I'll go and ask for the key," said I, and stepped on deck. + +The fog was as close as ever, but the swell almost down. They had laid +the brig to, not knowing precisely where they were, and the wind (what +little there was of it) not serving well for their true course. Some of +the hands were still hearkening for breakers; but the captain and the +two officers were in the waist with their heads together. It struck me +(I don't know why) that they were after no good; and the first word I +heard, as I drew softly near, more than confirmed me. + +It was Mr. Riach, crying out as if upon a sudden thought: "Couldn't we +wile him out of the round-house?" + +"He's better where he is," returned Hoseason; "he hasn't room to use his +sword." + +"Well, that's true," said Riach; "but he's hard to come at." + +"Hut!" said Hoseason. "We can get the man in talk, one upon each side, +and pin him by the two arms; or if that'll not hold, sir, we can make a +run by both the doors and get him under hand before he has the time to +draw." + +At this hearing, I was seized with both fear and anger at these +treacherous, greedy, bloody men that I sailed with. My first mind was to +run away; my second was bolder. + +"Captain," said I, "the gentleman is seeking a dram, and the bottle's +out. Will you give me the key?" + +They all started and turned about. + +"Why, here's our chance to get the firearms!" + +Riach cried; and then to me: "Hark ye, David," he said, "do ye ken where +the pistols are?" + +"Ay, ay," put in Hoseason. "David kens; David's a good lad. Ye see, +David my man, yon wild Hielandman is a danger to the ship, besides being +a rank foe to King George, God bless him!" + +I had never been so be-Davided since I came on board: but I said Yes, as +if all I heard were quite natural. + +"The trouble is," resumed the captain, "that all our firelocks, great +and little, are in the round-house under this man's nose; likewise the +powder. Now, if I, or one of the officers, was to go in and take them, +he would fall to thinking. But a lad like you, David, might snap up a +horn and a pistol or two without remark. And if ye can do it cleverly, +I'll bear it in mind when it'll be good for you to have friends; and +that's when we come to Carolina." + +Here Mr. Riach whispered him a little. + +"Very right, sir," said the captain; and then to myself: "And see here, +David, yon man has a beltful of gold, and I give you my word that you +shall have your fingers in it." + +I told him I would do as he wished, though indeed I had scarce breath to +speak with; and upon that he gave me the key of the spirit locker, and I +began to go slowly back to the round-house. What was I to do? They +were dogs and thieves; they had stolen me from my own country; they had +killed poor Ransome; and was I to hold the candle to another murder? But +then, upon the other hand, there was the fear of death very plain before +me; for what could a boy and a man, if they were as brave as lions, +against a whole ship's company? + +I was still arguing it back and forth, and getting no great clearness, +when I came into the round-house and saw the Jacobite eating his supper +under the lamp; and at that my mind was made up all in a moment. I have +no credit by it; it was by no choice of mine, but as if by compulsion, +that I walked right up to the table and put my hand on his shoulder. + +"Do ye want to be killed?" said I. He sprang to his feet, and looked a +question at me as clear as if he had spoken. + +"O!" cried I, "they're all murderers here; it's a ship full of them! +They've murdered a boy already. Now it's you." + +"Ay, ay," said he; "but they have n't got me yet." And then looking at me +curiously, "Will ye stand with me?" + +"That will I!" said I. "I am no thief, nor yet murderer. I'll stand by +you." + +"Why, then," said he, "what's your name?" + +"David Balfour," said I; and then, thinking that a man with so fine a +coat must like fine people, I added for the first time, "of Shaws." + +It never occurred to him to doubt me, for a Highlander is used to see +great gentlefolk in great poverty; but as he had no estate of his own, +my words nettled a very childish vanity he had. + +"My name is Stewart," he said, drawing himself up. "Alan Breck, they +call me. A king's name is good enough for me, though I bear it plain and +have the name of no farm-midden to clap to the hind-end of it." + +And having administered this rebuke, as though it were something of a +chief importance, he turned to examine our defences. + +The round-house was built very strong, to support the breaching of the +seas. Of its five apertures, only the skylight and the two doors were +large enough for the passage of a man. The doors, besides, could be +drawn close: they were of stout oak, and ran in grooves, and were fitted +with hooks to keep them either shut or open, as the need arose. The +one that was already shut I secured in this fashion; but when I was +proceeding to slide to the other, Alan stopped me. + +"David," said he--"for I cannae bring to mind the name of your landed +estate, and so will make so bold as to call you David--that door, being +open, is the best part of my defences." + +"It would be yet better shut," says I. + +"Not so, David," says he. "Ye see, I have but one face; but so long as +that door is open and my face to it, the best part of my enemies will be +in front of me, where I would aye wish to find them." + +Then he gave me from the rack a cutlass (of which there were a few +besides the firearms), choosing it with great care, shaking his head and +saying he had never in all his life seen poorer weapons; and next he set +me down to the table with a powder-horn, a bag of bullets and all the +pistols, which he bade me charge. + +"And that will be better work, let me tell you," said he, "for a +gentleman of decent birth, than scraping plates and raxing* drams to a +wheen tarry sailors." + + *Reaching. + +Thereupon he stood up in the midst with his face to the door, and +drawing his great sword, made trial of the room he had to wield it in. + +"I must stick to the point," he said, shaking his head; "and that's a +pity, too. It doesn't set my genius, which is all for the upper guard. +And, now," said he, "do you keep on charging the pistols, and give heed +to me." + +I told him I would listen closely. My chest was tight, my mouth dry, the +light dark to my eyes; the thought of the numbers that were soon to +leap in upon us kept my heart in a flutter: and the sea, which I heard +washing round the brig, and where I thought my dead body would be cast +ere morning, ran in my mind strangely. + +"First of all," said he, "how many are against us?" + +I reckoned them up; and such was the hurry of my mind, I had to cast the +numbers twice. "Fifteen," said I. + +Alan whistled. "Well," said he, "that can't be cured. And now follow me. +It is my part to keep this door, where I look for the main battle. In +that, ye have no hand. And mind and dinnae fire to this side unless they +get me down; for I would rather have ten foes in front of me than one +friend like you cracking pistols at my back." + +I told him, indeed I was no great shot. + +"And that's very bravely said," he cried, in a great admiration of my +candour. "There's many a pretty gentleman that wouldnae dare to say it." + +"But then, sir," said I, "there is the door behind you, which they may +perhaps break in." + +"Ay," said he, "and that is a part of your work. No sooner the pistols +charged, than ye must climb up into yon bed where ye're handy at the +window; and if they lift hand against the door, ye're to shoot. But +that's not all. Let's make a bit of a soldier of ye, David. What else +have ye to guard?" + +"There's the skylight," said I. "But indeed, Mr. Stewart, I would need +to have eyes upon both sides to keep the two of them; for when my face +is at the one, my back is to the other." + +"And that's very true," said Alan. "But have ye no ears to your head?" + +"To be sure!" cried I. "I must hear the bursting of the glass!" + +"Ye have some rudiments of sense," said Alan, grimly. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE + +But now our time of truce was come to an end. Those on deck had waited +for my coming till they grew impatient; and scarce had Alan spoken, when +the captain showed face in the open door. + +"Stand!" cried Alan, and pointed his sword at him. The captain stood, +indeed; but he neither winced nor drew back a foot. + +"A naked sword?" says he. "This is a strange return for hospitality." + +"Do ye see me?" said Alan. "I am come of kings; I bear a king's name. My +badge is the oak. Do ye see my sword? It has slashed the heads off mair +Whigamores than you have toes upon your feet. Call up your vermin to +your back, sir, and fall on! The sooner the clash begins, the sooner +ye'll taste this steel throughout your vitals." + +The captain said nothing to Alan, but he looked over at me with an ugly +look. "David," said he, "I'll mind this;" and the sound of his voice +went through me with a jar. + +Next moment he was gone. + +"And now," said Alan, "let your hand keep your head, for the grip is +coming." + +Alan drew a dirk, which he held in his left hand in case they should run +in under his sword. I, on my part, clambered up into the berth with +an armful of pistols and something of a heavy heart, and set open the +window where I was to watch. It was a small part of the deck that I +could overlook, but enough for our purpose. The sea had gone down, and +the wind was steady and kept the sails quiet; so that there was a +great stillness in the ship, in which I made sure I heard the sound of +muttering voices. A little after, and there came a clash of steel upon +the deck, by which I knew they were dealing out the cutlasses and one +had been let fall; and after that, silence again. + +I do not know if I was what you call afraid; but my heart beat like a +bird's, both quick and little; and there was a dimness came before my +eyes which I continually rubbed away, and which continually returned. As +for hope, I had none; but only a darkness of despair and a sort of anger +against all the world that made me long to sell my life as dear as I was +able. I tried to pray, I remember, but that same hurry of my mind, like +a man running, would not suffer me to think upon the words; and my chief +wish was to have the thing begin and be done with it. + +It came all of a sudden when it did, with a rush of feet and a roar, and +then a shout from Alan, and a sound of blows and some one crying out +as if hurt. I looked back over my shoulder, and saw Mr. Shuan in the +doorway, crossing blades with Alan. + +"That's him that killed the boy!" I cried. + +"Look to your window!" said Alan; and as I turned back to my place, I +saw him pass his sword through the mate's body. + +It was none too soon for me to look to my own part; for my head was +scarce back at the window, before five men, carrying a spare yard for +a battering-ram, ran past me and took post to drive the door in. I had +never fired with a pistol in my life, and not often with a gun; far less +against a fellow-creature. But it was now or never; and just as they +swang the yard, I cried out: "Take that!" and shot into their midst. + +I must have hit one of them, for he sang out and gave back a step, and +the rest stopped as if a little disconcerted. Before they had time to +recover, I sent another ball over their heads; and at my third shot +(which went as wide as the second) the whole party threw down the yard +and ran for it. + +Then I looked round again into the deck-house. The whole place was full +of the smoke of my own firing, just as my ears seemed to be burst with +the noise of the shots. But there was Alan, standing as before; only +now his sword was running blood to the hilt, and himself so swelled +with triumph and fallen into so fine an attitude, that he looked to be +invincible. Right before him on the floor was Mr. Shuan, on his hands +and knees; the blood was pouring from his mouth, and he was sinking +slowly lower, with a terrible, white face; and just as I looked, some of +those from behind caught hold of him by the heels and dragged him bodily +out of the round-house. I believe he died as they were doing it. + +"There's one of your Whigs for ye!" cried Alan; and then turning to me, +he asked if I had done much execution. + +I told him I had winged one, and thought it was the captain. + +"And I've settled two," says he. "No, there's not enough blood let; +they'll be back again. To your watch, David. This was but a dram before +meat." + +I settled back to my place, re-charging the three pistols I had fired, +and keeping watch with both eye and ear. + +Our enemies were disputing not far off upon the deck, and that so loudly +that I could hear a word or two above the washing of the seas. + +"It was Shuan bauchled* it," I heard one say. + + * Bungled. + +And another answered him with a "Wheesht, man! He's paid the piper." + +After that the voices fell again into the same muttering as before. Only +now, one person spoke most of the time, as though laying down a plan, +and first one and then another answered him briefly, like men taking +orders. By this, I made sure they were coming on again, and told Alan. + +"It's what we have to pray for," said he. "Unless we can give them a +good distaste of us, and done with it, there'll be nae sleep for either +you or me. But this time, mind, they'll be in earnest." + +By this, my pistols were ready, and there was nothing to do but listen +and wait. While the brush lasted, I had not the time to think if I was +frighted; but now, when all was still again, my mind ran upon nothing +else. The thought of the sharp swords and the cold steel was strong in +me; and presently, when I began to hear stealthy steps and a brushing +of men's clothes against the round-house wall, and knew they were taking +their places in the dark, I could have found it in my mind to cry out +aloud. + +All this was upon Alan's side; and I had begun to think my share of the +fight was at an end, when I heard some one drop softly on the roof above +me. + +Then there came a single call on the sea-pipe, and that was the signal. +A knot of them made one rush of it, cutlass in hand, against the door; +and at the same moment, the glass of the skylight was dashed in a +thousand pieces, and a man leaped through and landed on the floor. +Before he got his feet, I had clapped a pistol to his back, and might +have shot him, too; only at the touch of him (and him alive) my whole +flesh misgave me, and I could no more pull the trigger than I could have +flown. + +He had dropped his cutlass as he jumped, and when he felt the pistol, +whipped straight round and laid hold of me, roaring out an oath; and at +that either my courage came again, or I grew so much afraid as came to +the same thing; for I gave a shriek and shot him in the midst of the +body. He gave the most horrible, ugly groan and fell to the floor. The +foot of a second fellow, whose legs were dangling through the skylight, +struck me at the same time upon the head; and at that I snatched another +pistol and shot this one through the thigh, so that he slipped through +and tumbled in a lump on his companion's body. There was no talk of +missing, any more than there was time to aim; I clapped the muzzle to +the very place and fired. + +I might have stood and stared at them for long, but I heard Alan shout +as if for help, and that brought me to my senses. + +He had kept the door so long; but one of the seamen, while he was +engaged with others, had run in under his guard and caught him about the +body. Alan was dirking him with his left hand, but the fellow clung like +a leech. Another had broken in and had his cutlass raised. The door was +thronged with their faces. I thought we were lost, and catching up my +cutlass, fell on them in flank. + +But I had not time to be of help. The wrestler dropped at last; and +Alan, leaping back to get his distance, ran upon the others like a +bull, roaring as he went. They broke before him like water, turning, and +running, and falling one against another in their haste. The sword +in his hands flashed like quicksilver into the huddle of our fleeing +enemies; and at every flash there came the scream of a man hurt. I was +still thinking we were lost, when lo! they were all gone, and Alan was +driving them along the deck as a sheep-dog chases sheep. + +Yet he was no sooner out than he was back again, being as cautious as he +was brave; and meanwhile the seamen continued running and crying out as +if he was still behind them; and we heard them tumble one upon another +into the forecastle, and clap-to the hatch upon the top. + +The round-house was like a shambles; three were dead inside, another +lay in his death agony across the threshold; and there were Alan and I +victorious and unhurt. + +He came up to me with open arms. "Come to my arms!" he cried, and +embraced and kissed me hard upon both cheeks. "David," said he, "I love +you like a brother. And O, man," he cried in a kind of ecstasy, "am I no +a bonny fighter?" + +Thereupon he turned to the four enemies, passed his sword clean through +each of them, and tumbled them out of doors one after the other. As he +did so, he kept humming and singing and whistling to himself, like a man +trying to recall an air; only what HE was trying was to make one. All +the while, the flush was in his face, and his eyes were as bright as a +five-year-old child's with a new toy. And presently he sat down upon the +table, sword in hand; the air that he was making all the time began to +run a little clearer, and then clearer still; and then out he burst with +a great voice into a Gaelic song. + +I have translated it here, not in verse (of which I have no skill) but +at least in the king's English. + +He sang it often afterwards, and the thing became popular; so that I +have heard it and had it explained to me, many's the time. + + +"This is the song of the sword of Alan; The smith made it, The fire set +it; Now it shines in the hand of Alan Breck. + +"Their eyes were many and bright, Swift were they to behold, Many the +hands they guided: The sword was alone. + +"The dun deer troop over the hill, They are many, the hill is one; The +dun deer vanish, The hill remains. + +"Come to me from the hills of heather, Come from the isles of the sea. O +far-beholding eagles, Here is your meat." + + +Now this song which he made (both words and music) in the hour of our +victory, is something less than just to me, who stood beside him in +the tussle. Mr. Shuan and five more were either killed outright or +thoroughly disabled; but of these, two fell by my hand, the two that +came by the skylight. Four more were hurt, and of that number, one (and +he not the least important) got his hurt from me. So that, altogether, +I did my fair share both of the killing and the wounding, and might have +claimed a place in Alan's verses. But poets have to think upon their +rhymes; and in good prose talk, Alan always did me more than justice. + +In the meanwhile, I was innocent of any wrong being done me. For not +only I knew no word of the Gaelic; but what with the long suspense of +the waiting, and the scurry and strain of our two spirts of fighting, +and more than all, the horror I had of some of my own share in it, the +thing was no sooner over than I was glad to stagger to a seat. There was +that tightness on my chest that I could hardly breathe; the thought +of the two men I had shot sat upon me like a nightmare; and all upon a +sudden, and before I had a guess of what was coming, I began to sob and +cry like any child. + +Alan clapped my shoulder, and said I was a brave lad and wanted nothing +but a sleep. + +"I'll take the first watch," said he. "Ye've done well by me, David, +first and last; and I wouldn't lose you for all Appin--no, nor for +Breadalbane." + +So I made up my bed on the floor; and he took the first spell, pistol +in hand and sword on knee, three hours by the captain's watch upon the +wall. Then he roused me up, and I took my turn of three hours; before +the end of which it was broad day, and a very quiet morning, with a +smooth, rolling sea that tossed the ship and made the blood run to and +fro on the round-house floor, and a heavy rain that drummed upon the +roof. All my watch there was nothing stirring; and by the banging of the +helm, I knew they had even no one at the tiller. Indeed (as I learned +afterwards) there were so many of them hurt or dead, and the rest in so +ill a temper, that Mr. Riach and the captain had to take turn and turn +like Alan and me, or the brig might have gone ashore and nobody the +wiser. It was a mercy the night had fallen so still, for the wind had +gone down as soon as the rain began. Even as it was, I judged by the +wailing of a great number of gulls that went crying and fishing round +the ship, that she must have drifted pretty near the coast or one of +the islands of the Hebrides; and at last, looking out of the door of the +round-house, I saw the great stone hills of Skye on the right hand, and, +a little more astern, the strange isle of Rum. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER + +Alan and I sat down to breakfast about six of the clock. The floor was +covered with broken glass and in a horrid mess of blood, which took away +my hunger. In all other ways we were in a situation not only agreeable +but merry; having ousted the officers from their own cabin, and having +at command all the drink in the ship--both wine and spirits--and all the +dainty part of what was eatable, such as the pickles and the fine sort +of bread. This, of itself, was enough to set us in good humour, but the +richest part of it was this, that the two thirstiest men that ever came +out of Scotland (Mr. Shuan being dead) were now shut in the fore-part of +the ship and condemned to what they hated most--cold water. + +"And depend upon it," Alan said, "we shall hear more of them ere long. +Ye may keep a man from the fighting, but never from his bottle." + +We made good company for each other. Alan, indeed, expressed himself +most lovingly; and taking a knife from the table, cut me off one of the +silver buttons from his coat. + +"I had them," says he, "from my father, Duncan Stewart; and now give ye +one of them to be a keepsake for last night's work. And wherever ye go +and show that button, the friends of Alan Breck will come around you." + +He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies; and +indeed, much as I admired his courage, I was always in danger of smiling +at his vanity: in danger, I say, for had I not kept my countenance, I +would be afraid to think what a quarrel might have followed. + +As soon as we were through with our meal he rummaged in the captain's +locker till he found a clothes-brush; and then taking off his coat, +began to visit his suit and brush away the stains, with such care and +labour as I supposed to have been only usual with women. To be sure, he +had no other; and, besides (as he said), it belonged to a king and so +behoved to be royally looked after. + +For all that, when I saw what care he took to pluck out the threads +where the button had been cut away, I put a higher value on his gift. + +He was still so engaged when we were hailed by Mr. Riach from the deck, +asking for a parley; and I, climbing through the skylight and sitting on +the edge of it, pistol in hand and with a bold front, though inwardly in +fear of broken glass, hailed him back again and bade him speak out. He +came to the edge of the round-house, and stood on a coil of rope, so +that his chin was on a level with the roof; and we looked at each other +awhile in silence. Mr. Riach, as I do not think he had been very forward +in the battle, so he had got off with nothing worse than a blow upon the +cheek: but he looked out of heart and very weary, having been all night +afoot, either standing watch or doctoring the wounded. + +"This is a bad job," said he at last, shaking his head. + +"It was none of our choosing," said I. + +"The captain," says he, "would like to speak with your friend. They +might speak at the window." + +"And how do we know what treachery he means?" cried I. + +"He means none, David," returned Mr. Riach, "and if he did, I'll tell ye +the honest truth, we couldnae get the men to follow." + +"Is that so?" said I. + +"I'll tell ye more than that," said he. "It's not only the men; it's me. +I'm frich'ened, Davie." And he smiled across at me. "No," he continued, +"what we want is to be shut of him." + +Thereupon I consulted with Alan, and the parley was agreed to and +parole given upon either side; but this was not the whole of Mr. Riach's +business, and he now begged me for a dram with such instancy and such +reminders of his former kindness, that at last I handed him a pannikin +with about a gill of brandy. He drank a part, and then carried the rest +down upon the deck, to share it (I suppose) with his superior. + +A little after, the captain came (as was agreed) to one of the windows, +and stood there in the rain, with his arm in a sling, and looking stern +and pale, and so old that my heart smote me for having fired upon him. + +Alan at once held a pistol in his face. + +"Put that thing up!" said the captain. "Have I not passed my word, sir? +or do ye seek to affront me?" + +"Captain," says Alan, "I doubt your word is a breakable. Last night ye +haggled and argle-bargled like an apple-wife; and then passed me your +word, and gave me your hand to back it; and ye ken very well what was +the upshot. Be damned to your word!" says he. + +"Well, well, sir," said the captain, "ye'll get little good by +swearing." (And truly that was a fault of which the captain was quite +free.) "But we have other things to speak," he continued, bitterly. +"Ye've made a sore hash of my brig; I haven't hands enough left to work +her; and my first officer (whom I could ill spare) has got your sword +throughout his vitals, and passed without speech. There is nothing left +me, sir, but to put back into the port of Glasgow after hands; and there +(by your leave) ye will find them that are better able to talk to you." + +"Ay?" said Alan; "and faith, I'll have a talk with them mysel'! Unless +there's naebody speaks English in that town, I have a bonny tale for +them. Fifteen tarry sailors upon the one side, and a man and a halfling +boy upon the other! O, man, it's peetiful!" + +Hoseason flushed red. + +"No," continued Alan, "that'll no do. Ye'll just have to set me ashore +as we agreed." + +"Ay," said Hoseason, "but my first officer is dead--ye ken best how. +There's none of the rest of us acquaint with this coast, sir; and it's +one very dangerous to ships." + +"I give ye your choice," says Alan. "Set me on dry ground in Appin, +or Ardgour, or in Morven, or Arisaig, or Morar; or, in brief, where ye +please, within thirty miles of my own country; except in a country of +the Campbells. That's a broad target. If ye miss that, ye must be as +feckless at the sailoring as I have found ye at the fighting. Why, my +poor country people in their bit cobles* pass from island to island in +all weathers, ay, and by night too, for the matter of that." + + *Coble: a small boat used in fishing. + +"A coble's not a ship, sir," said the captain. "It has nae draught of +water." + +"Well, then, to Glasgow if ye list!" says Alan. "We'll have the laugh of +ye at the least." + +"My mind runs little upon laughing," said the captain. "But all this +will cost money, sir." + +"Well, sir," says Alan, "I am nae weathercock. Thirty guineas, if ye land +me on the sea-side; and sixty, if ye put me in the Linnhe Loch." + +"But see, sir, where we lie, we are but a few hours' sail from +Ardnamurchan," said Hoseason. "Give me sixty, and I'll set ye there." + +"And I'm to wear my brogues and run jeopardy of the red-coats to please +you?" cries Alan. "No, sir; if ye want sixty guineas earn them, and set +me in my own country." + +"It's to risk the brig, sir," said the captain, "and your own lives +along with her." + +"Take it or want it," says Alan. + +"Could ye pilot us at all?" asked the captain, who was frowning to +himself. + +"Well, it's doubtful," said Alan. "I'm more of a fighting man (as ye +have seen for yoursel') than a sailor-man. But I have been often enough +picked up and set down upon this coast, and should ken something of the +lie of it." + +The captain shook his head, still frowning. + +"If I had lost less money on this unchancy cruise," says he, "I would +see you in a rope's end before I risked my brig, sir. But be it as ye +will. As soon as I get a slant of wind (and there's some coming, or I'm +the more mistaken) I'll put it in hand. But there's one thing more. We +may meet in with a king's ship and she may lay us aboard, sir, with no +blame of mine: they keep the cruisers thick upon this coast, ye ken who +for. Now, sir, if that was to befall, ye might leave the money." + +"Captain," says Alan, "if ye see a pennant, it shall be your part to +run away. And now, as I hear you're a little short of brandy in the +fore-part, I'll offer ye a change: a bottle of brandy against two +buckets of water." + +That was the last clause of the treaty, and was duly executed on both +sides; so that Alan and I could at last wash out the round-house and be +quit of the memorials of those whom we had slain, and the captain and +Mr. Riach could be happy again in their own way, the name of which was +drink. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +I HEAR OF THE "RED FOX" + +Before we had done cleaning out the round-house, a breeze sprang up from +a little to the east of north. This blew off the rain and brought out +the sun. + +And here I must explain; and the reader would do well to look at a map. +On the day when the fog fell and we ran down Alan's boat, we had been +running through the Little Minch. At dawn after the battle, we lay +becalmed to the east of the Isle of Canna or between that and Isle +Eriska in the chain of the Long Island. Now to get from there to the +Linnhe Loch, the straight course was through the narrows of the Sound of +Mull. But the captain had no chart; he was afraid to trust his brig so +deep among the islands; and the wind serving well, he preferred to go by +west of Tiree and come up under the southern coast of the great Isle of +Mull. + +All day the breeze held in the same point, and rather freshened than +died down; and towards afternoon, a swell began to set in from round the +outer Hebrides. Our course, to go round about the inner isles, was to +the west of south, so that at first we had this swell upon our beam, and +were much rolled about. But after nightfall, when we had turned the end +of Tiree and began to head more to the east, the sea came right astern. + +Meanwhile, the early part of the day, before the swell came up, was +very pleasant; sailing, as we were, in a bright sunshine and with +many mountainous islands upon different sides. Alan and I sat in the +round-house with the doors open on each side (the wind being straight +astern), and smoked a pipe or two of the captain's fine tobacco. It was +at this time we heard each other's stories, which was the more important +to me, as I gained some knowledge of that wild Highland country on which +I was so soon to land. In those days, so close on the back of the great +rebellion, it was needful a man should know what he was doing when he +went upon the heather. + +It was I that showed the example, telling him all my misfortune; which +he heard with great good-nature. Only, when I came to mention that good +friend of mine, Mr. Campbell the minister, Alan fired up and cried out +that he hated all that were of that name. + +"Why," said I, "he is a man you should be proud to give your hand to." + +"I know nothing I would help a Campbell to," says he, "unless it was a +leaden bullet. I would hunt all of that name like blackcocks. If I lay +dying, I would crawl upon my knees to my chamber window for a shot at +one." + +"Why, Alan," I cried, "what ails ye at the Campbells?" + +"Well," says he, "ye ken very well that I am an Appin Stewart, and the +Campbells have long harried and wasted those of my name; ay, and got +lands of us by treachery--but never with the sword," he cried loudly, +and with the word brought down his fist upon the table. But I paid the +less attention to this, for I knew it was usually said by those who have +the underhand. "There's more than that," he continued, "and all in the +same story: lying words, lying papers, tricks fit for a peddler, and the +show of what's legal over all, to make a man the more angry." + +"You that are so wasteful of your buttons," said I, "I can hardly think +you would be a good judge of business." + +"Ah!" says he, falling again to smiling, "I got my wastefulness from +the same man I got the buttons from; and that was my poor father, Duncan +Stewart, grace be to him! He was the prettiest man of his kindred; and +the best swordsman in the Hielands, David, and that is the same as to +say, in all the world, I should ken, for it was him that taught me. +He was in the Black Watch, when first it was mustered; and, like other +gentlemen privates, had a gillie at his back to carry his firelock for +him on the march. Well, the King, it appears, was wishful to see Hieland +swordsmanship; and my father and three more were chosen out and sent to +London town, to let him see it at the best. So they were had into the +palace and showed the whole art of the sword for two hours at a stretch, +before King George and Queen Carline, and the Butcher Cumberland, and +many more of whom I havenae mind. And when they were through, the King +(for all he was a rank usurper) spoke them fair and gave each man three +guineas in his hand. Now, as they were going out of the palace, they +had a porter's lodge to go by; and it came in on my father, as he was +perhaps the first private Hieland gentleman that had ever gone by that +door, it was right he should give the poor porter a proper notion of +their quality. So he gives the King's three guineas into the man's hand, +as if it was his common custom; the three others that came behind him +did the same; and there they were on the street, never a penny the +better for their pains. Some say it was one, that was the first to fee +the King's porter; and some say it was another; but the truth of it is, +that it was Duncan Stewart, as I am willing to prove with either sword +or pistol. And that was the father that I had, God rest him!" + +"I think he was not the man to leave you rich," said I. + +"And that's true," said Alan. "He left me my breeks to cover me, and +little besides. And that was how I came to enlist, which was a black +spot upon my character at the best of times, and would still be a sore +job for me if I fell among the red-coats." + +"What," cried I, "were you in the English army?" + +"That was I," said Alan. "But I deserted to the right side at Preston +Pans--and that's some comfort." + +I could scarcely share this view: holding desertion under arms for an +unpardonable fault in honour. But for all I was so young, I was wiser +than say my thought. "Dear, dear," says I, "the punishment is death." + +"Ay" said he, "if they got hands on me, it would be a short shrift and +a lang tow for Alan! But I have the King of France's commission in my +pocket, which would aye be some protection." + +"I misdoubt it much," said I. + +"I have doubts mysel'," said Alan drily. + +"And, good heaven, man," cried I, "you that are a condemned rebel, and a +deserter, and a man of the French King's--what tempts ye back into this +country? It's a braving of Providence." + +"Tut!" says Alan, "I have been back every year since forty-six!" + +"And what brings ye, man?" cried I. + +"Well, ye see, I weary for my friends and country," said he. "France is +a braw place, nae doubt; but I weary for the heather and the deer. And +then I have bit things that I attend to. Whiles I pick up a few lads +to serve the King of France: recruits, ye see; and that's aye a +little money. But the heart of the matter is the business of my chief, +Ardshiel." + +"I thought they called your chief Appin," said I. + +"Ay, but Ardshiel is the captain of the clan," said he, which scarcely +cleared my mind. "Ye see, David, he that was all his life so great a +man, and come of the blood and bearing the name of kings, is now brought +down to live in a French town like a poor and private person. He that +had four hundred swords at his whistle, I have seen, with these eyes +of mine, buying butter in the market-place, and taking it home in a +kale-leaf. This is not only a pain but a disgrace to us of his family +and clan. There are the bairns forby, the children and the hope of +Appin, that must be learned their letters and how to hold a sword, in +that far country. Now, the tenants of Appin have to pay a rent to King +George; but their hearts are staunch, they are true to their chief; and +what with love and a bit of pressure, and maybe a threat or two, the +poor folk scrape up a second rent for Ardshiel. Well, David, I'm the +hand that carries it." And he struck the belt about his body, so that +the guineas rang. + +"Do they pay both?" cried I. + +"Ay, David, both," says he. + +"What! two rents?" I repeated. + +"Ay, David," said he. "I told a different tale to yon captain man; but +this is the truth of it. And it's wonderful to me how little pressure +is needed. But that's the handiwork of my good kinsman and my father's +friend, James of the Glens: James Stewart, that is: Ardshiel's +half-brother. He it is that gets the money in, and does the management." + +This was the first time I heard the name of that James Stewart, who was +afterwards so famous at the time of his hanging. But I took little heed +at the moment, for all my mind was occupied with the generosity of these +poor Highlanders. + +"I call it noble," I cried. "I'm a Whig, or little better; but I call it +noble." + +"Ay" said he, "ye're a Whig, but ye're a gentleman; and that's what does +it. Now, if ye were one of the cursed race of Campbell, ye would gnash +your teeth to hear tell of it. If ye were the Red Fox..." And at that +name, his teeth shut together, and he ceased speaking. I have seen many +a grim face, but never a grimmer than Alan's when he had named the Red +Fox. + +"And who is the Red Fox?" I asked, daunted, but still curious. + +"Who is he?" cried Alan. "Well, and I'll tell you that. When the men of +the clans were broken at Culloden, and the good cause went down, and the +horses rode over the fetlocks in the best blood of the north, Ardshiel +had to flee like a poor deer upon the mountains--he and his lady and his +bairns. A sair job we had of it before we got him shipped; and while he +still lay in the heather, the English rogues, that couldnae come at his +life, were striking at his rights. They stripped him of his powers; they +stripped him of his lands; they plucked the weapons from the hands of +his clansmen, that had borne arms for thirty centuries; ay, and the very +clothes off their backs--so that it's now a sin to wear a tartan plaid, +and a man may be cast into a gaol if he has but a kilt about his legs. +One thing they couldnae kill. That was the love the clansmen bore their +chief. These guineas are the proof of it. And now, in there steps a man, +a Campbell, red-headed Colin of Glenure----" + +"Is that him you call the Red Fox?" said I. + +"Will ye bring me his brush?" cries Alan, fiercely. "Ay, that's the man. +In he steps, and gets papers from King George, to be so-called King's +factor on the lands of Appin. And at first he sings small, and is +hail-fellow-well-met with Sheamus--that's James of the Glens, my +chieftain's agent. But by-and-by, that came to his ears that I have just +told you; how the poor commons of Appin, the farmers and the crofters +and the boumen, were wringing their very plaids to get a second rent, +and send it over-seas for Ardshiel and his poor bairns. What was it ye +called it, when I told ye?" + +"I called it noble, Alan," said I. + +"And you little better than a common Whig!" cries Alan. "But when it +came to Colin Roy, the black Campbell blood in him ran wild. He sat +gnashing his teeth at the wine table. What! should a Stewart get a bite +of bread, and him not be able to prevent it? Ah! Red Fox, if ever I +hold you at a gun's end, the Lord have pity upon ye!" (Alan stopped to +swallow down his anger.) "Well, David, what does he do? He declares all +the farms to let. And, thinks he, in his black heart, 'I'll soon get +other tenants that'll overbid these Stewarts, and Maccolls, and Macrobs' +(for these are all names in my clan, David); 'and then,' thinks he, +'Ardshiel will have to hold his bonnet on a French roadside.'" + +"Well," said I, "what followed?" + +Alan laid down his pipe, which he had long since suffered to go out, and +set his two hands upon his knees. + +"Ay," said he, "ye'll never guess that! For these same Stewarts, and +Maccolls, and Macrobs (that had two rents to pay, one to King George +by stark force, and one to Ardshiel by natural kindness) offered him a +better price than any Campbell in all broad Scotland; and far he +sent seeking them--as far as to the sides of Clyde and the cross of +Edinburgh--seeking, and fleeching, and begging them to come, where there +was a Stewart to be starved and a red-headed hound of a Campbell to be +pleasured!" + +"Well, Alan," said I, "that is a strange story, and a fine one, too. And +Whig as I may be, I am glad the man was beaten." + +"Him beaten?" echoed Alan. "It's little ye ken of Campbells, and less +of the Red Fox. Him beaten? No: nor will be, till his blood's on the +hillside! But if the day comes, David man, that I can find time and +leisure for a bit of hunting, there grows not enough heather in all +Scotland to hide him from my vengeance!" + +"Man Alan," said I, "ye are neither very wise nor very Christian to +blow off so many words of anger. They will do the man ye call the Fox no +harm, and yourself no good. Tell me your tale plainly out. What did he +next?" + +"And that's a good observe, David," said Alan. "Troth and indeed, +they will do him no harm; the more's the pity! And barring that about +Christianity (of which my opinion is quite otherwise, or I would be nae +Christian), I am much of your mind." + +"Opinion here or opinion there," said I, "it's a kent thing that +Christianity forbids revenge." + +"Ay" said he, "it's well seen it was a Campbell taught ye! It would be +a convenient world for them and their sort, if there was no such a thing +as a lad and a gun behind a heather bush! But that's nothing to the +point. This is what he did." + +"Ay" said I, "come to that." + +"Well, David," said he, "since he couldnae be rid of the loyal commons +by fair means, he swore he would be rid of them by foul. Ardshiel was to +starve: that was the thing he aimed at. And since them that fed him in +his exile wouldnae be bought out--right or wrong, he would drive them +out. Therefore he sent for lawyers, and papers, and red-coats to stand +at his back. And the kindly folk of that country must all pack and +tramp, every father's son out of his father's house, and out of the +place where he was bred and fed, and played when he was a callant. And +who are to succeed them? Bare-leggit beggars! King George is to whistle +for his rents; he maun dow with less; he can spread his butter thinner: +what cares Red Colin? If he can hurt Ardshiel, he has his wish; if he +can pluck the meat from my chieftain's table, and the bit toys out of +his children's hands, he will gang hame singing to Glenure!" + +"Let me have a word," said I. "Be sure, if they take less rents, be +sure Government has a finger in the pie. It's not this Campbell's fault, +man--it's his orders. And if ye killed this Colin to-morrow, what better +would ye be? There would be another factor in his shoes, as fast as spur +can drive." + +"Ye're a good lad in a fight," said Alan; "but, man! ye have Whig blood +in ye!" + +He spoke kindly enough, but there was so much anger under his contempt +that I thought it was wise to change the conversation. I expressed my +wonder how, with the Highlands covered with troops, and guarded like +a city in a siege, a man in his situation could come and go without +arrest. + +"It's easier than ye would think," said Alan. "A bare hillside (ye see) +is like all one road; if there's a sentry at one place, ye just go by +another. And then the heather's a great help. And everywhere there are +friends' houses and friends' byres and haystacks. And besides, when folk +talk of a country covered with troops, it's but a kind of a byword at +the best. A soldier covers nae mair of it than his boot-soles. I have +fished a water with a sentry on the other side of the brae, and killed a +fine trout; and I have sat in a heather bush within six feet of another, +and learned a real bonny tune from his whistling. This was it," said he, +and whistled me the air. + +"And then, besides," he continued, "it's no sae bad now as it was in +forty-six. The Hielands are what they call pacified. Small wonder, with +never a gun or a sword left from Cantyre to Cape Wrath, but what tenty* +folk have hidden in their thatch! But what I would like to ken, David, +is just how long? Not long, ye would think, with men like Ardshiel in +exile and men like the Red Fox sitting birling the wine and oppressing +the poor at home. But it's a kittle thing to decide what folk'll bear, +and what they will not. Or why would Red Colin be riding his horse all +over my poor country of Appin, and never a pretty lad to put a bullet in +him?" + + * Careful. + +And with this Alan fell into a muse, and for a long time sate very sad +and silent. + +I will add the rest of what I have to say about my friend, that he +was skilled in all kinds of music, but principally pipe-music; was a +well-considered poet in his own tongue; had read several books both in +French and English; was a dead shot, a good angler, and an excellent +fencer with the small sword as well as with his own particular weapon. +For his faults, they were on his face, and I now knew them all. But +the worst of them, his childish propensity to take offence and to pick +quarrels, he greatly laid aside in my case, out of regard for the battle +of the round-house. But whether it was because I had done well myself, +or because I had been a witness of his own much greater prowess, is more +than I can tell. For though he had a great taste for courage in other +men, yet he admired it most in Alan Breck. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE LOSS OF THE BRIG + +It was already late at night, and as dark as it ever would be at that +season of the year (and that is to say, it was still pretty bright), +when Hoseason clapped his head into the round-house door. + +"Here," said he, "come out and see if ye can pilot." + +"Is this one of your tricks?" asked Alan. + +"Do I look like tricks?" cries the captain. "I have other things to +think of--my brig's in danger!" + +By the concerned look of his face, and, above all, by the sharp tones in +which he spoke of his brig, it was plain to both of us he was in deadly +earnest; and so Alan and I, with no great fear of treachery, stepped on +deck. + +The sky was clear; it blew hard, and was bitter cold; a great deal of +daylight lingered; and the moon, which was nearly full, shone brightly. +The brig was close hauled, so as to round the southwest corner of the +Island of Mull, the hills of which (and Ben More above them all, with a +wisp of mist upon the top of it) lay full upon the lar-board bow. Though +it was no good point of sailing for the Covenant, she tore through +the seas at a great rate, pitching and straining, and pursued by the +westerly swell. + +Altogether it was no such ill night to keep the seas in; and I had begun +to wonder what it was that sat so heavily upon the captain, when the +brig rising suddenly on the top of a high swell, he pointed and cried to +us to look. Away on the lee bow, a thing like a fountain rose out of the +moonlit sea, and immediately after we heard a low sound of roaring. + +"What do ye call that?" asked the captain, gloomily. + +"The sea breaking on a reef," said Alan. "And now ye ken where it is; +and what better would ye have?" + +"Ay," said Hoseason, "if it was the only one." + +And sure enough, just as he spoke there came a second fountain farther +to the south. + +"There!" said Hoseason. "Ye see for yourself. If I had kent of these +reefs, if I had had a chart, or if Shuan had been spared, it's not sixty +guineas, no, nor six hundred, would have made me risk my brig in sic a +stoneyard! But you, sir, that was to pilot us, have ye never a word?" + +"I'm thinking," said Alan, "these'll be what they call the Torran +Rocks." + +"Are there many of them?" says the captain. + +"Truly, sir, I am nae pilot," said Alan; "but it sticks in my mind there +are ten miles of them." + +Mr. Riach and the captain looked at each other. + +"There's a way through them, I suppose?" said the captain. + +"Doubtless," said Alan, "but where? But it somehow runs in my mind once +more that it is clearer under the land." + +"So?" said Hoseason. "We'll have to haul our wind then, Mr. Riach; we'll +have to come as near in about the end of Mull as we can take her, sir; +and even then we'll have the land to kep the wind off us, and that +stoneyard on our lee. Well, we're in for it now, and may as well crack +on." + +With that he gave an order to the steersman, and sent Riach to the +foretop. There were only five men on deck, counting the officers; these +being all that were fit (or, at least, both fit and willing) for their +work. So, as I say, it fell to Mr. Riach to go aloft, and he sat there +looking out and hailing the deck with news of all he saw. + +"The sea to the south is thick," he cried; and then, after a while, "it +does seem clearer in by the land." + +"Well, sir," said Hoseason to Alan, "we'll try your way of it. But I +think I might as well trust to a blind fiddler. Pray God you're right." + +"Pray God I am!" says Alan to me. "But where did I hear it? Well, well, +it will be as it must." + +As we got nearer to the turn of the land the reefs began to be sown here +and there on our very path; and Mr. Riach sometimes cried down to us to +change the course. Sometimes, indeed, none too soon; for one reef was +so close on the brig's weather board that when a sea burst upon it the +lighter sprays fell upon her deck and wetted us like rain. + +The brightness of the night showed us these perils as clearly as by day, +which was, perhaps, the more alarming. It showed me, too, the face of +the captain as he stood by the steersman, now on one foot, now on the +other, and sometimes blowing in his hands, but still listening and +looking and as steady as steel. Neither he nor Mr. Riach had shown +well in the fighting; but I saw they were brave in their own trade, and +admired them all the more because I found Alan very white. + +"Ochone, David," says he, "this is no the kind of death I fancy!" + +"What, Alan!" I cried, "you're not afraid?" + +"No," said he, wetting his lips, "but you'll allow, yourself, it's a +cold ending." + +By this time, now and then sheering to one side or the other to avoid a +reef, but still hugging the wind and the land, we had got round Iona and +begun to come alongside Mull. The tide at the tail of the land ran very +strong, and threw the brig about. Two hands were put to the helm, and +Hoseason himself would sometimes lend a help; and it was strange to +see three strong men throw their weight upon the tiller, and it (like a +living thing) struggle against and drive them back. This would have +been the greater danger had not the sea been for some while free of +obstacles. Mr. Riach, besides, announced from the top that he saw clear +water ahead. + +"Ye were right," said Hoseason to Alan. "Ye have saved the brig, sir. +I'll mind that when we come to clear accounts." And I believe he not +only meant what he said, but would have done it; so high a place did the +Covenant hold in his affections. + +But this is matter only for conjecture, things having gone otherwise +than he forecast. + +"Keep her away a point," sings out Mr. Riach. "Reef to windward!" + +And just at the same time the tide caught the brig, and threw the wind +out of her sails. She came round into the wind like a top, and the next +moment struck the reef with such a dunch as threw us all flat upon the +deck, and came near to shake Mr. Riach from his place upon the mast. + +I was on my feet in a minute. The reef on which we had struck was close +in under the southwest end of Mull, off a little isle they call Earraid, +which lay low and black upon the larboard. Sometimes the swell broke +clean over us; sometimes it only ground the poor brig upon the reef, so +that we could hear her beat herself to pieces; and what with the great +noise of the sails, and the singing of the wind, and the flying of the +spray in the moonlight, and the sense of danger, I think my head must +have been partly turned, for I could scarcely understand the things I +saw. + +Presently I observed Mr. Riach and the seamen busy round the skiff, and, +still in the same blank, ran over to assist them; and as soon as I set +my hand to work, my mind came clear again. It was no very easy task, for +the skiff lay amidships and was full of hamper, and the breaking of the +heavier seas continually forced us to give over and hold on; but we all +wrought like horses while we could. + +Meanwhile such of the wounded as could move came clambering out of the +fore-scuttle and began to help; while the rest that lay helpless in +their bunks harrowed me with screaming and begging to be saved. + +The captain took no part. It seemed he was struck stupid. He stood +holding by the shrouds, talking to himself and groaning out aloud +whenever the ship hammered on the rock. His brig was like wife and +child to him; he had looked on, day by day, at the mishandling of poor +Ransome; but when it came to the brig, he seemed to suffer along with +her. + +All the time of our working at the boat, I remember only one other +thing: that I asked Alan, looking across at the shore, what country it +was; and he answered, it was the worst possible for him, for it was a +land of the Campbells. + +We had one of the wounded men told off to keep a watch upon the seas and +cry us warning. Well, we had the boat about ready to be launched, when +this man sang out pretty shrill: "For God's sake, hold on!" We knew +by his tone that it was something more than ordinary; and sure enough, +there followed a sea so huge that it lifted the brig right up and canted +her over on her beam. Whether the cry came too late, or my hold was too +weak, I know not; but at the sudden tilting of the ship I was cast clean +over the bulwarks into the sea. + +I went down, and drank my fill, and then came up, and got a blink of the +moon, and then down again. They say a man sinks a third time for good. I +cannot be made like other folk, then; for I would not like to write how +often I went down, or how often I came up again. All the while, I was +being hurled along, and beaten upon and choked, and then swallowed +whole; and the thing was so distracting to my wits, that I was neither +sorry nor afraid. + +Presently, I found I was holding to a spar, which helped me somewhat. +And then all of a sudden I was in quiet water, and began to come to +myself. + +It was the spare yard I had got hold of, and I was amazed to see how far +I had travelled from the brig. I hailed her, indeed; but it was plain +she was already out of cry. She was still holding together; but whether +or not they had yet launched the boat, I was too far off and too low +down to see. + +While I was hailing the brig, I spied a tract of water lying between +us where no great waves came, but which yet boiled white all over and +bristled in the moon with rings and bubbles. Sometimes the whole tract +swung to one side, like the tail of a live serpent; sometimes, for a +glimpse, it would all disappear and then boil up again. What it was I +had no guess, which for the time increased my fear of it; but I now know +it must have been the roost or tide race, which had carried me away so +fast and tumbled me about so cruelly, and at last, as if tired of that +play, had flung out me and the spare yard upon its landward margin. + +I now lay quite becalmed, and began to feel that a man can die of cold +as well as of drowning. The shores of Earraid were close in; I could see +in the moonlight the dots of heather and the sparkling of the mica in +the rocks. + +"Well," thought I to myself, "if I cannot get as far as that, it's +strange!" + +I had no skill of swimming, Essen Water being small in our +neighbourhood; but when I laid hold upon the yard with both arms, and +kicked out with both feet, I soon begun to find that I was moving. Hard +work it was, and mortally slow; but in about an hour of kicking +and splashing, I had got well in between the points of a sandy bay +surrounded by low hills. + +The sea was here quite quiet; there was no sound of any surf; the moon +shone clear; and I thought in my heart I had never seen a place so +desert and desolate. But it was dry land; and when at last it grew so +shallow that I could leave the yard and wade ashore upon my feet, I +cannot tell if I was more tired or more grateful. Both, at least, I was: +tired as I never was before that night; and grateful to God as I trust I +have been often, though never with more cause. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE ISLET + +With my stepping ashore I began the most unhappy part of my adventures. +It was half-past twelve in the morning, and though the wind was broken +by the land, it was a cold night. I dared not sit down (for I thought +I should have frozen), but took off my shoes and walked to and fro upon +the sand, bare-foot, and beating my breast with infinite weariness. +There was no sound of man or cattle; not a cock crew, though it was +about the hour of their first waking; only the surf broke outside in the +distance, which put me in mind of my perils and those of my friend. +To walk by the sea at that hour of the morning, and in a place so +desert-like and lonesome, struck me with a kind of fear. + +As soon as the day began to break I put on my shoes and climbed a +hill--the ruggedest scramble I ever undertook--falling, the whole way, +between big blocks of granite, or leaping from one to another. When I +got to the top the dawn was come. There was no sign of the brig, which +must have lifted from the reef and sunk. The boat, too, was nowhere to +be seen. There was never a sail upon the ocean; and in what I could see +of the land was neither house nor man. + +I was afraid to think what had befallen my shipmates, and afraid to look +longer at so empty a scene. What with my wet clothes and weariness, and +my belly that now began to ache with hunger, I had enough to trouble +me without that. So I set off eastward along the south coast, hoping to +find a house where I might warm myself, and perhaps get news of those I +had lost. And at the worst, I considered the sun would soon rise and dry +my clothes. + +After a little, my way was stopped by a creek or inlet of the sea, which +seemed to run pretty deep into the land; and as I had no means to get +across, I must needs change my direction to go about the end of it. It +was still the roughest kind of walking; indeed the whole, not only of +Earraid, but of the neighbouring part of Mull (which they call the Ross) +is nothing but a jumble of granite rocks with heather in among. At first +the creek kept narrowing as I had looked to see; but presently to my +surprise it began to widen out again. At this I scratched my head, +but had still no notion of the truth: until at last I came to a rising +ground, and it burst upon me all in a moment that I was cast upon a +little barren isle, and cut off on every side by the salt seas. + +Instead of the sun rising to dry me, it came on to rain, with a thick +mist; so that my case was lamentable. + +I stood in the rain, and shivered, and wondered what to do, till it +occurred to me that perhaps the creek was fordable. Back I went to the +narrowest point and waded in. But not three yards from shore, I plumped +in head over ears; and if ever I was heard of more, it was rather by +God's grace than my own prudence. I was no wetter (for that could hardly +be), but I was all the colder for this mishap; and having lost another +hope was the more unhappy. + +And now, all at once, the yard came in my head. What had carried me +through the roost would surely serve me to cross this little quiet creek +in safety. With that I set off, undaunted, across the top of the isle, +to fetch and carry it back. It was a weary tramp in all ways, and if +hope had not buoyed me up, I must have cast myself down and given up. +Whether with the sea salt, or because I was growing fevered, I was +distressed with thirst, and had to stop, as I went, and drink the peaty +water out of the hags. + +I came to the bay at last, more dead than alive; and at the first +glance, I thought the yard was something farther out than when I left +it. In I went, for the third time, into the sea. The sand was smooth +and firm, and shelved gradually down, so that I could wade out till the +water was almost to my neck and the little waves splashed into my face. +But at that depth my feet began to leave me, and I durst venture in no +farther. As for the yard, I saw it bobbing very quietly some twenty feet +beyond. + +I had borne up well until this last disappointment; but at that I came +ashore, and flung myself down upon the sands and wept. + +The time I spent upon the island is still so horrible a thought to me, +that I must pass it lightly over. In all the books I have read of people +cast away, they had either their pockets full of tools, or a chest of +things would be thrown upon the beach along with them, as if on purpose. +My case was very different. I had nothing in my pockets but money and +Alan's silver button; and being inland bred, I was as much short of +knowledge as of means. + +I knew indeed that shell-fish were counted good to eat; and among the +rocks of the isle I found a great plenty of limpets, which at first I +could scarcely strike from their places, not knowing quickness to be +needful. There were, besides, some of the little shells that we call +buckies; I think periwinkle is the English name. Of these two I made my +whole diet, devouring them cold and raw as I found them; and so hungry +was I, that at first they seemed to me delicious. + +Perhaps they were out of season, or perhaps there was something wrong +in the sea about my island. But at least I had no sooner eaten my first +meal than I was seized with giddiness and retching, and lay for a long +time no better than dead. A second trial of the same food (indeed I had +no other) did better with me, and revived my strength. But as long as +I was on the island, I never knew what to expect when I had eaten; +sometimes all was well, and sometimes I was thrown into a miserable +sickness; nor could I ever distinguish what particular fish it was that +hurt me. + +All day it streamed rain; the island ran like a sop, there was no dry +spot to be found; and when I lay down that night, between two boulders +that made a kind of roof, my feet were in a bog. + +The second day I crossed the island to all sides. There was no one part +of it better than another; it was all desolate and rocky; nothing living +on it but game birds which I lacked the means to kill, and the gulls +which haunted the outlying rocks in a prodigious number. But the creek, +or strait, that cut off the isle from the main-land of the Ross, opened +out on the north into a bay, and the bay again opened into the Sound of +Iona; and it was the neighbourhood of this place that I chose to be my +home; though if I had thought upon the very name of home in such a spot, +I must have burst out weeping. + +I had good reasons for my choice. There was in this part of the isle a +little hut of a house like a pig's hut, where fishers used to sleep when +they came there upon their business; but the turf roof of it had fallen +entirely in; so that the hut was of no use to me, and gave me less +shelter than my rocks. What was more important, the shell-fish on which +I lived grew there in great plenty; when the tide was out I could gather +a peck at a time: and this was doubtless a convenience. But the other +reason went deeper. I had become in no way used to the horrid solitude +of the isle, but still looked round me on all sides (like a man that +was hunted), between fear and hope that I might see some human creature +coming. Now, from a little up the hillside over the bay, I could catch a +sight of the great, ancient church and the roofs of the people's houses +in Iona. And on the other hand, over the low country of the Ross, I saw +smoke go up, morning and evening, as if from a homestead in a hollow of +the land. + +I used to watch this smoke, when I was wet and cold, and had my head +half turned with loneliness; and think of the fireside and the +company, till my heart burned. It was the same with the roofs of Iona. +Altogether, this sight I had of men's homes and comfortable lives, +although it put a point on my own sufferings, yet it kept hope alive, +and helped me to eat my raw shell-fish (which had soon grown to be a +disgust), and saved me from the sense of horror I had whenever I was +quite alone with dead rocks, and fowls, and the rain, and the cold sea. + +I say it kept hope alive; and indeed it seemed impossible that I should +be left to die on the shores of my own country, and within view of a +church-tower and the smoke of men's houses. But the second day passed; +and though as long as the light lasted I kept a bright look-out for +boats on the Sound or men passing on the Ross, no help came near me. It +still rained, and I turned in to sleep, as wet as ever, and with a cruel +sore throat, but a little comforted, perhaps, by having said good-night +to my next neighbours, the people of Iona. + +Charles the Second declared a man could stay outdoors more days in the +year in the climate of England than in any other. This was very like a +king, with a palace at his back and changes of dry clothes. But he must +have had better luck on his flight from Worcester than I had on that +miserable isle. It was the height of the summer; yet it rained for more +than twenty-four hours, and did not clear until the afternoon of the +third day. + +This was the day of incidents. In the morning I saw a red deer, a buck +with a fine spread of antlers, standing in the rain on the top of the +island; but he had scarce seen me rise from under my rock, before +he trotted off upon the other side. I supposed he must have swum the +strait; though what should bring any creature to Earraid, was more than +I could fancy. + +A little after, as I was jumping about after my limpets, I was startled +by a guinea-piece, which fell upon a rock in front of me and glanced off +into the sea. When the sailors gave me my money again, they kept back +not only about a third of the whole sum, but my father's leather purse; +so that from that day out, I carried my gold loose in a pocket with a +button. I now saw there must be a hole, and clapped my hand to the place +in a great hurry. But this was to lock the stable door after the steed +was stolen. I had left the shore at Queensferry with near on fifty +pounds; now I found no more than two guinea-pieces and a silver +shilling. + +It is true I picked up a third guinea a little after, where it lay +shining on a piece of turf. That made a fortune of three pounds and four +shillings, English money, for a lad, the rightful heir of an estate, and +now starving on an isle at the extreme end of the wild Highlands. + +This state of my affairs dashed me still further; and, indeed my plight +on that third morning was truly pitiful. My clothes were beginning to +rot; my stockings in particular were quite worn through, so that my +shanks went naked; my hands had grown quite soft with the continual +soaking; my throat was very sore, my strength had much abated, and my +heart so turned against the horrid stuff I was condemned to eat, that +the very sight of it came near to sicken me. + +And yet the worst was not yet come. + +There is a pretty high rock on the northwest of Earraid, which (because +it had a flat top and overlooked the Sound) I was much in the habit of +frequenting; not that ever I stayed in one place, save when asleep, my +misery giving me no rest. Indeed, I wore myself down with continual and +aimless goings and comings in the rain. + +As soon, however, as the sun came out, I lay down on the top of that +rock to dry myself. The comfort of the sunshine is a thing I cannot +tell. It set me thinking hopefully of my deliverance, of which I had +begun to despair; and I scanned the sea and the Ross with a fresh +interest. On the south of my rock, a part of the island jutted out and +hid the open ocean, so that a boat could thus come quite near me upon +that side, and I be none the wiser. + +Well, all of a sudden, a coble with a brown sail and a pair of fishers +aboard of it, came flying round that corner of the isle, bound for Iona. +I shouted out, and then fell on my knees on the rock and reached up my +hands and prayed to them. They were near enough to hear--I could even +see the colour of their hair; and there was no doubt but they observed +me, for they cried out in the Gaelic tongue, and laughed. But the boat +never turned aside, and flew on, right before my eyes, for Iona. + +I could not believe such wickedness, and ran along the shore from rock +to rock, crying on them piteously even after they were out of reach +of my voice, I still cried and waved to them; and when they were quite +gone, I thought my heart would have burst. All the time of my troubles +I wept only twice. Once, when I could not reach the yard, and now, the +second time, when these fishers turned a deaf ear to my cries. But this +time I wept and roared like a wicked child, tearing up the turf with +my nails, and grinding my face in the earth. If a wish would kill men, +those two fishers would never have seen morning, and I should likely +have died upon my island. + +When I was a little over my anger, I must eat again, but with such +loathing of the mess as I could now scarce control. Sure enough, I +should have done as well to fast, for my fishes poisoned me again. I had +all my first pains; my throat was so sore I could scarce swallow; I had +a fit of strong shuddering, which clucked my teeth together; and there +came on me that dreadful sense of illness, which we have no name for +either in Scotch or English. I thought I should have died, and made my +peace with God, forgiving all men, even my uncle and the fishers; and as +soon as I had thus made up my mind to the worst, clearness came upon me; +I observed the night was falling dry; my clothes were dried a good deal; +truly, I was in a better case than ever before, since I had landed on +the isle; and so I got to sleep at last, with a thought of gratitude. + +The next day (which was the fourth of this horrible life of mine) I +found my bodily strength run very low. But the sun shone, the air was +sweet, and what I managed to eat of the shell-fish agreed well with me +and revived my courage. + +I was scarce back on my rock (where I went always the first thing after +I had eaten) before I observed a boat coming down the Sound, and with +her head, as I thought, in my direction. + +I began at once to hope and fear exceedingly; for I thought these men +might have thought better of their cruelty and be coming back to my +assistance. But another disappointment, such as yesterday's, was more +than I could bear. I turned my back, accordingly, upon the sea, and +did not look again till I had counted many hundreds. The boat was still +heading for the island. The next time I counted the full thousand, as +slowly as I could, my heart beating so as to hurt me. And then it was +out of all question. She was coming straight to Earraid! + +I could no longer hold myself back, but ran to the seaside and out, +from one rock to another, as far as I could go. It is a marvel I was not +drowned; for when I was brought to a stand at last, my legs shook under +me, and my mouth was so dry, I must wet it with the sea-water before I +was able to shout. + +All this time the boat was coming on; and now I was able to perceive +it was the same boat and the same two men as yesterday. This I knew by +their hair, which the one had of a bright yellow and the other black. +But now there was a third man along with them, who looked to be of a +better class. + +As soon as they were come within easy speech, they let down their sail +and lay quiet. In spite of my supplications, they drew no nearer in, and +what frightened me most of all, the new man tee-hee'd with laughter as +he talked and looked at me. + +Then he stood up in the boat and addressed me a long while, speaking +fast and with many wavings of his hand. I told him I had no Gaelic; and +at this he became very angry, and I began to suspect he thought he was +talking English. Listening very close, I caught the word "whateffer" +several times; but all the rest was Gaelic and might have been Greek and +Hebrew for me. + +"Whatever," said I, to show him I had caught a word. + +"Yes, yes--yes, yes," says he, and then he looked at the other men, as +much as to say, "I told you I spoke English," and began again as hard as +ever in the Gaelic. + +This time I picked out another word, "tide." Then I had a flash of hope. +I remembered he was always waving his hand towards the mainland of the +Ross. + +"Do you mean when the tide is out--?" I cried, and could not finish. + +"Yes, yes," said he. "Tide." + +At that I turned tail upon their boat (where my adviser had once more +begun to tee-hee with laughter), leaped back the way I had come, from +one stone to another, and set off running across the isle as I had never +run before. In about half an hour I came out upon the shores of the +creek; and, sure enough, it was shrunk into a little trickle of water, +through which I dashed, not above my knees, and landed with a shout on +the main island. + +A sea-bred boy would not have stayed a day on Earraid; which is only +what they call a tidal islet, and except in the bottom of the neaps, can +be entered and left twice in every twenty-four hours, either dry-shod, +or at the most by wading. Even I, who had the tide going out and in +before me in the bay, and even watched for the ebbs, the better to get +my shellfish--even I (I say) if I had sat down to think, instead of +raging at my fate, must have soon guessed the secret, and got free. It +was no wonder the fishers had not understood me. The wonder was rather +that they had ever guessed my pitiful illusion, and taken the trouble to +come back. I had starved with cold and hunger on that island for close +upon one hundred hours. But for the fishers, I might have left my bones +there, in pure folly. And even as it was, I had paid for it pretty dear, +not only in past sufferings, but in my present case; being clothed like +a beggar-man, scarce able to walk, and in great pain of my sore throat. + +I have seen wicked men and fools, a great many of both; and I believe +they both get paid in the end; but the fools first. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL + +The Ross of Mull, which I had now got upon, was rugged and trackless, +like the isle I had just left; being all bog, and brier, and big stone. +There may be roads for them that know that country well; but for my part +I had no better guide than my own nose, and no other landmark than Ben +More. + +I aimed as well as I could for the smoke I had seen so often from the +island; and with all my great weariness and the difficulty of the way +came upon the house in the bottom of a little hollow about five or +six at night. It was low and longish, roofed with turf and built of +unmortared stones; and on a mound in front of it, an old gentleman sat +smoking his pipe in the sun. + +With what little English he had, he gave me to understand that my +shipmates had got safe ashore, and had broken bread in that very house +on the day after. + +"Was there one," I asked, "dressed like a gentleman?" + +He said they all wore rough great-coats; but to be sure, the first of +them, the one that came alone, wore breeches and stockings, while the +rest had sailors' trousers. + +"Ah," said I, "and he would have a feathered hat?" + +He told me, no, that he was bareheaded like myself. + +At first I thought Alan might have lost his hat; and then the rain came +in my mind, and I judged it more likely he had it out of harm's way +under his great-coat. This set me smiling, partly because my friend was +safe, partly to think of his vanity in dress. + +And then the old gentleman clapped his hand to his brow, and cried out +that I must be the lad with the silver button. + +"Why, yes!" said I, in some wonder. + +"Well, then," said the old gentleman, "I have a word for you, that you +are to follow your friend to his country, by Torosay." + +He then asked me how I had fared, and I told him my tale. A +south-country man would certainly have laughed; but this old gentleman +(I call him so because of his manners, for his clothes were dropping off +his back) heard me all through with nothing but gravity and pity. When I +had done, he took me by the hand, led me into his hut (it was no better) +and presented me before his wife, as if she had been the Queen and I a +duke. + +The good woman set oat-bread before me and a cold grouse, patting my +shoulder and smiling to me all the time, for she had no English; and the +old gentleman (not to be behind) brewed me a strong punch out of their +country spirit. All the while I was eating, and after that when I was +drinking the punch, I could scarce come to believe in my good fortune; +and the house, though it was thick with the peat-smoke and as full of +holes as a colander, seemed like a palace. + +The punch threw me in a strong sweat and a deep slumber; the good people +let me lie; and it was near noon of the next day before I took the road, +my throat already easier and my spirits quite restored by good fare and +good news. The old gentleman, although I pressed him hard, would take no +money, and gave me an old bonnet for my head; though I am free to own I +was no sooner out of view of the house than I very jealously washed this +gift of his in a wayside fountain. + +Thought I to myself: "If these are the wild Highlanders, I could wish my +own folk wilder." + +I not only started late, but I must have wandered nearly half the time. +True, I met plenty of people, grubbing in little miserable fields that +would not keep a cat, or herding little kine about the bigness of asses. +The Highland dress being forbidden by law since the rebellion, and the +people condemned to the Lowland habit, which they much disliked, it was +strange to see the variety of their array. Some went bare, only for a +hanging cloak or great-coat, and carried their trousers on their backs +like a useless burthen: some had made an imitation of the tartan with +little parti-coloured stripes patched together like an old wife's quilt; +others, again, still wore the Highland philabeg, but by putting a few +stitches between the legs transformed it into a pair of trousers like +a Dutchman's. All those makeshifts were condemned and punished, for the +law was harshly applied, in hopes to break up the clan spirit; but in +that out-of-the-way, sea-bound isle, there were few to make remarks and +fewer to tell tales. + +They seemed in great poverty; which was no doubt natural, now that +rapine was put down, and the chiefs kept no longer an open house; +and the roads (even such a wandering, country by-track as the one +I followed) were infested with beggars. And here again I marked +a difference from my own part of the country. For our Lowland +beggars--even the gownsmen themselves, who beg by patent--had a louting, +flattering way with them, and if you gave them a plaek and asked change, +would very civilly return you a boddle. But these Highland beggars stood +on their dignity, asked alms only to buy snuff (by their account) and +would give no change. + +To be sure, this was no concern of mine, except in so far as it +entertained me by the way. What was much more to the purpose, few had +any English, and these few (unless they were of the brotherhood of +beggars) not very anxious to place it at my service. I knew Torosay +to be my destination, and repeated the name to them and pointed; but +instead of simply pointing in reply, they would give me a screed of the +Gaelic that set me foolish; so it was small wonder if I went out of my +road as often as I stayed in it. + +At last, about eight at night, and already very weary, I came to a lone +house, where I asked admittance, and was refused, until I bethought +me of the power of money in so poor a country, and held up one of my +guineas in my finger and thumb. Thereupon, the man of the house, who had +hitherto pretended to have no English, and driven me from his door by +signals, suddenly began to speak as clearly as was needful, and agreed +for five shillings to give me a night's lodging and guide me the next +day to Torosay. + +I slept uneasily that night, fearing I should be robbed; but I might +have spared myself the pain; for my host was no robber, only miserably +poor and a great cheat. He was not alone in his poverty; for the next +morning, we must go five miles about to the house of what he called a +rich man to have one of my guineas changed. This was perhaps a rich man +for Mull; he would have scarce been thought so in the south; for it +took all he had--the whole house was turned upside down, and a neighbour +brought under contribution, before he could scrape together twenty +shillings in silver. The odd shilling he kept for himself, protesting he +could ill afford to have so great a sum of money lying "locked up." For +all that he was very courteous and well spoken, made us both sit down +with his family to dinner, and brewed punch in a fine china bowl, over +which my rascal guide grew so merry that he refused to start. + +I was for getting angry, and appealed to the rich man (Hector Maclean +was his name), who had been a witness to our bargain and to my payment +of the five shillings. But Maclean had taken his share of the punch, +and vowed that no gentleman should leave his table after the bowl was +brewed; so there was nothing for it but to sit and hear Jacobite toasts +and Gaelic songs, till all were tipsy and staggered off to the bed or +the barn for their night's rest. + +Next day (the fourth of my travels) we were up before five upon the +clock; but my rascal guide got to the bottle at once, and it was three +hours before I had him clear of the house, and then (as you shall hear) +only for a worse disappointment. + +As long as we went down a heathery valley that lay before Mr. Maclean's +house, all went well; only my guide looked constantly over his shoulder, +and when I asked him the cause, only grinned at me. No sooner, however, +had we crossed the back of a hill, and got out of sight of the house +windows, than he told me Torosay lay right in front, and that a hill-top +(which he pointed out) was my best landmark. + +"I care very little for that," said I, "since you are going with me." + +The impudent cheat answered me in the Gaelic that he had no English. + +"My fine fellow," I said, "I know very well your English comes and goes. +Tell me what will bring it back? Is it more money you wish?" + +"Five shillings mair," said he, "and hersel' will bring ye there." + +I reflected awhile and then offered him two, which he accepted greedily, +and insisted on having in his hands at once "for luck," as he said, but +I think it was rather for my misfortune. + +The two shillings carried him not quite as many miles; at the end of +which distance, he sat down upon the wayside and took off his brogues +from his feet, like a man about to rest. + +I was now red-hot. "Ha!" said I, "have you no more English?" + +He said impudently, "No." + +At that I boiled over, and lifted my hand to strike him; and he, drawing +a knife from his rags, squatted back and grinned at me like a wildcat. +At that, forgetting everything but my anger, I ran in upon him, put +aside his knife with my left, and struck him in the mouth with the +right. I was a strong lad and very angry, and he but a little man; and +he went down before me heavily. By good luck, his knife flew out of his +hand as he fell. + +I picked up both that and his brogues, wished him a good morning, and +set off upon my way, leaving him barefoot and disarmed. I chuckled to +myself as I went, being sure I was done with that rogue, for a variety +of reasons. First, he knew he could have no more of my money; next, the +brogues were worth in that country only a few pence; and, lastly, the +knife, which was really a dagger, it was against the law for him to +carry. + +In about half an hour of walk, I overtook a great, ragged man, moving +pretty fast but feeling before him with a staff. He was quite blind, and +told me he was a catechist, which should have put me at my ease. But +his face went against me; it seemed dark and dangerous and secret; and +presently, as we began to go on alongside, I saw the steel butt of a +pistol sticking from under the flap of his coat-pocket. To carry such a +thing meant a fine of fifteen pounds sterling upon a first offence, and +transportation to the colonies upon a second. Nor could I quite see why +a religious teacher should go armed, or what a blind man could be doing +with a pistol. + +I told him about my guide, for I was proud of what I had done, and my +vanity for once got the heels of my prudence. At the mention of the +five shillings he cried out so loud that I made up my mind I should say +nothing of the other two, and was glad he could not see my blushes. + +"Was it too much?" I asked, a little faltering. + +"Too much!" cries he. "Why, I will guide you to Torosay myself for a +dram of brandy. And give you the great pleasure of my company (me that +is a man of some learning) in the bargain." + +I said I did not see how a blind man could be a guide; but at that he +laughed aloud, and said his stick was eyes enough for an eagle. + +"In the Isle of Mull, at least," says he, "where I know every stone and +heather-bush by mark of head. See, now," he said, striking right and +left, as if to make sure, "down there a burn is running; and at the head +of it there stands a bit of a small hill with a stone cocked upon the +top of that; and it's hard at the foot of the hill, that the way runs by +to Torosay; and the way here, being for droves, is plainly trodden, and +will show grassy through the heather." + +I had to own he was right in every feature, and told my wonder. + +"Ha!" says he, "that's nothing. Would ye believe me now, that before +the Act came out, and when there were weepons in this country, I could +shoot? Ay, could I!" cries he, and then with a leer: "If ye had such a +thing as a pistol here to try with, I would show ye how it's done." + +I told him I had nothing of the sort, and gave him a wider berth. If +he had known, his pistol stuck at that time quite plainly out of his +pocket, and I could see the sun twinkle on the steel of the butt. But +by the better luck for me, he knew nothing, thought all was covered, and +lied on in the dark. + +He then began to question me cunningly, where I came from, whether I +was rich, whether I could change a five-shilling piece for him (which +he declared he had that moment in his sporran), and all the time he kept +edging up to me and I avoiding him. We were now upon a sort of green +cattle-track which crossed the hills towards Torosay, and we kept +changing sides upon that like dancers in a reel. I had so plainly the +upper-hand that my spirits rose, and indeed I took a pleasure in this +game of blindman's buff; but the catechist grew angrier and angrier, +and at last began to swear in Gaelic and to strike for my legs with his +staff. + +Then I told him that, sure enough, I had a pistol in my pocket as well +as he, and if he did not strike across the hill due south I would even +blow his brains out. + +He became at once very polite, and after trying to soften me for some +time, but quite in vain, he cursed me once more in Gaelic and took +himself off. I watched him striding along, through bog and brier, +tapping with his stick, until he turned the end of a hill and +disappeared in the next hollow. Then I struck on again for Torosay, much +better pleased to be alone than to travel with that man of learning. +This was an unlucky day; and these two, of whom I had just rid myself, +one after the other, were the two worst men I met with in the Highlands. + +At Torosay, on the Sound of Mull and looking over to the mainland +of Morven, there was an inn with an innkeeper, who was a Maclean, it +appeared, of a very high family; for to keep an inn is thought even more +genteel in the Highlands than it is with us, perhaps as partaking of +hospitality, or perhaps because the trade is idle and drunken. He spoke +good English, and finding me to be something of a scholar, tried me +first in French, where he easily beat me, and then in the Latin, in +which I don't know which of us did best. This pleasant rivalry put us at +once upon friendly terms; and I sat up and drank punch with him (or to +be more correct, sat up and watched him drink it), until he was so tipsy +that he wept upon my shoulder. + +I tried him, as if by accident, with a sight of Alan's button; but it +was plain he had never seen or heard of it. Indeed, he bore some grudge +against the family and friends of Ardshiel, and before he was drunk +he read me a lampoon, in very good Latin, but with a very ill meaning, +which he had made in elegiac verses upon a person of that house. + +When I told him of my catechist, he shook his head, and said I was lucky +to have got clear off. "That is a very dangerous man," he said; "Duncan +Mackiegh is his name; he can shoot by the ear at several yards, and has +been often accused of highway robberies, and once of murder." + +"The cream of it is," says I, "that he called himself a catechist." + +"And why should he not?" says he, "when that is what he is. It was +Maclean of Duart gave it to him because he was blind. But perhaps it was +a peety," says my host, "for he is always on the road, going from +one place to another to hear the young folk say their religion; and, +doubtless, that is a great temptation to the poor man." + +At last, when my landlord could drink no more, he showed me to a bed, +and I lay down in very good spirits; having travelled the greater part +of that big and crooked Island of Mull, from Earraid to Torosay, fifty +miles as the crow flies, and (with my wanderings) much nearer a hundred, +in four days and with little fatigue. Indeed I was by far in better +heart and health of body at the end of that long tramp than I had been +at the beginning. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN + +There is a regular ferry from Torosay to Kinlochaline on the mainland. +Both shores of the Sound are in the country of the strong clan of the +Macleans, and the people that passed the ferry with me were almost all +of that clan. The skipper of the boat, on the other hand, was called +Neil Roy Macrob; and since Macrob was one of the names of Alan's +clansmen, and Alan himself had sent me to that ferry, I was eager to +come to private speech of Neil Roy. + +In the crowded boat this was of course impossible, and the passage was +a very slow affair. There was no wind, and as the boat was wretchedly +equipped, we could pull but two oars on one side, and one on the other. +The men gave way, however, with a good will, the passengers taking +spells to help them, and the whole company giving the time in +Gaelic boat-songs. And what with the songs, and the sea-air, and the +good-nature and spirit of all concerned, and the bright weather, the +passage was a pretty thing to have seen. + +But there was one melancholy part. In the mouth of Loch Aline we found +a great sea-going ship at anchor; and this I supposed at first to be one +of the King's cruisers which were kept along that coast, both summer +and winter, to prevent communication with the French. As we got a little +nearer, it became plain she was a ship of merchandise; and what still +more puzzled me, not only her decks, but the sea-beach also, were quite +black with people, and skiffs were continually plying to and fro between +them. Yet nearer, and there began to come to our ears a great sound +of mourning, the people on board and those on the shore crying and +lamenting one to another so as to pierce the heart. + +Then I understood this was an emigrant ship bound for the American +colonies. + +We put the ferry-boat alongside, and the exiles leaned over the +bulwarks, weeping and reaching out their hands to my fellow-passengers, +among whom they counted some near friends. How long this might have gone +on I do not know, for they seemed to have no sense of time: but at last +the captain of the ship, who seemed near beside himself (and no great +wonder) in the midst of this crying and confusion, came to the side and +begged us to depart. + +Thereupon Neil sheered off; and the chief singer in our boat struck into +a melancholy air, which was presently taken up both by the emigrants and +their friends upon the beach, so that it sounded from all sides like a +lament for the dying. I saw the tears run down the cheeks of the men and +women in the boat, even as they bent at the oars; and the circumstances +and the music of the song (which is one called "Lochaber no more") were +highly affecting even to myself. + +At Kinlochaline I got Neil Roy upon one side on the beach, and said I +made sure he was one of Appin's men. + +"And what for no?" said he. + +"I am seeking somebody," said I; "and it comes in my mind that you will +have news of him. Alan Breck Stewart is his name." And very foolishly, +instead of showing him the button, I sought to pass a shilling in his +hand. + +At this he drew back. "I am very much affronted," he said; "and this is +not the way that one shentleman should behave to another at all. The man +you ask for is in France; but if he was in my sporran," says he, "and +your belly full of shillings, I would not hurt a hair upon his body." + +I saw I had gone the wrong way to work, and without wasting time upon +apologies, showed him the button lying in the hollow of my palm. + +"Aweel, aweel," said Neil; "and I think ye might have begun with that +end of the stick, whatever! But if ye are the lad with the silver +button, all is well, and I have the word to see that ye come safe. But +if ye will pardon me to speak plainly," says he, "there is a name that +you should never take into your mouth, and that is the name of Alan +Breck; and there is a thing that ye would never do, and that is to offer +your dirty money to a Hieland shentleman." + +It was not very easy to apologise; for I could scarce tell him (what was +the truth) that I had never dreamed he would set up to be a gentleman +until he told me so. Neil on his part had no wish to prolong his +dealings with me, only to fulfil his orders and be done with it; and +he made haste to give me my route. This was to lie the night in +Kinlochaline in the public inn; to cross Morven the next day to Ardgour, +and lie the night in the house of one John of the Claymore, who was +warned that I might come; the third day, to be set across one loch at +Corran and another at Balachulish, and then ask my way to the house of +James of the Glens, at Aucharn in Duror of Appin. There was a good deal +of ferrying, as you hear; the sea in all this part running deep into the +mountains and winding about their roots. It makes the country strong to +hold and difficult to travel, but full of prodigious wild and dreadful +prospects. + +I had some other advice from Neil: to speak with no one by the way, to +avoid Whigs, Campbells, and the "red-soldiers;" to leave the road and +lie in a bush if I saw any of the latter coming, "for it was never +chancy to meet in with them;" and in brief, to conduct myself like a +robber or a Jacobite agent, as perhaps Neil thought me. + +The inn at Kinlochaline was the most beggarly vile place that ever pigs +were styed in, full of smoke, vermin, and silent Highlanders. I was not +only discontented with my lodging, but with myself for my mismanagement +of Neil, and thought I could hardly be worse off. But very wrongly, as I +was soon to see; for I had not been half an hour at the inn (standing in +the door most of the time, to ease my eyes from the peat smoke) when a +thunderstorm came close by, the springs broke in a little hill on which +the inn stood, and one end of the house became a running water. Places +of public entertainment were bad enough all over Scotland in those days; +yet it was a wonder to myself, when I had to go from the fireside to the +bed in which I slept, wading over the shoes. + +Early in my next day's journey I overtook a little, stout, solemn man, +walking very slowly with his toes turned out, sometimes reading in +a book and sometimes marking the place with his finger, and dressed +decently and plainly in something of a clerical style. + +This I found to be another catechist, but of a different order from the +blind man of Mull: being indeed one of those sent out by the Edinburgh +Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge, to evangelise the more +savage places of the Highlands. His name was Henderland; he spoke with +the broad south-country tongue, which I was beginning to weary for the +sound of; and besides common countryship, we soon found we had a +more particular bond of interest. For my good friend, the minister of +Essendean, had translated into the Gaelic in his by-time a number of +hymns and pious books which Henderland used in his work, and held in +great esteem. Indeed, it was one of these he was carrying and reading +when we met. + +We fell in company at once, our ways lying together as far as to +Kingairloch. As we went, he stopped and spoke with all the wayfarers +and workers that we met or passed; and though of course I could not tell +what they discoursed about, yet I judged Mr. Henderland must be well +liked in the countryside, for I observed many of them to bring out their +mulls and share a pinch of snuff with him. + +I told him as far in my affairs as I judged wise; as far, that is, +as they were none of Alan's; and gave Balachulish as the place I was +travelling to, to meet a friend; for I thought Aucharn, or even Duror, +would be too particular, and might put him on the scent. + +On his part, he told me much of his work and the people he worked among, +the hiding priests and Jacobites, the Disarming Act, the dress, and many +other curiosities of the time and place. He seemed moderate; blaming +Parliament in several points, and especially because they had framed the +Act more severely against those who wore the dress than against those +who carried weapons. + +This moderation put it in my mind to question him of the Red Fox and the +Appin tenants; questions which, I thought, would seem natural enough in +the mouth of one travelling to that country. + + + +He said it was a bad business. "It's wonderful," said he, "where the +tenants find the money, for their life is mere starvation. (Ye don't +carry such a thing as snuff, do ye, Mr. Balfour? No. Well, I'm better +wanting it.) But these tenants (as I was saying) are doubtless partly +driven to it. James Stewart in Duror (that's him they call James of the +Glens) is half-brother to Ardshiel, the captain of the clan; and he is +a man much looked up to, and drives very hard. And then there's one they +call Alan Breck--" + +"Ah!" I cried, "what of him?" + +"What of the wind that bloweth where it listeth?" said Henderland. "He's +here and awa; here to-day and gone to-morrow: a fair heather-cat. He +might be glowering at the two of us out of yon whin-bush, and I wouldnae +wonder! Ye'll no carry such a thing as snuff, will ye?" + +I told him no, and that he had asked the same thing more than once. + +"It's highly possible," said he, sighing. "But it seems strange ye +shouldnae carry it. However, as I was saying, this Alan Breck is a bold, +desperate customer, and well kent to be James's right hand. His life +is forfeit already; he would boggle at naething; and maybe, if a +tenant-body was to hang back he would get a dirk in his wame." + +"You make a poor story of it all, Mr. Henderland," said I. "If it is all +fear upon both sides, I care to hear no more of it." + +"Na," said Mr. Henderland, "but there's love too, and self-denial that +should put the like of you and me to shame. There's something fine about +it; no perhaps Christian, but humanly fine. Even Alan Breck, by all that +I hear, is a chield to be respected. There's many a lying sneck-draw +sits close in kirk in our own part of the country, and stands well in +the world's eye, and maybe is a far worse man, Mr. Balfour, than yon +misguided shedder of man's blood. Ay, ay, we might take a lesson by +them.--Ye'll perhaps think I've been too long in the Hielands?" he +added, smiling to me. + +I told him not at all; that I had seen much to admire among the +Highlanders; and if he came to that, Mr. Campbell himself was a +Highlander. + +"Ay," said he, "that's true. It's a fine blood." + +"And what is the King's agent about?" I asked. + +"Colin Campbell?" says Henderland. "Putting his head in a bees' byke!" + +"He is to turn the tenants out by force, I hear?" said I. + +"Yes," says he, "but the business has gone back and forth, as folk say. +First, James of the Glens rode to Edinburgh, and got some lawyer (a +Stewart, nae doubt--they all hing together like bats in a steeple) and +had the proceedings stayed. And then Colin Campbell cam' in again, and +had the upper-hand before the Barons of Exchequer. And now they tell me +the first of the tenants are to flit to-morrow. It's to begin at Duror +under James's very windows, which doesnae seem wise by my humble way of +it." + +"Do you think they'll fight?" I asked. + +"Well," says Henderland, "they're disarmed--or supposed to be--for +there's still a good deal of cold iron lying by in quiet places. And +then Colin Campbell has the sogers coming. But for all that, if I was +his lady wife, I wouldnae be well pleased till I got him home again. +They're queer customers, the Appin Stewarts." + +I asked if they were worse than their neighbours. + +"No they," said he. "And that's the worst part of it. For if Colin Roy +can get his business done in Appin, he has it all to begin again in the +next country, which they call Mamore, and which is one of the countries +of the Camerons. He's King's Factor upon both, and from both he has to +drive out the tenants; and indeed, Mr. Balfour (to be open with ye), +it's my belief that if he escapes the one lot, he'll get his death by +the other." + +So we continued talking and walking the great part of the day; until +at last, Mr. Henderland after expressing his delight in my company, and +satisfaction at meeting with a friend of Mr. Campbell's ("whom," says +he, "I will make bold to call that sweet singer of our covenanted +Zion"), proposed that I should make a short stage, and lie the night in +his house a little beyond Kingairloch. To say truth, I was overjoyed; +for I had no great desire for John of the Claymore, and since my double +misadventure, first with the guide and next with the gentleman skipper, +I stood in some fear of any Highland stranger. Accordingly we shook +hands upon the bargain, and came in the afternoon to a small house, +standing alone by the shore of the Linnhe Loch. The sun was already gone +from the desert mountains of Ardgour upon the hither side, but shone on +those of Appin on the farther; the loch lay as still as a lake, only +the gulls were crying round the sides of it; and the whole place seemed +solemn and uncouth. + +We had no sooner come to the door of Mr. Henderland's dwelling, than to +my great surprise (for I was now used to the politeness of Highlanders) +he burst rudely past me, dashed into the room, caught up a jar and +a small horn-spoon, and began ladling snuff into his nose in most +excessive quantities. Then he had a hearty fit of sneezing, and looked +round upon me with a rather silly smile. + +"It's a vow I took," says he. "I took a vow upon me that I wouldnae +carry it. Doubtless it's a great privation; but when I think upon +the martyrs, not only to the Scottish Covenant but to other points of +Christianity, I think shame to mind it." + +As soon as we had eaten (and porridge and whey was the best of the good +man's diet) he took a grave face and said he had a duty to perform by +Mr. Campbell, and that was to inquire into my state of mind towards God. +I was inclined to smile at him since the business of the snuff; but he +had not spoken long before he brought the tears into my eyes. There are +two things that men should never weary of, goodness and humility; we get +none too much of them in this rough world among cold, proud people; but +Mr. Henderland had their very speech upon his tongue. And though I was a +good deal puffed up with my adventures and with having come off, as the +saying is, with flying colours; yet he soon had me on my knees beside a +simple, poor old man, and both proud and glad to be there. + +Before we went to bed he offered me sixpence to help me on my way, out +of a scanty store he kept in the turf wall of his house; at which excess +of goodness I knew not what to do. But at last he was so earnest with me +that I thought it the more mannerly part to let him have his way, and so +left him poorer than myself. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX + +The next day Mr. Henderland found for me a man who had a boat of his own +and was to cross the Linnhe Loch that afternoon into Appin, fishing. Him +he prevailed on to take me, for he was one of his flock; and in this way +I saved a long day's travel and the price of the two public ferries I +must otherwise have passed. + +It was near noon before we set out; a dark day with clouds, and the sun +shining upon little patches. The sea was here very deep and still, +and had scarce a wave upon it; so that I must put the water to my lips +before I could believe it to be truly salt. The mountains on either side +were high, rough and barren, very black and gloomy in the shadow of +the clouds, but all silver-laced with little watercourses where the sun +shone upon them. It seemed a hard country, this of Appin, for people to +care as much about as Alan did. + +There was but one thing to mention. A little after we had started, +the sun shone upon a little moving clump of scarlet close in along the +water-side to the north. It was much of the same red as soldiers' coats; +every now and then, too, there came little sparks and lightnings, as +though the sun had struck upon bright steel. + +I asked my boatman what it should be, and he answered he supposed it was +some of the red soldiers coming from Fort William into Appin, against +the poor tenantry of the country. Well, it was a sad sight to me; +and whether it was because of my thoughts of Alan, or from something +prophetic in my bosom, although this was but the second time I had seen +King George's troops, I had no good will to them. + +At last we came so near the point of land at the entering in of Loch +Leven that I begged to be set on shore. My boatman (who was an honest +fellow and mindful of his promise to the catechist) would fain have +carried me on to Balachulish; but as this was to take me farther from my +secret destination, I insisted, and was set on shore at last under the +wood of Lettermore (or Lettervore, for I have heard it both ways) in +Alan's country of Appin. + +This was a wood of birches, growing on a steep, craggy side of a +mountain that overhung the loch. It had many openings and ferny howes; +and a road or bridle track ran north and south through the midst of +it, by the edge of which, where was a spring, I sat down to eat some +oat-bread of Mr. Henderland's and think upon my situation. + +Here I was not only troubled by a cloud of stinging midges, but far more +by the doubts of my mind. What I ought to do, why I was going to join +myself with an outlaw and a would-be murderer like Alan, whether I +should not be acting more like a man of sense to tramp back to the south +country direct, by my own guidance and at my own charges, and what Mr. +Campbell or even Mr. Henderland would think of me if they should ever +learn my folly and presumption: these were the doubts that now began to +come in on me stronger than ever. + +As I was so sitting and thinking, a sound of men and horses came to me +through the wood; and presently after, at a turning of the road, I saw +four travellers come into view. The way was in this part so rough and +narrow that they came single and led their horses by the reins. The +first was a great, red-headed gentleman, of an imperious and flushed +face, who carried his hat in his hand and fanned himself, for he was in +a breathing heat. The second, by his decent black garb and white wig, +I correctly took to be a lawyer. The third was a servant, and wore some +part of his clothes in tartan, which showed that his master was of a +Highland family, and either an outlaw or else in singular good odour +with the Government, since the wearing of tartan was against the Act. If +I had been better versed in these things, I would have known the tartan +to be of the Argyle (or Campbell) colours. This servant had a good-sized +portmanteau strapped on his horse, and a net of lemons (to brew punch +with) hanging at the saddle-bow; as was often enough the custom with +luxurious travellers in that part of the country. + +As for the fourth, who brought up the tail, I had seen his like before, +and knew him at once to be a sheriff's officer. + +I had no sooner seen these people coming than I made up my mind (for no +reason that I can tell) to go through with my adventure; and when the +first came alongside of me, I rose up from the bracken and asked him the +way to Aucharn. + +He stopped and looked at me, as I thought, a little oddly; and then, +turning to the lawyer, "Mungo," said he, "there's many a man would think +this more of a warning than two pyats. Here am I on my road to Duror on +the job ye ken; and here is a young lad starts up out of the bracken, +and speers if I am on the way to Aucharn." + +"Glenure," said the other, "this is an ill subject for jesting." + +These two had now drawn close up and were gazing at me, while the two +followers had halted about a stone-cast in the rear. + +"And what seek ye in Aucharn?" said Colin Roy Campbell of Glenure, him +they called the Red Fox; for he it was that I had stopped. + +"The man that lives there," said I. + +"James of the Glens," says Glenure, musingly; and then to the lawyer: +"Is he gathering his people, think ye?" + +"Anyway," says the lawyer, "we shall do better to bide where we are, and +let the soldiers rally us." + +"If you are concerned for me," said I, "I am neither of his people nor +yours, but an honest subject of King George, owing no man and fearing no +man." + +"Why, very well said," replies the Factor. "But if I may make so bold as +ask, what does this honest man so far from his country? and why does +he come seeking the brother of Ardshiel? I have power here, I must tell +you. I am King's Factor upon several of these estates, and have twelve +files of soldiers at my back." + +"I have heard a waif word in the country," said I, a little nettled, +"that you were a hard man to drive." + +He still kept looking at me, as if in doubt. + +"Well," said he, at last, "your tongue is bold; but I am no unfriend to +plainness. If ye had asked me the way to the door of James Stewart on +any other day but this, I would have set ye right and bidden ye God +speed. But to-day--eh, Mungo?" And he turned again to look at the +lawyer. + +But just as he turned there came the shot of a firelock from higher up +the hill; and with the very sound of it Glenure fell upon the road. + +"O, I am dead!" he cried, several times over. + +The lawyer had caught him up and held him in his arms, the servant +standing over and clasping his hands. And now the wounded man looked +from one to another with scared eyes, and there was a change in his +voice, that went to the heart. + +"Take care of yourselves," says he. "I am dead." + +He tried to open his clothes as if to look for the wound, but his +fingers slipped on the buttons. With that he gave a great sigh, his head +rolled on his shoulder, and he passed away. + +The lawyer said never a word, but his face was as sharp as a pen and +as white as the dead man's; the servant broke out into a great noise of +crying and weeping, like a child; and I, on my side, stood staring at +them in a kind of horror. The sheriff's officer had run back at the +first sound of the shot, to hasten the coming of the soldiers. + +At last the lawyer laid down the dead man in his blood upon the road, +and got to his own feet with a kind of stagger. + +I believe it was his movement that brought me to my senses; for he had +no sooner done so than I began to scramble up the hill, crying out, "The +murderer! the murderer!" + +So little a time had elapsed, that when I got to the top of the first +steepness, and could see some part of the open mountain, the murderer +was still moving away at no great distance. He was a big man, in a black +coat, with metal buttons, and carried a long fowling-piece. + +"Here!" I cried. "I see him!" + +At that the murderer gave a little, quick look over his shoulder, and +began to run. The next moment he was lost in a fringe of birches; then +he came out again on the upper side, where I could see him climbing like +a jackanapes, for that part was again very steep; and then he dipped +behind a shoulder, and I saw him no more. + +All this time I had been running on my side, and had got a good way up, +when a voice cried upon me to stand. + +I was at the edge of the upper wood, and so now, when I halted and +looked back, I saw all the open part of the hill below me. + +The lawyer and the sheriff's officer were standing just above the road, +crying and waving on me to come back; and on their left, the red-coats, +musket in hand, were beginning to struggle singly out of the lower wood. + +"Why should I come back?" I cried. "Come you on!" + +"Ten pounds if ye take that lad!" cried the lawyer. "He's an accomplice. +He was posted here to hold us in talk." + +At that word (which I could hear quite plainly, though it was to the +soldiers and not to me that he was crying it) my heart came in my mouth +with quite a new kind of terror. Indeed, it is one thing to stand the +danger of your life, and quite another to run the peril of both life and +character. The thing, besides, had come so suddenly, like thunder out of +a clear sky, that I was all amazed and helpless. + +The soldiers began to spread, some of them to run, and others to put up +their pieces and cover me; and still I stood. + +"Jock* in here among the trees," said a voice close by. + + * Duck. + +Indeed, I scarce knew what I was doing, but I obeyed; and as I did so, I +heard the firelocks bang and the balls whistle in the birches. + +Just inside the shelter of the trees I found Alan Breck standing, with +a fishing-rod. He gave me no salutation; indeed it was no time for +civilities; only "Come!" says he, and set off running along the side of +the mountain towards Balachulish; and I, like a sheep, to follow him. + +Now we ran among the birches; now stooping behind low humps upon the +mountain-side; now crawling on all fours among the heather. The pace was +deadly: my heart seemed bursting against my ribs; and I had neither time +to think nor breath to speak with. Only I remember seeing with wonder, +that Alan every now and then would straighten himself to his full height +and look back; and every time he did so, there came a great far-away +cheering and crying of the soldiers. + +Quarter of an hour later, Alan stopped, clapped down flat in the +heather, and turned to me. + +"Now," said he, "it's earnest. Do as I do, for your life." + +And at the same speed, but now with infinitely more precaution, we +traced back again across the mountain-side by the same way that we had +come, only perhaps higher; till at last Alan threw himself down in the +upper wood of Lettermore, where I had found him at the first, and lay, +with his face in the bracken, panting like a dog. + +My own sides so ached, my head so swam, my tongue so hung out of my +mouth with heat and dryness, that I lay beside him like one dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +I TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE + +Alan was the first to come round. He rose, went to the border of the +wood, peered out a little, and then returned and sat down. + +"Well," said he, "yon was a hot burst, David." + +I said nothing, nor so much as lifted my face. I had seen murder done, +and a great, ruddy, jovial gentleman struck out of life in a moment; the +pity of that sight was still sore within me, and yet that was but a part +of my concern. Here was murder done upon the man Alan hated; here was +Alan skulking in the trees and running from the troops; and whether his +was the hand that fired or only the head that ordered, signified +but little. By my way of it, my only friend in that wild country was +blood-guilty in the first degree; I held him in horror; I could not look +upon his face; I would have rather lain alone in the rain on my cold +isle, than in that warm wood beside a murderer. + +"Are ye still wearied?" he asked again. + +"No," said I, still with my face in the bracken; "no, I am not wearied +now, and I can speak. You and me must twine,"* I said. "I liked you very +well, Alan, but your ways are not mine, and they're not God's: and the +short and the long of it is just that we must twine." + + * Part. + +"I will hardly twine from ye, David, without some kind of reason for +the same," said Alan, mighty gravely. "If ye ken anything against +my reputation, it's the least thing that ye should do, for old +acquaintance' sake, to let me hear the name of it; and if ye have only +taken a distaste to my society, it will be proper for me to judge if I'm +insulted." + +"Alan," said I, "what is the sense of this? Ye ken very well yon +Campbell-man lies in his blood upon the road." + +He was silent for a little; then says he, "Did ever ye hear tell of the +story of the Man and the Good People?"--by which he meant the fairies. + +"No," said I, "nor do I want to hear it." + +"With your permission, Mr. Balfour, I will tell it you, whatever," says +Alan. "The man, ye should ken, was cast upon a rock in the sea, where +it appears the Good People were in use to come and rest as they went +through to Ireland. The name of this rock is called the Skerryvore, and +it's not far from where we suffered ship-wreck. Well, it seems the man +cried so sore, if he could just see his little bairn before he died! +that at last the king of the Good People took peety upon him, and sent +one flying that brought back the bairn in a poke* and laid it down +beside the man where he lay sleeping. So when the man woke, there was a +poke beside him and something into the inside of it that moved. Well, it +seems he was one of these gentry that think aye the worst of things; and +for greater security, he stuck his dirk throughout that poke before he +opened it, and there was his bairn dead. I am thinking to myself, Mr. +Balfour, that you and the man are very much alike." + + * Bag. + +"Do you mean you had no hand in it?" cried I, sitting up. + +"I will tell you first of all, Mr. Balfour of Shaws, as one friend to +another," said Alan, "that if I were going to kill a gentleman, it would +not be in my own country, to bring trouble on my clan; and I would not +go wanting sword and gun, and with a long fishing-rod upon my back." + +"Well," said I, "that's true!" + +"And now," continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying his hand upon +it in a certain manner, "I swear upon the Holy Iron I had neither art +nor part, act nor thought in it." + +"I thank God for that!" cried I, and offered him my hand. + +He did not appear to see it. + +"And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell!" said he. "They are +not so scarce, that I ken!" + +"At least," said I, "you cannot justly blame me, for you know very +well what you told me in the brig. But the temptation and the act are +different, I thank God again for that. We may all be tempted; but +to take a life in cold blood, Alan!" And I could say no more for the +moment. "And do you know who did it?" I added. "Do you know that man in +the black coat?" + +"I have nae clear mind about his coat," said Alan cunningly, "but it +sticks in my head that it was blue." + +"Blue or black, did ye know him?" said I. + +"I couldnae just conscientiously swear to him," says Alan. "He gaed very +close by me, to be sure, but it's a strange thing that I should just +have been tying my brogues." + +"Can you swear that you don't know him, Alan?" I cried, half angered, +half in a mind to laugh at his evasions. + +"Not yet," says he; "but I've a grand memory for forgetting, David." + +"And yet there was one thing I saw clearly," said I; "and that was, that +you exposed yourself and me to draw the soldiers." + +"It's very likely," said Alan; "and so would any gentleman. You and me +were innocent of that transaction." + +"The better reason, since we were falsely suspected, that we should get +clear," I cried. "The innocent should surely come before the guilty." + +"Why, David," said he, "the innocent have aye a chance to get assoiled +in court; but for the lad that shot the bullet, I think the best place +for him will be the heather. Them that havenae dipped their hands in any +little difficulty, should be very mindful of the case of them that have. +And that is the good Christianity. For if it was the other way round +about, and the lad whom I couldnae just clearly see had been in our +shoes, and we in his (as might very well have been), I think we would be +a good deal obliged to him oursel's if he would draw the soldiers." + +When it came to this, I gave Alan up. But he looked so innocent all the +time, and was in such clear good faith in what he said, and so ready to +sacrifice himself for what he deemed his duty, that my mouth was closed. +Mr. Henderland's words came back to me: that we ourselves might take a +lesson by these wild Highlanders. Well, here I had taken mine. Alan's +morals were all tail-first; but he was ready to give his life for them, +such as they were. + +"Alan," said I, "I'll not say it's the good Christianity as I understand +it, but it's good enough. And here I offer ye my hand for the second +time." + +Whereupon he gave me both of his, saying surely I had cast a spell upon +him, for he could forgive me anything. Then he grew very grave, and said +we had not much time to throw away, but must both flee that country: he, +because he was a deserter, and the whole of Appin would now be searched +like a chamber, and every one obliged to give a good account of himself; +and I, because I was certainly involved in the murder. + +"O!" says I, willing to give him a little lesson, "I have no fear of the +justice of my country." + +"As if this was your country!" said he. "Or as if ye would be tried +here, in a country of Stewarts!" + +"It's all Scotland," said I. + +"Man, I whiles wonder at ye," said Alan. "This is a Campbell that's been +killed. Well, it'll be tried in Inverara, the Campbells' head place; +with fifteen Campbells in the jury-box and the biggest Campbell of all +(and that's the Duke) sitting cocking on the bench. Justice, David? +The same justice, by all the world, as Glenure found awhile ago at the +roadside." + +This frightened me a little, I confess, and would have frightened me +more if I had known how nearly exact were Alan's predictions; indeed +it was but in one point that he exaggerated, there being but eleven +Campbells on the jury; though as the other four were equally in the +Duke's dependence, it mattered less than might appear. Still, I cried +out that he was unjust to the Duke of Argyle, who (for all he was a +Whig) was yet a wise and honest nobleman. + +"Hoot!" said Alan, "the man's a Whig, nae doubt; but I would never deny +he was a good chieftain to his clan. And what would the clan think if +there was a Campbell shot, and naebody hanged, and their own chief +the Justice General? But I have often observed," says Alan, "that you +Low-country bodies have no clear idea of what's right and wrong." + +At this I did at last laugh out aloud, when to my surprise, Alan joined +in, and laughed as merrily as myself. + +"Na, na," said he, "we're in the Hielands, David; and when I tell ye +to run, take my word and run. Nae doubt it's a hard thing to skulk and +starve in the Heather, but it's harder yet to lie shackled in a red-coat +prison." + +I asked him whither we should flee; and as he told me "to the Lowlands," +I was a little better inclined to go with him; for, indeed, I was +growing impatient to get back and have the upper-hand of my uncle. +Besides, Alan made so sure there would be no question of justice in the +matter, that I began to be afraid he might be right. Of all deaths, I +would truly like least to die by the gallows; and the picture of that +uncanny instrument came into my head with extraordinary clearness (as I +had once seen it engraved at the top of a pedlar's ballad) and took away +my appetite for courts of justice. + +"I'll chance it, Alan," said I. "I'll go with you." + +"But mind you," said Alan, "it's no small thing. Ye maun lie bare and +hard, and brook many an empty belly. Your bed shall be the moorcock's, +and your life shall be like the hunted deer's, and ye shall sleep with +your hand upon your weapons. Ay, man, ye shall taigle many a weary foot, +or we get clear! I tell ye this at the start, for it's a life that I ken +well. But if ye ask what other chance ye have, I answer: Nane. Either +take to the heather with me, or else hang." + +"And that's a choice very easily made," said I; and we shook hands upon +it. + +"And now let's take another keek at the red-coats," says Alan, and he +led me to the north-eastern fringe of the wood. + +Looking out between the trees, we could see a great side of mountain, +running down exceeding steep into the waters of the loch. It was a rough +part, all hanging stone, and heather, and big scrogs of birchwood; and +away at the far end towards Balachulish, little wee red soldiers were +dipping up and down over hill and howe, and growing smaller every +minute. There was no cheering now, for I think they had other uses +for what breath was left them; but they still stuck to the trail, and +doubtless thought that we were close in front of them. + +Alan watched them, smiling to himself. + +"Ay," said he, "they'll be gey weary before they've got to the end of +that employ! And so you and me, David, can sit down and eat a bite, and +breathe a bit longer, and take a dram from my bottle. Then we'll strike +for Aucharn, the house of my kinsman, James of the Glens, where I must +get my clothes, and my arms, and money to carry us along; and then, +David, we'll cry, 'Forth, Fortune!' and take a cast among the heather." + +So we sat again and ate and drank, in a place whence we could see the +sun going down into a field of great, wild, and houseless mountains, +such as I was now condemned to wander in with my companion. Partly as +we so sat, and partly afterwards, on the way to Aucharn, each of us +narrated his adventures; and I shall here set down so much of Alan's as +seems either curious or needful. + +It appears he ran to the bulwarks as soon as the wave was passed; saw +me, and lost me, and saw me again, as I tumbled in the roost; and at +last had one glimpse of me clinging on the yard. It was this that put +him in some hope I would maybe get to land after all, and made him leave +those clues and messages which had brought me (for my sins) to that +unlucky country of Appin. + +In the meanwhile, those still on the brig had got the skiff launched, +and one or two were on board of her already, when there came a second +wave greater than the first, and heaved the brig out of her place, and +would certainly have sent her to the bottom, had she not struck and +caught on some projection of the reef. When she had struck first, it had +been bows-on, so that the stern had hitherto been lowest. But now her +stern was thrown in the air, and the bows plunged under the sea; and +with that, the water began to pour into the fore-scuttle like the +pouring of a mill-dam. + +It took the colour out of Alan's face, even to tell what followed. +For there were still two men lying impotent in their bunks; and these, +seeing the water pour in and thinking the ship had foundered, began to +cry out aloud, and that with such harrowing cries that all who were on +deck tumbled one after another into the skiff and fell to their oars. +They were not two hundred yards away, when there came a third great sea; +and at that the brig lifted clean over the reef; her canvas filled for +a moment, and she seemed to sail in chase of them, but settling all the +while; and presently she drew down and down, as if a hand was drawing +her; and the sea closed over the Covenant of Dysart. + +Never a word they spoke as they pulled ashore, being stunned with the +horror of that screaming; but they had scarce set foot upon the beach +when Hoseason woke up, as if out of a muse, and bade them lay hands upon +Alan. They hung back indeed, having little taste for the employment; +but Hoseason was like a fiend, crying that Alan was alone, that he had +a great sum about him, that he had been the means of losing the brig and +drowning all their comrades, and that here was both revenge and wealth +upon a single cast. It was seven against one; in that part of the shore +there was no rock that Alan could set his back to; and the sailors began +to spread out and come behind him. + +"And then," said Alan, "the little man with the red head--I havenae mind +of the name that he is called." + +"Riach," said I. + +"Ay" said Alan, "Riach! Well, it was him that took up the clubs for me, +asked the men if they werenae feared of a judgment, and, says he 'Dod, +I'll put my back to the Hielandman's mysel'.' That's none such an +entirely bad little man, yon little man with the red head," said Alan. +"He has some spunks of decency." + +"Well," said I, "he was kind to me in his way." + +"And so he was to Alan," said he; "and by my troth, I found his way a +very good one! But ye see, David, the loss of the ship and the cries of +these poor lads sat very ill upon the man; and I'm thinking that would +be the cause of it." + +"Well, I would think so," says I; "for he was as keen as any of the rest +at the beginning. But how did Hoseason take it?" + +"It sticks in my mind that he would take it very ill," says Alan. "But +the little man cried to me to run, and indeed I thought it was a good +observe, and ran. The last that I saw they were all in a knot upon the +beach, like folk that were not agreeing very well together." + +"What do you mean by that?" said I. + +"Well, the fists were going," said Alan; "and I saw one man go down like +a pair of breeks. But I thought it would be better no to wait. Ye see +there's a strip of Campbells in that end of Mull, which is no good +company for a gentleman like me. If it hadnae been for that I would have +waited and looked for ye mysel', let alone giving a hand to the little +man." (It was droll how Alan dwelt on Mr. Riach's stature, for, to say +the truth, the one was not much smaller than the other.) "So," says he, +continuing, "I set my best foot forward, and whenever I met in with any +one I cried out there was a wreck ashore. Man, they didnae stop to fash +with me! Ye should have seen them linking for the beach! And when they +got there they found they had had the pleasure of a run, which is aye +good for a Campbell. I'm thinking it was a judgment on the clan that the +brig went down in the lump and didnae break. But it was a very unlucky +thing for you, that same; for if any wreck had come ashore they would +have hunted high and low, and would soon have found ye." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE HOUSE OF FEAR + +Night fell as we were walking, and the clouds, which had broken up in +the afternoon, settled in and thickened, so that it fell, for the +season of the year, extremely dark. The way we went was over rough +mountainsides; and though Alan pushed on with an assured manner, I could +by no means see how he directed himself. + +At last, about half-past ten of the clock, we came to the top of a brae, +and saw lights below us. It seemed a house door stood open and let out a +beam of fire and candle-light; and all round the house and steading +five or six persons were moving hurriedly about, each carrying a lighted +brand. + +"James must have tint his wits," said Alan. "If this was the soldiers +instead of you and me, he would be in a bonny mess. But I dare say he'll +have a sentry on the road, and he would ken well enough no soldiers +would find the way that we came." + +Hereupon he whistled three times, in a particular manner. It was strange +to see how, at the first sound of it, all the moving torches came to +a stand, as if the bearers were affrighted; and how, at the third, the +bustle began again as before. + +Having thus set folks' minds at rest, we came down the brae, and were +met at the yard gate (for this place was like a well-doing farm) by +a tall, handsome man of more than fifty, who cried out to Alan in the +Gaelic. + +"James Stewart," said Alan, "I will ask ye to speak in Scotch, for here +is a young gentleman with me that has nane of the other. This is him," +he added, putting his arm through mine, "a young gentleman of the +Lowlands, and a laird in his country too, but I am thinking it will be +the better for his health if we give his name the go-by." + +James of the Glens turned to me for a moment, and greeted me courteously +enough; the next he had turned to Alan. + +"This has been a dreadful accident," he cried. "It will bring trouble on +the country." And he wrung his hands. + +"Hoots!" said Alan, "ye must take the sour with the sweet, man. Colin +Roy is dead, and be thankful for that!" + +"Ay" said James, "and by my troth, I wish he was alive again! It's all +very fine to blow and boast beforehand; but now it's done, Alan; and +who's to bear the wyte* of it? The accident fell out in Appin--mind ye +that, Alan; it's Appin that must pay; and I am a man that has a family." + + * Blame. + +While this was going on I looked about me at the servants. Some were on +ladders, digging in the thatch of the house or the farm buildings, +from which they brought out guns, swords, and different weapons of +war; others carried them away; and by the sound of mattock blows from +somewhere farther down the brae, I suppose they buried them. Though they +were all so busy, there prevailed no kind of order in their efforts; men +struggled together for the same gun and ran into each other with their +burning torches; and James was continually turning about from his talk +with Alan, to cry out orders which were apparently never understood. The +faces in the torchlight were like those of people overborne with hurry +and panic; and though none spoke above his breath, their speech sounded +both anxious and angry. + +It was about this time that a lassie came out of the house carrying +a pack or bundle; and it has often made me smile to think how Alan's +instinct awoke at the mere sight of it. + +"What's that the lassie has?" he asked. + +"We're just setting the house in order, Alan," said James, in his +frightened and somewhat fawning way. "They'll search Appin with candles, +and we must have all things straight. We're digging the bit guns and +swords into the moss, ye see; and these, I am thinking, will be your ain +French clothes. We'll be to bury them, I believe." + +"Bury my French clothes!" cried Alan. "Troth, no!" And he laid hold upon +the packet and retired into the barn to shift himself, recommending me +in the meanwhile to his kinsman. + +James carried me accordingly into the kitchen, and sat down with me at +table, smiling and talking at first in a very hospitable manner. But +presently the gloom returned upon him; he sat frowning and biting his +fingers; only remembered me from time to time; and then gave me but a +word or two and a poor smile, and back into his private terrors. His +wife sat by the fire and wept, with her face in her hands; his eldest +son was crouched upon the floor, running over a great mass of papers and +now and again setting one alight and burning it to the bitter end; all +the while a servant lass with a red face was rummaging about the room, +in a blind hurry of fear, and whimpering as she went; and every now and +again one of the men would thrust in his face from the yard, and cry for +orders. + +At last James could keep his seat no longer, and begged my permission to +be so unmannerly as walk about. "I am but poor company altogether, sir," +says he, "but I can think of nothing but this dreadful accident, and the +trouble it is like to bring upon quite innocent persons." + +A little after he observed his son burning a paper which he thought +should have been kept; and at that his excitement burst out so that it +was painful to witness. He struck the lad repeatedly. + +"Are you gone gyte?"* he cried. "Do you wish to hang your father?" and +forgetful of my presence, carried on at him a long time together in the +Gaelic, the young man answering nothing; only the wife, at the name of +hanging, throwing her apron over her face and sobbing out louder than +before. + + * Mad. + +This was all wretched for a stranger like myself to hear and see; and +I was right glad when Alan returned, looking like himself in his fine +French clothes, though (to be sure) they were now grown almost too +battered and withered to deserve the name of fine. I was then taken out +in my turn by another of the sons, and given that change of clothing of +which I had stood so long in need, and a pair of Highland brogues made +of deer-leather, rather strange at first, but after a little practice +very easy to the feet. + +By the time I came back Alan must have told his story; for it seemed +understood that I was to fly with him, and they were all busy upon our +equipment. They gave us each a sword and pistols, though I professed my +inability to use the former; and with these, and some ammunition, a bag +of oatmeal, an iron pan, and a bottle of right French brandy, we were +ready for the heather. Money, indeed, was lacking. I had about two +guineas left; Alan's belt having been despatched by another hand, that +trusty messenger had no more than seventeen-pence to his whole fortune; +and as for James, it appears he had brought himself so low with journeys +to Edinburgh and legal expenses on behalf of the tenants, that he could +only scrape together three-and-five-pence-halfpenny, the most of it in +coppers. + +"This'll no do," said Alan. + +"Ye must find a safe bit somewhere near by," said James, "and get word +sent to me. Ye see, ye'll have to get this business prettily off, Alan. +This is no time to be stayed for a guinea or two. They're sure to get +wind of ye, sure to seek ye, and by my way of it, sure to lay on ye the +wyte of this day's accident. If it falls on you, it falls on me that am +your near kinsman and harboured ye while ye were in the country. And if +it comes on me----" he paused, and bit his fingers, with a white face. +"It would be a painful thing for our friends if I was to hang," said he. + +"It would be an ill day for Appin," says Alan. + +"It's a day that sticks in my throat," said James. "O man, man, man--man +Alan! you and me have spoken like two fools!" he cried, striking his +hand upon the wall so that the house rang again. + +"Well, and that's true, too," said Alan; "and my friend from the +Lowlands here" (nodding at me) "gave me a good word upon that head, if I +would only have listened to him." + +"But see here," said James, returning to his former manner, "if they lay +me by the heels, Alan, it's then that you'll be needing the money. For +with all that I have said and that you have said, it will look very +black against the two of us; do ye mark that? Well, follow me out, and +ye'll, I'll see that I'll have to get a paper out against ye mysel'; +have to offer a reward for ye; ay, will I! It's a sore thing to do +between such near friends; but if I get the dirdum* of this dreadful +accident, I'll have to fend for myself, man. Do ye see that?" + + * Blame. + +He spoke with a pleading earnestness, taking Alan by the breast of the +coat. + +"Ay" said Alan, "I see that." + +"And ye'll have to be clear of the country, Alan--ay, and clear of +Scotland--you and your friend from the Lowlands, too. For I'll have to +paper your friend from the Lowlands. Ye see that, Alan--say that ye see +that!" + +I thought Alan flushed a bit. "This is unco hard on me that brought him +here, James," said he, throwing his head back. "It's like making me a +traitor!" + +"Now, Alan, man!" cried James. "Look things in the face! He'll be +papered anyway; Mungo Campbell'll be sure to paper him; what matters +if I paper him too? And then, Alan, I am a man that has a family." And +then, after a little pause on both sides, "And, Alan, it'll be a jury of +Campbells," said he. + +"There's one thing," said Alan, musingly, "that naebody kens his name." + +"Nor yet they shallnae, Alan! There's my hand on that," cried James, for +all the world as if he had really known my name and was foregoing some +advantage. "But just the habit he was in, and what he looked like, and +his age, and the like? I couldnae well do less." + +"I wonder at your father's son," cried Alan, sternly. "Would ye sell the +lad with a gift? Would ye change his clothes and then betray him?" + +"No, no, Alan," said James. "No, no: the habit he took off--the habit +Mungo saw him in." But I thought he seemed crestfallen; indeed, he was +clutching at every straw, and all the time, I dare say, saw the faces of +his hereditary foes on the bench, and in the jury-box, and the gallows +in the background. + +"Well, sir," says Alan, turning to me, "what say ye to that? Ye are here +under the safeguard of my honour; and it's my part to see nothing done +but what shall please you." + +"I have but one word to say," said I; "for to all this dispute I am a +perfect stranger. But the plain common-sense is to set the blame where +it belongs, and that is on the man who fired the shot. Paper him, as ye +call it, set the hunt on him; and let honest, innocent folk show their +faces in safety." But at this both Alan and James cried out in horror; +bidding me hold my tongue, for that was not to be thought of; and asking +me what the Camerons would think? (which confirmed me, it must have been +a Cameron from Mamore that did the act) and if I did not see that the +lad might be caught? "Ye havenae surely thought of that?" said they, +with such innocent earnestness, that my hands dropped at my side and I +despaired of argument. + +"Very well, then," said I, "paper me, if you please, paper Alan, paper +King George! We're all three innocent, and that seems to be what's +wanted. But at least, sir," said I to James, recovering from my little +fit of annoyance, "I am Alan's friend, and if I can be helpful to +friends of his, I will not stumble at the risk." + +I thought it best to put a fair face on my consent, for I saw Alan +troubled; and, besides (thinks I to myself), as soon as my back is +turned, they will paper me, as they call it, whether I consent or not. +But in this I saw I was wrong; for I had no sooner said the words, than +Mrs. Stewart leaped out of her chair, came running over to us, and wept +first upon my neck and then on Alan's, blessing God for our goodness to +her family. + +"As for you, Alan, it was no more than your bounden duty," she said. +"But for this lad that has come here and seen us at our worst, and seen +the goodman fleeching like a suitor, him that by rights should give his +commands like any king--as for you, my lad," she says, "my heart is wae +not to have your name, but I have your face; and as long as my heart +beats under my bosom, I will keep it, and think of it, and bless it." +And with that she kissed me, and burst once more into such sobbing, that +I stood abashed. + +"Hoot, hoot," said Alan, looking mighty silly. "The day comes unco soon +in this month of July; and to-morrow there'll be a fine to-do in Appin, +a fine riding of dragoons, and crying of 'Cruachan!'* and running of +red-coats; and it behoves you and me to the sooner be gone." + + * The rallying-word of the Campbells. + +Thereupon we said farewell, and set out again, bending somewhat +eastwards, in a fine mild dark night, and over much the same broken +country as before. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS + +Sometimes we walked, sometimes ran; and as it drew on to morning, walked +ever the less and ran the more. Though, upon its face, that country +appeared to be a desert, yet there were huts and houses of the people, +of which we must have passed more than twenty, hidden in quiet places of +the hills. When we came to one of these, Alan would leave me in the way, +and go himself and rap upon the side of the house and speak awhile at +the window with some sleeper awakened. This was to pass the news; which, +in that country, was so much of a duty that Alan must pause to attend to +it even while fleeing for his life; and so well attended to by others, +that in more than half of the houses where we called they had heard +already of the murder. In the others, as well as I could make out +(standing back at a distance and hearing a strange tongue), the news was +received with more of consternation than surprise. + +For all our hurry, day began to come in while we were still far from any +shelter. It found us in a prodigious valley, strewn with rocks and where +ran a foaming river. Wild mountains stood around it; there grew there +neither grass nor trees; and I have sometimes thought since then, that +it may have been the valley called Glencoe, where the massacre was in +the time of King William. But for the details of our itinerary, I am all +to seek; our way lying now by short cuts, now by great detours; our pace +being so hurried, our time of journeying usually by night; and the names +of such places as I asked and heard being in the Gaelic tongue and the +more easily forgotten. + +The first peep of morning, then, showed us this horrible place, and I +could see Alan knit his brow. + +"This is no fit place for you and me," he said. "This is a place they're +bound to watch." + +And with that he ran harder than ever down to the water-side, in a part +where the river was split in two among three rocks. It went through with +a horrid thundering that made my belly quake; and there hung over the +lynn a little mist of spray. Alan looked neither to the right nor to the +left, but jumped clean upon the middle rock and fell there on his hands +and knees to check himself, for that rock was small and he might have +pitched over on the far side. I had scarce time to measure the distance +or to understand the peril before I had followed him, and he had caught +and stopped me. + +So there we stood, side by side upon a small rock slippery with spray, +a far broader leap in front of us, and the river dinning upon all sides. +When I saw where I was, there came on me a deadly sickness of fear, +and I put my hand over my eyes. Alan took me and shook me; I saw he +was speaking, but the roaring of the falls and the trouble of my mind +prevented me from hearing; only I saw his face was red with anger, and +that he stamped upon the rock. The same look showed me the water raging +by, and the mist hanging in the air: and with that I covered my eyes +again and shuddered. + +The next minute Alan had set the brandy bottle to my lips, and forced +me to drink about a gill, which sent the blood into my head again. Then, +putting his hands to his mouth, and his mouth to my ear, he shouted, +"Hang or drown!" and turning his back upon me, leaped over the farther +branch of the stream, and landed safe. + +I was now alone upon the rock, which gave me the more room; the brandy +was singing in my ears; I had this good example fresh before me, and +just wit enough to see that if I did not leap at once, I should never +leap at all. I bent low on my knees and flung myself forth, with +that kind of anger of despair that has sometimes stood me in stead of +courage. Sure enough, it was but my hands that reached the full length; +these slipped, caught again, slipped again; and I was sliddering back +into the lynn, when Alan seized me, first by the hair, then by the +collar, and with a great strain dragged me into safety. + +Never a word he said, but set off running again for his life, and I must +stagger to my feet and run after him. I had been weary before, but now +I was sick and bruised, and partly drunken with the brandy; I kept +stumbling as I ran, I had a stitch that came near to overmaster me; and +when at last Alan paused under a great rock that stood there among a +number of others, it was none too soon for David Balfour. + +A great rock I have said; but by rights it was two rocks leaning +together at the top, both some twenty feet high, and at the first sight +inaccessible. Even Alan (though you may say he had as good as four +hands) failed twice in an attempt to climb them; and it was only at the +third trial, and then by standing on my shoulders and leaping up with +such force as I thought must have broken my collar-bone, that he secured +a lodgment. Once there, he let down his leathern girdle; and with the +aid of that and a pair of shallow footholds in the rock, I scrambled up +beside him. + +Then I saw why we had come there; for the two rocks, being both somewhat +hollow on the top and sloping one to the other, made a kind of dish or +saucer, where as many as three or four men might have lain hidden. + +All this while Alan had not said a word, and had run and climbed with +such a savage, silent frenzy of hurry, that I knew that he was in mortal +fear of some miscarriage. Even now we were on the rock he said nothing, +nor so much as relaxed the frowning look upon his face; but clapped flat +down, and keeping only one eye above the edge of our place of shelter +scouted all round the compass. The dawn had come quite clear; we could +see the stony sides of the valley, and its bottom, which was bestrewed +with rocks, and the river, which went from one side to another, and made +white falls; but nowhere the smoke of a house, nor any living creature +but some eagles screaming round a cliff. + +Then at last Alan smiled. + +"Ay" said he, "now we have a chance;" and then looking at me with some +amusement, "Ye're no very gleg* at the jumping," said he. + + * Brisk. + +At this I suppose I coloured with mortification, for he added at once, +"Hoots! small blame to ye! To be feared of a thing and yet to do it, is +what makes the prettiest kind of a man. And then there was water there, +and water's a thing that dauntons even me. No, no," said Alan, "it's no +you that's to blame, it's me." + +I asked him why. + +"Why," said he, "I have proved myself a gomeral this night. For first +of all I take a wrong road, and that in my own country of Appin; so that +the day has caught us where we should never have been; and thanks to +that, we lie here in some danger and mair discomfort. And next (which is +the worst of the two, for a man that has been so much among the heather +as myself) I have come wanting a water-bottle, and here we lie for a +long summer's day with naething but neat spirit. Ye may think that a +small matter; but before it comes night, David, ye'll give me news of +it." + +I was anxious to redeem my character, and offered, if he would pour out +the brandy, to run down and fill the bottle at the river. + +"I wouldnae waste the good spirit either," says he. "It's been a good +friend to you this night; or in my poor opinion, ye would still be +cocking on yon stone. And what's mair," says he, "ye may have observed +(you that's a man of so much penetration) that Alan Breck Stewart was +perhaps walking quicker than his ordinar'." + +"You!" I cried, "you were running fit to burst." + +"Was I so?" said he. "Well, then, ye may depend upon it, there was nae +time to be lost. And now here is enough said; gang you to your sleep, +lad, and I'll watch." + +Accordingly, I lay down to sleep; a little peaty earth had drifted in +between the top of the two rocks, and some bracken grew there, to be a +bed to me; the last thing I heard was still the crying of the eagles. + +I dare say it would be nine in the morning when I was roughly awakened, +and found Alan's hand pressed upon my mouth. + +"Wheesht!" he whispered. "Ye were snoring." + +"Well," said I, surprised at his anxious and dark face, "and why not?" + +He peered over the edge of the rock, and signed to me to do the like. + +It was now high day, cloudless, and very hot. The valley was as clear as +in a picture. About half a mile up the water was a camp of red-coats; a +big fire blazed in their midst, at which some were cooking; and near by, +on the top of a rock about as high as ours, there stood a sentry, with +the sun sparkling on his arms. All the way down along the river-side +were posted other sentries; here near together, there widelier +scattered; some planted like the first, on places of command, some +on the ground level and marching and counter-marching, so as to meet +half-way. Higher up the glen, where the ground was more open, the chain +of posts was continued by horse-soldiers, whom we could see in the +distance riding to and fro. Lower down, the infantry continued; but +as the stream was suddenly swelled by the confluence of a considerable +burn, they were more widely set, and only watched the fords and +stepping-stones. + +I took but one look at them, and ducked again into my place. It was +strange indeed to see this valley, which had lain so solitary in the +hour of dawn, bristling with arms and dotted with the red coats and +breeches. + +"Ye see," said Alan, "this was what I was afraid of, Davie: that they +would watch the burn-side. They began to come in about two hours ago, +and, man! but ye're a grand hand at the sleeping! We're in a narrow +place. If they get up the sides of the hill, they could easy spy us with +a glass; but if they'll only keep in the foot of the valley, we'll do +yet. The posts are thinner down the water; and, come night, we'll try +our hand at getting by them." + +"And what are we to do till night?" I asked. + +"Lie here," says he, "and birstle." + +That one good Scotch word, "birstle," was indeed the most of the story +of the day that we had now to pass. You are to remember that we lay on +the bare top of a rock, like scones upon a girdle; the sun beat upon us +cruelly; the rock grew so heated, a man could scarce endure the touch of +it; and the little patch of earth and fern, which kept cooler, was only +large enough for one at a time. We took turn about to lie on the naked +rock, which was indeed like the position of that saint that was martyred +on a gridiron; and it ran in my mind how strange it was, that in the +same climate and at only a few days' distance, I should have suffered +so cruelly, first from cold upon my island and now from heat upon this +rock. + +All the while we had no water, only raw brandy for a drink, which was +worse than nothing; but we kept the bottle as cool as we could, burying +it in the earth, and got some relief by bathing our breasts and temples. + +The soldiers kept stirring all day in the bottom of the valley, now +changing guard, now in patrolling parties hunting among the rocks. These +lay round in so great a number, that to look for men among them was like +looking for a needle in a bottle of hay; and being so hopeless a task, +it was gone about with the less care. Yet we could see the soldiers +pike their bayonets among the heather, which sent a cold thrill into my +vitals; and they would sometimes hang about our rock, so that we scarce +dared to breathe. + +It was in this way that I first heard the right English speech; one +fellow as he went by actually clapping his hand upon the sunny face of +the rock on which we lay, and plucking it off again with an oath. "I +tell you it's 'ot," says he; and I was amazed at the clipping tones and +the odd sing-song in which he spoke, and no less at that strange trick +of dropping out the letter "h." To be sure, I had heard Ransome; but he +had taken his ways from all sorts of people, and spoke so imperfectly +at the best, that I set down the most of it to childishness. My surprise +was all the greater to hear that manner of speaking in the mouth of a +grown man; and indeed I have never grown used to it; nor yet altogether +with the English grammar, as perhaps a very critical eye might here and +there spy out even in these memoirs. + +The tediousness and pain of these hours upon the rock grew only the +greater as the day went on; the rock getting still the hotter and the +sun fiercer. There were giddiness, and sickness, and sharp pangs like +rheumatism, to be supported. I minded then, and have often minded since, +on the lines in our Scotch psalm:-- + + "The moon by night thee shall not smite, + Nor yet the sun by day;" + +and indeed it was only by God's blessing that we were neither of us +sun-smitten. + +At last, about two, it was beyond men's bearing, and there was now +temptation to resist, as well as pain to thole. For the sun being now +got a little into the west, there came a patch of shade on the east side +of our rock, which was the side sheltered from the soldiers. + +"As well one death as another," said Alan, and slipped over the edge and +dropped on the ground on the shadowy side. + +I followed him at once, and instantly fell all my length, so weak was I +and so giddy with that long exposure. Here, then, we lay for an hour or +two, aching from head to foot, as weak as water, and lying quite naked +to the eye of any soldier who should have strolled that way. None came, +however, all passing by on the other side; so that our rock continued to +be our shield even in this new position. + +Presently we began again to get a little strength; and as the soldiers +were now lying closer along the river-side, Alan proposed that we should +try a start. I was by this time afraid of but one thing in the world; +and that was to be set back upon the rock; anything else was welcome +to me; so we got ourselves at once in marching order, and began to slip +from rock to rock one after the other, now crawling flat on our bellies +in the shade, now making a run for it, heart in mouth. + +The soldiers, having searched this side of the valley after a fashion, +and being perhaps somewhat sleepy with the sultriness of the afternoon, +had now laid by much of their vigilance, and stood dozing at their posts +or only kept a look-out along the banks of the river; so that in this +way, keeping down the valley and at the same time towards the mountains, +we drew steadily away from their neighbourhood. But the business was the +most wearing I had ever taken part in. A man had need of a hundred +eyes in every part of him, to keep concealed in that uneven country and +within cry of so many and scattered sentries. When we must pass an open +place, quickness was not all, but a swift judgment not only of the lie +of the whole country, but of the solidity of every stone on which we +must set foot; for the afternoon was now fallen so breathless that the +rolling of a pebble sounded abroad like a pistol shot, and would start +the echo calling among the hills and cliffs. + +By sundown we had made some distance, even by our slow rate of progress, +though to be sure the sentry on the rock was still plainly in our view. +But now we came on something that put all fears out of season; and that +was a deep rushing burn, that tore down, in that part, to join the glen +river. At the sight of this we cast ourselves on the ground and plunged +head and shoulders in the water; and I cannot tell which was the more +pleasant, the great shock as the cool stream went over us, or the greed +with which we drank of it. + +We lay there (for the banks hid us), drank again and again, bathed our +chests, let our wrists trail in the running water till they ached +with the chill; and at last, being wonderfully renewed, we got out the +meal-bag and made drammach in the iron pan. This, though it is but cold +water mingled with oatmeal, yet makes a good enough dish for a hungry +man; and where there are no means of making fire, or (as in our case) +good reason for not making one, it is the chief stand-by of those who +have taken to the heather. + +As soon as the shadow of the night had fallen, we set forth again, at +first with the same caution, but presently with more boldness, standing +our full height and stepping out at a good pace of walking. The way +was very intricate, lying up the steep sides of mountains and along the +brows of cliffs; clouds had come in with the sunset, and the night was +dark and cool; so that I walked without much fatigue, but in continual +fear of falling and rolling down the mountains, and with no guess at our +direction. + +The moon rose at last and found us still on the road; it was in its last +quarter, and was long beset with clouds; but after awhile shone out and +showed me many dark heads of mountains, and was reflected far underneath +us on the narrow arm of a sea-loch. + +At this sight we both paused: I struck with wonder to find myself so +high and walking (as it seemed to me) upon clouds; Alan to make sure of +his direction. + +Seemingly he was well pleased, and he must certainly have judged us +out of ear-shot of all our enemies; for throughout the rest of our +night-march he beguiled the way with whistling of many tunes, warlike, +merry, plaintive; reel tunes that made the foot go faster; tunes of my +own south country that made me fain to be home from my adventures; and +all these, on the great, dark, desert mountains, making company upon the +way. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH + +Early as day comes in the beginning of July, it was still dark when we +reached our destination, a cleft in the head of a great mountain, with a +water running through the midst, and upon the one hand a shallow cave +in a rock. Birches grew there in a thin, pretty wood, which a little +farther on was changed into a wood of pines. The burn was full of trout; +the wood of cushat-doves; on the open side of the mountain beyond, +whaups would be always whistling, and cuckoos were plentiful. From the +mouth of the cleft we looked down upon a part of Mamore, and on the +sea-loch that divides that country from Appin; and this from so great +a height as made it my continual wonder and pleasure to sit and behold +them. + +The name of the cleft was the Heugh of Corrynakiegh; and although from +its height and being so near upon the sea, it was often beset with +clouds, yet it was on the whole a pleasant place, and the five days we +lived in it went happily. + +We slept in the cave, making our bed of heather bushes which we cut for +that purpose, and covering ourselves with Alan's great-coat. There was a +low concealed place, in a turning of the glen, where we were so bold as +to make fire: so that we could warm ourselves when the clouds set in, +and cook hot porridge, and grill the little trouts that we caught with +our hands under the stones and overhanging banks of the burn. This was +indeed our chief pleasure and business; and not only to save our meal +against worse times, but with a rivalry that much amused us, we spent +a great part of our days at the water-side, stripped to the waist and +groping about or (as they say) guddling for these fish. The largest we +got might have been a quarter of a pound; but they were of good flesh +and flavour, and when broiled upon the coals, lacked only a little salt +to be delicious. + +In any by-time Alan must teach me to use my sword, for my ignorance +had much distressed him; and I think besides, as I had sometimes +the upper-hand of him in the fishing, he was not sorry to turn to an +exercise where he had so much the upper-hand of me. He made it somewhat +more of a pain than need have been, for he stormed at me all through the +lessons in a very violent manner of scolding, and would push me so close +that I made sure he must run me through the body. I was often tempted +to turn tail, but held my ground for all that, and got some profit of +my lessons; if it was but to stand on guard with an assured countenance, +which is often all that is required. So, though I could never in the +least please my master, I was not altogether displeased with myself. + +In the meanwhile, you are not to suppose that we neglected our chief +business, which was to get away. + +"It will be many a long day," Alan said to me on our first morning, +"before the red-coats think upon seeking Corrynakiegh; so now we must +get word sent to James, and he must find the siller for us." + +"And how shall we send that word?" says I. "We are here in a desert +place, which yet we dare not leave; and unless ye get the fowls of the +air to be your messengers, I see not what we shall be able to do." + +"Ay?" said Alan. "Ye're a man of small contrivance, David." + +Thereupon he fell in a muse, looking in the embers of the fire; and +presently, getting a piece of wood, he fashioned it in a cross, the four +ends of which he blackened on the coals. Then he looked at me a little +shyly. + +"Could ye lend me my button?" says he. "It seems a strange thing to ask +a gift again, but I own I am laith to cut another." + +I gave him the button; whereupon he strung it on a strip of his +great-coat which he had used to bind the cross; and tying in a little +sprig of birch and another of fir, he looked upon his work with +satisfaction. + +"Now," said he, "there is a little clachan" (what is called a hamlet +in the English) "not very far from Corrynakiegh, and it has the name of +Koalisnacoan. There there are living many friends of mine whom I could +trust with my life, and some that I am no just so sure of. Ye see, +David, there will be money set upon our heads; James himsel' is to set +money on them; and as for the Campbells, they would never spare siller +where there was a Stewart to be hurt. If it was otherwise, I would go +down to Koalisnacoan whatever, and trust my life into these people's +hands as lightly as I would trust another with my glove." + +"But being so?" said I. + +"Being so," said he, "I would as lief they didnae see me. There's bad +folk everywhere, and what's far worse, weak ones. So when it comes dark +again, I will steal down into that clachan, and set this that I have +been making in the window of a good friend of mine, John Breck Maccoll, +a bouman* of Appin's." + + *A bouman is a tenant who takes stock from the landlord and + shares with him the increase. + +"With all my heart," says I; "and if he finds it, what is he to think?" + +"Well," says Alan, "I wish he was a man of more penetration, for by my +troth I am afraid he will make little enough of it! But this is what +I have in my mind. This cross is something in the nature of the +crosstarrie, or fiery cross, which is the signal of gathering in our +clans; yet he will know well enough the clan is not to rise, for there +it is standing in his window, and no word with it. So he will say to +himsel', THE CLAN IS NOT TO RISE, BUT THERE IS SOMETHING. Then he will +see my button, and that was Duncan Stewart's. And then he will say to +himsel', THE SON OF DUNCAN IS IN THE HEATHER, AND HAS NEED OF ME." + +"Well," said I, "it may be. But even supposing so, there is a good deal +of heather between here and the Forth." + +"And that is a very true word," says Alan. "But then John Breck will see +the sprig of birch and the sprig of pine; and he will say to himsel' (if +he is a man of any penetration at all, which I misdoubt), ALAN WILL BE +LYING IN A WOOD WHICH IS BOTH OF PINES AND BIRCHES. Then he will think +to himsel', THAT IS NOT SO VERY RIFE HEREABOUT; and then he will come +and give us a look up in Corrynakiegh. And if he does not, David, the +devil may fly away with him, for what I care; for he will no be worth +the salt to his porridge." + +"Eh, man," said I, drolling with him a little, "you're very ingenious! +But would it not be simpler for you to write him a few words in black +and white?" + +"And that is an excellent observe, Mr. Balfour of Shaws," says Alan, +drolling with me; "and it would certainly be much simpler for me to +write to him, but it would be a sore job for John Breck to read it. He +would have to go to the school for two-three years; and it's possible we +might be wearied waiting on him." + +So that night Alan carried down his fiery cross and set it in the +bouman's window. He was troubled when he came back; for the dogs had +barked and the folk run out from their houses; and he thought he had +heard a clatter of arms and seen a red-coat come to one of the doors. On +all accounts we lay the next day in the borders of the wood and kept a +close look-out, so that if it was John Breck that came we might be ready +to guide him, and if it was the red-coats we should have time to get +away. + +About noon a man was to be spied, straggling up the open side of the +mountain in the sun, and looking round him as he came, from under his +hand. No sooner had Alan seen him than he whistled; the man turned and +came a little towards us: then Alan would give another "peep!" and the +man would come still nearer; and so by the sound of whistling, he was +guided to the spot where we lay. + +He was a ragged, wild, bearded man, about forty, grossly disfigured with +the small pox, and looked both dull and savage. Although his English +was very bad and broken, yet Alan (according to his very handsome use, +whenever I was by) would suffer him to speak no Gaelic. Perhaps the +strange language made him appear more backward than he really was; but +I thought he had little good-will to serve us, and what he had was the +child of terror. + +Alan would have had him carry a message to James; but the bouman would +hear of no message. "She was forget it," he said in his screaming voice; +and would either have a letter or wash his hands of us. + +I thought Alan would be gravelled at that, for we lacked the means of +writing in that desert. + +But he was a man of more resources than I knew; searched the wood until +he found the quill of a cushat-dove, which he shaped into a pen; made +himself a kind of ink with gunpowder from his horn and water from the +running stream; and tearing a corner from his French military commission +(which he carried in his pocket, like a talisman to keep him from the +gallows), he sat down and wrote as follows: + + +"DEAR KINSMAN,--Please send the money by the bearer to the place he kens +of. + +"Your affectionate cousin, + +"A. S." + + +This he intrusted to the bouman, who promised to make what manner of +speed he best could, and carried it off with him down the hill. + +He was three full days gone, but about five in the evening of the third, +we heard a whistling in the wood, which Alan answered; and presently the +bouman came up the water-side, looking for us, right and left. He seemed +less sulky than before, and indeed he was no doubt well pleased to have +got to the end of such a dangerous commission. + +He gave us the news of the country; that it was alive with red-coats; +that arms were being found, and poor folk brought in trouble daily; and +that James and some of his servants were already clapped in prison at +Fort William, under strong suspicion of complicity. It seemed it was +noised on all sides that Alan Breck had fired the shot; and there was a +bill issued for both him and me, with one hundred pounds reward. + +This was all as bad as could be; and the little note the bouman had +carried us from Mrs. Stewart was of a miserable sadness. In it she +besought Alan not to let himself be captured, assuring him, if he fell +in the hands of the troops, both he and James were no better than dead +men. The money she had sent was all that she could beg or borrow, and +she prayed heaven we could be doing with it. Lastly, she said, she +enclosed us one of the bills in which we were described. + +This we looked upon with great curiosity and not a little fear, partly +as a man may look in a mirror, partly as he might look into the barrel +of an enemy's gun to judge if it be truly aimed. Alan was advertised as +"a small, pock-marked, active man of thirty-five or thereby, dressed +in a feathered hat, a French side-coat of blue with silver buttons, +and lace a great deal tarnished, a red waistcoat and breeches of black, +shag;" and I as "a tall strong lad of about eighteen, wearing an +old blue coat, very ragged, an old Highland bonnet, a long homespun +waistcoat, blue breeches; his legs bare, low-country shoes, wanting the +toes; speaks like a Lowlander, and has no beard." + +Alan was well enough pleased to see his finery so fully remembered and +set down; only when he came to the word tarnish, he looked upon his lace +like one a little mortified. As for myself, I thought I cut a miserable +figure in the bill; and yet was well enough pleased too, for since I had +changed these rags, the description had ceased to be a danger and become +a source of safety. + +"Alan," said I, "you should change your clothes." + +"Na, troth!" said Alan, "I have nae others. A fine sight I would be, if +I went back to France in a bonnet!" + +This put a second reflection in my mind: that if I were to separate +from Alan and his tell-tale clothes I should be safe against arrest, and +might go openly about my business. Nor was this all; for suppose I was +arrested when I was alone, there was little against me; but suppose I +was taken in company with the reputed murderer, my case would begin to +be grave. For generosity's sake I dare not speak my mind upon this head; +but I thought of it none the less. + +I thought of it all the more, too, when the bouman brought out a green +purse with four guineas in gold, and the best part of another in small +change. True, it was more than I had. But then Alan, with less than +five guineas, had to get as far as France; I, with my less than two, not +beyond Queensferry; so that taking things in their proportion, Alan's +society was not only a peril to my life, but a burden on my purse. + +But there was no thought of the sort in the honest head of my companion. +He believed he was serving, helping, and protecting me. And what could I +do but hold my peace, and chafe, and take my chance of it? + +"It's little enough," said Alan, putting the purse in his pocket, "but +it'll do my business. And now, John Breck, if ye will hand me over my +button, this gentleman and me will be for taking the road." + +But the bouman, after feeling about in a hairy purse that hung in front +of him in the Highland manner (though he wore otherwise the Lowland +habit, with sea-trousers), began to roll his eyes strangely, and at last +said, "Her nainsel will loss it," meaning he thought he had lost it. + +"What!" cried Alan, "you will lose my button, that was my father's +before me? Now I will tell you what is in my mind, John Breck: it is +in my mind this is the worst day's work that ever ye did since ye was +born." + +And as Alan spoke, he set his hands on his knees and looked at the +bouman with a smiling mouth, and that dancing light in his eyes that +meant mischief to his enemies. + +Perhaps the bouman was honest enough; perhaps he had meant to cheat and +then, finding himself alone with two of us in a desert place, cast back +to honesty as being safer; at least, and all at once, he seemed to find +that button and handed it to Alan. + +"Well, and it is a good thing for the honour of the Maccolls," said +Alan, and then to me, "Here is my button back again, and I thank you for +parting with it, which is of a piece with all your friendships to me." +Then he took the warmest parting of the bouman. "For," says he, "ye have +done very well by me, and set your neck at a venture, and I will always +give you the name of a good man." + +Lastly, the bouman took himself off by one way; and Alan and I (getting our +chattels together) struck into another to resume our flight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR + +Some seven hours' incessant, hard travelling brought us early in the +morning to the end of a range of mountains. In front of us there lay a +piece of low, broken, desert land, which we must now cross. The sun was +not long up, and shone straight in our eyes; a little, thin mist went up +from the face of the moorland like a smoke; so that (as Alan said) there +might have been twenty squadron of dragoons there and we none the wiser. + +We sat down, therefore, in a howe of the hill-side till the mist should +have risen, and made ourselves a dish of drammach, and held a council of +war. + +"David," said Alan, "this is the kittle bit. Shall we lie here till it +comes night, or shall we risk it, and stave on ahead?" + +"Well," said I, "I am tired indeed, but I could walk as far again, if +that was all." + +"Ay, but it isnae," said Alan, "nor yet the half. This is how we stand: +Appin's fair death to us. To the south it's all Campbells, and no to be +thought of. To the north; well, there's no muckle to be gained by going +north; neither for you, that wants to get to Queensferry, nor yet for +me, that wants to get to France. Well, then, we'll can strike east." + +"East be it!" says I, quite cheerily; but I was thinking in to myself: +"O, man, if you would only take one point of the compass and let me take +any other, it would be the best for both of us." + +"Well, then, east, ye see, we have the muirs," said Alan. "Once there, +David, it's mere pitch-and-toss. Out on yon bald, naked, flat place, +where can a body turn to? Let the red-coats come over a hill, they can +spy you miles away; and the sorrow's in their horses' heels, they would +soon ride you down. It's no good place, David; and I'm free to say, it's +worse by daylight than by dark." + +"Alan," said I, "hear my way of it. Appin's death for us; we have none +too much money, nor yet meal; the longer they seek, the nearer they +may guess where we are; it's all a risk; and I give my word to go ahead +until we drop." + +Alan was delighted. "There are whiles," said he, "when ye are altogether +too canny and Whiggish to be company for a gentleman like me; but there +come other whiles when ye show yoursel' a mettle spark; and it's then, +David, that I love ye like a brother." + +The mist rose and died away, and showed us that country lying as waste +as the sea; only the moorfowl and the pewees crying upon it, and far +over to the east, a herd of deer, moving like dots. Much of it was red +with heather; much of the rest broken up with bogs and hags and peaty +pools; some had been burnt black in a heath fire; and in another place +there was quite a forest of dead firs, standing like skeletons. A +wearier-looking desert man never saw; but at least it was clear of +troops, which was our point. + +We went down accordingly into the waste, and began to make our toilsome +and devious travel towards the eastern verge. There were the tops of +mountains all round (you are to remember) from whence we might be spied +at any moment; so it behoved us to keep in the hollow parts of the moor, +and when these turned aside from our direction to move upon its naked +face with infinite care. Sometimes, for half an hour together, we must +crawl from one heather bush to another, as hunters do when they are hard +upon the deer. It was a clear day again, with a blazing sun; the water +in the brandy bottle was soon gone; and altogether, if I had guessed +what it would be to crawl half the time upon my belly and to walk much +of the rest stooping nearly to the knees, I should certainly have held +back from such a killing enterprise. + +Toiling and resting and toiling again, we wore away the morning; and +about noon lay down in a thick bush of heather to sleep. Alan took the +first watch; and it seemed to me I had scarce closed my eyes before I +was shaken up to take the second. We had no clock to go by; and Alan +stuck a sprig of heath in the ground to serve instead; so that as soon +as the shadow of the bush should fall so far to the east, I might know +to rouse him. But I was by this time so weary that I could have slept +twelve hours at a stretch; I had the taste of sleep in my throat; my +joints slept even when my mind was waking; the hot smell of the heather, +and the drone of the wild bees, were like possets to me; and every now +and again I would give a jump and find I had been dozing. + +The last time I woke I seemed to come back from farther away, and +thought the sun had taken a great start in the heavens. I looked at the +sprig of heath, and at that I could have cried aloud: for I saw I had +betrayed my trust. My head was nearly turned with fear and shame; and at +what I saw, when I looked out around me on the moor, my heart was like +dying in my body. For sure enough, a body of horse-soldiers had come +down during my sleep, and were drawing near to us from the south-east, +spread out in the shape of a fan and riding their horses to and fro in +the deep parts of the heather. + +When I waked Alan, he glanced first at the soldiers, then at the mark +and the position of the sun, and knitted his brows with a sudden, quick +look, both ugly and anxious, which was all the reproach I had of him. + +"What are we to do now?" I asked. + +"We'll have to play at being hares," said he. "Do ye see yon mountain?" +pointing to one on the north-eastern sky. + +"Ay," said I. + +"Well, then," says he, "let us strike for that. Its name is Ben Alder. +it is a wild, desert mountain full of hills and hollows, and if we can +win to it before the morn, we may do yet." + +"But, Alan," cried I, "that will take us across the very coming of the +soldiers!" + +"I ken that fine," said he; "but if we are driven back on Appin, we are +two dead men. So now, David man, be brisk!" + +With that he began to run forward on his hands and knees with an +incredible quickness, as though it were his natural way of going. All +the time, too, he kept winding in and out in the lower parts of the +moorland where we were the best concealed. Some of these had been burned +or at least scathed with fire; and there rose in our faces (which were +close to the ground) a blinding, choking dust as fine as smoke. The +water was long out; and this posture of running on the hands and knees +brings an overmastering weakness and weariness, so that the joints ache +and the wrists faint under your weight. + +Now and then, indeed, where was a big bush of heather, we lay awhile, +and panted, and putting aside the leaves, looked back at the dragoons. +They had not spied us, for they held straight on; a half-troop, I think, +covering about two miles of ground, and beating it mighty thoroughly as +they went. I had awakened just in time; a little later, and we must have +fled in front of them, instead of escaping on one side. Even as it was, +the least misfortune might betray us; and now and again, when a grouse +rose out of the heather with a clap of wings, we lay as still as the +dead and were afraid to breathe. + +The aching and faintness of my body, the labouring of my heart, the +soreness of my hands, and the smarting of my throat and eyes in the +continual smoke of dust and ashes, had soon grown to be so unbearable +that I would gladly have given up. Nothing but the fear of Alan lent me +enough of a false kind of courage to continue. As for himself (and you +are to bear in mind that he was cumbered with a great-coat) he had first +turned crimson, but as time went on the redness began to be mingled +with patches of white; his breath cried and whistled as it came; and his +voice, when he whispered his observations in my ear during our halts, +sounded like nothing human. Yet he seemed in no way dashed in spirits, +nor did he at all abate in his activity, so that I was driven to marvel +at the man's endurance. + +At length, in the first gloaming of the night, we heard a trumpet sound, +and looking back from among the heather, saw the troop beginning to +collect. A little after, they had built a fire and camped for the night, +about the middle of the waste. + +At this I begged and besought that we might lie down and sleep. + +"There shall be no sleep the night!" said Alan. "From now on, these +weary dragoons of yours will keep the crown of the muirland, and none +will get out of Appin but winged fowls. We got through in the nick +of time, and shall we jeopard what we've gained? Na, na, when the day +comes, it shall find you and me in a fast place on Ben Alder." + +"Alan," I said, "it's not the want of will: it's the strength that I +want. If I could, I would; but as sure as I'm alive I cannot." + +"Very well, then," said Alan. "I'll carry ye." + +I looked to see if he were jesting; but no, the little man was in dead +earnest; and the sight of so much resolution shamed me. + +"Lead away!" said I. "I'll follow." + +He gave me one look as much as to say, "Well done, David!" and off he +set again at his top speed. + +It grew cooler and even a little darker (but not much) with the coming +of the night. The sky was cloudless; it was still early in July, and +pretty far north; in the darkest part of that night, you would have +needed pretty good eyes to read, but for all that, I have often seen it +darker in a winter mid-day. Heavy dew fell and drenched the moor like +rain; and this refreshed me for a while. When we stopped to breathe, +and I had time to see all about me, the clearness and sweetness of +the night, the shapes of the hills like things asleep, and the fire +dwindling away behind us, like a bright spot in the midst of the moor, +anger would come upon me in a clap that I must still drag myself in +agony and eat the dust like a worm. + +By what I have read in books, I think few that have held a pen were ever +really wearied, or they would write of it more strongly. I had no care +of my life, neither past nor future, and I scarce remembered there was +such a lad as David Balfour. I did not think of myself, but just of each +fresh step which I was sure would be my last, with despair--and of Alan, +who was the cause of it, with hatred. Alan was in the right trade as a +soldier; this is the officer's part to make men continue to do things, +they know not wherefore, and when, if the choice was offered, they would +lie down where they were and be killed. And I dare say I would have made +a good enough private; for in these last hours it never occurred to me +that I had any choice but just to obey as long as I was able, and die +obeying. + +Day began to come in, after years, I thought; and by that time we were +past the greatest danger, and could walk upon our feet like men, instead +of crawling like brutes. But, dear heart have mercy! what a pair we must +have made, going double like old grandfathers, stumbling like babes, +and as white as dead folk. Never a word passed between us; each set his +mouth and kept his eyes in front of him, and lifted up his foot and set +it down again, like people lifting weights at a country play;* all the +while, with the moorfowl crying "peep!" in the heather, and the light +coming slowly clearer in the east. + + * Village fair. + +I say Alan did as I did. Not that ever I looked at him, for I had enough +ado to keep my feet; but because it is plain he must have been as stupid +with weariness as myself, and looked as little where we were going, or +we should not have walked into an ambush like blind men. + +It fell in this way. We were going down a heathery brae, Alan leading +and I following a pace or two behind, like a fiddler and his wife; when +upon a sudden the heather gave a rustle, three or four ragged men leaped +out, and the next moment we were lying on our backs, each with a dirk at +his throat. + +I don't think I cared; the pain of this rough handling was quite +swallowed up by the pains of which I was already full; and I was too +glad to have stopped walking to mind about a dirk. I lay looking up in +the face of the man that held me; and I mind his face was black with the +sun, and his eyes very light, but I was not afraid of him. I heard Alan +and another whispering in the Gaelic; and what they said was all one to +me. + +Then the dirks were put up, our weapons were taken away, and we were set +face to face, sitting in the heather. + +"They are Cluny's men," said Alan. "We couldnae have fallen better. +We're just to bide here with these, which are his out-sentries, till +they can get word to the chief of my arrival." + +Now Cluny Macpherson, the chief of the clan Vourich, had been one of the +leaders of the great rebellion six years before; there was a price on +his life; and I had supposed him long ago in France, with the rest of +the heads of that desperate party. Even tired as I was, the surprise of +what I heard half wakened me. + +"What," I cried, "is Cluny still here?" + +"Ay, is he so!" said Alan. "Still in his own country and kept by his own +clan. King George can do no more." + +I think I would have asked farther, but Alan gave me the put-off. "I am +rather wearied," he said, "and I would like fine to get a sleep." And +without more words, he rolled on his face in a deep heather bush, and +seemed to sleep at once. + +There was no such thing possible for me. You have heard grasshoppers +whirring in the grass in the summer time? Well, I had no sooner closed +my eyes, than my body, and above all my head, belly, and wrists, seemed +to be filled with whirring grasshoppers; and I must open my eyes again +at once, and tumble and toss, and sit up and lie down; and look at the +sky which dazzled me, or at Cluny's wild and dirty sentries, peering out +over the top of the brae and chattering to each other in the Gaelic. + +That was all the rest I had, until the messenger returned; when, as it +appeared that Cluny would be glad to receive us, we must get once more +upon our feet and set forward. Alan was in excellent good spirits, much +refreshed by his sleep, very hungry, and looking pleasantly forward to +a dram and a dish of hot collops, of which, it seems, the messenger had +brought him word. For my part, it made me sick to hear of eating. I had +been dead-heavy before, and now I felt a kind of dreadful lightness, +which would not suffer me to walk. I drifted like a gossamer; the ground +seemed to me a cloud, the hills a feather-weight, the air to have a +current, like a running burn, which carried me to and fro. With all +that, a sort of horror of despair sat on my mind, so that I could have +wept at my own helplessness. + +I saw Alan knitting his brows at me, and supposed it was in anger; and +that gave me a pang of light-headed fear, like what a child may have. I +remember, too, that I was smiling, and could not stop smiling, hard as +I tried; for I thought it was out of place at such a time. But my good +companion had nothing in his mind but kindness; and the next moment, +two of the gillies had me by the arms, and I began to be carried forward +with great swiftness (or so it appeared to me, although I dare say it +was slowly enough in truth), through a labyrinth of dreary glens and +hollows and into the heart of that dismal mountain of Ben Alder. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +CLUNY'S CAGE + +We came at last to the foot of an exceeding steep wood, which scrambled +up a craggy hillside, and was crowned by a naked precipice. + +"It's here," said one of the guides, and we struck up hill. + +The trees clung upon the slope, like sailors on the shrouds of a ship, +and their trunks were like the rounds of a ladder, by which we mounted. + +Quite at the top, and just before the rocky face of the cliff sprang +above the foliage, we found that strange house which was known in the +country as "Cluny's Cage." The trunks of several trees had been wattled +across, the intervals strengthened with stakes, and the ground behind +this barricade levelled up with earth to make the floor. A tree, which +grew out from the hillside, was the living centre-beam of the roof. +The walls were of wattle and covered with moss. The whole house had +something of an egg shape; and it half hung, half stood in that steep, +hillside thicket, like a wasp's nest in a green hawthorn. + +Within, it was large enough to shelter five or six persons with some +comfort. A projection of the cliff had been cunningly employed to be the +fireplace; and the smoke rising against the face of the rock, and being +not dissimilar in colour, readily escaped notice from below. + +This was but one of Cluny's hiding-places; he had caves, besides, and +underground chambers in several parts of his country; and following the +reports of his scouts, he moved from one to another as the soldiers +drew near or moved away. By this manner of living, and thanks to the +affection of his clan, he had not only stayed all this time in safety, +while so many others had fled or been taken and slain: but stayed four +or five years longer, and only went to France at last by the express +command of his master. There he soon died; and it is strange to reflect +that he may have regretted his Cage upon Ben Alder. + +When we came to the door he was seated by his rock chimney, watching a +gillie about some cookery. He was mighty plainly habited, with a knitted +nightcap drawn over his ears, and smoked a foul cutty pipe. For all that +he had the manners of a king, and it was quite a sight to see him rise +out of his place to welcome us. + +"Well, Mr. Stewart, come awa', sir!" said he, "and bring in your friend +that as yet I dinna ken the name of." + +"And how is yourself, Cluny?" said Alan. "I hope ye do brawly, sir. And +I am proud to see ye, and to present to ye my friend the Laird of Shaws, +Mr. David Balfour." + +Alan never referred to my estate without a touch of a sneer, when we +were alone; but with strangers, he rang the words out like a herald. + +"Step in by, the both of ye, gentlemen," says Cluny. "I make ye welcome +to my house, which is a queer, rude place for certain, but one where I +have entertained a royal personage, Mr. Stewart--ye doubtless ken the +personage I have in my eye. We'll take a dram for luck, and as soon as +this handless man of mine has the collops ready, we'll dine and take a +hand at the cartes as gentlemen should. My life is a bit driegh," says +he, pouring out the brandy; "I see little company, and sit and twirl my +thumbs, and mind upon a great day that is gone by, and weary for another +great day that we all hope will be upon the road. And so here's a toast +to ye: The Restoration!" + +Thereupon we all touched glasses and drank. I am sure I wished no ill +to King George; and if he had been there himself in proper person, it's +like he would have done as I did. No sooner had I taken out the drain +than I felt hugely better, and could look on and listen, still a little +mistily perhaps, but no longer with the same groundless horror and +distress of mind. + +It was certainly a strange place, and we had a strange host. In his long +hiding, Cluny had grown to have all manner of precise habits, like those +of an old maid. He had a particular place, where no one else must sit; +the Cage was arranged in a particular way, which none must disturb; +cookery was one of his chief fancies, and even while he was greeting us +in, he kept an eye to the collops. + +It appears, he sometimes visited or received visits from his wife and +one or two of his nearest friends, under the cover of night; but for the +more part lived quite alone, and communicated only with his sentinels +and the gillies that waited on him in the Cage. The first thing in the +morning, one of them, who was a barber, came and shaved him, and gave +him the news of the country, of which he was immoderately greedy. There +was no end to his questions; he put them as earnestly as a child; and +at some of the answers, laughed out of all bounds of reason, and would +break out again laughing at the mere memory, hours after the barber was +gone. + +To be sure, there might have been a purpose in his questions; for +though he was thus sequestered, and like the other landed gentlemen of +Scotland, stripped by the late Act of Parliament of legal powers, he +still exercised a patriarchal justice in his clan. Disputes were brought +to him in his hiding-hole to be decided; and the men of his country, +who would have snapped their fingers at the Court of Session, laid +aside revenge and paid down money at the bare word of this forfeited and +hunted outlaw. When he was angered, which was often enough, he gave +his commands and breathed threats of punishment like any king; and his +gillies trembled and crouched away from him like children before a hasty +father. With each of them, as he entered, he ceremoniously shook hands, +both parties touching their bonnets at the same time in a military +manner. Altogether, I had a fair chance to see some of the inner +workings of a Highland clan; and this with a proscribed, fugitive chief; +his country conquered; the troops riding upon all sides in quest of +him, sometimes within a mile of where he lay; and when the least of the +ragged fellows whom he rated and threatened, could have made a fortune +by betraying him. + +On that first day, as soon as the collops were ready, Cluny gave them +with his own hand a squeeze of a lemon (for he was well supplied with +luxuries) and bade us draw in to our meal. + +"They," said he, meaning the collops, "are such as I gave his Royal +Highness in this very house; bating the lemon juice, for at that time we +were glad to get the meat and never fashed for kitchen.* Indeed, there +were mair dragoons than lemons in my country in the year forty-six." + + * Condiment. + +I do not know if the collops were truly very good, but my heart rose +against the sight of them, and I could eat but little. All the while +Cluny entertained us with stories of Prince Charlie's stay in the Cage, +giving us the very words of the speakers, and rising from his place +to show us where they stood. By these, I gathered the Prince was a +gracious, spirited boy, like the son of a race of polite kings, but not +so wise as Solomon. I gathered, too, that while he was in the Cage, he +was often drunk; so the fault that has since, by all accounts, made such +a wreck of him, had even then begun to show itself. + +We were no sooner done eating than Cluny brought out an old, thumbed, +greasy pack of cards, such as you may find in a mean inn; and his eyes +brightened in his face as he proposed that we should fall to playing. + +Now this was one of the things I had been brought up to eschew like +disgrace; it being held by my father neither the part of a Christian +nor yet of a gentleman to set his own livelihood and fish for that of +others, on the cast of painted pasteboard. To be sure, I might have +pleaded my fatigue, which was excuse enough; but I thought it behoved +that I should bear a testimony. I must have got very red in the face, +but I spoke steadily, and told them I had no call to be a judge +of others, but for my own part, it was a matter in which I had no +clearness. + +Cluny stopped mingling the cards. "What in deil's name is this?" says +he. "What kind of Whiggish, canting talk is this, for the house of Cluny +Macpherson?" + +"I will put my hand in the fire for Mr. Balfour," says Alan. "He is an +honest and a mettle gentleman, and I would have ye bear in mind who says +it. I bear a king's name," says he, cocking his hat; "and I and any that +I call friend are company for the best. But the gentleman is tired, and +should sleep; if he has no mind to the cartes, it will never hinder you +and me. And I'm fit and willing, sir, to play ye any game that ye can +name." + +"Sir," says Cluny, "in this poor house of mine I would have you to ken +that any gentleman may follow his pleasure. If your friend would like to +stand on his head, he is welcome. And if either he, or you, or any other +man, is not preceesely satisfied, I will be proud to step outside with +him." + +I had no will that these two friends should cut their throats for my +sake. + +"Sir," said I, "I am very wearied, as Alan says; and what's more, as +you are a man that likely has sons of your own, I may tell you it was a +promise to my father." + +"Say nae mair, say nae mair," said Cluny, and pointed me to a bed of +heather in a corner of the Cage. For all that he was displeased enough, +looked at me askance, and grumbled when he looked. And indeed it must +be owned that both my scruples and the words in which I declared them, +smacked somewhat of the Covenanter, and were little in their place among +wild Highland Jacobites. + +What with the brandy and the venison, a strange heaviness had come over +me; and I had scarce lain down upon the bed before I fell into a kind +of trance, in which I continued almost the whole time of our stay in the +Cage. Sometimes I was broad awake and understood what passed; sometimes +I only heard voices, or men snoring, like the voice of a silly river; +and the plaids upon the wall dwindled down and swelled out again, like +firelight shadows on the roof. I must sometimes have spoken or cried +out, for I remember I was now and then amazed at being answered; yet +I was conscious of no particular nightmare, only of a general, black, +abiding horror--a horror of the place I was in, and the bed I lay in, +and the plaids on the wall, and the voices, and the fire, and myself. + +The barber-gillie, who was a doctor too, was called in to prescribe +for me; but as he spoke in the Gaelic, I understood not a word of his +opinion, and was too sick even to ask for a translation. I knew well +enough I was ill, and that was all I cared about. + +I paid little heed while I lay in this poor pass. But Alan and Cluny +were most of the time at the cards, and I am clear that Alan must have +begun by winning; for I remember sitting up, and seeing them hard at it, +and a great glittering pile of as much as sixty or a hundred guineas on +the table. It looked strange enough, to see all this wealth in a nest +upon a cliff-side, wattled about growing trees. And even then, I +thought it seemed deep water for Alan to be riding, who had no better +battle-horse than a green purse and a matter of five pounds. + +The luck, it seems, changed on the second day. About noon I was wakened +as usual for dinner, and as usual refused to eat, and was given a dram +with some bitter infusion which the barber had prescribed. The sun was +shining in at the open door of the Cage, and this dazzled and offended +me. Cluny sat at the table, biting the pack of cards. Alan had stooped +over the bed, and had his face close to my eyes; to which, troubled as +they were with the fever, it seemed of the most shocking bigness. + +He asked me for a loan of my money. + +"What for?" said I. + +"O, just for a loan," said he. + +"But why?" I repeated. "I don't see." + +"Hut, David!" said Alan, "ye wouldnae grudge me a loan?" + +I would, though, if I had had my senses! But all I thought of then was +to get his face away, and I handed him my money. + +On the morning of the third day, when we had been forty-eight hours in +the Cage, I awoke with a great relief of spirits, very weak and weary +indeed, but seeing things of the right size and with their honest, +everyday appearance. I had a mind to eat, moreover, rose from bed of my +own movement, and as soon as we had breakfasted, stepped to the entry of +the Cage and sat down outside in the top of the wood. It was a grey day +with a cool, mild air: and I sat in a dream all morning, only disturbed +by the passing by of Cluny's scouts and servants coming with provisions +and reports; for as the coast was at that time clear, you might almost +say he held court openly. + +When I returned, he and Alan had laid the cards aside, and were +questioning a gillie; and the chief turned about and spoke to me in the +Gaelic. + +"I have no Gaelic, sir," said I. + +Now since the card question, everything I said or did had the power of +annoying Cluny. "Your name has more sense than yourself, then," said he +angrily, "for it's good Gaelic. But the point is this. My scout reports +all clear in the south, and the question is, have ye the strength to +go?" + +I saw cards on the table, but no gold; only a heap of little written +papers, and these all on Cluny's side. Alan, besides, had an odd +look, like a man not very well content; and I began to have a strong +misgiving. + +"I do not know if I am as well as I should be," said I, looking at Alan; +"but the little money we have has a long way to carry us." + +Alan took his under-lip into his mouth, and looked upon the ground. + +"David," says he at last, "I've lost it; there's the naked truth." + +"My money too?" said I. + +"Your money too," says Alan, with a groan. "Ye shouldnae have given it +me. I'm daft when I get to the cartes." + +"Hoot-toot! hoot-toot!" said Cluny. "It was all daffing; it's all +nonsense. Of course you'll have your money back again, and the double of +it, if ye'll make so free with me. It would be a singular thing for me +to keep it. It's not to be supposed that I would be any hindrance to +gentlemen in your situation; that would be a singular thing!" cries he, +and began to pull gold out of his pocket with a mighty red face. + +Alan said nothing, only looked on the ground. + +"Will you step to the door with me, sir?" said I. + +Cluny said he would be very glad, and followed me readily enough, but he +looked flustered and put out. + +"And now, sir," says I, "I must first acknowledge your generosity." + +"Nonsensical nonsense!" cries Cluny. "Where's the generosity? This is +just a most unfortunate affair; but what would ye have me do--boxed +up in this bee-skep of a cage of mine--but just set my friends to the +cartes, when I can get them? And if they lose, of course, it's not to be +supposed----" And here he came to a pause. + +"Yes," said I, "if they lose, you give them back their money; and if +they win, they carry away yours in their pouches! I have said before +that I grant your generosity; but to me, sir, it's a very painful thing +to be placed in this position." + +There was a little silence, in which Cluny seemed always as if he was +about to speak, but said nothing. All the time he grew redder and redder +in the face. + +"I am a young man," said I, "and I ask your advice. Advise me as you +would your son. My friend fairly lost his money, after having fairly +gained a far greater sum of yours; can I accept it back again? Would +that be the right part for me to play? Whatever I do, you can see for +yourself it must be hard upon a man of any pride." + +"It's rather hard on me, too, Mr. Balfour," said Cluny, "and ye give +me very much the look of a man that has entrapped poor people to their +hurt. I wouldnae have my friends come to any house of mine to accept +affronts; no," he cried, with a sudden heat of anger, "nor yet to give +them!" + +"And so you see, sir," said I, "there is something to be said upon my +side; and this gambling is a very poor employ for gentlefolks. But I am +still waiting your opinion." + +I am sure if ever Cluny hated any man it was David Balfour. He looked +me all over with a warlike eye, and I saw the challenge at his lips. +But either my youth disarmed him, or perhaps his own sense of justice. +Certainly it was a mortifying matter for all concerned, and not least +Cluny; the more credit that he took it as he did. + +"Mr. Balfour," said he, "I think you are too nice and covenanting, but +for all that you have the spirit of a very pretty gentleman. Upon my +honest word, ye may take this money--it's what I would tell my son--and +here's my hand along with it!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE QUARREL + +Alan and I were put across Loch Errocht under cloud of night, and went +down its eastern shore to another hiding-place near the head of Loch +Rannoch, whither we were led by one of the gillies from the Cage. This +fellow carried all our luggage and Alan's great-coat in the bargain, +trotting along under the burthen, far less than the half of which used +to weigh me to the ground, like a stout hill pony with a feather; yet he +was a man that, in plain contest, I could have broken on my knee. + +Doubtless it was a great relief to walk disencumbered; and perhaps +without that relief, and the consequent sense of liberty and lightness, +I could not have walked at all. I was but new risen from a bed of +sickness; and there was nothing in the state of our affairs to hearten +me for much exertion; travelling, as we did, over the most dismal +deserts in Scotland, under a cloudy heaven, and with divided hearts +among the travellers. + +For long, we said nothing; marching alongside or one behind the other, +each with a set countenance: I, angry and proud, and drawing what +strength I had from these two violent and sinful feelings; Alan angry +and ashamed, ashamed that he had lost my money, angry that I should take +it so ill. + +The thought of a separation ran always the stronger in my mind; and the +more I approved of it, the more ashamed I grew of my approval. It would +be a fine, handsome, generous thing, indeed, for Alan to turn round and +say to me: "Go, I am in the most danger, and my company only increases +yours." But for me to turn to the friend who certainly loved me, and say +to him: "You are in great danger, I am in but little; your friendship +is a burden; go, take your risks and bear your hardships alone----" no, +that was impossible; and even to think of it privily to myself, made my +cheeks to burn. + +And yet Alan had behaved like a child, and (what is worse) a treacherous +child. Wheedling my money from me while I lay half-conscious was scarce +better than theft; and yet here he was trudging by my side, without a +penny to his name, and by what I could see, quite blithe to sponge upon +the money he had driven me to beg. True, I was ready to share it with +him; but it made me rage to see him count upon my readiness. + +These were the two things uppermost in my mind; and I could open my +mouth upon neither without black ungenerosity. So I did the next worst, +and said nothing, nor so much as looked once at my companion, save with +the tail of my eye. + +At last, upon the other side of Loch Errocht, going over a smooth, rushy +place, where the walking was easy, he could bear it no longer, and came +close to me. + +"David," says he, "this is no way for two friends to take a small +accident. I have to say that I'm sorry; and so that's said. And now if +you have anything, ye'd better say it." + +"O," says I, "I have nothing." + +He seemed disconcerted; at which I was meanly pleased. + +"No," said he, with rather a trembling voice, "but when I say I was to +blame?" + +"Why, of course, ye were to blame," said I, coolly; "and you will bear +me out that I have never reproached you." + +"Never," says he; "but ye ken very well that ye've done worse. Are we to +part? Ye said so once before. Are ye to say it again? There's hills and +heather enough between here and the two seas, David; and I will own I'm +no very keen to stay where I'm no wanted." + +This pierced me like a sword, and seemed to lay bare my private +disloyalty. + +"Alan Breck!" I cried; and then: "Do you think I am one to turn my +back on you in your chief need? You dursn't say it to my face. My whole +conduct's there to give the lie to it. It's true, I fell asleep upon +the muir; but that was from weariness, and you do wrong to cast it up to +me----" + +"Which is what I never did," said Alan. + +"But aside from that," I continued, "what have I done that you should +even me to dogs by such a supposition? I never yet failed a friend, and +it's not likely I'll begin with you. There are things between us that I +can never forget, even if you can." + +"I will only say this to ye, David," said Alan, very quietly, "that I +have long been owing ye my life, and now I owe ye money. Ye should try +to make that burden light for me." + +This ought to have touched me, and in a manner it did, but the wrong +manner. I felt I was behaving badly; and was now not only angry with +Alan, but angry with myself in the bargain; and it made me the more +cruel. + +"You asked me to speak," said I. "Well, then, I will. You own yourself +that you have done me a disservice; I have had to swallow an affront: I +have never reproached you, I never named the thing till you did. And +now you blame me," cried I, "because I cannae laugh and sing as if I was +glad to be affronted. The next thing will be that I'm to go down upon my +knees and thank you for it! Ye should think more of others, Alan +Breck. If ye thought more of others, ye would perhaps speak less about +yourself; and when a friend that likes you very well has passed over an +offence without a word, you would be blithe to let it lie, instead of +making it a stick to break his back with. By your own way of it, it was +you that was to blame; then it shouldnae be you to seek the quarrel." + +"Aweel," said Alan, "say nae mair." + +And we fell back into our former silence; and came to our journey's end, +and supped, and lay down to sleep, without another word. + +The gillie put us across Loch Rannoch in the dusk of the next day, and +gave us his opinion as to our best route. This was to get us up at once +into the tops of the mountains: to go round by a circuit, turning the +heads of Glen Lyon, Glen Lochay, and Glen Dochart, and come down upon +the lowlands by Kippen and the upper waters of the Forth. Alan was +little pleased with a route which led us through the country of his +blood-foes, the Glenorchy Campbells. He objected that by turning to the +east, we should come almost at once among the Athole Stewarts, a race of +his own name and lineage, although following a different chief, and come +besides by a far easier and swifter way to the place whither we were +bound. But the gillie, who was indeed the chief man of Cluny's scouts, +had good reasons to give him on all hands, naming the force of troops +in every district, and alleging finally (as well as I could understand) +that we should nowhere be so little troubled as in a country of the +Campbells. + +Alan gave way at last, but with only half a heart. "It's one of the +dowiest countries in Scotland," said he. "There's naething there that I +ken, but heath, and crows, and Campbells. But I see that ye're a man of +some penetration; and be it as ye please!" + +We set forth accordingly by this itinerary; and for the best part of +three nights travelled on eerie mountains and among the well-heads of +wild rivers; often buried in mist, almost continually blown and rained +upon, and not once cheered by any glimpse of sunshine. By day, we lay +and slept in the drenching heather; by night, incessantly clambered upon +break-neck hills and among rude crags. We often wandered; we were often +so involved in fog, that we must lie quiet till it lightened. A fire was +never to be thought of. Our only food was drammach and a portion of cold +meat that we had carried from the Cage; and as for drink, Heaven knows +we had no want of water. + +This was a dreadful time, rendered the more dreadful by the gloom of +the weather and the country. I was never warm; my teeth chattered in my +head; I was troubled with a very sore throat, such as I had on the isle; +I had a painful stitch in my side, which never left me; and when I slept +in my wet bed, with the rain beating above and the mud oozing below me, +it was to live over again in fancy the worst part of my adventures--to +see the tower of Shaws lit by lightning, Ransome carried below on the +men's backs, Shuan dying on the round-house floor, or Colin Campbell +grasping at the bosom of his coat. From such broken slumbers, I would be +aroused in the gloaming, to sit up in the same puddle where I had slept, +and sup cold drammach; the rain driving sharp in my face or running +down my back in icy trickles; the mist enfolding us like as in a gloomy +chamber--or, perhaps, if the wind blew, falling suddenly apart and +showing us the gulf of some dark valley where the streams were crying +aloud. + +The sound of an infinite number of rivers came up from all round. In +this steady rain the springs of the mountain were broken up; every glen +gushed water like a cistern; every stream was in high spate, and had +filled and overflowed its channel. During our night tramps, it was +solemn to hear the voice of them below in the valleys, now booming like +thunder, now with an angry cry. I could well understand the story of the +Water Kelpie, that demon of the streams, who is fabled to keep wailing +and roaring at the ford until the coming of the doomed traveller. Alan I +saw believed it, or half believed it; and when the cry of the river rose +more than usually sharp, I was little surprised (though, of course, I +would still be shocked) to see him cross himself in the manner of the +Catholics. + +During all these horrid wanderings we had no familiarity, scarcely even +that of speech. The truth is that I was sickening for my grave, which +is my best excuse. But besides that I was of an unforgiving disposition +from my birth, slow to take offence, slower to forget it, and now +incensed both against my companion and myself. For the best part of two +days he was unweariedly kind; silent, indeed, but always ready to help, +and always hoping (as I could very well see) that my displeasure would +blow by. For the same length of time I stayed in myself, nursing my +anger, roughly refusing his services, and passing him over with my eyes +as if he had been a bush or a stone. + +The second night, or rather the peep of the third day, found us upon a +very open hill, so that we could not follow our usual plan and lie down +immediately to eat and sleep. Before we had reached a place of shelter, +the grey had come pretty clear, for though it still rained, the clouds +ran higher; and Alan, looking in my face, showed some marks of concern. + +"Ye had better let me take your pack," said he, for perhaps the ninth +time since we had parted from the scout beside Loch Rannoch. + +"I do very well, I thank you," said I, as cold as ice. + +Alan flushed darkly. "I'll not offer it again," he said. "I'm not a +patient man, David." + +"I never said you were," said I, which was exactly the rude, silly +speech of a boy of ten. + +Alan made no answer at the time, but his conduct answered for him. +Henceforth, it is to be thought, he quite forgave himself for the affair +at Cluny's; cocked his hat again, walked jauntily, whistled airs, and +looked at me upon one side with a provoking smile. + +The third night we were to pass through the western end of the country +of Balquhidder. It came clear and cold, with a touch in the air like +frost, and a northerly wind that blew the clouds away and made the stars +bright. The streams were full, of course, and still made a great noise +among the hills; but I observed that Alan thought no more upon the +Kelpie, and was in high good spirits. As for me, the change of weather +came too late; I had lain in the mire so long that (as the Bible has it) +my very clothes "abhorred me." I was dead weary, deadly sick and full +of pains and shiverings; the chill of the wind went through me, and the +sound of it confused my ears. In this poor state I had to bear from +my companion something in the nature of a persecution. He spoke a good +deal, and never without a taunt. "Whig" was the best name he had to give +me. "Here," he would say, "here's a dub for ye to jump, my Whiggie! I +ken you're a fine jumper!" And so on; all the time with a gibing voice +and face. + +I knew it was my own doing, and no one else's; but I was too miserable +to repent. I felt I could drag myself but little farther; pretty soon, I +must lie down and die on these wet mountains like a sheep or a fox, and +my bones must whiten there like the bones of a beast. My head was light +perhaps; but I began to love the prospect, I began to glory in the +thought of such a death, alone in the desert, with the wild eagles +besieging my last moments. Alan would repent then, I thought; he would +remember, when I was dead, how much he owed me, and the remembrance +would be torture. So I went like a sick, silly, and bad-hearted +schoolboy, feeding my anger against a fellow-man, when I would have +been better on my knees, crying on God for mercy. And at each of Alan's +taunts, I hugged myself. "Ah!" thinks I to myself, "I have a better +taunt in readiness; when I lie down and die, you will feel it like a +buffet in your face; ah, what a revenge! ah, how you will regret your +ingratitude and cruelty!" + +All the while, I was growing worse and worse. Once I had fallen, my leg +simply doubling under me, and this had struck Alan for the moment; but I +was afoot so briskly, and set off again with such a natural manner, +that he soon forgot the incident. Flushes of heat went over me, and then +spasms of shuddering. The stitch in my side was hardly bearable. At last +I began to feel that I could trail myself no farther: and with that, +there came on me all at once the wish to have it out with Alan, let my +anger blaze, and be done with my life in a more sudden manner. He had +just called me "Whig." I stopped. + +"Mr. Stewart," said I, in a voice that quivered like a fiddle-string, +"you are older than I am, and should know your manners. Do you think +it either very wise or very witty to cast my politics in my teeth? I +thought, where folk differed, it was the part of gentlemen to differ +civilly; and if I did not, I may tell you I could find a better taunt +than some of yours." + +Alan had stopped opposite to me, his hat cocked, his hands in his +breeches pockets, his head a little on one side. He listened, smiling +evilly, as I could see by the starlight; and when I had done he began to +whistle a Jacobite air. It was the air made in mockery of General Cope's +defeat at Preston Pans: + + "Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin' yet? + And are your drums a-beatin' yet?" + +And it came in my mind that Alan, on the day of that battle, had been +engaged upon the royal side. + +"Why do ye take that air, Mr. Stewart?" said I. "Is that to remind me +you have been beaten on both sides?" + +The air stopped on Alan's lips. "David!" said he. + +"But it's time these manners ceased," I continued; "and I mean you shall +henceforth speak civilly of my King and my good friends the Campbells." + +"I am a Stewart--" began Alan. + +"O!" says I, "I ken ye bear a king's name. But you are to remember, +since I have been in the Highlands, I have seen a good many of those +that bear it; and the best I can say of them is this, that they would be +none the worse of washing." + +"Do you know that you insult me?" said Alan, very low. + +"I am sorry for that," said I, "for I am not done; and if you distaste +the sermon, I doubt the pirliecue* will please you as little. You have +been chased in the field by the grown men of my party; it seems a poor +kind of pleasure to out-face a boy. Both the Campbells and the Whigs +have beaten you; you have run before them like a hare. It behoves you to +speak of them as of your betters." + + * A second sermon. + +Alan stood quite still, the tails of his great-coat clapping behind him +in the wind. + +"This is a pity," he said at last. "There are things said that cannot be +passed over." + +"I never asked you to," said I. "I am as ready as yourself." + +"Ready?" said he. + +"Ready," I repeated. "I am no blower and boaster like some that I could +name. Come on!" And drawing my sword, I fell on guard as Alan himself +had taught me. + +"David!" he cried. "Are ye daft? I cannae draw upon ye, David. It's +fair murder." + +"That was your look-out when you insulted me," said I. + +"It's the truth!" cried Alan, and he stood for a moment, wringing his +mouth in his hand like a man in sore perplexity. "It's the bare truth," +he said, and drew his sword. But before I could touch his blade with +mine, he had thrown it from him and fallen to the ground. "Na, na," he +kept saying, "na, na--I cannae, I cannae." + +At this the last of my anger oozed all out of me; and I found myself +only sick, and sorry, and blank, and wondering at myself. I would have +given the world to take back what I had said; but a word once spoken, +who can recapture it? I minded me of all Alan's kindness and courage in +the past, how he had helped and cheered and borne with me in our evil +days; and then recalled my own insults, and saw that I had lost for ever +that doughty friend. At the same time, the sickness that hung upon +me seemed to redouble, and the pang in my side was like a sword for +sharpness. I thought I must have swooned where I stood. + +This it was that gave me a thought. No apology could blot out what I had +said; it was needless to think of one, none could cover the offence; but +where an apology was vain, a mere cry for help might bring Alan back to +my side. I put my pride away from me. "Alan!" I said; "if ye cannae help +me, I must just die here." + +He started up sitting, and looked at me. + +"It's true," said I. "I'm by with it. O, let me get into the bield of a +house--I'll can die there easier." I had no need to pretend; whether I +chose or not, I spoke in a weeping voice that would have melted a heart +of stone. + +"Can ye walk?" asked Alan. + +"No," said I, "not without help. This last hour my legs have been +fainting under me; I've a stitch in my side like a red-hot iron; I +cannae breathe right. If I die, ye'll can forgive me, Alan? In my heart, +I liked ye fine--even when I was the angriest." + +"Wheesht, wheesht!" cried Alan. "Dinna say that! David man, ye ken--" He +shut his mouth upon a sob. "Let me get my arm about ye," he continued; +"that's the way! Now lean upon me hard. Gude kens where there's a house! +We're in Balwhidder, too; there should be no want of houses, no, nor +friends' houses here. Do ye gang easier so, Davie?" + +"Ay," said I, "I can be doing this way;" and I pressed his arm with my +hand. + +Again he came near sobbing. "Davie," said he, "I'm no a right man at +all; I have neither sense nor kindness; I could nae remember ye were +just a bairn, I couldnae see ye were dying on your feet; Davie, ye'll +have to try and forgive me." + +"O man, let's say no more about it!" said I. "We're neither one of us +to mend the other--that's the truth! We must just bear and forbear, man +Alan. O, but my stitch is sore! Is there nae house?" + +"I'll find a house to ye, David," he said, stoutly. "We'll follow down +the burn, where there's bound to be houses. My poor man, will ye no be +better on my back?" + +"O, Alan," says I, "and me a good twelve inches taller?" + +"Ye're no such a thing," cried Alan, with a start. "There may be a +trifling matter of an inch or two; I'm no saying I'm just exactly what +ye would call a tall man, whatever; and I dare say," he added, his voice +tailing off in a laughable manner, "now when I come to think of it, I +dare say ye'll be just about right. Ay, it'll be a foot, or near hand; +or may be even mair!" + +It was sweet and laughable to hear Alan eat his words up in the fear of +some fresh quarrel. I could have laughed, had not my stitch caught me so +hard; but if I had laughed, I think I must have wept too. + +"Alan," cried I, "what makes ye so good to me? What makes ye care for +such a thankless fellow?" + +"'Deed, and I don't know" said Alan. "For just precisely what I thought +I liked about ye, was that ye never quarrelled:--and now I like ye +better!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +IN BALQUHIDDER + +At the door of the first house we came to, Alan knocked, which was of +no very safe enterprise in such a part of the Highlands as the Braes of +Balquhidder. No great clan held rule there; it was filled and disputed +by small septs, and broken remnants, and what they call "chiefless +folk," driven into the wild country about the springs of Forth and Teith +by the advance of the Campbells. Here were Stewarts and Maclarens, which +came to the same thing, for the Maclarens followed Alan's chief in war, +and made but one clan with Appin. Here, too, were many of that old, +proscribed, nameless, red-handed clan of the Macgregors. They had always +been ill-considered, and now worse than ever, having credit with no side +or party in the whole country of Scotland. Their chief, Macgregor of +Macgregor, was in exile; the more immediate leader of that part of them +about Balquhidder, James More, Rob Roy's eldest son, lay waiting his +trial in Edinburgh Castle; they were in ill-blood with Highlander and +Lowlander, with the Grahames, the Maclarens, and the Stewarts; and Alan, +who took up the quarrel of any friend, however distant, was extremely +wishful to avoid them. + +Chance served us very well; for it was a household of Maclarens that we +found, where Alan was not only welcome for his name's sake but known +by reputation. Here then I was got to bed without delay, and a doctor +fetched, who found me in a sorry plight. But whether because he was a +very good doctor, or I a very young, strong man, I lay bedridden for no +more than a week, and before a month I was able to take the road again +with a good heart. + +All this time Alan would not leave me though I often pressed him, and +indeed his foolhardiness in staying was a common subject of outcry with +the two or three friends that were let into the secret. He hid by day +in a hole of the braes under a little wood; and at night, when the coast +was clear, would come into the house to visit me. I need not say if I +was pleased to see him; Mrs. Maclaren, our hostess, thought nothing good +enough for such a guest; and as Duncan Dhu (which was the name of our +host) had a pair of pipes in his house, and was much of a lover of +music, this time of my recovery was quite a festival, and we commonly +turned night into day. + +The soldiers let us be; although once a party of two companies and some +dragoons went by in the bottom of the valley, where I could see them +through the window as I lay in bed. What was much more astonishing, no +magistrate came near me, and there was no question put of whence I came +or whither I was going; and in that time of excitement, I was as free of +all inquiry as though I had lain in a desert. Yet my presence was known +before I left to all the people in Balquhidder and the adjacent parts; +many coming about the house on visits and these (after the custom of the +country) spreading the news among their neighbours. The bills, too, had +now been printed. There was one pinned near the foot of my bed, where +I could read my own not very flattering portrait and, in larger +characters, the amount of the blood money that had been set upon my +life. Duncan Dhu and the rest that knew that I had come there in Alan's +company, could have entertained no doubt of who I was; and many others +must have had their guess. For though I had changed my clothes, I could +not change my age or person; and Lowland boys of eighteen were not so +rife in these parts of the world, and above all about that time, that +they could fail to put one thing with another, and connect me with the +bill. So it was, at least. Other folk keep a secret among two or three +near friends, and somehow it leaks out; but among these clansmen, it is +told to a whole countryside, and they will keep it for a century. + +There was but one thing happened worth narrating; and that is the visit +I had of Robin Oig, one of the sons of the notorious Rob Roy. He was +sought upon all sides on a charge of carrying a young woman from +Balfron and marrying her (as was alleged) by force; yet he stepped about +Balquhidder like a gentleman in his own walled policy. It was he who had +shot James Maclaren at the plough stilts, a quarrel never satisfied; yet +he walked into the house of his blood enemies as a rider* might into a + public inn.* Commercial traveller. + +Duncan had time to pass me word of who it was; and we looked at one +another in concern. You should understand, it was then close upon the +time of Alan's coming; the two were little likely to agree; and yet if +we sent word or sought to make a signal, it was sure to arouse suspicion +in a man under so dark a cloud as the Macgregor. + +He came in with a great show of civility, but like a man among +inferiors; took off his bonnet to Mrs. Maclaren, but clapped it on his +head again to speak to Duncan; and having thus set himself (as he would +have thought) in a proper light, came to my bedside and bowed. + +"I am given to know, sir," says he, "that your name is Balfour." + +"They call me David Balfour," said I, "at your service." + +"I would give ye my name in return, sir," he replied, "but it's one +somewhat blown upon of late days; and it'll perhaps suffice if I tell +ye that I am own brother to James More Drummond or Macgregor, of whom ye +will scarce have failed to hear." + +"No, sir," said I, a little alarmed; "nor yet of your father, +Macgregor-Campbell." And I sat up and bowed in bed; for I thought best +to compliment him, in case he was proud of having had an outlaw to his +father. + +He bowed in return. "But what I am come to say, sir," he went on, "is +this. In the year '45, my brother raised a part of the 'Gregara' and +marched six companies to strike a stroke for the good side; and the +surgeon that marched with our clan and cured my brother's leg when it +was broken in the brush at Preston Pans, was a gentleman of the same +name precisely as yourself. He was brother to Balfour of Baith; and if +you are in any reasonable degree of nearness one of that gentleman's +kin, I have come to put myself and my people at your command." + +You are to remember that I knew no more of my descent than any cadger's +dog; my uncle, to be sure, had prated of some of our high connections, +but nothing to the present purpose; and there was nothing left me but +that bitter disgrace of owning that I could not tell. + +Robin told me shortly he was sorry he had put himself about, turned his +back upon me without a sign of salutation, and as he went towards the +door, I could hear him telling Duncan that I was "only some kinless loon +that didn't know his own father." Angry as I was at these words, and +ashamed of my own ignorance, I could scarce keep from smiling that a +man who was under the lash of the law (and was indeed hanged some three +years later) should be so nice as to the descent of his acquaintances. + +Just in the door, he met Alan coming in; and the two drew back and +looked at each other like strange dogs. They were neither of them big +men, but they seemed fairly to swell out with pride. Each wore a sword, +and by a movement of his haunch, thrust clear the hilt of it, so that it +might be the more readily grasped and the blade drawn. + +"Mr. Stewart, I am thinking," says Robin. + +"Troth, Mr. Macgregor, it's not a name to be ashamed of," answered Alan. + +"I did not know ye were in my country, sir," says Robin. + +"It sticks in my mind that I am in the country of my friends the +Maclarens," says Alan. + +"That's a kittle point," returned the other. "There may be two words to +say to that. But I think I will have heard that you are a man of your +sword?" + +"Unless ye were born deaf, Mr. Macgregor, ye will have heard a good deal +more than that," says Alan. "I am not the only man that can draw steel +in Appin; and when my kinsman and captain, Ardshiel, had a talk with a +gentleman of your name, not so many years back, I could never hear that +the Macgregor had the best of it." + +"Do ye mean my father, sir?" says Robin. + +"Well, I wouldnae wonder," said Alan. "The gentleman I have in my mind +had the ill-taste to clap Campbell to his name." + +"My father was an old man," returned Robin. + +"The match was unequal. You and me would make a better pair, sir." + +"I was thinking that," said Alan. + +I was half out of bed, and Duncan had been hanging at the elbow of these +fighting cocks, ready to intervene upon the least occasion. But when +that word was uttered, it was a case of now or never; and Duncan, with +something of a white face to be sure, thrust himself between. + +"Gentlemen," said he, "I will have been thinking of a very different +matter, whateffer. Here are my pipes, and here are you two gentlemen who +are baith acclaimed pipers. It's an auld dispute which one of ye's the +best. Here will be a braw chance to settle it." + +"Why, sir," said Alan, still addressing Robin, from whom indeed he had +not so much as shifted his eyes, nor yet Robin from him, "why, sir," +says Alan, "I think I will have heard some sough* of the sort. Have ye +music, as folk say? Are ye a bit of a piper?" + + * Rumour. + +"I can pipe like a Macrimmon!" cries Robin. + +"And that is a very bold word," quoth Alan. + +"I have made bolder words good before now," returned Robin, "and that +against better adversaries." + +"It is easy to try that," says Alan. + +Duncan Dhu made haste to bring out the pair of pipes that was his +principal possession, and to set before his guests a mutton-ham and a +bottle of that drink which they call Athole brose, and which is made of +old whiskey, strained honey and sweet cream, slowly beaten together in +the right order and proportion. The two enemies were still on the very +breach of a quarrel; but down they sat, one upon each side of the peat +fire, with a mighty show of politeness. Maclaren pressed them to taste +his mutton-ham and "the wife's brose," reminding them the wife was out +of Athole and had a name far and wide for her skill in that confection. +But Robin put aside these hospitalities as bad for the breath. + +"I would have ye to remark, sir," said Alan, "that I havenae broken +bread for near upon ten hours, which will be worse for the breath than +any brose in Scotland." + +"I will take no advantages, Mr. Stewart," replied Robin. "Eat and drink; +I'll follow you." + +Each ate a small portion of the ham and drank a glass of the brose to +Mrs. Maclaren; and then after a great number of civilities, Robin took +the pipes and played a little spring in a very ranting manner. + +"Ay, ye can blow" said Alan; and taking the instrument from his rival, +he first played the same spring in a manner identical with Robin's; and +then wandered into variations, which, as he went on, he decorated with +a perfect flight of grace-notes, such as pipers love, and call the +"warblers." + +I had been pleased with Robin's playing, Alan's ravished me. + +"That's no very bad, Mr. Stewart," said the rival, "but ye show a poor +device in your warblers." + +"Me!" cried Alan, the blood starting to his face. "I give ye the lie." + +"Do ye own yourself beaten at the pipes, then," said Robin, "that ye +seek to change them for the sword?" + +"And that's very well said, Mr. Macgregor," returned Alan; "and in the +meantime" (laying a strong accent on the word) "I take back the lie. I +appeal to Duncan." + +"Indeed, ye need appeal to naebody," said Robin. "Ye're a far better +judge than any Maclaren in Balquhidder: for it's a God's truth that +you're a very creditable piper for a Stewart. Hand me the pipes." Alan +did as he asked; and Robin proceeded to imitate and correct some part of +Alan's variations, which it seemed that he remembered perfectly. + +"Ay, ye have music," said Alan, gloomily. + +"And now be the judge yourself, Mr. Stewart," said Robin; and taking up +the variations from the beginning, he worked them throughout to so new a +purpose, with such ingenuity and sentiment, and with so odd a fancy and +so quick a knack in the grace-notes, that I was amazed to hear him. + +As for Alan, his face grew dark and hot, and he sat and gnawed his +fingers, like a man under some deep affront. "Enough!" he cried. "Ye can +blow the pipes--make the most of that." And he made as if to rise. + +But Robin only held out his hand as if to ask for silence, and struck +into the slow measure of a pibroch. It was a fine piece of music in +itself, and nobly played; but it seems, besides, it was a piece peculiar +to the Appin Stewarts and a chief favourite with Alan. The first notes +were scarce out, before there came a change in his face; when the time +quickened, he seemed to grow restless in his seat; and long before that +piece was at an end, the last signs of his anger died from him, and he +had no thought but for the music. + +"Robin Oig," he said, when it was done, "ye are a great piper. I am not +fit to blow in the same kingdom with ye. Body of me! ye have mair music +in your sporran than I have in my head! And though it still sticks in +my mind that I could maybe show ye another of it with the cold steel, +I warn ye beforehand--it'll no be fair! It would go against my heart to +haggle a man that can blow the pipes as you can!" + +Thereupon that quarrel was made up; all night long the brose was going +and the pipes changing hands; and the day had come pretty bright, and +the three men were none the better for what they had been taking, before +Robin as much as thought upon the road. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH + +The month, as I have said, was not yet out, but it was already far +through August, and beautiful warm weather, with every sign of an early +and great harvest, when I was pronounced able for my journey. Our money +was now run to so low an ebb that we must think first of all on speed; +for if we came not soon to Mr. Rankeillor's, or if when we came there he +should fail to help me, we must surely starve. In Alan's view, besides, +the hunt must have now greatly slackened; and the line of the Forth and +even Stirling Bridge, which is the main pass over that river, would be +watched with little interest. + +"It's a chief principle in military affairs," said he, "to go where +ye are least expected. Forth is our trouble; ye ken the saying, 'Forth +bridles the wild Hielandman.' Well, if we seek to creep round about +the head of that river and come down by Kippen or Balfron, it's just +precisely there that they'll be looking to lay hands on us. But if we +stave on straight to the auld Brig of Stirling, I'll lay my sword they +let us pass unchallenged." + +The first night, accordingly, we pushed to the house of a Maclaren in +Strathire, a friend of Duncan's, where we slept the twenty-first of the +month, and whence we set forth again about the fall of night to make +another easy stage. The twenty-second we lay in a heather bush on the +hillside in Uam Var, within view of a herd of deer, the happiest ten +hours of sleep in a fine, breathing sunshine and on bone-dry ground, +that I have ever tasted. That night we struck Allan Water, and followed +it down; and coming to the edge of the hills saw the whole Carse of +Stirling underfoot, as flat as a pancake, with the town and castle on a +hill in the midst of it, and the moon shining on the Links of Forth. + +"Now," said Alan, "I kenna if ye care, but ye're in your own land again. +We passed the Hieland Line in the first hour; and now if we could but +pass yon crooked water, we might cast our bonnets in the air." + +In Allan Water, near by where it falls into the Forth, we found a little +sandy islet, overgrown with burdock, butterbur and the like low plants, +that would just cover us if we lay flat. Here it was we made our camp, +within plain view of Stirling Castle, whence we could hear the drums +beat as some part of the garrison paraded. Shearers worked all day in +a field on one side of the river, and we could hear the stones going +on the hooks and the voices and even the words of the men talking. It +behoved to lie close and keep silent. But the sand of the little isle +was sun-warm, the green plants gave us shelter for our heads, we had +food and drink in plenty; and to crown all, we were within sight of +safety. + +As soon as the shearers quit their work and the dusk began to fall, +we waded ashore and struck for the Bridge of Stirling, keeping to the +fields and under the field fences. + +The bridge is close under the castle hill, an old, high, narrow bridge +with pinnacles along the parapet; and you may conceive with how much +interest I looked upon it, not only as a place famous in history, but as +the very doors of salvation to Alan and myself. The moon was not yet up +when we came there; a few lights shone along the front of the fortress, +and lower down a few lighted windows in the town; but it was all mighty +still, and there seemed to be no guard upon the passage. + +I was for pushing straight across; but Alan was more wary. + +"It looks unco' quiet," said he; "but for all that we'll lie down here +cannily behind a dyke, and make sure." + +So we lay for about a quarter of an hour, whiles whispering, whiles +lying still and hearing nothing earthly but the washing of the water on +the piers. At last there came by an old, hobbling woman with a crutch +stick; who first stopped a little, close to where we lay, and bemoaned +herself and the long way she had travelled; and then set forth again up +the steep spring of the bridge. The woman was so little, and the night +still so dark, that we soon lost sight of her; only heard the sound of +her steps, and her stick, and a cough that she had by fits, draw slowly +farther away. + +"She's bound to be across now," I whispered. + +"Na," said Alan, "her foot still sounds boss* upon the bridge." + + * Hollow. + +And just then--"Who goes?" cried a voice, and we heard the butt of +a musket rattle on the stones. I must suppose the sentry had been +sleeping, so that had we tried, we might have passed unseen; but he was +awake now, and the chance forfeited. + +"This'll never do," said Alan. "This'll never, never do for us, David." + +And without another word, he began to crawl away through the fields; and +a little after, being well out of eye-shot, got to his feet again, and +struck along a road that led to the eastward. I could not conceive what +he was doing; and indeed I was so sharply cut by the disappointment, +that I was little likely to be pleased with anything. A moment back +and I had seen myself knocking at Mr. Rankeillor's door to claim my +inheritance, like a hero in a ballad; and here was I back again, a +wandering, hunted blackguard, on the wrong side of Forth. + +"Well?" said I. + +"Well," said Alan, "what would ye have? They're none such fools as I +took them for. We have still the Forth to pass, Davie--weary fall the +rains that fed and the hillsides that guided it!" + +"And why go east?" said I. + +"Ou, just upon the chance!" said he. "If we cannae pass the river, we'll +have to see what we can do for the firth." + +"There are fords upon the river, and none upon the firth," said I. + +"To be sure there are fords, and a bridge forbye," quoth Alan; "and of +what service, when they are watched?" + +"Well," said I, "but a river can be swum." + +"By them that have the skill of it," returned he; "but I have yet to +hear that either you or me is much of a hand at that exercise; and for +my own part, I swim like a stone." + +"I'm not up to you in talking back, Alan," I said; "but I can see we're +making bad worse. If it's hard to pass a river, it stands to reason it +must be worse to pass a sea." + +"But there's such a thing as a boat," says Alan, "or I'm the more +deceived." + +"Ay, and such a thing as money," says I. "But for us that have neither +one nor other, they might just as well not have been invented." + +"Ye think so?" said Alan. + +"I do that," said I. + +"David," says he, "ye're a man of small invention and less faith. But +let me set my wits upon the hone, and if I cannae beg, borrow, nor yet +steal a boat, I'll make one!" + +"I think I see ye!" said I. "And what's more than all that: if ye pass a +bridge, it can tell no tales; but if we pass the firth, there's the boat +on the wrong side--somebody must have brought it--the country-side will +all be in a bizz---" + +"Man!" cried Alan, "if I make a boat, I'll make a body to take it back +again! So deave me with no more of your nonsense, but walk (for that's +what you've got to do)--and let Alan think for ye." + +All night, then, we walked through the north side of the Carse under +the high line of the Ochil mountains; and by Alloa and Clackmannan and +Culross, all of which we avoided: and about ten in the morning, mighty +hungry and tired, came to the little clachan of Limekilns. This is a +place that sits near in by the water-side, and looks across the Hope to +the town of the Queensferry. Smoke went up from both of these, and from +other villages and farms upon all hands. The fields were being reaped; +two ships lay anchored, and boats were coming and going on the Hope. +It was altogether a right pleasant sight to me; and I could not take +my fill of gazing at these comfortable, green, cultivated hills and the +busy people both of the field and sea. + +For all that, there was Mr. Rankeillor's house on the south shore, where +I had no doubt wealth awaited me; and here was I upon the north, clad in +poor enough attire of an outlandish fashion, with three silver shillings +left to me of all my fortune, a price set upon my head, and an outlawed +man for my sole company. + +"O, Alan!" said I, "to think of it! Over there, there's all that heart +could want waiting me; and the birds go over, and the boats go over--all +that please can go, but just me only! O, man, but it's a heart-break!" + +In Limekilns we entered a small change-house, which we only knew to be a +public by the wand over the door, and bought some bread and cheese from +a good-looking lass that was the servant. This we carried with us in a +bundle, meaning to sit and eat it in a bush of wood on the sea-shore, +that we saw some third part of a mile in front. As we went, I kept +looking across the water and sighing to myself; and though I took no +heed of it, Alan had fallen into a muse. At last he stopped in the way. + +"Did ye take heed of the lass we bought this of?" says he, tapping on +the bread and cheese. + +"To be sure," said I, "and a bonny lass she was." + +"Ye thought that?" cries he. "Man, David, that's good news." + +"In the name of all that's wonderful, why so?" says I. "What good can +that do?" + +"Well," said Alan, with one of his droll looks, "I was rather in hopes +it would maybe get us that boat." + +"If it were the other way about, it would be liker it," said I. + +"That's all that you ken, ye see," said Alan. "I don't want the lass to +fall in love with ye, I want her to be sorry for ye, David; to which end +there is no manner of need that she should take you for a beauty. Let me +see" (looking me curiously over). "I wish ye were a wee thing paler; but +apart from that ye'll do fine for my purpose--ye have a fine, hang-dog, +rag-and-tatter, clappermaclaw kind of a look to ye, as if ye had +stolen the coat from a potato-bogle. Come; right about, and back to the +change-house for that boat of ours." + +I followed him, laughing. + +"David Balfour," said he, "ye're a very funny gentleman by your way of +it, and this is a very funny employ for ye, no doubt. For all that, if +ye have any affection for my neck (to say nothing of your own) ye will +perhaps be kind enough to take this matter responsibly. I am going to +do a bit of play-acting, the bottom ground of which is just exactly as +serious as the gallows for the pair of us. So bear it, if ye please, in +mind, and conduct yourself according." + +"Well, well," said I, "have it as you will." + +As we got near the clachan, he made me take his arm and hang upon it +like one almost helpless with weariness; and by the time he pushed +open the change-house door, he seemed to be half carrying me. The maid +appeared surprised (as well she might be) at our speedy return; but +Alan had no words to spare for her in explanation, helped me to a chair, +called for a tass of brandy with which he fed me in little sips, +and then breaking up the bread and cheese helped me to eat it like +a nursery-lass; the whole with that grave, concerned, affectionate +countenance, that might have imposed upon a judge. It was small wonder +if the maid were taken with the picture we presented, of a poor, sick, +overwrought lad and his most tender comrade. She drew quite near, and +stood leaning with her back on the next table. + +"What's like wrong with him?" said she at last. + +Alan turned upon her, to my great wonder, with a kind of fury. "Wrong?" +cries he. "He's walked more hundreds of miles than he has hairs upon his +chin, and slept oftener in wet heather than dry sheets. Wrong, quo' she! +Wrong enough, I would think! Wrong, indeed!" and he kept grumbling to +himself as he fed me, like a man ill-pleased. + +"He's young for the like of that," said the maid. + +"Ower young," said Alan, with his back to her. + +"He would be better riding," says she. + +"And where could I get a horse to him?" cried Alan, turning on her with +the same appearance of fury. "Would ye have me steal?" + +I thought this roughness would have sent her off in dudgeon, as indeed +it closed her mouth for the time. But my companion knew very well what +he was doing; and for as simple as he was in some things of life, had a +great fund of roguishness in such affairs as these. + +"Ye neednae tell me," she said at last--"ye're gentry." + +"Well," said Alan, softened a little (I believe against his will) by +this artless comment, "and suppose we were? Did ever you hear that +gentrice put money in folk's pockets?" + +She sighed at this, as if she were herself some disinherited great lady. +"No," says she, "that's true indeed." + +I was all this while chafing at the part I played, and sitting +tongue-tied between shame and merriment; but somehow at this I could +hold in no longer, and bade Alan let me be, for I was better already. My +voice stuck in my throat, for I ever hated to take part in lies; but my +very embarrassment helped on the plot, for the lass no doubt set down my +husky voice to sickness and fatigue. + +"Has he nae friends?" said she, in a tearful voice. + +"That has he so!" cried Alan, "if we could but win to them!--friends and +rich friends, beds to lie in, food to eat, doctors to see to him--and +here he must tramp in the dubs and sleep in the heather like a +beggarman." + +"And why that?" says the lass. + +"My dear," said Alan, "I cannae very safely say; but I'll tell ye what +I'll do instead," says he, "I'll whistle ye a bit tune." And with that +he leaned pretty far over the table, and in a mere breath of a whistle, +but with a wonderful pretty sentiment, gave her a few bars of "Charlie +is my darling." + +"Wheesht," says she, and looked over her shoulder to the door. + +"That's it," said Alan. + +"And him so young!" cries the lass. + +"He's old enough to----" and Alan struck his forefinger on the back part +of his neck, meaning that I was old enough to lose my head. + +"It would be a black shame," she cried, flushing high. + +"It's what will be, though," said Alan, "unless we manage the better." + +At this the lass turned and ran out of that part of the house, leaving +us alone together. Alan in high good humour at the furthering of his +schemes, and I in bitter dudgeon at being called a Jacobite and treated +like a child. + +"Alan," I cried, "I can stand no more of this." + +"Ye'll have to sit it then, Davie," said he. "For if ye upset the pot +now, ye may scrape your own life out of the fire, but Alan Breck is a +dead man." + +This was so true that I could only groan; and even my groan served +Alan's purpose, for it was overheard by the lass as she came flying in +again with a dish of white puddings and a bottle of strong ale. + +"Poor lamb!" says she, and had no sooner set the meat before us, than +she touched me on the shoulder with a little friendly touch, as much as +to bid me cheer up. Then she told us to fall to, and there would be no +more to pay; for the inn was her own, or at least her father's, and he +was gone for the day to Pittencrieff. We waited for no second bidding, +for bread and cheese is but cold comfort and the puddings smelt +excellently well; and while we sat and ate, she took up that same place +by the next table, looking on, and thinking, and frowning to herself, +and drawing the string of her apron through her hand. + +"I'm thinking ye have rather a long tongue," she said at last to Alan. + +"Ay" said Alan; "but ye see I ken the folk I speak to." + +"I would never betray ye," said she, "if ye mean that." + +"No," said he, "ye're not that kind. But I'll tell ye what ye would do, +ye would help." + +"I couldnae," said she, shaking her head. "Na, I couldnae." + +"No," said he, "but if ye could?" + +She answered him nothing. + +"Look here, my lass," said Alan, "there are boats in the Kingdom of +Fife, for I saw two (no less) upon the beach, as I came in by your +town's end. Now if we could have the use of a boat to pass under cloud +of night into Lothian, and some secret, decent kind of a man to bring +that boat back again and keep his counsel, there would be two souls +saved--mine to all likelihood--his to a dead surety. If we lack that +boat, we have but three shillings left in this wide world; and where +to go, and how to do, and what other place there is for us except the +chains of a gibbet--I give you my naked word, I kenna! Shall we go +wanting, lassie? Are ye to lie in your warm bed and think upon us, when +the wind gowls in the chimney and the rain tirls on the roof? Are ye to +eat your meat by the cheeks of a red fire, and think upon this poor sick +lad of mine, biting his finger ends on a blae muir for cauld and hunger? +Sick or sound, he must aye be moving; with the death grapple at his +throat he must aye be trailing in the rain on the lang roads; and when +he gants his last on a rickle of cauld stanes, there will be nae friends +near him but only me and God." + +At this appeal, I could see the lass was in great trouble of mind, +being tempted to help us, and yet in some fear she might be helping +malefactors; and so now I determined to step in myself and to allay her +scruples with a portion of the truth. + +"Did ever you hear," said I, "of Mr. Rankeillor of the Ferry?" + +"Rankeillor the writer?" said she. "I daur say that!" + +"Well," said I, "it's to his door that I am bound, so you may judge by +that if I am an ill-doer; and I will tell you more, that though I am +indeed, by a dreadful error, in some peril of my life, King George has +no truer friend in all Scotland than myself." + +Her face cleared up mightily at this, although Alan's darkened. + +"That's more than I would ask," said she. "Mr. Rankeillor is a kennt +man." And she bade us finish our meat, get clear of the clachan as soon +as might be, and lie close in the bit wood on the sea-beach. "And ye can +trust me," says she, "I'll find some means to put you over." + +At this we waited for no more, but shook hands with her upon the +bargain, made short work of the puddings, and set forth again from +Limekilns as far as to the wood. It was a small piece of perhaps a score +of elders and hawthorns and a few young ashes, not thick enough to veil +us from passersby upon the road or beach. Here we must lie, however, +making the best of the brave warm weather and the good hopes we now had +of a deliverance, and planing more particularly what remained for us to +do. + +We had but one trouble all day; when a strolling piper came and sat in +the same wood with us; a red-nosed, bleareyed, drunken dog, with a great +bottle of whisky in his pocket, and a long story of wrongs that had been +done him by all sorts of persons, from the Lord President of the +Court of Session, who had denied him justice, down to the Bailies of +Inverkeithing who had given him more of it than he desired. It was +impossible but he should conceive some suspicion of two men lying all +day concealed in a thicket and having no business to allege. As long as +he stayed there he kept us in hot water with prying questions; and after +he was gone, as he was a man not very likely to hold his tongue, we were +in the greater impatience to be gone ourselves. + +The day came to an end with the same brightness; the night fell quiet +and clear; lights came out in houses and hamlets and then, one after +another, began to be put out; but it was past eleven, and we were long +since strangely tortured with anxieties, before we heard the grinding +of oars upon the rowing-pins. At that, we looked out and saw the lass +herself coming rowing to us in a boat. She had trusted no one with our +affairs, not even her sweetheart, if she had one; but as soon as her +father was asleep, had left the house by a window, stolen a neighbour's +boat, and come to our assistance single-handed. + +I was abashed how to find expression for my thanks; but she was no less +abashed at the thought of hearing them; begged us to lose no time and to +hold our peace, saying (very properly) that the heart of our matter was +in haste and silence; and so, what with one thing and another, she had +set us on the Lothian shore not far from Carriden, had shaken hands with +us, and was out again at sea and rowing for Limekilns, before there was +one word said either of her service or our gratitude. + +Even after she was gone, we had nothing to say, as indeed nothing was +enough for such a kindness. Only Alan stood a great while upon the shore +shaking his head. + +"It is a very fine lass," he said at last. "David, it is a very fine +lass." And a matter of an hour later, as we were lying in a den on +the sea-shore and I had been already dozing, he broke out again in +commendations of her character. For my part, I could say nothing, she +was so simple a creature that my heart smote me both with remorse and +fear: remorse because we had traded upon her ignorance; and fear lest we +should have anyway involved her in the dangers of our situation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR + +The next day it was agreed that Alan should fend for himself till +sunset; but as soon as it began to grow dark, he should lie in the +fields by the roadside near to Newhalls, and stir for naught until he +heard me whistling. At first I proposed I should give him for a signal +the "Bonnie House of Airlie," which was a favourite of mine; but he +objected that as the piece was very commonly known, any ploughman might +whistle it by accident; and taught me instead a little fragment of a +Highland air, which has run in my head from that day to this, and will +likely run in my head when I lie dying. Every time it comes to me, it +takes me off to that last day of my uncertainty, with Alan sitting up in +the bottom of the den, whistling and beating the measure with a finger, +and the grey of the dawn coming on his face. + +I was in the long street of Queensferry before the sun was up. It was a +fairly built burgh, the houses of good stone, many slated; the town-hall +not so fine, I thought, as that of Peebles, nor yet the street so noble; +but take it altogether, it put me to shame for my foul tatters. + + + +As the morning went on, and the fires began to be kindled, and the +windows to open, and the people to appear out of the houses, my concern +and despondency grew ever the blacker. I saw now that I had no grounds +to stand upon; and no clear proof of my rights, nor so much as of my own +identity. If it was all a bubble, I was indeed sorely cheated and left +in a sore pass. Even if things were as I conceived, it would in all +likelihood take time to establish my contentions; and what time had I +to spare with less than three shillings in my pocket, and a condemned, +hunted man upon my hands to ship out of the country? Truly, if my hope +broke with me, it might come to the gallows yet for both of us. And as I +continued to walk up and down, and saw people looking askance at me upon +the street or out of windows, and nudging or speaking one to another +with smiles, I began to take a fresh apprehension: that it might be no +easy matter even to come to speech of the lawyer, far less to convince +him of my story. + +For the life of me I could not muster up the courage to address any of +these reputable burghers; I thought shame even to speak with them in +such a pickle of rags and dirt; and if I had asked for the house of such +a man as Mr. Rankeillor, I suppose they would have burst out laughing in +my face. So I went up and down, and through the street, and down to +the harbour-side, like a dog that has lost its master, with a strange +gnawing in my inwards, and every now and then a movement of despair. +It grew to be high day at last, perhaps nine in the forenoon; and I was +worn with these wanderings, and chanced to have stopped in front of +a very good house on the landward side, a house with beautiful, clear +glass windows, flowering knots upon the sills, the walls new-harled* and +a chase-dog sitting yawning on the step like one that was at home. Well, +I was even envying this dumb brute, when the door fell open and +there issued forth a shrewd, ruddy, kindly, consequential man in a +well-powdered wig and spectacles. I was in such a plight that no one set +eyes on me once, but he looked at me again; and this gentleman, as it +proved, was so much struck with my poor appearance that he came straight +up to me and asked me what I did. + + * Newly rough-cast. + +I told him I was come to the Queensferry on business, and taking heart +of grace, asked him to direct me to the house of Mr. Rankeillor. + +"Why," said he, "that is his house that I have just come out of; and for +a rather singular chance, I am that very man." + +"Then, sir," said I, "I have to beg the favour of an interview." + +"I do not know your name," said he, "nor yet your face." + +"My name is David Balfour," said I. + +"David Balfour?" he repeated, in rather a high tone, like one surprised. +"And where have you come from, Mr. David Balfour?" he asked, looking me +pretty drily in the face. + +"I have come from a great many strange places, sir," said I; "but I +think it would be as well to tell you where and how in a more private +manner." + +He seemed to muse awhile, holding his lip in his hand, and looking now +at me and now upon the causeway of the street. + +"Yes," says he, "that will be the best, no doubt." And he led me back +with him into his house, cried out to some one whom I could not see +that he would be engaged all morning, and brought me into a little dusty +chamber full of books and documents. Here he sate down, and bade me +be seated; though I thought he looked a little ruefully from his clean +chair to my muddy rags. "And now," says he, "if you have any business, +pray be brief and come swiftly to the point. Nec gemino bellum Trojanum +orditur ab ovo--do you understand that?" says he, with a keen look. + +"I will even do as Horace says, sir," I answered, smiling, "and carry +you in medias res." He nodded as if he was well pleased, and indeed his +scrap of Latin had been set to test me. For all that, and though I was +somewhat encouraged, the blood came in my face when I added: "I have +reason to believe myself some rights on the estate of Shaws." + +He got a paper book out of a drawer and set it before him open. "Well?" +said he. + +But I had shot my bolt and sat speechless. + +"Come, come, Mr. Balfour," said he, "you must continue. Where were you +born?" + +"In Essendean, sir," said I, "the year 1733, the 12th of March." + +He seemed to follow this statement in his paper book; but what that +meant I knew not. "Your father and mother?" said he. + +"My father was Alexander Balfour, schoolmaster of that place," said I, +"and my mother Grace Pitarrow; I think her people were from Angus." + +"Have you any papers proving your identity?" asked Mr. Rankeillor. + +"No, sir," said I, "but they are in the hands of Mr. Campbell, the +minister, and could be readily produced. Mr. Campbell, too, would give +me his word; and for that matter, I do not think my uncle would deny +me." + +"Meaning Mr. Ebenezer Balfour?" says he. + +"The same," said I. + +"Whom you have seen?" he asked. + +"By whom I was received into his own house," I answered. + +"Did you ever meet a man of the name of Hoseason?" asked Mr. Rankeillor. + +"I did so, sir, for my sins," said I; "for it was by his means and the +procurement of my uncle, that I was kidnapped within sight of this town, +carried to sea, suffered shipwreck and a hundred other hardships, and +stand before you to-day in this poor accoutrement." + +"You say you were shipwrecked," said Rankeillor; "where was that?" + +"Off the south end of the Isle of Mull," said I. "The name of the isle +on which I was cast up is the Island Earraid." + +"Ah!" says he, smiling, "you are deeper than me in the geography. But so +far, I may tell you, this agrees pretty exactly with other informations +that I hold. But you say you were kidnapped; in what sense?" + +"In the plain meaning of the word, sir," said I. "I was on my way to +your house, when I was trepanned on board the brig, cruelly struck down, +thrown below, and knew no more of anything till we were far at sea. I +was destined for the plantations; a fate that, in God's providence, I +have escaped." + +"The brig was lost on June the 27th," says he, looking in his book, +"and we are now at August the 24th. Here is a considerable hiatus, Mr. +Balfour, of near upon two months. It has already caused a vast amount +of trouble to your friends; and I own I shall not be very well contented +until it is set right." + +"Indeed, sir," said I, "these months are very easily filled up; but yet +before I told my story, I would be glad to know that I was talking to a +friend." + +"This is to argue in a circle," said the lawyer. "I cannot be convinced +till I have heard you. I cannot be your friend till I am properly +informed. If you were more trustful, it would better befit your time of +life. And you know, Mr. Balfour, we have a proverb in the country that +evil-doers are aye evil-dreaders." + +"You are not to forget, sir," said I, "that I have already suffered by +my trustfulness; and was shipped off to be a slave by the very man that +(if I rightly understand) is your employer?" + +All this while I had been gaining ground with Mr. Rankeillor, and in +proportion as I gained ground, gaining confidence. But at this sally, +which I made with something of a smile myself, he fairly laughed aloud. + +"No, no," said he, "it is not so bad as that. Fui, non sum. I was indeed +your uncle's man of business; but while you (imberbis juvenis custode +remoto) were gallivanting in the west, a good deal of water has run +under the bridges; and if your ears did not sing, it was not for lack of +being talked about. On the very day of your sea disaster, Mr. Campbell +stalked into my office, demanding you from all the winds. I had never +heard of your existence; but I had known your father; and from matters +in my competence (to be touched upon hereafter) I was disposed to fear +the worst. Mr. Ebenezer admitted having seen you; declared (what seemed +improbable) that he had given you considerable sums; and that you had +started for the continent of Europe, intending to fulfil your education, +which was probable and praiseworthy. Interrogated how you had come to +send no word to Mr. Campbell, he deponed that you had expressed a great +desire to break with your past life. Further interrogated where you now +were, protested ignorance, but believed you were in Leyden. That is a +close sum of his replies. I am not exactly sure that any one believed +him," continued Mr. Rankeillor with a smile; "and in particular he so +much disrelished me expressions of mine that (in a word) he showed me to +the door. We were then at a full stand; for whatever shrewd suspicions +we might entertain, we had no shadow of probation. In the very article, +comes Captain Hoseason with the story of your drowning; whereupon all +fell through; with no consequences but concern to Mr. Campbell, injury +to my pocket, and another blot upon your uncle's character, which could +very ill afford it. And now, Mr. Balfour," said he, "you understand +the whole process of these matters, and can judge for yourself to what +extent I may be trusted." + +Indeed he was more pedantic than I can represent him, and placed more +scraps of Latin in his speech; but it was all uttered with a fine +geniality of eye and manner which went far to conquer my distrust. +Moreover, I could see he now treated me as if I was myself beyond a +doubt; so that first point of my identity seemed fully granted. + +"Sir," said I, "if I tell you my story, I must commit a friend's life +to your discretion. Pass me your word it shall be sacred; and for what +touches myself, I will ask no better guarantee than just your face." + +He passed me his word very seriously. "But," said he, "these are rather +alarming prolocutions; and if there are in your story any little jostles +to the law, I would beg you to bear in mind that I am a lawyer, and pass +lightly." + +Thereupon I told him my story from the first, he listening with his +spectacles thrust up and his eyes closed, so that I sometimes feared +he was asleep. But no such matter! he heard every word (as I found +afterward) with such quickness of hearing and precision of memory as +often surprised me. Even strange outlandish Gaelic names, heard for that +time only, he remembered and would remind me of, years after. Yet when I +called Alan Breck in full, we had an odd scene. The name of Alan had of +course rung through Scotland, with the news of the Appin murder and the +offer of the reward; and it had no sooner escaped me than the lawyer +moved in his seat and opened his eyes. + +"I would name no unnecessary names, Mr. Balfour," said he; "above all of +Highlanders, many of whom are obnoxious to the law." + +"Well, it might have been better not," said I, "but since I have let it +slip, I may as well continue." + +"Not at all," said Mr. Rankeillor. "I am somewhat dull of hearing, as +you may have remarked; and I am far from sure I caught the name exactly. +We will call your friend, if you please, Mr. Thomson--that there may +be no reflections. And in future, I would take some such way with any +Highlander that you may have to mention--dead or alive." + +By this, I saw he must have heard the name all too clearly, and had +already guessed I might be coming to the murder. If he chose to play +this part of ignorance, it was no matter of mine; so I smiled, said it +was no very Highland-sounding name, and consented. Through all the rest +of my story Alan was Mr. Thomson; which amused me the more, as it was a +piece of policy after his own heart. James Stewart, in like manner, +was mentioned under the style of Mr. Thomson's kinsman; Colin Campbell +passed as a Mr. Glen; and to Cluny, when I came to that part of my tale, +I gave the name of "Mr. Jameson, a Highland chief." It was truly the +most open farce, and I wondered that the lawyer should care to keep it +up; but, after all, it was quite in the taste of that age, when there +were two parties in the state, and quiet persons, with no very high +opinions of their own, sought out every cranny to avoid offence to +either. + +"Well, well," said the lawyer, when I had quite done, "this is a great +epic, a great Odyssey of yours. You must tell it, sir, in a sound +Latinity when your scholarship is riper; or in English if you please, +though for my part I prefer the stronger tongue. You have rolled +much; quae regio in terris--what parish in Scotland (to make a homely +translation) has not been filled with your wanderings? You have shown, +besides, a singular aptitude for getting into false positions; and, yes, +upon the whole, for behaving well in them. This Mr. Thomson seems to +me a gentleman of some choice qualities, though perhaps a trifle +bloody-minded. It would please me none the worse, if (with all his +merits) he were soused in the North Sea, for the man, Mr. David, is a +sore embarrassment. But you are doubtless quite right to adhere to him; +indubitably, he adhered to you. It comes--we may say--he was your true +companion; nor less paribus curis vestigia figit, for I dare say you +would both take an orra thought upon the gallows. Well, well, these days +are fortunately by; and I think (speaking humanly) that you are near +the end of your troubles." + +As he thus moralised on my adventures, he looked upon me with so much +humour and benignity that I could scarce contain my satisfaction. I had +been so long wandering with lawless people, and making my bed upon the +hills and under the bare sky, that to sit once more in a clean, covered +house, and to talk amicably with a gentleman in broadcloth, seemed +mighty elevations. Even as I thought so, my eye fell on my unseemly +tatters, and I was once more plunged in confusion. But the lawyer saw +and understood me. He rose, called over the stair to lay another plate, +for Mr. Balfour would stay to dinner, and led me into a bedroom in the +upper part of the house. Here he set before me water and soap, and a +comb; and laid out some clothes that belonged to his son; and here, with +another apposite tag, he left me to my toilet. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE + +I made what change I could in my appearance; and blithe was I to look in +the glass and find the beggarman a thing of the past, and David Balfour +come to life again. And yet I was ashamed of the change too, and, above +all, of the borrowed clothes. When I had done, Mr. Rankeillor caught +me on the stair, made me his compliments, and had me again into the +cabinet. + +"Sit ye down, Mr. David," said he, "and now that you are looking a +little more like yourself, let me see if I can find you any news. You +will be wondering, no doubt, about your father and your uncle? To be +sure it is a singular tale; and the explanation is one that I blush to +have to offer you. For," says he, really with embarrassment, "the matter +hinges on a love affair." + +"Truly," said I, "I cannot very well join that notion with my uncle." + +"But your uncle, Mr. David, was not always old," replied the lawyer, +"and what may perhaps surprise you more, not always ugly. He had a fine, +gallant air; people stood in their doors to look after him, as he +went by upon a mettle horse. I have seen it with these eyes, and I +ingenuously confess, not altogether without envy; for I was a plain lad +myself and a plain man's son; and in those days it was a case of Odi te, +qui bellus es, Sabelle." + +"It sounds like a dream," said I. + +"Ay, ay," said the lawyer, "that is how it is with youth and age. Nor +was that all, but he had a spirit of his own that seemed to promise +great things in the future. In 1715, what must he do but run away to +join the rebels? It was your father that pursued him, found him in a +ditch, and brought him back multum gementem; to the mirth of the whole +country. However, majora canamus--the two lads fell in love, and that +with the same lady. Mr. Ebenezer, who was the admired and the beloved, +and the spoiled one, made, no doubt, mighty certain of the victory; +and when he found he had deceived himself, screamed like a peacock. +The whole country heard of it; now he lay sick at home, with his silly +family standing round the bed in tears; now he rode from public-house +to public-house, and shouted his sorrows into the lug of Tom, Dick, and +Harry. Your father, Mr. David, was a kind gentleman; but he was weak, +dolefully weak; took all this folly with a long countenance; and one +day--by your leave!--resigned the lady. She was no such fool, however; +it's from her you must inherit your excellent good sense; and she +refused to be bandied from one to another. Both got upon their knees +to her; and the upshot of the matter for that while was that she showed +both of them the door. That was in August; dear me! the same year I came +from college. The scene must have been highly farcical." + +I thought myself it was a silly business, but I could not forget my +father had a hand in it. "Surely, sir, it had some note of tragedy," +said I. + +"Why, no, sir, not at all," returned the lawyer. "For tragedy implies +some ponderable matter in dispute, some dignus vindice nodus; and this +piece of work was all about the petulance of a young ass that had been +spoiled, and wanted nothing so much as to be tied up and soundly belted. +However, that was not your father's view; and the end of it was, that +from concession to concession on your father's part, and from one height +to another of squalling, sentimental selfishness upon your uncle's, they +came at last to drive a sort of bargain, from whose ill results you have +recently been smarting. The one man took the lady, the other the estate. +Now, Mr. David, they talk a great deal of charity and generosity; but in +this disputable state of life, I often think the happiest consequences +seem to flow when a gentleman consults his lawyer, and takes all the law +allows him. Anyhow, this piece of Quixotry on your father's part, as +it was unjust in itself, has brought forth a monstrous family of +injustices. Your father and mother lived and died poor folk; you were +poorly reared; and in the meanwhile, what a time it has been for the +tenants on the estate of Shaws! And I might add (if it was a matter I +cared much about) what a time for Mr. Ebenezer!" + +"And yet that is certainly the strangest part of all," said I, "that a +man's nature should thus change." + +"True," said Mr. Rankeillor. "And yet I imagine it was natural enough. +He could not think that he had played a handsome part. Those who knew +the story gave him the cold shoulder; those who knew it not, seeing one +brother disappear, and the other succeed in the estate, raised a cry of +murder; so that upon all sides he found himself evited. Money was all +he got by his bargain; well, he came to think the more of money. He was +selfish when he was young, he is selfish now that he is old; and the +latter end of all these pretty manners and fine feelings you have seen +for yourself." + +"Well, sir," said I, "and in all this, what is my position?" + +"The estate is yours beyond a doubt," replied the lawyer. "It matters +nothing what your father signed, you are the heir of entail. But your +uncle is a man to fight the indefensible; and it would be likely your +identity that he would call in question. A lawsuit is always expensive, +and a family lawsuit always scandalous; besides which, if any of your +doings with your friend Mr. Thomson were to come out, we might find that +we had burned our fingers. The kidnapping, to be sure, would be a court +card upon our side, if we could only prove it. But it may be difficult +to prove; and my advice (upon the whole) is to make a very easy bargain +with your uncle, perhaps even leaving him at Shaws where he has +taken root for a quarter of a century, and contenting yourself in the +meanwhile with a fair provision." + +I told him I was very willing to be easy, and that to carry family +concerns before the public was a step from which I was naturally much +averse. In the meantime (thinking to myself) I began to see the outlines +of that scheme on which we afterwards acted. + +"The great affair," I asked, "is to bring home to him the kidnapping?" + +"Surely," said Mr. Rankeillor, "and if possible, out of court. For mark +you here, Mr. David: we could no doubt find some men of the Covenant who +would swear to your reclusion; but once they were in the box, we could +no longer check their testimony, and some word of your friend Mr. +Thomson must certainly crop out. Which (from what you have let fall) I +cannot think to be desirable." + +"Well, sir," said I, "here is my way of it." And I opened my plot to +him. + +"But this would seem to involve my meeting the man Thomson?" says he, +when I had done. + +"I think so, indeed, sir," said I. + +"Dear doctor!" cries he, rubbing his brow. "Dear doctor! No, Mr. David, +I am afraid your scheme is inadmissible. I say nothing against your +friend, Mr. Thomson: I know nothing against him; and if I did--mark +this, Mr. David!--it would be my duty to lay hands on him. Now I put it +to you: is it wise to meet? He may have matters to his charge. He may +not have told you all. His name may not be even Thomson!" cries the +lawyer, twinkling; "for some of these fellows will pick up names by the +roadside as another would gather haws." + +"You must be the judge, sir," said I. + +But it was clear my plan had taken hold upon his fancy, for he kept +musing to himself till we were called to dinner and the company of Mrs. +Rankeillor; and that lady had scarce left us again to ourselves and a +bottle of wine, ere he was back harping on my proposal. When and where +was I to meet my friend Mr. Thomson; was I sure of Mr. T.'s discretion; +supposing we could catch the old fox tripping, would I consent to such +and such a term of an agreement--these and the like questions he kept +asking at long intervals, while he thoughtfully rolled his wine upon his +tongue. When I had answered all of them, seemingly to his contentment, +he fell into a still deeper muse, even the claret being now forgotten. +Then he got a sheet of paper and a pencil, and set to work writing and +weighing every word; and at last touched a bell and had his clerk into +the chamber. + +"Torrance," said he, "I must have this written out fair against +to-night; and when it is done, you will be so kind as put on your hat +and be ready to come along with this gentleman and me, for you will +probably be wanted as a witness." + +"What, sir," cried I, as soon as the clerk was gone, "are you to venture +it?" + +"Why, so it would appear," says he, filling his glass. "But let us speak +no more of business. The very sight of Torrance brings in my head a +little droll matter of some years ago, when I had made a tryst with the +poor oaf at the cross of Edinburgh. Each had gone his proper errand; and +when it came four o'clock, Torrance had been taking a glass and did +not know his master, and I, who had forgot my spectacles, was so blind +without them, that I give you my word I did not know my own clerk." And +thereupon he laughed heartily. + +I said it was an odd chance, and smiled out of politeness; but what held +me all the afternoon in wonder, he kept returning and dwelling on this +story, and telling it again with fresh details and laughter; so that I +began at last to be quite put out of countenance and feel ashamed for my +friend's folly. + +Towards the time I had appointed with Alan, we set out from the house, +Mr. Rankeillor and I arm in arm, and Torrance following behind with the +deed in his pocket and a covered basket in his hand. All through the +town, the lawyer was bowing right and left, and continually being +button-holed by gentlemen on matters of burgh or private business; and I +could see he was one greatly looked up to in the county. At last we were +clear of the houses, and began to go along the side of the haven and +towards the Hawes Inn and the Ferry pier, the scene of my misfortune. I +could not look upon the place without emotion, recalling how many that +had been there with me that day were now no more: Ransome taken, I could +hope, from the evil to come; Shuan passed where I dared not follow him; +and the poor souls that had gone down with the brig in her last plunge. +All these, and the brig herself, I had outlived; and come through these +hardships and fearful perils without scath. My only thought should have +been of gratitude; and yet I could not behold the place without sorrow +for others and a chill of recollected fear. + +I was so thinking when, upon a sudden, Mr. Rankeillor cried out, clapped +his hand to his pockets, and began to laugh. + +"Why," he cries, "if this be not a farcical adventure! After all that I +said, I have forgot my glasses!" + +At that, of course, I understood the purpose of his anecdote, and knew +that if he had left his spectacles at home, it had been done on purpose, +so that he might have the benefit of Alan's help without the awkwardness +of recognising him. And indeed it was well thought upon; for now +(suppose things to go the very worst) how could Rankeillor swear to +my friend's identity, or how be made to bear damaging evidence against +myself? For all that, he had been a long while of finding out his want, +and had spoken to and recognised a good few persons as we came through +the town; and I had little doubt myself that he saw reasonably well. + +As soon as we were past the Hawes (where I recognised the landlord +smoking his pipe in the door, and was amazed to see him look no older) +Mr. Rankeillor changed the order of march, walking behind with Torrance +and sending me forward in the manner of a scout. I went up the hill, +whistling from time to time my Gaelic air; and at length I had the +pleasure to hear it answered and to see Alan rise from behind a bush. He +was somewhat dashed in spirits, having passed a long day alone skulking +in the county, and made but a poor meal in an alehouse near Dundas. But +at the mere sight of my clothes, he began to brighten up; and as soon as +I had told him in what a forward state our matters were and the part I +looked to him to play in what remained, he sprang into a new man. + +"And that is a very good notion of yours," says he; "and I dare to say +that you could lay your hands upon no better man to put it through than +Alan Breck. It is not a thing (mark ye) that any one could do, but takes +a gentleman of penetration. But it sticks in my head your lawyer-man +will be somewhat wearying to see me," says Alan. + +Accordingly I cried and waved on Mr. Rankeillor, who came up alone and +was presented to my friend, Mr. Thomson. + +"Mr. Thomson, I am pleased to meet you," said he. "But I have forgotten +my glasses; and our friend, Mr. David here" (clapping me on the +shoulder), "will tell you that I am little better than blind, and that +you must not be surprised if I pass you by to-morrow." + +This he said, thinking that Alan would be pleased; but the Highlandman's +vanity was ready to startle at a less matter than that. + +"Why, sir," says he, stiffly, "I would say it mattered the less as we +are met here for a particular end, to see justice done to Mr. Balfour; +and by what I can see, not very likely to have much else in common. But +I accept your apology, which was a very proper one to make." + +"And that is more than I could look for, Mr. Thomson," said Rankeillor, +heartily. "And now as you and I are the chief actors in this enterprise, +I think we should come into a nice agreement; to which end, I propose +that you should lend me your arm, for (what with the dusk and the want +of my glasses) I am not very clear as to the path; and as for you, Mr. +David, you will find Torrance a pleasant kind of body to speak with. +Only let me remind you, it's quite needless he should hear more of your +adventures or those of--ahem--Mr. Thomson." + +Accordingly these two went on ahead in very close talk, and Torrance and +I brought up the rear. + +Night was quite come when we came in view of the house of Shaws. Ten +had been gone some time; it was dark and mild, with a pleasant, rustling +wind in the south-west that covered the sound of our approach; and as we +drew near we saw no glimmer of light in any portion of the building. It +seemed my uncle was already in bed, which was indeed the best thing for +our arrangements. We made our last whispered consultations some fifty +yards away; and then the lawyer and Torrance and I crept quietly up and +crouched down beside the corner of the house; and as soon as we were +in our places, Alan strode to the door without concealment and began to +knock. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +I COME INTO MY KINGDOM + +For some time Alan volleyed upon the door, and his knocking only roused +the echoes of the house and neighbourhood. At last, however, I could +hear the noise of a window gently thrust up, and knew that my uncle +had come to his observatory. By what light there was, he would see Alan +standing, like a dark shadow, on the steps; the three witnesses were +hidden quite out of his view; so that there was nothing to alarm an +honest man in his own house. For all that, he studied his visitor awhile +in silence, and when he spoke his voice had a quaver of misgiving. + +"What's this?" says he. "This is nae kind of time of night for decent +folk; and I hae nae trokings* wi' night-hawks. What brings ye here? I +have a blunderbush." + + * Dealings. + +"Is that yoursel', Mr. Balfour?" returned Alan, stepping back and +looking up into the darkness. "Have a care of that blunderbuss; they're +nasty things to burst." + +"What brings ye here? and whae are ye?" says my uncle, angrily. + +"I have no manner of inclination to rowt out my name to the +country-side," said Alan; "but what brings me here is another story, +being more of your affair than mine; and if ye're sure it's what ye +would like, I'll set it to a tune and sing it to you." + +"And what is't?" asked my uncle. + +"David," says Alan. + +"What was that?" cried my uncle, in a mighty changed voice. + +"Shall I give ye the rest of the name, then?" said Alan. + +There was a pause; and then, "I'm thinking I'll better let ye in," says +my uncle, doubtfully. + +"I dare say that," said Alan; "but the point is, Would I go? Now I will +tell you what I am thinking. I am thinking that it is here upon this +doorstep that we must confer upon this business; and it shall be here or +nowhere at all whatever; for I would have you to understand that I am as +stiffnecked as yoursel', and a gentleman of better family." + +This change of note disconcerted Ebenezer; he was a little while +digesting it, and then says he, "Weel, weel, what must be must," and +shut the window. But it took him a long time to get down-stairs, and a +still longer to undo the fastenings, repenting (I dare say) and taken +with fresh claps of fear at every second step and every bolt and bar. At +last, however, we heard the creak of the hinges, and it seems my uncle +slipped gingerly out and (seeing that Alan had stepped back a pace or +two) sate him down on the top doorstep with the blunderbuss ready in his +hands. + +"And, now" says he, "mind I have my blunderbush, and if ye take a step +nearer ye're as good as deid." + +"And a very civil speech," says Alan, "to be sure." + +"Na," says my uncle, "but this is no a very chanty kind of a proceeding, +and I'm bound to be prepared. And now that we understand each other, +ye'll can name your business." + +"Why," says Alan, "you that are a man of so much understanding, will +doubtless have perceived that I am a Hieland gentleman. My name has nae +business in my story; but the county of my friends is no very far from +the Isle of Mull, of which ye will have heard. It seems there was a +ship lost in those parts; and the next day a gentleman of my family was +seeking wreck-wood for his fire along the sands, when he came upon a lad +that was half drowned. Well, he brought him to; and he and some other +gentleman took and clapped him in an auld, ruined castle, where from +that day to this he has been a great expense to my friends. My friends +are a wee wild-like, and not so particular about the law as some that +I could name; and finding that the lad owned some decent folk, and was +your born nephew, Mr. Balfour, they asked me to give ye a bit call and +confer upon the matter. And I may tell ye at the off-go, unless we can +agree upon some terms, ye are little likely to set eyes upon him. For my +friends," added Alan, simply, "are no very well off." + +My uncle cleared his throat. "I'm no very caring," says he. "He wasnae a +good lad at the best of it, and I've nae call to interfere." + +"Ay, ay," said Alan, "I see what ye would be at: pretending ye don't +care, to make the ransom smaller." + +"Na," said my uncle, "it's the mere truth. I take nae manner of interest +in the lad, and I'll pay nae ransome, and ye can make a kirk and a mill +of him for what I care." + +"Hoot, sir," says Alan. "Blood's thicker than water, in the deil's name! +Ye cannae desert your brother's son for the fair shame of it; and if +ye did, and it came to be kennt, ye wouldnae be very popular in your +country-side, or I'm the more deceived." + +"I'm no just very popular the way it is," returned Ebenezer; "and I +dinnae see how it would come to be kennt. No by me, onyway; nor yet by +you or your friends. So that's idle talk, my buckie," says he. + +"Then it'll have to be David that tells it," said Alan. + +"How that?" says my uncle, sharply. + +"Ou, just this way," says Alan. "My friends would doubtless keep your +nephew as long as there was any likelihood of siller to be made of it, +but if there was nane, I am clearly of opinion they would let him gang +where he pleased, and be damned to him!" + +"Ay, but I'm no very caring about that either," said my uncle. "I +wouldnae be muckle made up with that." + +"I was thinking that," said Alan. + +"And what for why?" asked Ebenezer. + +"Why, Mr. Balfour," replied Alan, "by all that I could hear, there were +two ways of it: either ye liked David and would pay to get him back; or +else ye had very good reasons for not wanting him, and would pay for us +to keep him. It seems it's not the first; well then, it's the second; +and blythe am I to ken it, for it should be a pretty penny in my pocket +and the pockets of my friends." + +"I dinnae follow ye there," said my uncle. + +"No?" said Alan. "Well, see here: you dinnae want the lad back; well, +what do ye want done with him, and how much will ye pay?" + +My uncle made no answer, but shifted uneasily on his seat. + +"Come, sir," cried Alan. "I would have you to ken that I am a gentleman; +I bear a king's name; I am nae rider to kick my shanks at your hall +door. Either give me an answer in civility, and that out of hand; or by +the top of Glencoe, I will ram three feet of iron through your vitals." + +"Eh, man," cried my uncle, scrambling to his feet, "give me a meenit! +What's like wrong with ye? I'm just a plain man and nae dancing master; +and I'm tryin to be as ceevil as it's morally possible. As for that wild +talk, it's fair disrepitable. Vitals, says you! And where would I be +with my blunderbush?" he snarled. + +"Powder and your auld hands are but as the snail to the swallow against +the bright steel in the hands of Alan," said the other. "Before your +jottering finger could find the trigger, the hilt would dirl on your +breast-bane." + +"Eh, man, whae's denying it?" said my uncle. "Pit it as ye please, hae't +your ain way; I'll do naething to cross ye. Just tell me what like ye'll +be wanting, and ye'll see that we'll can agree fine." + +"Troth, sir," said Alan, "I ask for nothing but plain dealing. In two +words: do ye want the lad killed or kept?" + +"O, sirs!" cried Ebenezer. "O, sirs, me! that's no kind of language!" + +"Killed or kept!" repeated Alan. + +"O, keepit, keepit!" wailed my uncle. "We'll have nae bloodshed, if you +please." + +"Well," says Alan, "as ye please; that'll be the dearer." + +"The dearer?" cries Ebenezer. "Would ye fyle your hands wi' crime?" + +"Hoot!" said Alan, "they're baith crime, whatever! And the killing's +easier, and quicker, and surer. Keeping the lad'll be a fashious* job, a +fashious, kittle business." + + * Troublesome. + +"I'll have him keepit, though," returned my uncle. "I never had naething +to do with onything morally wrong; and I'm no gaun to begin to pleasure +a wild Hielandman." + +"Ye're unco scrupulous," sneered Alan. + +"I'm a man o' principle," said Ebenezer, simply; "and if I have to pay +for it, I'll have to pay for it. And besides," says he, "ye forget the +lad's my brother's son." + +"Well, well," said Alan, "and now about the price. It's no very easy for +me to set a name upon it; I would first have to ken some small matters. +I would have to ken, for instance, what ye gave Hoseason at the first +off-go?" + +"Hoseason!" cries my uncle, struck aback. "What for?" + +"For kidnapping David," says Alan. + +"It's a lee, it's a black lee!" cried my uncle. "He was never kidnapped. +He leed in his throat that tauld ye that. Kidnapped? He never was!" + +"That's no fault of mine nor yet of yours," said Alan; "nor yet of +Hoseason's, if he's a man that can be trusted." + +"What do ye mean?" cried Ebenezer. "Did Hoseason tell ye?" + +"Why, ye donnered auld runt, how else would I ken?" cried Alan. +"Hoseason and me are partners; we gang shares; so ye can see for +yoursel' what good ye can do leeing. And I must plainly say ye drove a +fool's bargain when ye let a man like the sailor-man so far forward in +your private matters. But that's past praying for; and ye must lie on +your bed the way ye made it. And the point in hand is just this: what +did ye pay him?" + +"Has he tauld ye himsel'?" asked my uncle. + +"That's my concern," said Alan. + +"Weel," said my uncle, "I dinnae care what he said, he leed, and the +solemn God's truth is this, that I gave him twenty pound. But I'll be +perfec'ly honest with ye: forby that, he was to have the selling of the +lad in Caroliny, whilk would be as muckle mair, but no from my pocket, +ye see." + +"Thank you, Mr. Thomson. That will do excellently well," said the +lawyer, stepping forward; and then mighty civilly, "Good-evening, Mr. +Balfour," said he. + +And, "Good-evening, Uncle Ebenezer," said I. + +And, "It's a braw nicht, Mr. Balfour," added Torrance. + +Never a word said my uncle, neither black nor white; but just sat where +he was on the top door-step and stared upon us like a man turned to +stone. Alan filched away his blunderbuss; and the lawyer, taking him +by the arm, plucked him up from the doorstep, led him into the kitchen, +whither we all followed, and set him down in a chair beside the hearth, +where the fire was out and only a rush-light burning. + +There we all looked upon him for a while, exulting greatly in our +success, but yet with a sort of pity for the man's shame. + +"Come, come, Mr. Ebenezer," said the lawyer, "you must not be +down-hearted, for I promise you we shall make easy terms. In the +meanwhile give us the cellar key, and Torrance shall draw us a bottle +of your father's wine in honour of the event." Then, turning to me and +taking me by the hand, "Mr. David," says he, "I wish you all joy in your +good fortune, which I believe to be deserved." And then to Alan, with +a spice of drollery, "Mr. Thomson, I pay you my compliment; it was +most artfully conducted; but in one point you somewhat outran my +comprehension. Do I understand your name to be James? or Charles? or is +it George, perhaps?" + +"And why should it be any of the three, sir?" quoth Alan, drawing +himself up, like one who smelt an offence. + +"Only, sir, that you mentioned a king's name," replied Rankeillor; "and +as there has never yet been a King Thomson, or his fame at least has +never come my way, I judged you must refer to that you had in baptism." + +This was just the stab that Alan would feel keenest, and I am free to +confess he took it very ill. Not a word would he answer, but stepped off +to the far end of the kitchen, and sat down and sulked; and it was not +till I stepped after him, and gave him my hand, and thanked him by title +as the chief spring of my success, that he began to smile a bit, and was +at last prevailed upon to join our party. + +By that time we had the fire lighted, and a bottle of wine uncorked; a +good supper came out of the basket, to which Torrance and I and Alan +set ourselves down; while the lawyer and my uncle passed into the next +chamber to consult. They stayed there closeted about an hour; at the end +of which period they had come to a good understanding, and my uncle and +I set our hands to the agreement in a formal manner. By the terms +of this, my uncle bound himself to satisfy Rankeillor as to his +intromissions, and to pay me two clear thirds of the yearly income of +Shaws. + +So the beggar in the ballad had come home; and when I lay down that +night on the kitchen chests, I was a man of means and had a name in the +country. Alan and Torrance and Rankeillor slept and snored on their hard +beds; but for me who had lain out under heaven and upon dirt and stones, +so many days and nights, and often with an empty belly, and in fear +of death, this good change in my case unmanned me more than any of the +former evil ones; and I lay till dawn, looking at the fire on the roof +and planning the future. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +GOOD-BYE + +So far as I was concerned myself, I had come to port; but I had still +Alan, to whom I was so much beholden, on my hands; and I felt besides a +heavy charge in the matter of the murder and James of the Glens. On both +these heads I unbosomed to Rankeillor the next morning, walking to and +fro about six of the clock before the house of Shaws, and with nothing +in view but the fields and woods that had been my ancestors' and were +now mine. Even as I spoke on these grave subjects, my eye would take a +glad bit of a run over the prospect, and my heart jump with pride. + +About my clear duty to my friend, the lawyer had no doubt. I must help +him out of the county at whatever risk; but in the case of James, he was +of a different mind. + +"Mr. Thomson," says he, "is one thing, Mr. Thomson's kinsman quite +another. I know little of the facts, but I gather that a great noble +(whom we will call, if you like, the D. of A.)* has some concern and +is even supposed to feel some animosity in the matter. The D. of A. is +doubtless an excellent nobleman; but, Mr. David, timeo qui nocuere deos. +If you interfere to balk his vengeance, you should remember there is +one way to shut your testimony out; and that is to put you in the dock. +There, you would be in the same pickle as Mr. Thomson's kinsman. You +will object that you are innocent; well, but so is he. And to be tried +for your life before a Highland jury, on a Highland quarrel and with +a Highland Judge upon the bench, would be a brief transition to the +gallows." + + * The Duke of Argyle. + +Now I had made all these reasonings before and found no very good reply +to them; so I put on all the simplicity I could. "In that case, sir," +said I, "I would just have to be hanged--would I not?" + +"My dear boy," cries he, "go in God's name, and do what you think is +right. It is a poor thought that at my time of life I should be advising +you to choose the safe and shameful; and I take it back with an apology. +Go and do your duty; and be hanged, if you must, like a gentleman. There +are worse things in the world than to be hanged." + +"Not many, sir," said I, smiling. + +"Why, yes, sir," he cried, "very many. And it would be ten times better +for your uncle (to go no farther afield) if he were dangling decently +upon a gibbet." + +Thereupon he turned into the house (still in a great fervour of mind, +so that I saw I had pleased him heartily) and there he wrote me two +letters, making his comments on them as he wrote. + +"This," says he, "is to my bankers, the British Linen Company, placing a +credit to your name. Consult Mr. Thomson, he will know of ways; and +you, with this credit, can supply the means. I trust you will be a good +husband of your money; but in the affair of a friend like Mr. Thomson, +I would be even prodigal. Then for his kinsman, there is no better way +than that you should seek the Advocate, tell him your tale, and offer +testimony; whether he may take it or not, is quite another matter, and +will turn on the D. of A. Now, that you may reach the Lord Advocate well +recommended, I give you here a letter to a namesake of your own, the +learned Mr. Balfour of Pilrig, a man whom I esteem. It will look better +that you should be presented by one of your own name; and the laird of +Pilrig is much looked up to in the Faculty and stands well with Lord +Advocate Grant. I would not trouble him, if I were you, with any +particulars; and (do you know?) I think it would be needless to refer to +Mr. Thomson. Form yourself upon the laird, he is a good model; when you +deal with the Advocate, be discreet; and in all these matters, may the +Lord guide you, Mr. David!" + +Thereupon he took his farewell, and set out with Torrance for the Ferry, +while Alan and I turned our faces for the city of Edinburgh. As we went +by the footpath and beside the gateposts and the unfinished lodge, we +kept looking back at the house of my fathers. It stood there, bare and +great and smokeless, like a place not lived in; only in one of the top +windows, there was the peak of a nightcap bobbing up and down and back +and forward, like the head of a rabbit from a burrow. I had little +welcome when I came, and less kindness while I stayed; but at least I +was watched as I went away. + +Alan and I went slowly forward upon our way, having little heart either +to walk or speak. The same thought was uppermost in both, that we were +near the time of our parting; and remembrance of all the bygone days +sate upon us sorely. We talked indeed of what should be done; and it +was resolved that Alan should keep to the county, biding now here, now +there, but coming once in the day to a particular place where I might be +able to communicate with him, either in my own person or by messenger. +In the meanwhile, I was to seek out a lawyer, who was an Appin Stewart, +and a man therefore to be wholly trusted; and it should be his part to +find a ship and to arrange for Alan's safe embarkation. No sooner was +this business done, than the words seemed to leave us; and though I +would seek to jest with Alan under the name of Mr. Thomson, and he with +me on my new clothes and my estate, you could feel very well that we +were nearer tears than laughter. + +We came the by-way over the hill of Corstorphine; and when we got +near to the place called Rest-and-be-Thankful, and looked down on +Corstorphine bogs and over to the city and the castle on the hill, we +both stopped, for we both knew without a word said that we had come to +where our ways parted. Here he repeated to me once again what had been +agreed upon between us: the address of the lawyer, the daily hour at +which Alan might be found, and the signals that were to be made by any +that came seeking him. Then I gave what money I had (a guinea or two of +Rankeillor's) so that he should not starve in the meanwhile; and then we +stood a space, and looked over at Edinburgh in silence. + +"Well, good-bye," said Alan, and held out his left hand. + +"Good-bye," said I, and gave the hand a little grasp, and went off down +hill. + +Neither one of us looked the other in the face, nor so long as he was in +my view did I take one back glance at the friend I was leaving. But as +I went on my way to the city, I felt so lost and lonesome, that I could +have found it in my heart to sit down by the dyke, and cry and weep like +any baby. + +It was coming near noon when I passed in by the West Kirk and the +Grassmarket into the streets of the capital. The huge height of the +buildings, running up to ten and fifteen storeys, the narrow arched +entries that continually vomited passengers, the wares of the merchants +in their windows, the hubbub and endless stir, the foul smells and the +fine clothes, and a hundred other particulars too small to mention, +struck me into a kind of stupor of surprise, so that I let the crowd +carry me to and fro; and yet all the time what I was thinking of was +Alan at Rest-and-be-Thankful; and all the time (although you would think +I would not choose but be delighted with these braws and novelties) +there was a cold gnawing in my inside like a remorse for something +wrong. + +The hand of Providence brought me in my drifting to the very doors of +the British Linen Company's bank. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Kidnapped, by Robert Louis Stevenson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KIDNAPPED *** + +***** This file should be named 421.txt or 421.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/421/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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