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diff --git a/40014.txt b/40014.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 442167b..0000000 --- a/40014.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11595 +0,0 @@ - JOHN BURNET OF BARNS - - - - -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 http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Title: John Burnet of Barns - A Romance - -Author: John Buchan - -Release Date: June 17, 2012 [EBook #40014] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHN BURNET OF BARNS *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - - - John Burnet of Barns - - _A Romance_ - - - BY - - JOHN BUCHAN - - - - - TORONTO: - THE COPP, CLARK COMPANY, LIMITED. - 1899. - - - - - Copyright, 1898 - BY JOHN LANE - - - - Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one - thousand eight hundred and ninety-nine, by THE COPP CLARK -COMPANY, LIMITED, Toronto, in the Office of the Minister of Agriculture. - - - - TO THE MEMORY OF - MY SISTER - VIOLET KATHARINE STUART - - - - [Greek: Aster prin men elampes eni zooisin Heoos, - nun de oanon lampeis Hesperos en phthimenois.] - - - [Transcriber's note: the above Greek was transcribed - from a poor-quality scan, so may not be quite correct] - - - - - Contents - - - BOOK I--TWEEDDALE - - -CHAPTER - - I. THE ADVENTURE WHICH BEFELL ME IN THE WOOD OF DAWYCK - II. THE HOUSE OF BARNS - III. THE SPATE IN TWEED - IV. I GO TO THE COLLEGE AT GLASGOW - V. COUSINLY AFFECTION - VI. HOW MASTER GILBERT BURNET PLAYED A GAME AND WAS CHECKMATED - VII. THE PEGASUS INN AT PEEBLES AND HOW A STRANGER RETURNED FROM THE - WARS - VIII. I TAKE LEAVE OF MY FRIENDS - IX. I RIDE OUT ON MY TRAVELS AND FIND A COMPANION - - - BOOK II--THE LOW COUNTRIES - - I. OF MY VOYAGE TO THE LOW COUNTRIES - II. I VISIT MASTER PETER WISHART - III. THE STORY OF A SUPPER PARTY - IV. OUR ADVENTURE ON THE ALPHEN ROAD - V. THE FIRST SUNDAY OF MARCH - VI. THE FIRST MONDAY OF MARCH - VII. I SPEND MY DAYS IN IDLENESS - VIII. THE COMING OF THE BRIG SEAMAW - IX. AN ACCOUNT OF MY HOME-COMING - - - BOOK III--THE HILLMEN - - I. THE PIER O' LEITH - II. HOW I RODE TO THE SOUTH - III. THE HOUSE OF DAWYCK - IV. HOW MICHAEL VEITCH MET HIS END - V. I CLAIM A PROMISE, AND WE SEEK THE HILLS - VI. THE CAVE OF THE COR WATER - VII. HOW TWO OF HIS MAJESTY'S SERVANTS MET WITH THEIR DESERTS - VIII. OF OUR WANDERINGS AMONG THE MOORS OF CLYDE - IX. I PART FROM MARJORY - X. OF THE MAN WITH THE ONE EYE AND THE ENCOUNTER IN THE GREEN - CLEUCH - XI. HOW A MILLER STROVE WITH HIS OWN MILL-WHEEL - XII. I WITNESS A VALIANT ENDING - XIII. I RUN A NARROW ESCAPE FOR MY LIFE - XIV. I FALL IN WITH STRANGE FRIENDS - XV. THE BAILLIES OF NO MAN'S LAND - XVI. HOW THREE MEN HELD A TOWN IN TERROR - XVII. OF THE FIGHT IN THE MOSS OF BIGGAR - XVIII. SMITWOOD - - - BOOK IV--THE WESTLANDS - - I. I HEAR NO GOOD IN THE INN AT THE FORDS O' CLYDE - II. AN OLD JOURNEY WITH A NEW ERRAND - III. THE HOUSE WITH THE CHIPPED GABLES - IV. UP HILL AND DOWN DALE - V. EAGLESHAM - VI. I MAKE MY PEACE WITH GILBERT BURNET - VII. OF A VOICE IN THE EVENTIDE - VIII. HOW NICOL PLENDERLEITH SOUGHT HIS FORTUNE ELSEWHERE - IX. THE END OF ALL THINGS - - - - - John Burnet of Barns - - - - - BOOK I--TWEEDDALE - - - - CHAPTER I - - THE ADVENTURE WHICH BEFELL ME IN THE WOOD OF DAWYCK - - -I have taken in hand to write this, the history of my life, not without -much misgiving of heart; for my memory at the best is a bad one, and of -many things I have no clear remembrance. And the making of tales is an -art unknown to me, so he who may read must not look for any great skill -in the setting down. Yet I am emboldened to the work, for my life has -been lived in stirring times and amid many strange scenes which may not -wholly lack interest for those who live in quieter days. And above all, -I am desirous that they of my family should read of my life and learn -the qualities both good and bad which run in the race, and so the better -be able to resist the evil and do the good. - -My course, by the will of God, has had something of a method about it, -which makes the telling the more easy. For, as I look back upon it from -the vantage ground of time, all seems spread out plain and clear in an -ordered path. And I would but seek to trace again some portion of the -way with the light of a dim memory. - - -I will begin my tale with a certain June morning in the year 1678, when -I, scarcely turned twelve years, set out from the house of Barns to the -fishing in Tweed. I had escaped the watchful care of my tutor, Master -Robert Porter, the curate of Lyne, who vexed my soul thrice a week with -Caesar and Cicero. I had no ill-will to the Latin, for I relished the -battles in Caesar well enough, and had some liking for poetry; but when -I made a slip in grammar he would bring his great hand over my ears in a -way which would make them tingle for hours. And all this, mind you, -with the sun coming in at the window and whaups whistling over the -fields and the great fish plashing in the river. On this morn I had -escaped by hiding in the cheese-closet; then I had fetched my rod from -the stable-loft, and borrowed tackle from Davie Lithgow, the stableman; -and now I was creeping through the hazel bushes, casting, every now and -then, a glance back at the house, where the huge figure of my teacher -was looking for me disconsolately in every corner. - -The year had been dry and sultry; and this day was warmer than any I -remembered. The grass in the meadow was browned and crackling; all the -foxgloves hung their bells with weariness; and the waters were shrunken -in their beds. The mill-lade, which drives Manor Mill, had not a drop -in it, and the small trout were gasping in the shallow pool, which in -our usual weather was five feet deep. The cattle were _stertling_, as -we called it in the countryside; that is, the sun was burning their -backs, and, rushing with tails erect, they sought coolness from end to -end of the field. Tweed was very low and clear. Small hope, I thought, -for my fishing; I might as well have stayed with Master Porter and been -thrashed, for I will have to stay out all day and go supperless at -night. - -I took my way up the river past the green slopes of Haswellsykes to the -wood of Dawyck, for I knew well that there, if anywhere, the fish would -take in the shady, black pools. The place was four weary miles off, and -the day was growing hotter with each passing hour; so I stripped my coat -and hid it in a hole among whins and stones. When I come home again, I -said, I will recover it. Another half mile, and I had off my shoes and -stockings and concealed them in a like place; so soon I plodded along -with no other clothes on my body than shirt and ragged breeches. - -In time I came to the great forest which stretches up Tweed nigh to -Drummelzier, the greatest wood in our parts, unless it be Glentress, on -the east side of Peebles. The trees were hazels and birches in the -main, with a few rowans, and on the slopes of the hill a congregation of -desolate pines. Nearer the house of Dawyck were beeches and oaks and -the deeper shade, and it was thither I went. The top of my rod struck -against the boughs, and I had some labour in steering a safe course -between the Scylla of the trees and the Charybdis of the long brackens; -for the rod was in two parts spliced together, and as I had little skill -in splicing, Davie had done the thing for me before I started. Twice I -roused a cock of the woods, which went screaming through the shadow. -Herons from the great heronry at the other end were standing in nigh -every pool, for the hot weather was a godsend to them, and the trout -fared ill when the long thief-like bills flashed through the clear -water. Now and then a shy deer leaped from the ground and sped up the -hill. The desire of the chase was hot upon me when, after an hour's -rough scramble, I came to the spot where I hoped for fish. - - -A stretch of green turf, shaded on all sides by high beeches, sloped -down to the stream-side. The sun made a shining pathway down the -middle, but the edges were in blackest shadow. At the foot a lone -gnarled alder hung over the water, sending its long arms far over the -river nigh to the farther side. Here Tweed was still and sunless, -showing a level of placid black water, flecked in places with stray -shafts of light. I prepared my tackle on the grass, making a -casting-line of fine horse-hair which I had plucked from the tail of our -own grey gelding. I had no such fine hooks as folk nowadays bring from -Edinburgh, sharpened and barbed ready to their hand; but rough, homemade -ones, which Tam Todd, the land-grieve, had fashioned out of old needles. -My line was of thin, stout whipcord, to which I had made the casting -firm with a knot of my own invention. I had out my bag of worms, and, -choosing a fine red one, made it fast on the hook. Then I crept gently -to the alder and climbed on the branch which hung far out over the -stream. Here I sat like an owl in the shade, and dropped my line in the -pool below me, where it caught a glint of the sun and looked like a -shining cord let down, like Jacob's ladder, from heaven to the darkness -of earth. - -I had not sat many minutes before my rod was wrenched violently -downwards, then athwart the stream, nearly swinging me from my perch. I -have got a monstrous trout, I thought, and with a fluttering heart stood -up on the branch to be more ready for the struggle. He ran up the water -and down; then far below the tree roots, whence I had much difficulty in -forcing him; then he thought to break my line by rapid jerks, but he did -not know the strength of my horse-hair. By and by he grew wearied, and -I landed him comfortably on a spit of land--a great red-spotted fellow -with a black back. I made sure that he was two pounds weight if he was -an ounce. - -I hid him in a cool bed of leaves and rushes on the bank, and crawled -back to my seat on the tree. I baited my hook as before, and dropped it -in; and then leaned back lazily on the branches behind to meditate on -the pleasantness of fishing and the hatefulness of Master Porter's -teaching. In my shadowed place all was cool and fresh as a May morning, -but beyond, in the gleam of the sun, I could see birds hopping sleepily -on the trees, and the shrivelled dun look of the grass. A faint humming -of bees reached me, and the flash of a white butterfly shot, now and -then, like a star from the sunlight to the darkness, and back again to -the sunlight. It was a lovely summer's day, though too warm for our -sober country, and as I sat I thought of the lands I had read of and -heard of, where it was always fiercely hot, and great fruits were to be -had for the pulling. I thought of the oranges and olives and what not, -and great silver and golden fishes with sparkling scales; and as I -thought of them I began to loathe hazel-nuts and rowans and -whortleberries, and the homely trout, which are all that is to be had in -this land of ours. Then I thought of Barns and my kinsfolk, and all the -tales of my forbears, and I loved again the old silent valley of -Tweed--for a gallant tale is worth many fruits and fishes. Then as the -day brightened my dreams grew accordingly. I came of a great old house; -I, too, would ride to the wars, to the low countries, to Sweden, and I -would do great deeds like the men in Virgil. And then I wished I had -lived in Roman times. Ah, those were the days, when all the good things -of life fell to brave men, and there was no other trade to be compared -to war. Then I reflected that they had no fishing, for I had come on -nothing as yet in my studies about fish and the catching of them. And -so, like the boy I was, I dreamed on, and my thoughts chased each other -in a dance in my brain, and I fell fast asleep. - -I wakened with a desperate shudder, and found myself floundering in -seven feet of water. My eyes were still heavy with sleep, and I -swallowed great gulps of the river as I sank. In a second I came to the -surface and with a few strokes I was at the side, for I had early -learned to swim. Stupid and angry, I scrambled up the bank to the green -glade. Here a first surprise befell me. It was late afternoon; the sun -had travelled three-fourths of the sky; it would be near five o'clock. -What a great fool I had been to fall asleep and lose a day's fishing! I -found my rod moored to the side with the line and half of the -horse-hair; some huge fish had taken the hook. Then I looked around me -to the water and the trees and the green sward, and surprise the second -befell me; for there, not twelve paces from me, stood a little girl, -watching me with every appearance of terror. - -She was about two years younger than myself, I fancied. Her dress was -some rich white stuff which looked eerie in the shade of the beeches, -and her long hair fell over her shoulders in plentiful curls. She had -wide, frightened blue eyes and a delicately-featured face, and as for -the rest I know not how to describe her, so I will not try. I, with no -more manners than a dog, stood staring at her, wholly forgetful of the -appearance I must present, without shoes and stockings, coat or -waistcoat, and dripping with Tweed water. She spoke first, in a soft -southern tone, which I, accustomed only to the broad Scots of Jean -Morran, who had been my nurse, fell in love with at once. Her whole face -was filled with the extremest terror. - -"Oh, sir, be you the water-kelpie?" she asked. - -I could have laughed at her fright, though I must have been like enough -to some evil spirit; but I answered her with my best gravity. - -"No, I am no kelpie, but I had gone to sleep and fell into the stream. -My coat and shoes are in a hole two miles down, and my name is John -Burnet of Barns." All this I said in one breath, being anxious to right -myself in her eyes; also with some pride in the last words. - -It was pretty to see how recognition chased the fear from her face. "I -know you," she said. "I have heard of you. But what do you in the -dragon's hole, sir? This is my place. The dragon will get you without -a doubt." - -At this I took off my bonnet and made my best bow. "And who are you, -pray, and what story is this of dragons? I have been here scores of -times, and never have I seen or heard of them." This with the mock -importance of a boy. - -"Oh, I am Marjory," she said, "Marjory Veitch, and I live at the great -house in the wood, and all this place is my father's and mine. And this -is my dragon's den;" and straightway she wandered into a long tale of -Fair Margot and the Seven Maidens, how Margot wed the Dragon and he -turned forthwith into a prince, and I know not what else. "But no harm -can come to me, for look, I have the charm," and she showed me a black -stone in a silver locket. "My nurse Alison gave it me. She had it from -a great fairy who came with it to my cradle when I was born." - -"Who told you all this?" I asked in wonder, for this girl seemed to -carry all the wisdom of the ages in her head. - -"Alison and my father, and my brother Michael and old Adam Noble, and a -great many more--" Then she broke off. "My mother is gone. The -fairies came for her." - -Then I remembered the story of the young English mistress of Dawyck, who -had died before she had been two years in our country. And this child, -with her fairy learning, was her daughter. - -Now I know not what took me, for I had ever been shy of folk, and, above -all, of womankind. But here I found my tongue, and talked to my new -companion in a way which I could not sufficiently admire. There in the -bright sun-setting I launched into the most miraculous account of my -adventures of that day, in which dragons and witches were simply the -commonest portents. Then I sat down and told her all the stories I had -read out of Virgil and Caesar, and all that I had heard of the wars in -England and abroad, and the tales of the countryside which the packmen -had told me. Also I must tell the romances of the nettie-wives who come -to our countryside from the north--the old sad tale of Morag of the -Misty Days and Usnach's sons and the wiles of Angus. And she listened, -and thanked me ever so prettily when I had done. Then she would -enlighten my ignorance; so I heard of the Red Etin of Ireland, and the -Wolf of Brakelin, and the Seven Bold Brothers. Then I showed her nests, -and gave her small blue eggs to take home, and pulled great foxgloves -for her, and made coronets of fern. We played at hide-and-go-seek among -the beeches, and ran races, and fought visionary dragons. Then the sun -went down over the trees, and she declared it was time to be going home. -So I got my solitary fish from its bed of rushes and made her a present -of it. She was pleased beyond measure, though she cried out at my -hardness in taking its life. - -So it came to pass that Mistress Marjory Veitch of Dawyck went home -hugging a great two-pound trout, and I went off to Barns, heedless of -Master Porter and his heavy hand, and, arriving late, escaped a -thrashing, and made a good meal of the remnants of supper. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - THE HOUSE OF BARNS - - -The house of Barns stands on a green knoll above the Tweed, half-way -between the village of Stobo and the town of Peebles. Tweed here is no -great rolling river, but a shallow, prattling stream, and just below the -house it winds around a small islet, where I loved to go and fish; for -it was an adventure to reach the place, since a treacherous pool lay not -a yard below it. The dwelling was white and square, with a beacon tower -on the top, which once flashed the light from Neidpath to Drochil when -the English came over the Border. It had not been used for half a -hundred years, but a brazier still stood there, and a pile of rotten -logs, grim mementoes of elder feuds. This also was a haunt of mine, for -jackdaws and owls built in the corners, and it was choice fun of a -spring morning to search for eggs at the risk of my worthless life. The -parks around stretched to Manor village on the one side, and nigh to the -foot of the Lyne Water on the other. Manor Water as far as Posso -belonged to us, and many a rare creel have I had out of its pleasant -reaches. Behind, rose the long heathery hill of the Scrape, which is so -great a hill that while one side looks down on us another overhangs the -wood of Dawyck. Beyond that again came Dollar Law and the wild fells -which give birth to the Tweed, the Yarrow, and the Annan. - -Within the house, by the great hall-fire, my father, William Burnet, -spent his days. I mind well his great figure in the armchair, a mere -wreck of a man, but mighty in his very ruin. He wore a hat, though he -seldom went out, to mind him of the old days when he was so busy at -hunting and harrying that he had never his head uncovered. His beard -was streaked with grey, and his long nose, with a break in the middle -(which is a mark of our family), and bushy eyebrows gave him a fearsome -look to a chance stranger. In his young days he had been -extraordinarily handsome and active, and, if all tales be true, no -better than he should have been. He was feared in those days for his -great skill in night-foraying, so that he won the name of the "Howlet," -which never left him. Those were the high days of our family, for my -father was wont to ride to the Weaponshow with seven horsemen behind -him; now we could scarce manage four. But in one of his night-rides his -good fortune failed him; for being after no good on the hills above -Megget one dark wintry night, he fell over the Bitch Craig, horse and -all; and though he escaped with his life, he was lamed in both legs and -condemned to the house for the rest of his days. Of a summer night he -would come out to the lawn with two mighty sticks to support him, and -looking to the Manor Water hills, would shake his fist at them as old -enemies. In his later days he took kindly to theology and learning, -both of which, in the person of Master Porter, dined at his table every -day. I know not how my father, who was a man of much penetration, could -have been deceived by this man, who had as much religion as an ox. As -for learning, he had some rag-tag scraps of Latin which were visited on -me for my sins; but in eating he had no rival, and would consume beef -and pasty and ale like a famished army. He preached every Sabbath in -the little kirk of Lyne, below the Roman camp, and a woful service it -was. I went regularly by my father's orders, but I was the only one -from the household of Barns. I fear that not even my attendance at his -church brought me Master Porter's love; for I had acquired nearly as -much Latin as he possessed himself, and vexed his spirit at lesson-hours -with unanswerable questions. At other times, too, I would rouse him to -the wildest anger by singing a profane song of my own making: - - "O ken ye his Reverence Minister Tam, - Wi' a heid like a stot and a face like a ram?" - - -To me my father was more than kind. He was never tired of making plans -for my future. "John," he would say, "you shall go to Glasgow College, -for you have the makings of a scholar in you. Ay, and we'll make you a -soldier, John, and a good honest gentleman to fight for your king, as -your forbears did before you." (This was scarce true, for there never -yet was a Burnet who fought for anything but his own hand.) "No damned -Whig for me. Gad, how I wish I were hale in the legs to be off to the -hills with the Johnstones and Keiths. There wouldna be one of the breed -left from Tweedwell to the Brig o' Peebles." Then he would be anxious -about my martial training, and get down the foils to teach me a lesson. -From this he would pass to tales of his own deeds till the past would -live before him, and his eyes would glow with their old fire. Then he -would forget his condition, and seek to show me how some parry was -effected. There was but one result; his poor weak legs would give way -beneath him. Then I had to carry him to his bed, swearing deeply at his -infirmities and lamenting the changes of life. - -In those days the Burnets were a poor family--a poor and a proud. My -grandfather had added much to the lands by rapine and -extortion--ill-gotten gains which could not last. He had been a man of -a violent nature, famed over all the South for his feats of horsemanship -and swordsmanship. He died suddenly, of overdrinking, at the age of -fifty-five, and now lies in the kirk of Lyne beneath an effigy -representing the Angel Gabriel coming for his soul. His last words are -recorded: "O Lord, I dinna want to dee, I dinna want to dee. If ye'll -let me live, I'll run up the sklidders o' Cademuir to a' eternity." The -folk of the place seldom spoke of him, though my father upheld him as a -man of true spirit who had an eye to the improvement of his house. Of -the family before him I had the history at my finger-ends. This was a -subject of which my father never tired, for he held that the genealogy -of the Burnets was a thing of vastly greater importance than that of the -kings of Rome or Judah. From the old days when we held Burnetland, in -the parish of Broughton, and called ourselves of that ilk, I had the -unbroken history of the family in my memory. Ay, and also of the great -house of Traquair, for my mother had been a Stewart, and, as my father -said often, this was the only family in the country bide which could -hope to rival us in antiquity or valour. - -My father's brother, Gilbert, had married the heiress of a westland -family, and with her had got the lands of Eaglesham, about the -headwaters of Cart. His son Gilbert, my cousin, was a tall lad some -four years my senior, who on several occasions rode to visit us at -Barns. He was of a handsome, soldierly appearance, and looked for an -early commission in a Scots company. At first I admired him mightily, -for he was skilful at all sports, rode like a moss-trooper, and could -use his sword in an incomparable fashion. My father could never abide -him, for he could not cease to tell of his own prowess, and my father -was used to say that he loved no virtue better than modesty. Also, he -angered every servant about the place by his hectoring, and one day so -offended old Tam Todd that Tam flung a bucket at him, and threatened to -duck him in the Tweed; which he doubtless would have done, old as he -was, for he was a very Hercules of a man. This presented a nice problem -to all concerned, and I know not which was the more put out, Tam or my -father. Finally it ended in the latter reading Gilbert a long and -severe lecture, and then bidding Tam ask his pardon, seeing that the -dignity of the family had to be sustained at any cost. - -One other relative, though in a distant way, I must not omit to mention, -for the day came when every man of our name was proud to claim the -kinship. This was Gilbert Burnet, of Edinburgh, afterwards Divinity -Professor in Glasgow, Bishop of Salisbury, and the author of the famous -"Bishop Burnet's History of his Own Times." I met him often in after -days, and once in London he had me to his house and entertained me -during my stay. Of him I shall have to tell hereafter, but now he was -no more than a name to me, a name which my father was fond of repeating -when he wished to recall me to gravity. - -Tam Todd, my father's grieve, who managed the lands about the house, -deserves more than a passing word. He was about sixty years of age, -stooped in the back, but with long arms and the strength of a giant. At -one time he had fought for Gustavus, and might have risen high in the -ranks, had not a desperate desire to see his native land come upon him -and driven him to slip off one night and take ship for Leith. He had -come to Peebles, where my father met him, and admiring his goodly -stature, took him into his service, in which Tam soon became as expert -at the breeding of sheep as ever he had been at the handling of a pike -or musket. He was the best story-teller and the cunningest fisher in -the place, full of quaint foreign words, French, and Swedish, and High -Dutch, for the army of Gustavus had been made up of the riddlings of -Europe. From him I learned to fence with the rapier, and a past-master -he was, for my father told how, in his best days, he could never so much -as look at Tam. _Bon pied bon oeil_ was ever his watchword, and I have -proved it a good one; for, short though it be, if a man but follow it he -may fear nothing. Also, he taught me a thing which has been most useful -to me, and which I will speak of again--the art of using the broadsword -or claymore, as the wild Highlanders call it. My school was on a strip -of green grass beside Tweed, and here I have had many a tough encounter -in the long summer nights. He made me stand with my back to the deep -pool, that I might fear to step back; and thus I learned to keep my -ground, a thing which he held to be of the essence of swordsmanship. - -My nurse, Jean Morran, was the only woman body about the place. She and -Tam did the cooking between them, for that worthy had learned the art -gastronomical from a Frenchman whose life he saved, and who, in -gratitude, taught him many excellent secrets for dishes, and stole ten -crowns. She had minded me and mended my clothes and seen to my -behaviour ever since my mother died of a fever when I was scarce two -years old. Of my mother I remember nothing, but if one may judge from -my father's long grief and her portrait in the dining-hall, she had been -a good and a gentle as well as a most beautiful woman. Jean, with her -uncouth tongue and stern face, is still a clear figure in my memory. -She was a kind nurse in the main, and if her temper was doubtful from -many sore trials, her cakes and sugar were excellent salves to my -wronged heart. She was, above all things, a famous housewife, keeping -the place spotless and clean, so that when one entered the house of -Barns there was always something fresh and cool in the very air. - -But here I am at the end of my little gallery, for the place was bare of -folk, and the life a lonely one. Here I grew up amid the woods and hills -and the clean air, with a great zest for all the little excellencies of -my lot, and a tolerance of its drawbacks. By the time I had come to -sixteen years I had swam in every pool in Tweed for miles up and down, -climbed every hill, fished in every burn, and ridden and fallen from -every horse in my father's stable. I had been as far west as Tintock -Hill and as far south as the Loch o' the Lowes. Nay, I had once been -taken to Edinburgh in company with Tam, who bought me a noble -fishing-rod, and showed me all the wondrous things to be seen. A band -of soldiers passed down the High Street from the Castle with a great -clanking and jingling, and I saw my guide straighten up his back and -keep time with his feet to their tread. All the way home, as I sat -before him on the broad back of Maisie, he told me tales of his -campaigns, some of them none too fit for a boy's ear; but he was carried -away and knew not what he was saying. This first put a taste for the -profession of arms into my mind, which was assiduously fostered by my -fencing lessons and the many martial tales I read. I found among my -father's books the chronicles of Froissart and a history of the Norman -Kings, both in the English, which I devoured by night and day. Then I -had Tacitus and Livy, and in my fourteenth year I began the study of -Greek with a master at Peebles. So that soon I had read most of the -"Iliad" and all the "Odyssey," and would go about repeating the long, -swinging lines. I think that story of the man who, at the siege of some -French town, shouted a Homeric battle-piece most likely to be true, for -with me the Greek had a like effect, and made me tramp many miles over -the hills or ride the horses more hard than my father permitted. - -But this book-work was, after all, but half of my life, and that the -less memorable. All the sights and sounds of that green upland vale are -linked for me with memories of boyish fantasies. I used to climb up the -ridge of Scrape when the sun set and dream that the serried ranks of -hills were a new country where all was strange, though I knew well that -an hour of the morning would dispel the fancy. Then I would descend -from the heights, and for weeks be so fiercely set on the sports of the -time of year that I had scarcely time for a grave thought. I have often -gone forth to the lambing with the shepherds, toiled all day in the -brown moors, and at night dropped straight off to sleep as I sat in my -chair at meat. Then there was the salmon-fishing in the late spring, -when the blood ran hot at the flare of the torches and the shimmer of -the spears, and I, a forlorn young fool, shivered in my skin as the keen -wind blew down the water. There was the swing and crackle of the stones -in winter when the haughlands of Manor were flooded, and a dozen -brown-faced men came to the curling and the air rang with shouts and -laughter. I have mind, too, of fierce days of snow when men looked -solemn and the world was so quiet that I whistled to keep me from -despondency, and the kitchen at Barns was like a place in an inn with -famishing men and dripping garments. Then Tweed would be buried under -some great drift and its kindly flow sorely missed by man and beast. -But best I remember the loosening of winter, when the rains from the -moors sent down the river roaring-red, and the vale was one pageant of -delicate greenery and turbid brown torrent. - -Often I would take my books and go into the heart of the hills for days -and nights. This, my father scarce liked, but he never hindered me. It -was glorious to kindle your fire in the neuk of a glen, broil your -trout, and make your supper under the vault of the pure sky. Sweet, -too, at noonday to lie beside the wellhead of some lonely burn, and -think of many things that can never be set down and are scarce -remembered. But these were but dreams, and this is not their chronicle; -so it behooves me to shut my ear to vagrom memories. - -To Dawyck I went the more often the older I grew. For Marjory Veitch had -grown into a beautiful, lissom girl, with the same old litheness of body -and gaiety of spirit. She was my comrade in countless escapades, and -though I have travelled the world since then I have never found a -readier or a braver. But with the years she grew more maidenly, and I -dared less to lead her into mad ventures. Nay, I who had played with -her in the woods and fished and raced with her as with some other lad, -began to feel a foolish awe in her presence, and worshipped her from -afar. The fairy learning of her childhood was but the index of a -wistfulness and delicacy of nature which, to my grosser spirit, seemed -something to uncover one's head before. I have loved her dearly all my -life, but I have never more than half understood her; which is a good -gift of God to most men, for the confounding of vanity. - -To her a great sorrow had come. For when she was scarce thirteen, her -father, the laird of Dawyck, who had been ever of a home-keeping nature, -died from a fall while hunting on the brow of Scrape. He had been her -childhood's companion, and she mourned for him as sorely as ever human -being mourned for another. Michael, her only brother, was far abroad in -a regiment of the Scots French Guards, so she was left alone in the -great house with no other company than the servants and a cross-grained -aunt who heard but one word in twenty. For this reason I rode over the -oftener to comfort her loneliness. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - THE SPATE IN TWEED - - -The year 1683 was with us the driest year in any man's memory. From the -end of April to the end of July we had scarce a shower. The hay-harvest -was ruined beyond repair, and man and beast were sick with the sultry -days. It was on the last Monday of July that I, wearied with wandering -listlessly about the house, bethought myself of riding to Peebles to see -the great match at bowls which is played every year for the silver horn. -I had no expectation of a keen game, for the green was sure to be -well-nigh ruined with the sun, and men had lost spirit in such weather. -But the faintest interest is better than purposeless idleness, so I -roused myself from languor and set out. - -I saddled Maisie the younger, for this is a family name among our -horses, and rode down by the Tweed side to the town. The river ran in -the midst of a great bed of sun-baked gravel--a little trickle that a -man might step across. I do not know where the fish had gone, but they, -too, seemed scared by the heat, for not a trout plashed to relieve the -hot silence. When I came to the Manor pool I stood still in wonder, for -there for the first time in my life I saw the stream dry. Manor, which -is in winter a roaring torrent and at other times a clear, full stream, -had not a drop of running water in its bed; naught but a few stagnant -pools green with slime. It was a grateful change to escape from the sun -into the coolness of the Neidpath woods; but even there a change was -seen, for the ferns hung their fronds wearily and the moss had lost all -its greenness. When once more I came out to the sun, its beating on my -face was so fierce that it almost burned, and I was glad when I came to -the town, and the shade of tree and dwelling. - -The bowling-green of Peebles, which is one of the best in the country, -lies at the west end of the High Street at the back of the Castle Hill. -It looks down on Tweed and Peebles Water, where they meet at the -Cuddie's Pool, and thence over a wide stretch of landscape to the high -hills. The turf had been kept with constant waterings, but, -notwithstanding, it looked grey and withered. Here I found half the -men-folk of Peebles assembled and many from the villages near, to see -the match which is the greatest event of the month. Each player wore a -ribband of a special colour. Most of them had stripped off their coats -and jerkins to give their arms free play, and some of the best were -busied in taking counsel with their friends as to the lie of the green. -The landlord of the Crosskeys was there with a great red favour stuck in -his hat, looking, as I thought, too fat and rubicund a man to have a -steady eye. Near him was Peter Crustcrackit the tailor, a little wiry -man with legs bent from sitting cross-legged, thin active hands, and -keen eyes well used to the sewing of fine work. Then there were carters -and shepherds, stout fellows with bronzed faces and great brawny chests, -and the miller of the Wauk-mill, who was reported the best bowl-player -in the town. Some of the folk had come down like myself merely to -watch; and among them I saw Andrew Greenlees, the surgeon, who had -tended me what time I went over the cauld. A motley crowd of the odds -and ends of the place hung around or sat on the low wall--poachers and -black-fishers and all the riff-raff of the town. - -The jack was set, the order of the game arranged, and the play -commenced. A long man from the Quair Water began, and sent his bowl -curling up the green not four inches from the mark. - -"Weel dune for Quair Water," said one. "They're nane sae blind -thereaways." - -Then a flesher's lad came and sent a shot close on the heels of the -other and lay by his side. - -At this, there were loud cries of "Weel dune, Coo's Blether," which was -a name they had for him; and the fellow grew red and withdrew to the -back. - -Next came a little nervous man, who looked entreatingly at the -bystanders as if to bespeak their consideration. "Jock Look-up, my -dear," said a man solemnly, "compose your anxious mind, for thae auld -wizened airms o' yours 'll no send it half-road." The little man sighed -and played his bowl: it was even as the other had said, for his shot was -adjudged a _hogg_ and put off the green. - -Then many others played till the green was crowded at one end with the -balls. They played in rinks, and interest fell off for some little time -till it came to the turn of the two acknowledged champions, Master -Crustcrackit and the miller, to play against one another. Then the -onlookers crowded round once more. - -The miller sent a long swinging shot which touched the jack and carried -it some inches onward. Then a bowl from the tailor curled round and lay -between them and the former mark. Now arose a great dispute (for the -players of Peebles had a way of their own, and to understand their rules -required no ordinary share of brains) as to the propriety of Master -Crustcrackit's shot, some alleging that he had played off the cloth, -others defending. The miller grew furiously warm. - -"Ye wee, sneck-drawin' tailor-body, wad ye set up your bit feckless face -against a man o' place and siller?" - -"Haud your tongue, miller," cried one. "Ye've nae cause to speak ill o' -the way God made a man." - -Master Crustcrackit, however, needed no defender. He was ready in a -second. - -"And what dae ye ca' yoursel' but a great, God-forsaken dad o' a man, -wi' a wame like Braid Law and a mouth like the bottomless pit for yill -and beef and a' manner o' carnal bakemeats. You to speak abune your -breath to me," and he hopped round his antagonist like an enraged -fighting-cock. - -What the miller would have said no one may guess, had not a middle-aged -man, who had been sitting on a settle placidly smoking a long white -pipe, come up to see what was the dispute. He was dressed in a long -black coat, with small-clothes of black, and broad silver-buckled shoon. -The plain white cravat around his neck marked him for a minister. - -"William Laverlaw and you, Peter Crustcrackit, as the minister of this -parish, I command ye to be silent. I will have no disturbance on this -public green. Nay, for I will adjudge your difference myself." - -All were silent in a second, and a hush of interest fell on the place. - -"But that canna be," grumbled the miller, "for ye're nae great hand at -the bowls." - -The minister stared sternly at the speaker, who sank at once into an -aggrieved quiet. "As God has appointed me the spiritual guide of this -unworthy town, so also has He made me your master in secular affairs. I -will settle your disputes and none other. And, sir, if you or any other -dare gainsay me, then I shall feel justified in leaving argument for -force, and the man who offends I shall fling into the Cuddie's Pool for -the clearing of his brain and the benefit of his soul." He spoke in a -slow, methodical tone, rolling the words over his tongue. Then I -remembered the many stories I had heard of this man's autocratic rule -over the folk of the good town of Peebles; how he, alien like to whig -and prelatist, went on his steadfast path caring for no man and snapping -his fingers at the mandates of authority. And indeed in the quiet -fierce face and weighty jaws there was something which debarred men from -meddling with their owner. - -Such was his influence on the people that none dared oppose him, and he -gave his decision, which seemed to me to be a just and fair one. After -this they fell to their play once more. - -Meantime I had been looking on at the sport from the vantage-ground of -the low wall which looked down on the river. I had debated a question -of farriery with the surgeon, who was also something of a horse-doctor; -and called out greetings to the different players, according as I -favoured their colours. Then when the game no longer amused me, I had -fallen to looking over the country, down to the edge of the water where -the small thatched cottages were yellow in the heat, and away up the -broad empty channel of Tweed. The cauld, where salmon leap in the -spring and autumn, and which is the greatest cauld on the river unless -it be the one at Melrose, might have been crossed dryshod. I began to -hate the weariful, everlasting glare and sigh for the clouds once more, -and the soft moist turf and the hazy skyline. Now it was so heavily -oppressive that a man could scarce draw a free breath. The players -dripped with sweat and looked nigh exhausted, and for myself the -sulphurous air weighed on me like a mount of lead and confused such wits -as I had. - -Even as I looked I saw a strange thing on the river bank which chained -my languid curiosity. For down the haugh, swinging along at a great -pace, came a man, the like of whom I had seldom seen. He ran at a -steady trot more like a horse than a human creature, with his arms set -close by his sides and without bonnet or shoes. His head swung from -side to side as with excessive weariness, and even at that distance I -could see how he panted. In a trice he was over Peebles Water and had -ascended the bank to the bowling-green, cleared the low dyke, and stood -gaping before us. Now I saw him plainer, and I have rarely seen a -stranger sight. He seemed to have come a great distance, but no sweat -stood on his brow; only a dun copper colour marking the effect of the -hot sun. His breeches were utterly ragged and in places showed his long -supple limbs. A shock of black hair covered his head and shaded his -swarthy face. His eyes were wild and keen as a hawk's, and his tongue -hung out of his mouth like a dog's in a chase. Every man stopped his -play and looked at the queer newcomer. A whisper went round the place -that it was that "fule callant frae Brochtoun," but this brought no news -to me. - -The man stood still for maybe three minutes with his eyes fixed on the -ground as if to recover breath. Then he got up with dazed glances, like -one wakening from sleep. He stared at me, then at the players, and -burst into his tale, speaking in a high, excited voice. - -"I hae run frae Drummeller to bring ye word. Quick and get the folk out -o' the waterside hooses or the feck o' the toun 'll be soomin' to -Berwick in an 'oor." - -No one spoke, but all stared as if they took him for a madman. - -"There's been an awfu' storm up i' the muirs," he went on, panting, "and -Tweed's com in' doun like a mill-race. The herd o' Powmood tellt me, -and I got twae 'oors start o't and cam off here what I could rin. Get -the folk out o' the waterside hooses when I bid ye, wi' a' their gear -and plenishing, or there'll no be sae muckle as a groat's worth left by -nicht. Up wi' ye and haste, for there's nae time to lose. I heard the -roar o' the water miles off, louder than ony thunderstorm and mair -terrible than an army wi' banners. Quick, ye auld doited bodies, if ye -dinna want to hae mourning and lamentation i' the toun o' Peebles." - -At this, as you may believe, a great change passed over all. Some made -no words about it, but rushed into the town to give the alarm; others -stared stupidly as if waiting for more news; while some were disposed to -treat the whole matter as a hoax. This enraged the newsbearer beyond -telling. Springing up, he pointed to the western sky, and far off we -saw a thick blackness creeping up the skyline. "If ye'll no believe -me," said he, "will ye believe the finger of God?" The word and the -sight convinced the most distrusting. - -Now Tweed, unlike all other rivers of my knowledge, rises terribly at -the first rain and travels slowly, so that Tweedsmuir may be under five -feet of water and Peebles high and dry. This makes the whole valley a -place of exceeding danger in sultry weather, for no man knows when a -thunderstorm may break in the hills and send the stream down a raging -torrent. This, too, makes it possible to hear word of a flood before it -comes, and by God's grace to provide against it. - -The green was soon deserted. I rushed down to the waterside houses, -which were in the nearest peril, and in shorter time than it takes to -tell, we had the people out and as much of their belongings as were -worth the saving; then we hastened to the low-lying cottages on Tweed -Green and did likewise. Some of the folk seemed willing to resist, -because, as they said, "Whae kenned but that the body micht be a leear -and they werena to hae a' this wark for naething?" For the great floods -were but a tradition, and only the old men had seen the ruin which the -spate could work. Nevertheless, even these were convinced by a -threatening sky and a few words from the newsbearer's trenchant tongue. -Soon the High Street and the wynds were thick with household belongings, -and the Castle Hill was crowded with folk to see the coming of the -flood. - -By this time the grim line of black had grown over half the sky, and -down fell great drops of rain into the white, sun-baked channel. It was -strange to watch these mighty splashes falling into the little stagnant -pools and the runlets of flowing water. And still the close, thick heat -hung over all, and men looked at the dawnings of the storm with sweat -running over their brows. With the rain came a mist--a white ghastly -haze which obliterated the hills and came down nigh to the stream. A -sound, too, grew upon our ears, at first far away and dim, but -increasing till it became a dull hollow thunder, varied with a strange -crackling, swishing noise which made a man eery to listen to. Then all -of a sudden the full blast of the thing came upon us. Men held their -breaths as the wind and rain choked them and drove them back. It was -scarce possible to see far before, but the outlines of the gorge of -Neidpath fleeted through the drift, whence the river issued. Every man -turned his eyes thither and strained them to pierce the gloom. - -Suddenly round the corner of the hill appeared a great yellow wave -crested with white foam and filling the whole space. Down it came -roaring and hissing, mowing the pines by the waterside as a reaper mows -down hay with a scythe. Then with a mighty bound it broke from the -hill-barriers and spread over the haugh. Now, the sound was like the -bubbling of a pot ere it boils. We watched it in terror and admiration, -as it swept on its awful course. In a trice it was at the cauld, and -the cauld disappeared under a whirl of foam; now it was on the houses, -and the walls went in like nutshells and the rubble was borne onward. A -cry got up of "the bridge," and all hung in wonder as it neared the old -stonework, the first barrier to the torrent's course, the brave bridge -of Peebles. It flung itself on it with fiendish violence, but the stout -masonwork stood firm, and the boiling tide went on through the narrow -arches, leaving the bridge standing unshaken, as it had stood against -many a flood. As we looked, we one and all broke into a cheer in honour -of the old masons who had made so trusty a piece of stone. - -I found myself in the crowd of spectators standing next to the man who -had brought the tidings. He had recovered his breath and was watching -the sight with a look half of interest and half of vexation. When all -was past and only the turbid river remained, he shook himself like a dog -and made to elbow his way out. "I maun be awa'," he said, speaking to -himself, "and a sair job I'll hae gettin' ower Lyne Water." When I -heard him I turned round and confronted him. There was something so -pleasing about his face, his keen eyes and alert head, that I could not -forbear from offering him my hand, and telling him of my admiration for -his deed. I was still but a boy and he was clearly some years my elder, -so I made the advance, I doubt not, with a certain shyness and -hesitancy. He looked at me sharply and smiled. - -"Ye're the young laird o' Barns," said he; "I ken ye weel though ye -maybe are no aquaint wi' me. I'm muckle honoured, sir, and gin ye'll -come Brochtoun-ways sometime and speir for Nicol Plenderleith, he'll tak -ye to burns that were never fished afore and hills that never heard the -sound o' a shot." - -I thanked him, and watched him slipping through the crowd till he was -lost to view. This was my first meeting with Nicol Plenderleith, of -whose ways and doings this tale shall have much to say. The glamour of -the strange fellow was still upon me as I set myself to make my road -home. I am almost ashamed to tell of my misfortunes; for after crossing -the bridge and riding to Manor Water, I found that this stream likewise -had risen and had not left a bridge in its whole course. So I had to go -up as far as St. Gordians' Cross before I could win over it, and did not -reach Barns till after midnight, where I found my father half-crazy with -concern for me and Tam Todd making ready to go and seek me. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - I GO TO THE COLLEGE AT GLASGOW - - -By this time I had grown a great stalwart lad, little above the middle -height, but broad and sinewy. I had made progress in all manly sports -and could fling the hammer almost as far as the Manor blacksmith, while -in leaping and running I had few rivals among lads of my age. Also I -was no bad swordsman, but could stand my own against all the wiles of -Tam Todd, and once even disarmed him to his own unspeakable disgust. In -my studies, which I pursued as diligently as I could with no teachers -and not over-many books, I had made some little advance, having read -through most of the Greek tragedians and advanced some distance in the -study of Plato; while in the Latin tongue I had become such an adept -that I could both read and write it with ease. - -When I had reached the mature age of eighteen, who should come up into -our parts but my famous relative, Master Gilbert Burnet, the preacher at -St. Clement's in London, of whom I have already spoken. He was making a -journey to Edinburgh and had turned out of his way to revive an old -acquaintance. My father was overjoyed to see him and treated him to the -best the house could produce. He stayed with us two days, and I -remember him still as he sat in a great armchair opposite my father, -with his broad velvet cap and grey, peaked beard, and weighty brows. -Yet when he willed, though for ordinary a silent man, he could talk as -gaily and wittily as any town gallant; so much indeed that my father, -who was somewhat hard to please, declared him the best companion he ever -remembered. - -Before he left, Master Burnet examined me on my progress in polite -learning, and finding me well advanced, he would have it that I should -be sent forthwith to Glasgow College. He exacted a promise from my -father to see to this, and left behind him, when he departed, letters of -introduction to many of the folk there, for he himself had, at one time, -been professor of divinity in the place. As for myself, I was nothing -loth to go, and see places beyond Tweeddale and add to my stock of -learning; for about this time a great enthusiasm for letters had seized -me (which I suppose happens at some time or other to most men), and I -conceived my proper vocation in life to be that of the scholar. I have -found in an old manuscript book a list of the titles of imaginary works, -editions, poems, treatises, all with my unworthy name subscribed as the -author. So it was settled that I should ride to Glasgow and take -lodgings in the town for the sake of the college classes. - -I set out one November morning, riding Maisie alone, for no student was -allowed to have a servant, nor any one below the degree of Master of -Arts. The air was keen and frosty, and I rode in high fettle by the -towns of Biggar and Lanark to the valley of the Clyde. I lay all night -at Crossford in the house of a distant relative. Thence the next day I -rode to Hamilton and in the evening came to the bridge of the Clyde at -Glasgow. Then I presented myself to the Principal and Regents of the -college and was duly admitted, putting on the red gown, the badge of the -student class, than which I believe there is no more hideous habiliment. - -The college in those days was poor enough, having been well-nigh ruined -by the extortions of Lord Middleton and his drunken crew; and it had not -yet benefited by the rich donations of the Reverend Zachary Boyd of the -Barony Kirk. Still, the standard of learning in the place was -extraordinarily high, especially in dialectic and philosophy--a standard -which had been set by the famous Andrew Melville when he was a professor -in the place. I have heard disputations there in the evenings between -the schoolmen and the new philosophers, the like of which could scarcely -be got from the length and breadth of the land. - -Across the High Street were the college gardens and green pleasant -orchards where the professors were wont to walk and the scholars to have -their games. Through the middle ran the clear Molendinar Burn, so called -by the old Romans, and here I loved to watch the trout and young salmon -leaping. There was a severe rule against scholars fishing in the -stream, so I was fain to content myself with the sight. For soon a -violent fit of home-sickness seized me, and I longed for the rush of -Tweed and the pleasant sweep of Manor; so it was one of my greatest -consolations to look at this water and fancy myself far away from the -town. One other lad who came from Perthshire used to come and stand -with me and tell me great tales of his fishing exploits; and I did -likewise with him till we became great companions. Many afternoons I -spent here, sometimes with a book and sometimes without one; in the fine -weather I would lie on the grass and dream, and in rough, boisterous -winter days I loved to watch the Molendinar, flooded and angry, fling -its red waters against the old stones of the bridge. - -No one of us was permitted to carry arms of any kind, so I had to sell -my sword on my first coming to the town. This was a great hardship to -me, for whereas when I carried a weapon I had some sense of my own -importance, now I felt no better than the rest of the unarmed crowd -about me. Yet it was a wise precaution, for in other places where -scholars are allowed to strut like cavaliers there are fights and duels -all the day long, so that the place looks less like an abode of the -Muses than a disorderly tavern. Nevertheless, there were many manly -exercises to be had, for in the greens in the garden we had trials of -skill at archery and golf and many other games of the kind. At the first -mentioned I soon became a great master, for I had a keen eye from much -living among woods and hills, and soon there was no one who could come -near me at the game. As for golf, I utterly failed to excel; and indeed -it seems to me that golf is like the divine art of poetry, the gift for -which is implanted in man at his birth or not at all. Be that as it -may, I never struck a golf-ball fairly in my life, and I misdoubt I -never shall. - -As for my studies, for which I came to the place, I think I made great -progress. For after my first fit of home-sickness was over, I fell in -with the ways of the college, and acquired such a vast liking for the -pursuit of learning that I felt more convinced than ever that Providence -had made me for a scholar. In my classes I won the commendation of both -professors; especially in the class of dialectic, where an analysis of -Aristotle's method was highly praised by Master Sandeman, the professor. -This fine scholar and accomplished gentleman helped me in many ways, and -for nigh two months, when he was sick of the fever, I lectured to his -class in his stead. We were all obliged to talk in the Latin tongue and -at first my speech was stiff and awkward enough, but by and by I fell -into the way of it and learned to patter it as glibly as a Spanish monk. - -It may be of interest to those of my house that I should give some -account of my progress in the several studies, to show that our family -is not wholly a soldiering one. In Greek I studied above others the -works of Plato, delighting especially in his Phaedo, which I had almost -by heart; Aristotle likewise, though I read but little of him in his own -tongue. I completed a translation of the first part of Plato's Republic -into Latin, which Master Sandeman was pleased to say was nigh as elegant -as George Buchanan's. Also I was privileged to discover certain notable -emendations in the text of this work, which I sent in manuscript to the -famous Schookius of Groningen, who incorporated them in his edition then -in preparation, but after the fashion of Dutchmen sent me no thanks. - -As regards philosophy, which I hold the most divine of all studies, I -was in my first year a most earnest Platonic; nay, I went farther than -the master himself, as is the way of all little minds when they seek to -comprehend a great one. In those days I went about in sober attire and -strove in all things to order my life according to the rules of -philosophy, seeking to free myself from all disturbing outside powers -and live the life of pure contemplation. I looked back with unutterable -contempt on my past as a turbid and confused medley, nor did I seek -anything better in life than quiet and leisure for thought and study. -In such a condition I spent the first month of my stay at Glasgow. - -Then the Platonic fit left me and I was all for Aristotle and the -Peripatetics. Here, at last, thought I, have I got the _siccum lumen_, -which Heraclitus spoke of: and his distinct and subtle reasoning seemed -to me to be above doubt. And indeed I have never wondered at the -schoolmen and others who looked upon Aristotle as having reached the -height of human wisdom, for his method is so all-embracing and -satisfying that it breeds wonder in the heart of any man; and it affords -so sure a bottom for thought that men become Aristotelians. - -In the midsummer months I went down to Tweeddale again, where I -astonished my father and all in the place with my new learning, and also -grieved them. For I had no love for fishing or shooting; I would scarce -ride two miles for the pleasure of it; my father's tales, in which I -delighted before, had grown tiresome; and I had no liking for anything -save bending over books. When I went to Dawyck to see Marjory, she knew -not what had come over me, I was so full of whims and fancies. "O -John," she said, "your face is as white as a woman's, and you have such -a horrible cloak. Go and get another at once, you silly boy, and not -shame your friends." Yet even Marjory had little power over me, for I -heeded her not, though aforetime I would have ridden posthaste to -Peebles and got me a new suit, and painted my face if I had thought that -thereby I would pleasure her. - -When the autumn came again I returned to college more inclined than ever -for the life of a scholar. I fell to my studies with renewed zeal, and -would doubtless have killed myself with work had I not been nearly -killed with the fever, which made me more careful of my health. And -now, like the weathercock I was, my beliefs shifted yet again. For -studying the schoolmen, who were the great upholders of Aristotle, I -found in them so many contradictions and phantasies which they fathered -on their master that, after reading the diatribes of Peter Ramus and -others against him, I was almost persuaded that I had been grievously -misled. Then, at last, I saw hat the fault lay not in Aristotle but in -his followers, who sought to find in him things that were beyond the -compass of his thought. So by degrees I came round toward the new -philosophy, which a party in the college upheld. They swore by the great -names of Bacon and Galileo and the other natural philosophers, but I -hesitated to follow them, for they seemed to me to disdain all mental -philosophy, which I hold is the greater study. I was of this way of -thinking when I fell in one day with an English book, a translation of a -work by a Frenchman, one Renatus Descartes, published in London in the -year 1649. It gave an account of the progress in philosophy of this -man, who followed no school, but, clearing his mind of all -presuppositions, instituted a method for himself. This marked for me -the turning point; for I gave in my allegiance without hesitation to -this philosopher, and ever since I have held by his system with some -modifications. It is needless for me to enter further into my -philosophy, for I have by me a written exposition of the works of this -Descartes with my own additions, which I intend, if God so please, to -give soon to the world. - -For two years I abode at the college, thinking that I was destined by -nature for a studious life, and harbouring thoughts of going to the -university of Saumur to complete my studies. I thought that my spirit -was chastened to a fit degree, and so no doubt it was, for those who had -feared me at first on account of my heavy fist and straightforward ways, -now openly scoffed at me without fear of punishment. Indeed, one went -so far one day as to jostle me off the causeway, and I made no return, -but went on as if nothing had happened, deeming it beneath a wise man to -be distracted by mundane trifles. Yet, mind you, in all this there was -nothing Christian or like unto the meekness of our Master, as I have -seen in some men; but rather an absurd attempt to imitate those who -would have lived very differently had their lot been cast in our hot and -turbid days. - -How all this was changed and I veered round of a sudden to the opposite -I must hasten to tell. One April day, towards the close of my second -year, I was going up the High Street toward the Cathedral with a great -parcel of books beneath my arm, when I heard a shouting and a jingling, -and a troop of horse came down the street. I stood back into the -shelter of a doorway, for soldiers were wont to bear little love to -scholars, and I did not care to risk their rough jests. From this place -I watched their progress, and a gallant sight it was. Some twenty men -in buff jerkins and steel headpieces rode with a fine clatter of bridles -and clank of swords. I marked their fierce sun-brown faces and their -daredevil eyes as they looked haughtily down on the crowd as on lower -beings. And especially I marked their leader. He sat a fine bay horse -with ease and grace; his plumed hat set off his high-coloured face and -long brown curls worn in the fashion of the day; and as he rode he bowed -to the people with large condescension. He was past in a second, but -not before I had recognized the face and figure of my cousin Gilbert. - -I stood for some minutes staring before me, while the echoes of the -horses' hooves died away down the street. This, I thought, is the -destiny of my cousin, only two years my elder, a soldier, a gentleman, a -great man in his place; while I am but a nameless scholar, dreaming away -my manhood in the pursuits of a dotard. I was so overwhelmed with -confusion that I stood gaping with a legion of thoughts and opposing -feelings running through my brain. Then all the old fighting spirit of -my house rose within me. By Heaven, I would make an end of this; I would -get me home without delay; I would fling my books into the Clyde; I -would go to the wars; I would be a great cavalier, and, by the Lord, I -would keep up the name of the house! I was astonished myself at the -sudden change in my feelings, for in the space of some ten minutes a -whole age had passed for me, and I had grown from a boy to some measure -of manhood. I came out from the close-mouth with my head in the air and -defiance against all the world in my eye. - -Before I had gone five spaces I met the lad who had jostled me -aforetime, a big fellow of a raw-boned Ayrshire house, and before he -could speak I had him by the arm and had pulled him across the way into -the college gardens. There I found a quiet green place, and plucking -off my coat I said, "Now, Master Dalrymple, you and I have a small -account to settle." With that we fell to with our fists, and in the -space of a quarter of an hour I had beaten him so grievously that he was -fain to cry for mercy. I let him go, and with much whimpering he slunk -away in disgust. - -Then I went into the town and bought myself a new blade and a fine suit -of clothes--all with the greatest gusto and lightness of heart. I went -to the inn where Maisie was stabled and bade them have her ready for me -at the college gate in an hour. Then I bade good-bye to all my friends, -but especially to Master Sandeman, from whom I was loth to part. I did -not fling my books into the Clyde as at first I proposed, but left -injunctions that they were to be sent by the carrier. So, having paid -all my debts, for my father had kept me well appointed with money, I -waved a long farewell and set out for my own country. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - COUSINLY AFFECTION - - -It was near midday before I started, so that night I got no farther than -the town of Hamilton, but lay at the inn there. The next morning I left -betimes, thinking to reach Barns in the afternoon. As I rode along the -green sward by the side of Clyde, the larks were singing in the sky and -the trout were plashing in the waters, and all the world was gay. The -apple orchards sent their blossom across the road, and my hat brushed it -down in showers on my horse and myself, so that soon we rode in a mail -of pink and white. I plucked a little branch and set it in my hat, and -sang all the songs I knew as I cantered along. I cried good-day to every -man, and flung money to the little children who shouted as I passed, so -that I believe if there had been many more boys on the road I would have -reached Tweeddale a beggar. At Crossford, where the Nethan meets the -Clyde, I met a man who had been to the salmon-fishing and had caught a -big salmon-trout; and as I looked, my old love for the sport awoke -within me, and I longed to feel a rod in my hand. It was good to be -alive, to taste the fresh air, to feel the sun and wind, and I cried a -plague on all close lecture-rooms and musty books. - -At Lanark I had a rare dinner at the hostel there. The grey old inn had -excellent fare, as I knew of old, so I rode up to the door and demanded -its best. It was blessed to see a man obey your words after for many -months being a servant of others. I had a dish of well-fed trout and a -piece of prime mutton and as good claret, I think, as I have ever -tasted. Then I rode over Lanark Moor to Hyndford and through the moor -of Carmichael and under the great shadow of Tintock. Here the smell of -burning heather came to my nostrils, and so dear and homelike did it -seem that I could have wept for very pleasure. The whaups and snipe -were making a fine to-do on the bent, and the black-faced sheep grazed -in peace. At the top of the knowe above Symington I halted, for there -before my eyes were the blue hills of Tweeddale. There was Trehenna and -the hills above Broughton, and Drummelzier Law and Glenstivon Dod, and -nearer, the great Caerdon; and beyond all a long blue back which I knew -could be none other than the hill of Scrape which shadowed Dawyck and my -lady. - -I came to Barns at three o'clock in the afternoon, somewhat stiff from -my ride, but elated with my home-coming. It was with strange feelings -that I rode up the long avenue of beeches, every one of which I could -have told blindfold. The cattle looked over the palings at me as if -glad to see me return. Maisie cocked up her ears at the hares in the -grass, and sniffed the hill air as if she had been in a prison for many -days. And when I came to the bend of the road and saw the old -weatherbeaten tower, my heart gave a great leap within me, for we -Tweeddale men dearly love our own countryside, doubtless by reason of -its exceeding beauty. - -As I rode up Tam Todd came out from the back, and seeing me, let fall -the water which he was carrying and ran to my side. - -"Eh, Maister John," said he, "I'm blithe to see ye back, sae braw and -genty-like. My airm's fair like timmer wi' stiffness for want o' the -backsword play, and the troots in Tweed are turned as thick as peas for -want o' you to haul them oot; and twae mornings last week there were -deer keekin' in at the front-door as tame as kittlins. There's muckle -need o' ye at hame." - -He would have gone on in this strain for an hour, had I not cut him -short by asking for my father. - -"Middlin', just middlin'. He misses ye sair. He'll scarce gang -out-doors noo, but he'll be a' richt gin he sees ye again. Oh, and I've -something mair to tell ye. That wanchancy cousin o' yours, Maister -Gilbert, cam yestreen, and he'll be bidin' till the deil kens when. -I'se warrant he's at meat wi' the auld maister the noo, for he cam in -frae the hills geyan hungry." - -Now at this intelligence I was not over-pleased. My cousin was a great -man and a gentleman, but never at any time over-friendly to me, and I -knew that to my father he was like salt in the mouth. I blamed the -ill-luck which had sent him to Barns on the very day of my home-coming. -I needs must be on my dignity in his company, for he was quick to find -matter for laughter, and it was hard that he should come at the time -when I longed so eagerly for the free ways of the house. However, there -was no help for it, I reflected, and went in. - -In the passage I met Jean Morran, my old nurse, who had heard the sound -of voices, and come out to see who the newcomer might be. "Maister -John, Maister John, and is't yoursel'? It's a glad day for the house o' -Barns when you come back"; and when I gave her the shawl-pin I had -brought her from Glasgow, she had scarce any words to thank me with. So, -knowing that my father would be in the dining-hall with his guest, I -opened the door and walked in unbidden. - -My father sat at the head of the long oak table which had been scoured -to a light-brown and shone like polished stone. Claret, his favourite -drink, was in a tankard by his elbow, and many wines decked the board. -Lower down sat my cousin, gallantly dressed in the fashion of the times, -with a coat of fine Spanish leather and small-clothes of some rich dark -stuff. His plumed hat and riding cloak of purple velvet lay on the -settle at his side. His brown hair fell over his collar and shoulders -and well set off his strong, brown face. He sat after the fashion of a -soldier, on the side of his chair half-turned away from the table, and -every now and then he would cast a piece of meat to Pierce, my old -hound, who lay stretched by the fireplace. - -My father turned round as I entered, and when he saw me his face glowed -with pleasure. Had we been alone we should have met otherwise, but it -is not meet to show one's feelings before a stranger, even though that -stranger be one of the family. He contented himself with looking -eagerly upon me and bidding me welcome in a shaking voice. I marked -with grief that his eye did not seem so keen and brave as before, and -that he was scarce able to rise from his chair. - -My cousin half arose and made me a grand bow in his courtly fashion. - -"Welcome, my dear cousin," said he. "I am glad to see that your studies -have had little effect on your face." (I was flushed with hard riding.) -"You look as if you had just come from a campaign. But fall to. Here -are prime fish which I can commend; and venison, also good, though I -have had better. Here, too, is wine, and I drink to your success, my -learned cousin"; and he filled his glass and drank it at a gulp. He -spoke in a half-bantering tone, though his words were kindly. I -answered him briskly. - -"I had little thought to find you here, Gilbert, but I am right glad to -see you. You are prospering mightily, I hear, and will soon be -forgetting your poor cousins of Barns"; and after a few more words I set -myself to give my father a history of my doings at Glasgow College. -Again, had we been alone, I should have told him my causes for leaving -and my wishes for my after life, but since my cousin was present, who -had ever a sharp tongue, I judged it better to say nothing. - -I told my father all that I could think of, and then asked how he had -fared in my absence, for I had had but few letters, and what of note had -happened at Barns. - -"Ay, John," he said, "I'm an old man. I fear that my life here will be -short. I scarce can get outside without Tam Todd to lean on, and I have -little sleep o' nights. And John, I could wish that you would bide at -home now, for I like to see you beside me, and you'll have learned all -the folk of Glasgow have to teach you. I once wished you a soldier, but -I am glad now that I let the thing blow by, for I would have cared -little to have you coming here but once in the six months, for a flying -visit." - -"Nay, uncle," said my cousin, "you do not put the matter fairly. For -myself, I believe there is none busier in Scotland than I, but, Gad, I -have always time to slip home to Eaglesham for a day or more. But my -father would care little though he never saw me but once in the year, -for each time I go back I get a long sermon on my conduct, with my -expenses for the year as a text, till I am fairly driven out of the -house for peace." - -At this my father laughed. "Ay, ay," said he, "that's like my brother -Gilbert. He was always a hard man at the siller. Man, I mind when we -were both the terrors o' the place, but all the while not a thing would -he do, if it meant the loss of a bodle. Pity but I had taken after him -in that, and John would have been better supplied to-day." - -"Oh," I answered, "I have all I need and more." - -Hereupon my cousin spoke with a sneer in his voice. "A groat is enough -for a scholar, but the soldier must have a crown. Your scholar, as -doubtless John can tell, is content if he have a sad-coloured suit, some -musty books, and a stoup of bad wine; but your fine gentleman must have -his horses and servants, and dress himself like his quality for all the -maids to stare at, and have plenty of loose silver to fling to the -gaping crowd; and he is a poor fellow indeed if he do not eat and drink -the best that each tavern can give. As for me, I would as soon be a -clown in the fields as a scholar, with apologies to my cousin"; and he -made me another of his mocking bows. - -I answered as gently as I could that gentrice did not consist in -daintiness of eating and drinking or boisterous display, and that in my -opinion nothing gave so fine a flavour to gentility as a tincture of -letters; but my father changed the conversation by asking Gilbert what -he had been after that day. - -"'Faith, it would be hard to say," said he. "I got a gun from that -long-legged, sour-faced groom and went up the big hill above the trees -to have a shot at something. I killed a couple of hares and sprung an -old muirfowl; but the day grew warm and I thought that the wood would -make a pleasant shade, so I e'en turned my steps there and went to sleep -below a great oak, and dreamed that I ran a man through the bowels for -challenging my courage. It was an ill-omened dream, and I expected to -meet with some mishap to account for it ere I got back, but I saw -nothing except a lovely girl plucking primroses by the water side. -Zounds, Jock, what a fool you must be never to have found out this -beauty! She had hair like gold and eyes like sapphires. I've seen many -a good-looking wench, but never one like her." - -"And what did you do?" I asked, with my heart beating wildly. - -"Do," he laughed. "Your scholar would have passed in silence and -written odes to her as Venus or Helen for months; whereas I took off my -bonnet and made haste to enter into polite conversation. But this girl -would have none of me; she's a rose, I warrant, with a pretty setting of -thorns. She tripped away, and when I made to follow her, became Madam -Fine-airs at once, and declared that her servants were within easy -reach, so I had better have a care of my conduct." - -My father shot a sharp glance at me, and addressed my cousin. "The maid -would be Marjory Veitch, old Sir John's daughter, at Dawyck. He, poor -man, has gone to his account, and her brother is abroad, so the poor -girl is lonely enough in that great house. John and she have been -friends from the time they were children. She has come here, too, and a -pretty, modest lass she is, though she favours her mother rather than -her father's folk." - -At this intelligence my cousin whistled long and low. "So, so," said -he, "my scholar has an eye in his head, has he? And Dawyck is not far -off, and--well, no wonder you do not care for the military profession. -Though, let me tell you, it is as well for the course of true love that -there are few cavaliers in this countryside, else Mistress Marjory might -have higher notions." - -I answered nothing, for, though I loved Marjory well, and thought that -she loved me, I had never spoken to her on the matter; for from -childhood we had been comrades and friends. So I did not care to reply -on a matter which I regarded as so delicate and uncertain. - -My cousin was a man who grew sorely vexed by receiving no answer from -the object of his wit; and, perhaps on this account, he went further -than he meant in his irritation. "Nay, John," he went on, "you're but a -sorry fellow at the best, with your tags from the Latin, and your poor -spirit. I am one of the meanest of His Majesty's soldiers, but I can -outride you, I can beat you at sword-play, at mark-shooting, at all -manly sports. I can hold my head before the highest in the land; I can -make the vulgar bow before me to the ground. There are no parts of a -gentleman's equipment in which I am not your better." - -Now, had we been alone, I should not have scrupled to fling the lie in -his teeth, and offer to settle the matter on the spot. But I did not -wish to excite my father in his feeble health, so I made no reply beyond -saying that events would show the better man. My father, however, took -it upon himself to defend me. "Peace, Gilbert," he said. "I will not -have my son spoken thus of in my own house. He has as much spirit as -you, I'll warrant, though he is less fond of blowing his own trumpet." -I saw with annoyance that my father plainly thought my conduct cowardly, -and would have been better pleased had I struck my cousin then and -there. But I knew how cruelly excited he would be by the matter, and, -in his weakness, I feared the result. Also, the man was our guest, and -my cousin. - -When we rose from supper I assisted my father in walking to his chair by -the fire; for, though the weather was mild and spring-like, his blood -was so impoverished that he felt the cold keenly. Then my cousin and -myself strolled out of doors to the green lawn, below which Tweed ran -low and silvery clear. I felt anger against him, yet not so much as I -would have felt towards another man, had he used the same words; for I -knew Gilbert to be of an absurd boasting nature, which made him do more -evil than he had in his heart. Still my honour, or pride (call it what -you please), was wounded, and I cast about me for some way to heal it. - -"Gilbert," I said, "we have both done much work to-day, so we are both -about equally wearied." - -"Maybe," said he. - -"But your horse is fresh, and a good one, as I know; and you are a good -horseman, as you say yourself. You had much to say about my poor -horsemanship at supper. Will you try a race with me?" - -He looked at me scornfully for a minute. "Nay, there is little honour -to be got from that. You knew the ground, and your horse, for all I -know, may be swifter than mine. It was not of horses I spoke, but of -the riders." - -"In the race which I offer you," I answered, "we will both start fair. -Do you see yon rift in the hill beyond Scrape? It is the Red Syke, a -long dark hole in the side of the hill. I have never ridden there, for -the ground is rough and boggy, and I have never heard of a horseman -there since Montrose's rising. Will you dare to ride with me to yonder -place and back?" - -At this my cousin's face changed a little, for he had no liking for -breaking his neck on the wild hills. And now, when I look back on the -proposal, it seems a mad, foolhardy one in very truth. But then we were -both young and spirited, and reckless of our lives. - -"Mount and ride," said he. "I'll be there and back before you are -half-road, unless, indeed, I have to carry you home." - -Together we went round to the stables, and I saddled a black horse of my -father's, for Maisie had already travelled far that day. The Weasel, we -called him, for he was long and thin in the flanks, with a small head, -and a pointed muzzle. He was viciously ill-tempered, and would allow no -groom to saddle him; but before I had gone to Glasgow I had mounted and -ridden him bareback up and down the channel of Tweed till he was -dead-beat, and I half-drowned and shaken almost to pieces. Ever since -this escapade he had allowed me to do what I liked with him; and, though -I did not find him as pleasant to ride as the incomparable Maisie, yet I -knew his great strength and alertness. My cousin's horse was a good -cavalry charger, strong, but, as I thought, somewhat too heavy in the -legs for great endurance. - -We mounted and rode together out among the trees to the fields which -bordered on the hills. I was sore in the back when I started, but, -after the first half-mile, my sprightliness returned, and I felt fit to -ride over Broad Law. My cousin was in an ill mood, for the sport was -not to his taste, though he felt bound in honour to justify his words. - -The spur of Scrape, which we came to, was called, by the country people, -the Deid Wife, for there an Irish woman, the wife of one of Montrose's -camp followers, had been killed by the folk of the place after the rout -at Philiphaugh. We had much ado to keep our horses from slipping back, -for the loose stones which covered the face of the hill gave a feeble -foothold. The Weasel took the brae like a deer, but my cousin's heavy -horse laboured and panted sorely before it reached the top. Before us -stretched the long upland moors, boggy, and cleft with deep ravines, -with Scrape on the right, and straight in front, six miles beyond, the -great broad crest of Dollar Law. Here we separated, my cousin riding -forward, while I thought the road to the left would be the surer. Clear -before us lay the Red Syke, an ugly gash, into which the setting sun was -beginning to cast his beams. - -And now I found myself in a most perilous position. The Weasel's feet -were light and touchy, and he stumbled among the stones and tall heather -till I had sore work to keep my seat. My cousin's horse was of a -heavier make, and I could see it galloping gallantly over the broken -ground. I cheered my steed with words, and patted his neck, and kept a -tight hand on the rein. Sometimes we slipped among the shingle, and -sometimes stumbled over rocks half-hid in brackens. Then we passed into -a surer place among short, burned heather. The dry twigs gave forth a -strange, creaking sound as the horse's feet trod on them, and puffs of -grey dust and ashes, the sign of the burning, rose at every step. Then, -beyond this, we went to a long stretch of crisp mountain grass, pleasant -for both horse and rider. We splashed through little tumbling burns, -and waded through pools left by the spring rains. But, of a sudden, the -ground grew softer, and even the Weasel's light weight could not pass in -safety. At one time, indeed, I reined him back just on the brink of a -treacherous well-eye, from which neither of us would have returned. I -cast a glance at my cousin, who was still ahead; his heavy charger was -floundering wearily, and he lashed it as if his life were at stake. Then -we passed the green bog and came to a great peat-moss, full of hags, -where the shepherds had been casting peats. Here the riding was more -difficult, for the holes whence the peats had come were often some five -feet deep, and it was no easy matter to get a horse out of that -treacherous black mud. The Weasel did gallantly, and only once did I -dismount, when his hind feet were too deeply sunk to permit him to leap. -Beyond me I saw my cousin, riding swiftly, for the middle of the moss, -as it chanced, was the firmest and evenest place. We were now scarce a -hundred yards from the ravine of the Red Syke, and, even as I looked, I -saw him reach it, rest a second to give his horse breathing-space, and -then turn on his homeward way. - -I came to the place a minute after, and having compassion on my brave -horse, I dismounted, and eased him of my weight for a little. Then I -got on his back again and set off. Gilbert I saw before me, riding, as -I thought, in the worst part, and with a fury that must tell sooner or -later on his heavy steed. I had scarce been a moment in the saddle, -when, so strange are the ways of horses, the Weasel became aware, for -the first time, of the other in front. Before, it had been a toil for -him, now it became a pleasure, a race, which it lay with his honour to -win. He cocked up his wicked, black ears, put down his head, and I felt -the long legs gathering beneath me. I cried aloud with delight, for now -I knew that no horse in Tweeddale could hope to match him when the mood -was on him. He flew over the hags as if he had been in a paddock; he -leaped among the hard parts of the green bog, from tussock to tussock, -as skilfully as if he had known nothing but mosses all his days. We -came up with Gilbert at the edge of the rough ground, lashing on his -horse, with his face flushed and his teeth set. We passed him like the -wind, and were galloping among the rocks and brackens, while he was -painfully picking his steps. A merciful providence must have watched -over the Weasel's path that day, for never horse ran so recklessly. -Among slippery boulders and cruel jagged rocks and treacherous shingle -he ran like a hare. I grew exultant, laughed, and patted his neck. The -sun was setting behind us, and we rode in a broad patch of yellow light. -In a trice we were on the brow of the Deid Wife. Down we went, slipping -yards at a time, now doubling along the side; sometimes I was almost -over the horse's head, sometimes all but off the tail; there was never, -since the two daft lairds rode down Horsehope Craig, such a madcap ride. -I scarce know how I reached the foot in safety: but reach it I did, and -rode merrily among the trees till I came to the green meadowlands about -the house of Barns. Here I dismounted and waited for my cousin, for I -did not care to have the serving-men laugh at him riding in after me. - -I waited a good half-hour before he appeared. A sorry sight he -presented. His breeches and jerkin had more than one rent in them; his -hat was gone; and his face was flushed almost crimson with effort. His -horse had bleeding knees, and its shoulders shook pitifully. - -"Pardon me, Gilbert," I said in a fit of repentance; "it was a foolish -thing in me to lead you such a senseless road. I might have known that -your horse was too heavy for the work. It was no fault of yours that -you did not come home before me. I trust that we may forget our -quarrels, and live in friendship, as kinsmen should." - -"Friendship be damned," he cried in a mighty rage. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - HOW MASTER GILBERT BURNET PLAYED A GAME AND WAS CHECKMATED - - -That night I was too wearied and sore in body to sleep. My mind also -was troubled, for I had made an enemy of my cousin, who, as I knew, was -not of a nature to forgive readily. His words about Marjory had put me -into a ferment of anxiety. Here was my love, bound to me by no promise, -at the mercy of all the gallants of the countryside. Who was I, to call -myself her lover, when, as yet, no word of love had passed between us? -Yet, in my inmost heart, I knew that I might get the promise any day I -chose. Then thoughts of my cousin came to trouble me. I feared him no -more than a fly in matters betwixt man and man; but might he not take it -into his head to make love to the mistress of Dawyck? and all maids -dearly love a dashing cavalier. At length, after much stormy -indecision, I made up my mind. I would ride to Dawyck next morn and get -my lady's word, and so forestall Gilbert, or any other. - -I woke about six o'clock; and, looking out from the narrow window, for -Barns had been built three hundred years before, I saw that the sky was -cloudless and blue, and the morning as clear as could be seen in spring. -I hastily dressed, and, getting some slight breakfast from Jean Morran, -saddled Maisie, who was now as active as ever, and rode out among the -trees. I feared to come to Dawyck too early, so I forded Tweed below -the island, and took the road up the further bank by Lyne and Stobo. -All the world was bright; an early lark sang high in the heaven; merles -and thrushes were making fine music among the low trees by the river. -The haze was lifting off the great Manor Water hills; the Red Syke, the -scene of the last night's escapade, looked very distant in the morning -light; and far beyond all Dollar Law and the high hills about Manorhead -were flushed with sunlight on their broad foreheads. A great gladness -rose in me when I looked at the hills, for they were the hills of my own -country; I knew every glen and corrie, every water and little burn. -Before me the Lyne Water hills were green as grass with no patch of -heather, and to the left, the mighty form of Scrape, half-clothed in -forest, lay quiet and sunlit. I know of no fairer sight on earth; and -this I say, after having travelled in other countries, and seen -something of their wonders; for, to my mind, there is a grace, a wild -loveliness in Tweedside, like a flower-garden on the edge of a moorland, -which is wholly its own. - -I crossed Lyne Water by the new bridge, just finished in the year -before, and entered the wood of Dawyck. For this great forest stretches -on both sides of Tweed, though it is greater on the side on which stands -the house. In the place where I rode it was thinner, and the trees -smaller, and, indeed, around the little village of Stobo, there lies an -open part of some fields' width. At the little inn there, I had a -morning's draught of ale, for I was somewhat cold with riding in the -spring air. Then I forded Tweed at a place called the Cow Ford, and, -riding through a wide avenue of lime-trees, came in sight of the grey -towers of Dawyck. - -I kept well round to the back, for I did not care that the serving-folk -should see me and spread tales over all the countryside. I knew that -Marjory's window looked sharp down on a patch of green lawn, bordered by -lime-trees, so I rode into the shadow and dismounted. I whistled thrice -in a way which I had, and which Marjory had learned to know long before, -when we were children, and I used to come and beguile her out for long -trampings among the hills. To-day it had no effect, for the singing of -birds drowned my notes, so I had nothing left but to throw bits of bark -against her window. This rude expedient met with more success than it -deserved, for in a minute I saw her face behind the glass. She smiled -gladly when she saw me, and disappeared, only to appear again in the -little door beside the lilacs. She had no hat, so her bright hair hung -loose over her neck and was blown about by the morning winds. Her cheeks -were pink and white, like apple-blossom, and her lithe form was clad in -a dress of blue velvet, plainly adorned as for a country maiden. A -spray of lilac was in her breast, and she carried a bunch of -sweet-smelling stuff in her hands. - -She came gladly towards me, her eyes dancing with pleasure. "How soon -you have returned! And how brave you look," said she, with many more -pretty and undeserved compliments. - -"Ay, Marjory," I answered, "I have come back to Tweeddale, for I have -had enough of Glasgow College and books, and I was wearying for the -hills and Tweed and a sight of your face. There are no maidens who come -near to you with all their finery. You are as fair as the spring lilies -in the garden at Barns." - -"Oh, John," she laughed, "where did you learn to pay fine compliments? -You will soon be as expert at the trade as any of them. I met a man -yesterday in the woods who spoke like you, though with a more practised -air; but I bade him keep his fine words for his fine ladies, for they -suited ill with the hills and a plain country maid." - -At this, I must suppose that my brows grew dark, for she went on -laughingly. - -"Nay, you are not jealous? It ill becomes a scholar and a philosopher -as you are, Master John, to think so much of an idle word. Confess, -sir, that you are jealous. Why, you are as bad as a lady in a play." - -I could not make out her mood, which was a new one to me--a mocking -pleasant raillery, which I took for the rightful punishment of my past -follies. - -"I am not jealous," I said, "for jealousy is a feeling which needs an -object ere it can exist. No man may be jealous, unless he has something -to be jealous about." - -"John, John," she cried, and shook her head prettily, "you are -incorrigible. I had thought you had learned manners in the town, and -behold, you are worse than when you went away. You come here, and your -first word to me is that I am nothing." - -"God knows," I said, "I would fain be jealous, and yet--" I became -awkward and nervous, for I felt that my mission was not prospering, and -that I was becoming entangled in a maze of meaningless speech. The -shortest and plainest way is still the best in love as in all things. - -But I was not to be let off, and she finished my sentence for me. "If -only you could find a worthy object for your feeling, you mean," she -said. "Very well, sir, since I am so little valued in your eyes, we will -speak no more on the matter." - -"Marjory," I said, coming to the matter at once, "you and I have been -old comrades. We have fished and walked together, we have climbed the -hills and ridden in the meadows. I have done your bidding for many -years." - -"True, John," she said with an accent of grudging reminiscence, "you -have dragged me into many a pretty pickle. I have torn my dress on -rough rocks and soaked my shoes in bogs, all in your company. Surely we -have had a brave time together." - -"You met a man in the wood yesterday who would fain have made love to -you. That man was my cousin Gilbert." - -"Oh," she replied in a tone of mock solemnity and amused wonder, for I -had blurted out my last words like the last dying confession of some -prisoner. "Verily you are honoured in your cousinship, John." - -"It is against him and such as him that I would protect you," I said. - -"Nay," she cried, with an affected remonstrance. "I will have no -fighting between cousins on my account. I will even defend myself, as -Alison did when the miller made love to her." - -"O Marjory," I burst out, "will you not give me this right to defend -you? We have been old companions, but it was only yesterday that I knew -how dearly I loved you. I have had more cares since yester-night than -ever in my life. We have been comrades in childhood; let us be comrades -on the rough paths of the world." - -I spoke earnestly, and her face, which had been filled with mockery, -changed gently to something akin to tenderness. - -"How little you know of women!" she cried. "I have loved you for years, -thinking of you at all times, and now you come to-day, speaking as if -you had scarce seen me before. Surely I will bear you company in life, -as I have been your comrade at its beginning." - -What followed I need scarce tell, since it is but part of the old comedy -of life, which our grandfathers and grandmothers played before us, and -mayhap our grand-children will be playing even now when our back is -turned. Under the spring sky among the lilies we plighted our troth for -the years, and I entered from careless youth into the dim and resolute -region of manhood. - -With a great joy in my heart I rode home. I took the high way over the -shoulder of Scrape, for I knew that few folk ever went that road, and I -wished to be alone. The birds were singing, the fresh clean air was -blowing on my face, and the primroses and wind-flowers made a gay carpet -under my horse's feet. All the earth seemed to partake in my gladness. -It was a good world, I thought, full of true hearts, fair faces, and -much good; and though I have seen much wickedness and sorrow in my day, -I am still of the same way of thinking. It is a brave world; a royal -world for brave-hearted men. - -When I came to Barns I found that my cousin had gone out an hour since -and left my father greatly wondering at my absence. He sat in the chair -by the fireplace, looking more withered and old than I had ever seen -him. My heart smote me for not staying at his side, and so I sat down -by him and told him many things of my doings in Glasgow, and how I -desired above all things to see the world, having had my fill of books -and colleges. Then I told him what he had long guessed, of my love for -Marjory Veitch and the promise which she had given me. He heard me in -silence, but when he spoke, his words were cheerful, for he had long -liked the lass. He made no refusal, too, to the rest of my plans. "You -shall go and see the world, John," he said, "and take my blessing with -you. It ill becomes a young mettlesome lad in these stirring times to -lounge at home, when he might be wearing a steel breastplate in the -King's Guards, or trying the manners of twenty nations. Though I could -wish you to bide at home, for I am an old broken man with few pleasures, -and I love the sight of your face." - -"Nay, I will never leave you," I said, "an you wish it. I am young yet -and a boy's road is a long road. Time enough for all." - -After this I went out to see if the Weasel had come to any mishap in the -last night's ride. I found him as stout as ever, so I saddled him and -rode away by the green haughlands up the valley of the Manor, for I -longed for motion and air to relieve my spirit: and coming home in the -afternoon, I found my cousin returned and sitting with my father in the -dining-hall. - -He glanced sharply at me when I entered, and I saw by his looks that he -was in no good temper. His heavy face was flushed and his shaggy -eyebrows were lowered more than their wont. - -"Where have you been, Gilbert?" I asked. "I found you gone when I came -back in the morning." - -"I took my horse down to Peebles to the farrier. Its knees were sorely -hurt last night on your infernal hills." - -Now I knew that this was a lie, for I had looked at his horse before I -went out in the morning, and its wounds were so slight that it would -have been mere folly to take him to a farrier; and Gilbert, I well knew, -was not the man to be in error where horses were concerned. So I judged -that he had ridden in the contrary direction, and gone to Dawyck, and, -as I inferred from his sour looks, met with no good reception there. I -could afford to be generous; I felt a sort of half-pity for his -discomfiture, and forbore to ask him any further questions. - -We sat down to supper, he and I and my father, in a sober frame of mind. -I was full of my own thoughts, which were of the pleasantest; my cousin -was plainly angry with something or other; and my father, in his -weakness dimly perceiving that all was not right, set himself to mend -matters by engaging him in talk. - -"You're a good shot with the musket, they tell me, Gibbie," he said, -using the old name which he had called him by when he first came to -Barns as a boy, "and I was thinking that it would be a rare ploy for you -and John to go down the water to Traquair, where Captain Keith's horse -are lying. He is an old friend of mine, and would be blithe to see any -of my kin. They tell me he has great trials of skill in all exercises, -and that he has gathered half the gentry in the place about him." - -"John," said my cousin in a scornful voice, "John is too busily employed -at Dawyck to care much for anything else. A flighty maid is a sore -burden on any man." - -"I would have you learn, Master Gilbert," I said angrily, "to speak in a -better way of myself and my friends. You may be a very great gentleman -elsewhere, but you seem to leave your gentility behind when you come -here." - -Now my cousin and I were of such opposite natures that I took most -things seriously, while he found matter for a jest in all--yet not in -full good-nature, but with a touch of acrid satire. - -"Even a barn-door cock will defend his own roost. How one sees the truth -of proverbs!" - -And then he added that which I will not set down, but which brought my -father and myself to our feet with flashing eyes and quivering lips. I -would have spoken, but my father motioned me to be silent. - -"Gilbert," he said, his voice shaking with age and anger, "you will -leave this house the morn. I will have no scoundrelly fellow of your -kidney here. You are no true nephew of mine, and God pity the father -that begat you." - -My cousin smiled disdainfully and rose from his chair. "Surely I will -go and at once when my hospitable uncle bids me. The entertainment in -this damned hole is not so good as to keep me long. As for you, Cousin -John," and he eyed me malignantly, "you and I will meet some day, where -there are no dotards and wenches to come between us. Then I promise you -some sport. Till then, farewell. I will down to Peebles to-night and -trouble you no more." With a wave of his hand he was gone, and five -minutes later we heard his horse's hooves clatter over the stones of the -yard. - -When he was gone his conduct came back to my father with a rush, and he -fell to upbraiding himself for his breach of hospitality and family -honour. He would have me call Gilbert back, and when I showed him how -futile it was, fell into low spirits and repented in great bitterness. - - -Now the worst of this day's business remains to be told. For when I -looked at my father some time after I found him sunk in his chair with -his face as pale as death. With the help of Jean Morran and Tam Todd I -got him to bed, from which he never rose, but passed peacefully away in -the fear of God two days later. The heat into which he had been thrown -was the direct cause, and though I could not very well lay the thing to -my cousin's charge when the man was already so far down the vale of -years, yet in my heart I set it against him. Indeed from this day I -date my antagonism to the man, which before had been a mere boyish -rivalry. - -I stayed with my father to the end. Just before he died he bade me come -near and gave me his blessing, bidding me be a better gentleman than he -had been. We did not bury him in the Kirk of Lyne, for he had always -said he never could abide to lie within walls. but on a green flat above -Tweed, where the echo of the river and the crying of moorbirds are never -absent from his grave. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - THE PEGASUS INN AT PEEBLES AND HOW A STRANGER RETURNED FROM THE WARS - - -Of my doings for some months after my father's death I must tell -hastily. I fell heir to the lands of Barns, and being of age entered at -once into my possession. The place remained the same as in my father's -time, the same servants and the same ways about the house. I lived -simply as I had always lived, spending my days in seeing to the land, in -field sports, and some little study, for I had not altogether forsaken -the Muses. But all the time I felt as one who is kept at home against -his will, being conscious of a restlessness and an inclination to travel -which was new to me, but which I doubt not is common to all young men at -this time of life. I talked much with Tam Todd of the lands which he -had visited, and heard of the Dutch towns with their strange shipping, -their canals and orderly houses, and of the rough Norlanders, clad in -the skins of wild animals, who came down to the Swedish markets to -trade; of the soldiery of Germany and France and the Scots who had gone -over there to push their fortunes with their swords; and what I loved -best, of the salt sea with its boundless waste of waters and wild tales -of shipwreck. Formerly I had been wont often to bid Tam sharply to hold -his peace when he entered on one of his interminable narrations; but now -I sat and drank in every word like a thirsty man. It was the -winter-time, when the roads were often snowed up and all the folk of the -place gathered in the great kitchen at nights round the fire; so it was -the time for stories and we had our fill of them. - -One blustering day, the first Monday, I think, after the New Year, when -the ice was beginning to melt from the burns and a wet, cold wind from -the north-west was blowing, I rode down to Peebles to settle some -matters about money with Saunders Blackett, who had managed my father's -affairs and was now intrusted with mine. All things were done to my -satisfaction; so bethinking myself that the way to Barns was cold and -long and that it was yet early in the afternoon, being scarce four -o'clock, I found myself thinking pleasantly of the warm inn-parlour of -the _Pegasus_, so thither I went. - -The _Pegasus_ or "Peg" Inn stands at the corner of the Northgate and the -High Street, a black-gabled building, once the town-house of the Govans -of Cardrona, and still retaining marks of its gentility in the arms -carved above the door. A great sign flapped in the wind, bearing on a -white ground a gorgeous representation of a winged horse soaring through -clouds. The landlord at this time was one Horsbrock, a portly, -well-looking man, who claimed to be kin to the Horsbrocks of that ilk -and held his chin two inches higher in consequence. The place was famed -in all the country round for good wine and comfort. - -I stabled my horse and, bidding the host bring me a bottle of Rhenish -(so fine a thing it is to have succeeded to lands and money), I went -into the low-ceilinged room where the company sat. It was panelled in a -darkish wood, and hung round with old weapons, halberds and falchions -and what not, which glimmered brightly in the firelight. A narrow -window gave it light, but now it sufficed only to show the grey winter -dusk coming swiftly on. Around the fire sat some few of the men of -Peebles, warming themselves and discussing the landlord's ale and the -characters of their neighbours. - -They rose to give me welcome when I entered, for my name and family were -well known in the countryside. - -"It's awfu' weather for man and beast, Laird," said an old man with a -bent back, but still hale and hearty in the face. "A snawy winter I can -abide, and a wet yin, but drizzlin', dreepin', seepin' weather wi' a -wind that taks the heart out o' ye is mair than my patience can stand." - -"You have little need to speak, you folk," I said, "living in a -well-paved town with stones beneath your feet and nothing more to do -than go round a street corner all day. Up at Barns, with Tweed swirling -in at the yard gate, and the stables flowing like a linn, and the wind -playing cantrips day and night in and out of the windows, you might -talk." - -"Ay, but, good sir," put in a thin voice which came from a little man I -had seen at the bowling-green, "ye may thank the Lord for a roof abune -your heids and dry claes to put on, when sae many godly folks are hiding -like pelicans in the wilderness among the high hills and deep mosses. I -bless the Lord that my faither, that sant o' the Kirk, is not living in -thae evil times. He was a man o' a truly great spirit, and had he been -alive, I'se warrant he wad hae been awa to join them. He was aye strong -on his conscience. 'John Look-up' so the godless called him. 'John -Look-up,' said my mother, 'ye'll never be pleased till we're a' joltin' -in a cairt to the Grassmarket o' Edinburgh. And a braw sicht ye'll be, -hanging there like a hoodie-craw wi' a' your bairns aside ye.' Ay, -these were often her words, for she had a sarcastic tongue." - -"Jock Look-up, my man," said another, "I kenned your faither a' his -days, and he was na the man to hang. He lookit up and he lookit a' -ways. He was yin whae could baith watch and pray. Gin ye were mair -like him, ye wad be a mair thrivin' man." - -"Aboot the hill-folk," said the old man who had first spoken, drinking -his ale and turning up the measure to see that no more was left, "did ye -ever hear o' my son Francie and what happened to him when he gaed awa to -Moffat wi' 'oo'? He gaed ower by Traquair and keepit the road till he -got to Moffat, for he had a horse that wasna ower sure o' its feet on -the hills. But when he had it a' sellt, whae does he meet in wi' but -Wull Hislop the travelling packman, whae's sair needing a beast. So -Francie sells him his horse and comes aff hame walking ower the muirs. -He gaed up Moffat Water and ower the muckle hill they ca' -Corriefragauns, and got on nane sae bad till he cam to the awfu' craigs -abune Loch Skene. He was walking briskly, thinking o' hame and the -siller in his pouch and how he wad win to Peebles that nicht, when he -saw afore him the awfu'est sicht that ever he had seen. It was a man o' -maybe the same heicht as himsel, wi' a heid of red hair, and nae claes -to speak o', but just a kind o' clout about his middle. He began to -speak in an outlandish voice and Francie kenned at yince that he maun be -yin o' thae Hieland deevils brocht doun to hunt up the Whigs. He was -for Francie's money, and he oot wi' a big knife and flashed it up and -doun. But this was no to Francie's liking. 'Put that doun, ye -ill-looking deevil,' says he, 'ye'll find I'm nane o' your hill-folk, -but an honest man frae Peebles wi' a nieve as hard as your heid's saft, -and if ye dinna let me by, I'll put ye in the loch as sure as my name's -Francie Trummle.' The body understood him brawly, and wi' a grunt slunk -aff among the heather, and Francie had nae mair bother wi' him. But O! -it's an awfu' thing to think o' men o' your ain blood hunted and killed -wi' thae foreign craturs. It maks me half-mindit to turn Whig mysel." - -"Dinna fash yoursel, Maister Trummle," said a younger man, a farmer by -his looks, "ye're better bidin' in peace and quiet at hame. The Lord -never meant folk to gang among hills and peat-bogs, unless after sheep. -It's clean against the order o' things. But there's yae thing that -reconciles me to this Whig-hunting. They're maistly wast-country folk, -and wast-country folk are an ill lot, aye shoving their nebs where -they're no want it. There's no mony Whigs in Tweeddale. Na, na, -they're ower canny." - -Master Turnbull made as if he would have answered, when a clatter of -feet was heard in the passage, and the door opened. Two men entered, -one a great swarthy fellow well known for his poaching escapades when -the salmon came up the water, and the other, Peter Crustcrackit the -tailor. They did not enter in company, for Peter swaggered in with as -gallant an air as two bent legs and a small body could permit, while the -other slunk in with a half-apologetic look, glancing keenly round to see -who were the other occupants of the room. - -"The 'Peg' is honoured with your company tonight, I see," said Peter, -making a bow to me. "'Tis the finest gathering that I remember: the -Laird o' Barns, worthy Maister Trumbull, myself, and my honoured freend, -Maister Simon Doolittle." - -The black fisher lifted his face from the ale which the landlord had -brought. "Your guid health, gentlemen. I'm prood o' your company, -though I'm no just fit for't, since I'm no half an 'oor oot o' the -Dookit Pool." - -All eyes were turned to the speaker, and we saw that his clothes hung -limp and wet. - -"And pray, how did you get there, Maister Doolittle? Was't by the -working o' Providence, or the wiles o' sinfu' man?" - -"A mixture o' baith. I took a bit daunder up Tweed to the Castle Rock -to see how the water was rinnin'. It's been raither grimily for fishin' -o' late. Ye a' ken the rocks that they're no exactly the sort o' place -that a man wad choose for dancin' a reel in tackety boots. Weel, I was -admiring the works o' God as manifested in a big, deep, swirlin' hole, -when afore ever I kenned I was admirin' the hole frae the middle o't. I -was gey near chokit wi' Tweed water, but I wabbled a bit, and syne -grippit a birk and held on." - -There was a pause and he took a draught of ale. - -"Weel, I roared as loud as I could, and the auld runt whae bides i' the -Castle heard me. He cam doun and askit me what was wrang. 'Wrang,' -says I. 'If ye dinna ca' ten feet o' water and you no able to soom, -wrang, I just wis ye were here yoursel.' So he gangs cannily back and -brings anither man to look at me; and the twae thocht for a while, and -then each grippit an airm and after a gey wammlin' I got oot. I was -angry at their delay, for I couldna hae held on muckle langer, so I -kickit them baith an' cam aff here. I've muckle need o' yill, fur I feel -as if I had eaten ten pund o' snaw." - -"Come nearer the fire, Simon," said one. "Ye're a muckle tried man." - -"I'm a' that," said the brown-faced poacher, and relapsed into silence. - -The lights were now lit in the streets of Peebles, as we could see by -the glimmer through the windows; but in our room no lamp was needed, for -the bright firelight was sufficient for a man to read a little book by. -The great shadows danced on the wall, bent and crooked into a thousand -phantasies; and the men by the fire nodded and spoke little. Then the -old man Turnbull began an argument with the tailor about some clothes in -which he said he had been cheated; and Peter Crustcrackit, never a -quiet-tempered man, was rejoining with vigour. I heard only fragments -of their talk, being taken up in dreaming of my future course, and when -I should go to see the world. - -The mild-mannered man, him they called John Look-up, was sleeping in his -chair, and his jug of ale which he had emptied hung limply in his hand. -In a little it fell to the floor and rolled beneath his chair; but the -sleeper never stirred. The poacher sat shrouded in vapour, which the -heat of the fire had brought out of his wet garments, and a mingled -smell of damp cloth and burning wood filled the room. The discordant -voices of the tailor and his antagonist rose and fell, now sinking to a -mumbled whisper, and now rising to sharp recrimination. By and by they -came to an end of their dispute, and silence reigned undisturbed; and I -verily believe that in five minutes we should all have been sound -asleep, had not something occurred to rouse us. - -This was no less than the entrance of another guest. The door was flung -open and a man entered, swaggering with a great air and bearing into the -slumbrous place a breath of the outer world. He was the finest man I -had ever seen, two inches and more taller than myself, who am not short, -and clean made as a greyhound. His face was tanned a deep brown, and -bare save for a yellow moustachio on his upper lip. His hair hung long -and fine over his shoulders, setting off the erect poise of his head. -He had removed his cloak and hat, and showed a dress of the height of -fashion; his cravat was of delicate foreign lace and the sash around his -middle of the finest silk. But what I marked especially were his -features, the thin, straight nose, the well-bred chin, and the clear -eyes; but for a certain weakness in the jaw I should have called it the -handsomest face I had ever seen. More, it was a face that wis familiar -to me. I had seen the like of it before; but where I could not tell, and -I cudgelled my brains to think of it. - -"Ah, my faith," said the stranger, speaking with a foreign accent, "what -have we here? A room-full of sleepy citizens. Or drunk, egad, drunk, I -believe." - -And he walked over to where Peter Crustcrackit sat nodding, and stared -in his face. Now the noise wakened the rest; and Peter also, who -sitting up with a stupid air thought that he was still in the shop, and -cried hurriedly, "What d'ye lack, sir? Silks or satins or plain -kersey," and ran into a recital of his wares. - -The newcomer looked at him with an amused smile. "It is not difficult -to tell your profession, my friend. The ninth of a man." - -Then he surveyed the rest of us in turn with his restless eyes, until -his look fell upon me. He must have marked something about my -appearance distinct from the others, for he bowed and addressed me -politely. - -"You are not one of these fellows, I think. May I ask the favour of -your name? I have been long absent from this country and have forgot -faces." - -"You are welcome to it," said I. "They call me John Burnet--of Barns," -I added, for the first time using my new-found title. - -He crossed to my side in an instant and held out his hand. "Your hand, -Master Burnet. You and I should be well known to each other, for we -shall be near neighbours. You may have heard of Michael Veitch of -Dawyck, him that was soldiering abroad. I am that same, returned like -the prodigal from far countries." - -Now I knew where I had seen the face before. It was but a coarse and -manly counterpart of Marjory's, though I fancied that hers was still the -braver and stronger, if all were told. - -"I have often heard of you," I said, "and I am glad to be the first to -bid you welcome to your own countryside. These are some men of the -town, honest fellows, who come here for their evening ale." - -"Your health, gentlemen," he cried, bowing to the company. "Landlord, -bring ale and a bottle of your best Burgundy till I pledge these honest -fellows." - -"Eh, sirs," I heard Peter Crustcrackit mutter under his breath, "sic an -invasion o' gentles. The Northgate o' Peebles micht be the High Street -o' Embro', for a' the braw folk that are coming tae't. I maun think -aboot shifting my shop." - -It would be well on for eight o'clock ere Master Veitch and I left the -_Pegasus_ to ride homeward. The night was quieter and milder, and -overhead a patch of clear sky showed the stars. He had with him two -serving-men who carried his belongings, but they rode some little -distance behind. He was full of questions about Dawyck and his kinsfolk -there and the countryside around; so I must needs tell him something of -what had passed between Marjory and myself. He seemed not ill-pleased. -"What," he cried, "little Marjory, who was scarce higher than my knee -when I left! To think that she should have grown into a woman already! -And you say she is pretty?" - -Which question gave me much opportunity for such talk as one must use -when he feels the littleness of words. - -Then he must ask me about myself, of my father, of whose death he was -ignorant, and what I purposed to do. "For I doubt," said he, "that you -will have but a dull time of it at Barns in that great desolate house. -It little befits an active man to pine at home like a mouse in a cell." - -So from one thing to another, he had me to tell him of all my desires, -of how I longed above all things to travel and see the world; and he -spoke to me in such a fashion that ere we had come to the ford of Tweed -my intention was fixed to ride out like the Spanish Don to see what -might befall me. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - I TAKE LEAVE OF MY FRIENDS - - -The next month was, I think, the busiest in my life. For from the -evening of my meeting with Michael Veitch my mind was firmly made up to -go to travel abroad, and with this determination came all the countless -troubles which a man must meet before he can leave his home. I was busy -night and day, now down at Peebles, now riding up Manor and all over the -Barns lands, seeing that all things were in right order ere my -departure. I got together all the money I desired, and with drafts on -the Dutch bankers, which the lawyer folk in Edinburgh got for me, I was -in no danger of falling into poverty abroad. - -On Tam Todd I laid the management of all things in my absence; and Tam, -much impressed by his responsibility, though it was a task which he had -really undertaken long before in the later years of my father's life, -went about his work with a serious, preoccupied air, as of Atlas with -the world on his shoulders. I had much ado in getting ready my baggage -for the journey, for I wished to take little, being confident that I -could buy all things needful abroad. Jean Morran, on the other hand, -would have had me take half the plenishing of the house of Barns, from -linen sheets to fresh-kirned butter, for I could not persuade her to -think otherwise than that I was going into a desolate land among heathen -savages. - -Then I had to visit many folk up and down Tweed to take farewell; and I -had so many letters given me to men of standing abroad, that, if I had -delivered them all, I should have had to spend more time than I cared. -One I valued more than any other--a letter written by Master Gilbert -Burnet, of London, to a professor in the university of Leyden--which I -hoped would bring me into the company of scholars. For I had changed my -original intention of going to the wars, first, because I found on -examination that, in my inmost heart, I had that hankering after -learning which would never be sated save by a life with some facilities -for study; second, because, now that I was the sole member of the house, -it behooved me to bide on the land and see to it, and any such thing as -soldiering would keep me away for too great a time. I sent, too, to the -College Library at Glasgow, for all the books on the Low Countries to be -had, and spent much profitable time reading of the history of the place, -and how the land lay. - -During these days I was much in the company of the new master of Dawyck, -and a most delectable comrade I found him. He had a vast stock of tales -and jests, collected in his travels, with which he would amuse his -friends; he was something of a scholar, and could talk learnedly when he -chose; and he was expert at all outdoor sports, pressing me hard at the -sword-play, in which I prided myself on my skill. He was of a free, -generous nature, and singularly courteous to all, high and low, rich and -poor alike. Yet, with all these excellencies, there was much that I -liked ill about him, for he was over-fond of resorting to the taverns at -Peebles, where he would muddle his wits in the company of his inferiors. -His life at Dawyck was none of the most regular, though, indeed, I have -little cause to blame him, being none so good myself; though the vice of -over-indulging in wine was one that Providence always mercifully kept me -from. - -He came perhaps every third day to Barns to ride with me in the haugh, -and he would abide to supper-time, or even over night, making me fear -for Marjory's peace of mind. To his sister he was most dutiful and -kind, and I was glad to think that now the days might be more pleasant -for her with her brother in the house. And it pleased me to think that -when I went abroad, my lady would be left in no bad keeping. - -The days, the short January days, passed quickly over my head, and, -almost ere I knew, the time had come for my departure. And now, when -the hour came so nigh, I felt some pain at the thought of leaving home -and my beloved countryside for unknown places; though, to tell the -truth, such thoughts were not ill to dispel by the contemplation of the -pleasures in prospect. Yet it was with mingled feelings that I rode -over to Dawyck on a sharp Monday afternoon to bid Marjory farewell. - -I found her in the low, dim room, looking to the west, where she was -wont to sit in winter. A great fire crackled cheerily on the hearth, -and many little devices about the place showed a woman's hand. Holly, -with scarlet berries, put colour into the sombre walls, and Marjory -herself, brighter than any flower, made the firelight dull in the -contrast; so fair she looked, as she greeted me, with her bright hair -and unfathomable eyes. - -"I have come to see you for the last time, Marjory," I said; "to-morrow -I set out on my travels." - -"I am vexed that you are going away," and she looked at me sadly; "it -will be lonely in Tweeddale without you." - -"My dear lass, I will not be long. Two years at the longest, and then I -will be home to you, and travel no more. What say you, Marjory?" - -"Your will be done, John. Yet I would I could have gone with you." - -"I would you could, my dear," I said. "But that might scarce be. You -would not like, I think, to sail on rough seas, or bide among towns and -colleges. You love the woods too well." - -"Wherever you were," said she, with her eyes drooped, "I would be -content to be." - -"But Marjory, lass," I spoke up cheerfully, for I feared to make her -sad, "you would not like me to stay at home, when the world is so wide, -and so many brave things to be seen." - -"No, no. I have no love for folks who bide in the house like children. -I would have you go and do gallantly, and come home full of fine tales. -But where do you mean to go, and how will you pass your time?" - -"Oh," said I, "I go first to Rotterdam, where I may reside for a while. -Then I purpose to visit the college at Leyden, to study; for I would -fain spend some portion of my time profitably. After that I know not -what I will do, but be sure that I will be home within the two years. -For, though I am blithe to set out, I doubt not that I will be blither -to come back again." - -"I trust you may not learn in those far-away places to look down on -Tweeddale and the simple folks here. I doubt you may, John; for you are -not a steadfast man," and, at this, she laughed and I blushed, for I -thought of my conduct at Glasgow. - -"Nay, nay," I answered; "I love you all too well for that. Though the -Emperor of Cathay were to offer me all his treasure to bide away, I -would come back. I would rather be a shepherd in Tweeddale than a noble -in Spain." - -"Brave words, John," she cried, "brave words! See you hold to them." - -Then after that we fell to discussing Michael, and his ways of amusing -himself; and I bade Marjory tell her brother to look in now and then at -Barns to see how Tam Todd fared. Also I bade her tell him that it was -my wish that he should hunt and fish over my lands as much as he -pleased. "And see you keep him in order," I added, laughing, "lest he -slip off to the wars again." - -"Oh, John," she said, with a frightened look, "do not speak so. That is -what I fear above all things, for he is restless, even here, and must -ever be wandering from one place to another." - -"Tut, my dear," I said; "Michael, be sure, is too honest a man to leave -you again, when I am off, once I have left you in his care. Have no -fear for him. But we are getting as dull as owls, and it is many days -since I heard your voice. I pray you sing me a song, as you used to do -in the old days. 'Twill be long ere I hear another." - -She rose and went without a word to her harpsichord and struck a few -notes. Now Marjory had a most wonderful voice, more like a linnet's -than aught else, and she sang the old ballads very sweetly. But to-day -she took none of them, but a brisk martial song, which pleased me -marvellously well. I will set down the words as she sang them, for I -have hummed them many a time to myself: - - "Oh, if my love were sailor-bred - And fared afar from home, - In perilous lands, by shoal and sands, - If he were sworn to roam, - Then, O, I'd hie me to a ship, - And sail upon the sea, - And keep his side in wind and tide - To bear him company. - - "And if he were a soldier gay, - And tarried from the town, - And sought in wars, through death and scars, - To win for him renown, - I'd place his colours in my breast, - And ride by moor and lea, - And win his side, there to abide, - And bear him company. - - "For sooth a maid, all unafraid, - Should by her lover be, - With wile and art to cheer his heart, - And bear him company." - - -"A fine promise, Marjory," I cried, "and some day I may claim its -fulfilment. But who taught you the song?" - -"Who but the Travelling Packman, or, maybe, the Wandering Jew?" she -said, laughingly; and I knew this was the way of answer she used when -she would not tell me anything. So, to this day, I know not whence she -got the catch. - -Then we parted, not without tears on her part, and blank misgivings on -my own. For the vexed question came to disturb me, whether it was not -mere self-gratification on my part thus to travel, and whether my more -honourable place was not at home. But I banished the thoughts, for I -knew how futile they were, and comforted my brave lass as best I could. - -"Fare thee well, my love," I cried, as I mounted my horse, "and God -defend you till I come again"; and, whenever I looked back, till I had -passed the great avenue, I saw the glimmer of Marjory's dress, and felt -pricked in the conscience for leaving her. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - I RIDE OUT ON MY TRAVELS AND FIND A COMPANION - - -It was on a fine sharp morning, early in February, that I finally bade -good-bye to the folk at Barns and forded Tweed and rode out into the -world. There was a snell feel in the air which fired my blood, and made -me fit for anything which Providence might send. I was to ride Maisie -as far as Leith, where I was to leave her with a man at the -Harbour-Walk, who would send her back to Tweeddale; for I knew it would -be a hard thing to get passage for a horse in the small ships which -sailed between our land and the Low Countries at that time of year. - -At the Lyne Water ford, Michael Veitch was waiting for me. He waved his -hat cheerfully, and cried, "Good luck to you, John, and see that you -bide not too long away." I told him of a few things which I wished him -to see to, and then left him, riding up the little burn which comes down -between the Meldon hills, and whither lies the road to Eddleston Water. -When I was out of sight of him, I seemed to have left all my home behind -me, and I grew almost sorrowful. At the top of the ridge I halted and -looked back. There was Barns among its bare trees and frosted meadows, -with Tweed winding past, and beyond, a silvery glint of the Manor coming -down from its blue, cold hills. There was Scrape, with its long slopes -clad in firs, and the grey house of Dawyck nestling at its foot. I saw -the thin smoke curling up from the little village of Lyne, and Lyne Kirk -standing on its whin-covered brae, and the bonny holms of Lyne Water, -where I had often taken great baskets of trout. I must have stayed -there, gazing, for half an hour; and, whenever I looked on the brown -moors and woods, where I had wandered from boyhood, I felt sorrowful, -whether I would or no. - -"But away with such thoughts," I said, steeling my heart. "There's many -a fine thing awaiting me, and, after all, I will be back in a year or -two to the place and the folk that I love." So I went down to the -village of Eddleston whistling the "Cavalier's Rant," and firmly -shutting my mind against thoughts of home. I scarce delayed in -Eddleston, but pushed on up the valley, expecting to get dinner at the -inn at Leadburn, which stands at the watershed, just where the county of -Edinburgh touches our shire of Tweeddale. The way, which is a paradise -in summer, was rugged and cold at this season. The banks of the stream -were crusted with ice, and every now and then, as I passed, I raised a -string of wild duck, who fled noisily to the high wildernesses. - -I came to Leadburn about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, somewhat cold -in body, but brisk and comforted in spirit. I had Maisie stabled, and -myself went into the hostel and bade them get ready dinner. The inn is -the most villainous, bleak place that I have ever seen, and I who write -this have seen many. The rooms are damp and mouldy, and the -chimney-stacks threaten hourly to come down about the heads of the -inmates. It stands in the middle of a black peat-bog, which stretches -nigh to the Pentland Hills; and if there be a more forsaken countryside -on earth, I do not know it. The landlord, nevertheless, was an active, -civil man, not spoiled by his surroundings; and he fetched me an -excellent dinner--a brace of wild-fowl and a piece of salted beef, -washed down with very tolerable wine. - -I had just finished, and was resting a little before ordering my horse, -when the most discordant noise arose in the inn-yard; and, going to the -window, I beheld two great, strong serving-men pulling a collie by a -rope tied around the animal's neck. It was a fine, shaggy -black-and-white dog, and I know not what it could have done to merit -such treatment. But its captors had not an easy task, for it struggled -and thrawed at the rope, and snarled savagely, and every now and then -made desperate sallies upon the hinder-parts of its leaders. They -cursed it, not unnaturally, for an ill-conditioned whelp, and some of -the idlers, who are usually found about an inn, flung stones or beat it -with sticks from behind. Now I hate, above all things, to see a beast -suffer, no matter how it may have deserved it; so I had it in my mind to -go down and put a stop to the cruelty, when some one else came before -me. - -This was a very long, thin man, with a shock of black hair, and a -sunburnt face, attired in a disorder of different clothes--a fine, -though tarnished coat, stout, serviceable small-clothes, and the -coarsest of shoes and stockings. He darted forward like a hawk from a -corner of the yard, and, ere I could guess his intentions, had caught -the rope and let the dog go free. The beast ran howling to seek -shelter, and its preserver stood up to face the disappointed rascals. -They glared at him fiercely, and were on the point of rushing on him, -had not something in his demeanour deterred them. - -"Oh," said he, in a scornful voice, "ye're fine folk, you Leidburn folk. -Braw and kindly folk. Graund at hangin' dowgs and tormentin' dumb -beasts, but like a wheen skelpit puppies when ye see a man." - -"Ye meddlin' deevil," said one, "whae askit ye to come here? The dowg -was an ill, useless beast, and it was time it was hangit." - -"And what d'ye ca' yoursel?" said the stranger. "I ken ye fine, Tam -Tiddup, for a thievin', idle vaigabond, and if every useless beast was -hangit, there wadna be yin o' ye here." - -This made them grumble, and a stone was thrown, but still something in -the easy, dauntless air of their enemy kept them back. - -"But I'm no the man to let a dowg gang free wi'oot giein' some kind o' -return. Ye're a' brave men, dour warlike men, and I've nae doot unco -keen o' a fecht. Is there no some kind o' green bit hereaways whaur I -could hae a fling wi' yin o' ye? I'll try ye a' in turn, but no to mak -ill-feelin', I'll tak the biggest yin first. Will ye come, ye muckle -hash?" he said suddenly, addressing the tallest of the number. - -Now the man addressed had clearly no stomach for fight, but he was tall -and stout, and stood in fear of the ridicule of his companions, and -further, he doubtless thought that he would have an easy victory over -the lean stranger, so he accepted with as good a show of readiness as he -could muster. - -"Come on, ye flee-up-i'-the-air, and I'll see if I canna pit thae -fushionless airms o' yours oot o' joint." - -I heard them appoint a flat place beside the burn, just on the edge of -the bog, and watched them trooping out of the yard. The rabble went -first, with a great semblance of valour, and the brown-faced stranger, -with a sardonic grin on his countenance, stepped jauntily behind. Now I -dearly love a fight, but yet I scarce thought fit to go and look on with -the rest; so I had Maisie saddled, and rode after them, that I might -look like some chance passer-by stopping to witness the encounter. - -When I came up to the place, there were already some thirty men -collected. It was a green spot by the side of the Hawes burn, with the -frost not lifted from the grass; and in the burn itself the ice lay -thick, for it flows sluggishly like all bogland waters, The place was -beaten down as if folk were used to go there, and here the men made a -ring about their champion, some helping him to unbuckle his belt, some -giving advice about how to close with his adversary. The adversary -himself stood waiting their pleasure with the most unconcerned air, -whistling "The Green Holms o' Linton," and stamping his feet on the -ground to keep himself warm. - -In a little the two were ready, and stood facing each other on the cold -moor. A whistling wind came in short blasts from the hills, and made -their ears tingle, and mine also, till I wished that I were one of the -two to have some chance of warming my blood. But when once the fight -began, I thought little more of the cold. - -The countryman gripped the stranger round the middle and tugged -desperately to throw him. Up and down, backwards and forwards they -went, kicking up in their struggle pieces of turf and little stones. -Once they were all but in the water, but the stranger, seeing his peril, -made a bold leap back and dragged the other with him. And now I feared -that it was going to go hard with the succourer of distressed dogs; for -his unwieldy opponent was pressing so heavily upon him that I expected -every moment to see him go down. Once I caught sight of his face, and, -to my surprise, it was calm as ever; the very straw he had been chewing -before being still between his teeth. - -Now the fight took another turn; for my friend, by an adroit movement, -slipped below the other's arms, flung himself backwards, just as I have -seen a tumbler do at a fair at Peebles, and before the other knew his -design, stood smiling before him. The man's astonishment was so great -that he stood staring, and if the stranger had used his advantage, he -might have thrown him there and then. By and by he recovered and came -on, swearing and wrathful. "Ye've slippit awa' yince, ye ether, but -I'll see that ye'll no dae't again;" and with his sluggish blood roused -to some heat, he flung himself on his foe, who received him much as a -complacent maid receives the caresses of a traveller. The fellow -thought his victory certain, and put out all his strength; but now, of a -sudden, my friend woke up. He twisted his long arms round his -adversary, and a mighty struggle began. The great, fat-bellied man was -swaying to and fro like a basket on a pack-horse; his face grew purple -and pale at the lips, and his body grew limper and weaker. I expected -to see a good fight, but I was disappointed; for before I knew, they -were on the edge of the pool, tottered a second, and then, with a mighty -crunching and splashing, bounded through the thin ice into the frosty -water. - -A great brown face, with draggled, black hair, followed closely by a red -and round one, appeared above the surface, and two dripping human beings -dragged themselves to the bank. The teeth of both chattered like a -smith's shop, but in the mouth of one I espied a yellowish thing, sorely -bitten and crumbled. It was the piece of straw. A loud shout greeted -their appearance, and much laughter. The one slunk away with his -comrades, in no very high fettle, leaving the other shaking himself like -a water-dog on the grass. - -I found the stranger looking up at me, as I sat my horse, with a glance -half-quizzical and half-deprecatory. The water ran down his odd clothes -and formed in pools in the bare places of the ground. He shivered in -the cold wind, and removed little fragments of ice from his coat. Then -he spoke. - -"Ye'll be the Laird o' Barns settin' oot on your traivels?" - -"Good Lord! What do you know of my business?" I asked, and, as I looked -at him, I knew that I had seen the face before. Of a sudden he lifted -his arm to rub his eyebrows, and the motion brought back to me at once a -vision of excited players and a dry, parched land, and a man perplexedly -seeking to convince them of something; and I remembered him for the man -who had brought the news to Peebles of the rising of Tweed. - -"I know you," I said. "You are the man who came down with news of the -great flood. But what do you here?" - -"Bide a wee and I'll tell ye. Ye'll mind that ye tellt me if ever I was -in need o' onything, to come your way. Weel, I've been up Tweed, and -doun Tweed, and ower the hills, and up the hills, till there's nae mair -places left for me to gang. So I heard o' your gaun ower the seas, and -I took it into my heid that I wad like to gang tae. So here I am, at -your service." - -The fellow's boldness all but took my breath away. "What, in Heaven's -name, would I take you with me for?" I asked. "I doubt we would suit -each other ill." - -"Na, na, you and me wad gree fine. I've heard tell o' ye, Laird, though -ye've heard little o' me, and by a' accoonts we're just made for each -ither." - -Now if any other one had spoken to me in this tone I should have made -short work of him; but I was pleased with this man's conduct in the -affair just past, and, besides, I felt I owed something to my promise. - -"But," said I, "going to Holland is not like going to Peebles fair, and -who is to pay your passage, man?" - -"Oh," said he, "I maun e'en be your body-servant, so to speak." - -"I have little need of a body-servant. I am used to shifting for -myself. But to speak to the purpose, what use could you be to me?" - -"What use?" the man repeated. "Eh, sir, ye ken little o' Nicol -Plenderleith to talk that gait. A' the folk o' Brochtoun and Tweedsmuir, -and awa' ower by Clyde Water ken that there's no his match for rinnin' -and speelin' and shootin' wi' the musket; I'll find my way oot o' a hole -when a' body else 'ill bide in't. But fie on me to be blawin' my ain -trumpet at siccan a speed. But tak me wi' ye, and if I'm no a' I say, -ye can cry me for a gowk at the Cross o' Peebles." - -Now I know not what possessed me, who am usually of a sober, prudent -nature, to listen to this man; but something in his brown, eager face -held me captive, and his powerful make filled me with admiration. He was -honest and kindly; I had had good evidence of both; and his bravery was -beyond doubting. I thought how such a man might be of use to me in a -foreign land, both as company and protection. I had taken a liking to -the fellow, and, with our family, such likings go for much. -Nevertheless, I was almost surprised at myself when I said: - -"I like the look of you, Nicol Plenderleith, and am half-minded to take -you with me as my servant." - -"I thank ye kindly, Laird. I kenned ye wad dae't. I cam to meet ye -here wi' my best claes for that very reason." - -"You rascal," I cried, half laughing at his confidence, and half angry -at his audacity. "I've a good mind to leave you behind after all. You -talk as if you were master of all the countryside. But come along; we -will see if the landlord has not a more decent suit of clothes for your -back if you are going into my service. I will have no coughing, -catarrhy fellows about me." - -"Hech," muttered my attendant, following, "ye micht as weel expect a -heron to get the cauld frae wadin' in the water, as Nicol Plenderleith. -Howbeit, your will be done, sir." - -From the landlord at the inn I bought a suit of homespun clothes which, -by good fortune, fitted Nicol; and left his soaked garments as part -payment. Clad decently, he looked a great, stalwart man, though somewhat -bent in the back, and with a strange craning forward of the neck, -acquired, I think, from much wandering among hills. I hired a horse to -take him to Edinburgh, and the two of us rode out of the yard, followed -by the parting courtesies of the host. - -Of our journey to Edinburgh, I have little else to tell. We came to the -town in the afternoon, and went through the streets to the port of -Leith, after leaving our horses at the place arranged for. I was -grieved to part from Maisie, for I had ridden her from boyhood, and she -had come to know my ways wondrous well. We found a vessel to sail the -next morn for Rotterdam, and bargained with the captain for our passage. -When all had been settled, and we had looked our fill upon the harbour -and the craft, and felt the salt of the sea on our lips, we betook -ourselves to an inn, _The Three Herrings_, which fronted the quay, and -there abode for the night. - - - - - BOOK II--THE LOW COUNTRIES - - - - CHAPTER I - - OF MY VOYAGE TO THE LOW COUNTRIES - - -We were aboard on the next morning by a little after daybreak, for the -captain had forewarned me, the night before, that he purposed to catch -the morning tide. To one inland-bred, the harbour of Leith was a sight -to whet the curiosity, There were vessels of all kinds and sizes, -little fishing smacks with brown, home-made sails, from Fife or the -Lothian coast towns, great sea-going ships, many with strange, foreign -names on their sides, and full of a great bustle of lading and unlading. -There was such a concourse of men, too, as made the place like a -continuous horse-fair. Half a dozen different tongues jabbered in my -ear, of which I knew not one word, save of the French, which I could -make a fair shape to speak, having learned it from Tam Todd, along with -much else of good and bad. There were men in red cowls like Ayrshire -weavers, and men in fur hats from the North, and dark-skinned fellows, -too, from the Indies, and all this motley crew would be running up and -down jabbering and shrilling like a pack of hounds. And every now and -then across the uproar would come the deep voice of a Scots skipper, -swearing and hectoring as if the world and all that is in it were his -peculiar possession. - -But when we had cleared the Roads of Leith and were making fair way down -the firth, with a good north-westerly breeze behind us, then there was a -sight worth the seeing. For behind lay Leith, with its black masts and -tall houses, and at the back again, Edinburgh, with its castle looming -up grim and solemn, and further still, the Pentlands, ridged like a saw, -running far to the westward. In front I marked the low shore of Fife, -with the twin Lomonds, which you can see by climbing Caerdon, or Dollar -Law, or any one of the high Tweedside hills. The channel was as blue as -a summer sky, with a wintry clearness and a swell which was scarce great -enough to break into billows. The Kern, for so the vessel was called, -had all her sail set, and bounded gallantly on her way. It was a -cheerful sight, what with the sails filling to the wind, and men passing -hither and thither at work with the cordage, and the running seas -keeping pace with the vessel. The morning fires were being lit in the -little villages of Fife, and I could see the smoke curling upwards in a -haze from every bay and neuk. - -But soon the firth was behind us, and we passed between the Bass rock -and the May, out into the open sea. This I scarcely found so much to my -liking. I was inland-bred, and somewhat delicate in my senses, so, soon -I came to loathe the odour of fish and cookery and sea-water, which was -everywhere in the vessel. Then the breeze increased to a stiff wind, -and the Kern leaped and rocked among great rolling billows. At first -the movement was almost pleasing, being like the motion of a horse's -gallop in a smooth field. And this leads me to think that if a boat -were but small enough, so as to be more proportionate to the body of -man, the rocking of it would be as pleasing as the rise and fall of a -horse's stride. But in a great, cumbrous ship, where man is but a -little creature, it soon grows wearisome. We stood well out to sea, so -I could but mark the bolder features of the land. Even these I soon -lost sight of, for the whole earth and air began to dance wofully before -my eyes. I felt a dreadful sinking, and a cold sweat began to break on -my brow. I had heard of the sea-sickness, but I could not believe that -it was this. This was something ten times worse, some deadly plague -which Heaven had sent to stay me on my wanderings. - -I leaned over the side of the ship in a very disconsolate frame of mind. -If this was all I was to get on my journey, I had better have stayed at -home. I was landward-bred, and knew naught of boats, save one which Tam -Todd had made as a ferry across the Tweed, and which was indeed more -like a meal-chest than aught else. In it we were wont to paddle across -when we were fearful of wetting our shoon. But this rolling, boisterous -ship and turgid seas were strange to me, and I fear I fell monstrous -sick. - -Nicol Plenderleith had disappeared almost as soon as he came aboard, and -I saw him deep in converse with the sailors. When we had cleared the -Forth he came back to me, as I leaned disconsolately against the -bulwarks, and asked me how I did. His lean, brown face was not a whit -changed by the rocking of the ship; indeed, if he had been astraddle the -Saddleback in a gale he would not have been perturbed. When he saw my -plight he ran below and brought brandy. - -"Here, sir, tak some o' this. It's tasty at a' times, but it's mair -than tasty the noo, it's halesome." - -"Nicol," I groaned, "if I never gee home again, I look to you to tell -the folk in Tweeddale. It's terrible to die here of this villainous -sickness, for I shall certainly die if it continues. Will it never -cease?" - -"I've been speirin' at the captain and by a' accounts we're no at the -warst o't. He says it's juist like the backs o' Leith. If ye win by -the Fisherraw ye'll meet your death i' the Kettle Wynd, and, if by any -chance ye're no killed there, ye'll be dune for i' the Walk. He was -speaking o' the stinks o' the place and no the folk, for they're -peaceable eneuch, puir bodies. 'Weel,' says he, 'it's the same here. -It's ill for some folk to win by the Forth, but it's waur i' the open -sea, and when it comes to the Dutch waters, it's fair awfu'.' I wis, -Laird, ye maunna dee." - -This was poor consolation, and had I not formed some guess of my -servant's manners, I should have been downhearted enough; but there was -a roguish twinkle in his eye, and, even as he spoke, his mouth broadened -to a grin. I heard him humming the lines of an old ditty which I -supposed to have some reference to my state: - - Tam o' the Linn and a' his bairns - Fell into the fire in ilk ither's airms. - "Eh," quoth the binmost, "I have a het skin." - "It's hetter below," quo' Tam o' the Linn. - - -But, sure enough, the captain's prophecy did not come true. For in a -little the waves grew calmer, and my sickness left me. 'Tis true that -soon we entered troubled waters once more, but I was fortified with -experience, and some measure of brandy, and so could laugh defiance at -the powers of the sea. - -The wind throughout our course was fair in our favour, so we made the -journey in shorter time than I had dared to hope for. On the morning of -the third day a dense mist shut us in so that the captain was much -confused and angered. But on the wind's rising, the fog rolled back, -and we went on our way once more. Early in the afternoon we sighted the -mouth of the Maas, and the tall lines of shipping which told of the -entrance to Rotterdam. You may imagine that all this was very strange -to me, I who had lived only among hills and rough woods, and had seen -the sea but once, and that afar off. 'Twas a perpetual wonder to me to -see the great sails moved up and down according to the airt of the wind, -and the little helm guiding the great ship. As I have said, I soon got -over all sickness, and was as hale as ever, so that on the last two days -of the voyage I ever look back as upon a time of great pleasure. - -But if my wonder was great in the open seas, 'twas still greater once we -had entered the Dutch river. It was all so unlike my own land that the -home-sickness which travellers tell of had almost taken hold of me. -There were all manner of ships--some little coasting vessels, others, -huge merchantmen which brought home the wares of the Indies and the -Americas. There was such a jabbering, too, in Dutch, of which tongue I -knew naught, that I longed to hear one good, intelligible word of Scots, -for which cause I kept my servant near me. By and by we neared the -quay, and saw the merchants' great red storehouses standing in long -line, and the streets of the city running back from the river. Here we -came to an anchor. Our journey was over, and I had to bid farewell to -captain and vessel and go ashore. - -It is not to be expected that I should seek to describe what is known to -nigh everyone in these days when a man thinks nothing of crossing to -France or Holland on any pretext or in any weather. From such, -therefore, by word of mouth let he who desires it seek information; for -myself, I have enough to do to write down the main acts of my life. - -One thing I noted--that the air was somewhat soft and damp, lacking, to -my mind, the acrid strength of the air of Tweeddale, or even of the -Lothians. But all the streets were clean swept and orderly; the folk -well-groomed and well-looking; and the trees by the riverside gave a -pleasant surprise to one accustomed to the grim, grey, narrow streets of -the North. I made my way by the help of an inquisitive Scots tongue and -the French language to a decent hostelry in the Grooce Markt just -opposite the statue (but lately erected) of the great Erasmus. This -pleased me much, for to be near even the poor bronze figure of so great -a man seemed to lend to the place an air of learning. I employed myself -profitably in reading the Latin inscriptions; the others I could make no -more of than the rudest ploughboy in Scotland. - -Both Nicol and I were up betimes in the morning, that we might get the -coach for Leyden, which started almost from the door of our inn. I -solemnly set down my testimony that the ale in that same house is the -most villainous in the world, for it made us both dismal and oppressed, -a trouble which did not leave us till we had taken our seats in the -diligence and the horses were starting. - -Of the events of that day's journey how shall I tell? Leyden is a day's -length from Rotterdam to the north, through a land flat as a -girdle-cake. The horses were lumbering, sleepy brutes, and the driver -scarce any better, for every now and again he would let them come to the -walk for long distances, and then, suddenly awaking to the fact that he -must get to his destination before night, get up and shout wildly, and -feebly flick their backs with his whip. I had much ado to keep Nicol -from trying to take the reins from his hands, and, certainly, if that -firebrand had once taken them, we should have awakened the quiet -countryside, and, God helping us, might even have awakened the driver. -I knew nothing of the country, and heard but vaguely the names shouted -out by the guard of the coach; yet, somehow or other, the name of -Ryswick clung to my memory, and I remembered it well when, long after, -at that place the treaty was signed which closed the war. But at that -time the great duke was plain Master Churchill, and there was no thought -of war between our land and France. The place was so new to my eyes -that I rebelled against its persistent flatness and dull, dead -water-courses; but soon I came to acknowledge a kind of prettiness in -it, though 'twas of a kind far removed from the wild loveliness of -Tweedside. The well-ordered strips of trees, the poplars like sentinels -around the homesteads, the red-roofed homesteads themselves, with their -ricks and stables, had a homely and habitable look, and such of the folk -as we saw by the roadside were as sleek and stolid as their land. I -could not think of the place as a nursery of high and heroical virtues, -but rather of the minor moralities of good-sense and good-nature. - -It was late in the afternoon when we came to Leyden, and rattled down -the rough street to the market-place, which was the stopping-place of -the coach. This was a town more comely and conformable to my eye than -the greater city of Rotterdam. For here the streets were not so even, -the houses not so trim, and the whole showing a greater semblance of -age. There were many streams and canals crossed by broad, low bridges. -It was a time of great mildness, for the season of the year. The place -had all that air of battered age and historic worth which I have -observed in our own city of Edinburgh. Even as I looked on it my mind -was full of memories of that terrible siege, when the folk of Leyden -held out so stoutly against the black Spaniards, till their king -overthrew the dykes and saved the town by flooding the land. - -It was my first concern to secure lodgings, since I purposed to spend no -little portion of my time here for the next two years; and, as I had -been directed by my kinsman, Dr. Gilbert Burnet, I sought the house of -one Cornelius Vanderdecker, who abode in a little alley off the -Breedestraat. Arrived there, I found that the said Cornelius had been -in a better world for some fifteen months, but that his widow, a -tranquil Dutchwoman, with a temper as long as a Dutch canal, was most -willing to lodge me and treat me to the best which the house could -afford. We speedily made a bargain in bad French, and Nicol and I were -installed in rooms in the back part of the house, overlooking a long -garden, which ended in one of the streams of water which I have spoken -of. It was somewhat desolate at that time, but I could see that in -summer, when the straight trees were in leaf, the trim flower-beds and -the close-cropped lawn would make the place exceeding pretty. I was -glad of it, for I am country-bred and dearly do I love greenery and the -sight of flowers. - -I delayed till the next morning, when I had got the soil of travel from -my clothes and myself once more into some semblance of sprightliness, -ere I went to the college to present my letters and begin my schooling. -So after the morning meal, I attired myself in befitting dress and put -Nicol into raiment suiting his rank and company; and set out with a -light heart to that great and imposing institution, which has been the -star of Europe in philosophy and all other matters of learning. I own -that it was with feelings of some trepidation that I approached the -place. Here had dwelt Grotius and Salmasius and the incomparable -Scaliger. Here they had studied and written their immortal books; the -very place was still redolent of their memories. Here, too, unless my -memory deceived me, had dwelt the Frenchman, Renatus Descartes, who had -first opened a way for me from the chaos of the schoolmen to the -rectitude of true philosophy. I scarcely dared to enroll my unworthy -name in the halls of such illustrious spirits. But I thought on my name -and race, and plucked up heart thereupon to knock stoutly at the gates. -A short, stout man opened to me, clad in a porter's gown, not unlike the -bedellus in the far-away college of Glasgow, but carrying in his hand a -black staff, and at his belt a large bunch of keys. It came upon me to -address him in French, but remembering that this was a place of -learning, I concluded that Latin was the more fitting tongue, so in -Latin I spoke. - -"I am a stranger," I said, "from Scotland, bearing letters for Master -Sandvoort and Master Quellinus of this place. I pray you to see if they -can grant me an audience." - -He faced round sharply, as if this were the most ordinary errand in his -life, and went limping across the inner courtyard till he disappeared -from view behind a massive column. He returned shortly and delivered -his message in a very tolerable imitation of the language of Caesar. - -"Their worships, Master Sandvoort and Master Quellinus, are free from -business for the present, and will see you in their chambers." So -bidding Nicol stay in the courtyard, lest he should shame me before -these grave seniors (though 'twas unlikely enough, seeing they knew no -Scots), I followed the hobbling porter through the broad quadrangle, up -a long staircase adorned with many statues set in niches in the wall, to -a landing whence opened many doors. At one of them my guide knocked -softly, and a harsh voice bade us enter. "This is Master Sandvoort," he -whispered in my ear, "and I trust he be not in one of his tantrums. See -ye speak him fair, sir." - -I found myself in a high-panelled room, filled with books, and with a -table in front of a fireplace, whereat a man sat writing. He wore a -skullcap of purple velvet, and the ordinary black gown of the doctor. -His face was thin and hard, with lines across the brow and the heaviness -below the eye which all have who study overmuch. His hair was turning -to grey, but his short, pointed beard was still black. He had very -shaggy eyebrows, under which his sharp eyes shone like the points of a -needle. Such was Master Herman Sandvoort, professor of the Latin -language in the ancient college of Leyden. - -His first question to me was in the Latin. - -"What tongue do you speak?" - -I answered that I was conversant with the English, the French, and the -Latin. - -"Your letters, pray," he asked in French, and I took them from my pocket -and gave them to him. - -"Ah," he cried, reading aloud, "you desire to study in this university, -and improve your acquaintance with certain branches of letters and -philosophy. So be it. My fee is five crowns for attendance at my -lectures. I will not abate one tittle of it. I will have no more poor -students come cringing and begging to be let off with two. So -understand my terms, Master Burnette." - -I was both angry and surprised. Who was this man to address me thus? - -"I pray you to finish the letter," I said curtly. - -He read on for a little while, then he lifted his head and looked at me -with so comical an expression that I had almost laughed. Before, his -face had been greedy and cold; now it was worse, for the greed was still -there, but the coldness had vanished and left in its place a sickly look -of servility. - -"Pardon me, pardon me, good Master Burnette; I was in a great mistake. -I had thought that you were some commoner from the North, and, God -knows, we have plenty of them. I pray you forget my words. The college -is most honoured by your presence, the nephew, or is it the son, of the -famous Doctor Burnette. Ah, where were my eyes--the lord of much land, -so says the letter, in the valley of the Tweed. Be sure, sir, that you -can command all the poor learning that I have at my disposal. And if -you have not already found lodging, why if you will come to my house, my -wife and daughters will welcome you." - -I thanked him coldly for his invitation, but refused it on the ground -that I had already found an abode. Indeed, I had no wish to form the -acquaintance of Vrow Sandvoort and her estimable daughters. He gave me -much information about the hours of the lectures, the subjects which he -proposed to treat of, and the method of treatment; nor would he let me -depart before I had promised to dine at his house. - -Outside the door I found the porter waiting for me. He led me across -the hall to another door, the room of Master Quellinus, the professor of -Greek. - -Here I found a different reception. A rosy-cheeked little man, with a -paunch as great as a well-fed ox, was sitting on a high chair, so that -his feet barely touched the ground. He was whistling some ditty, and -busily mending his finger-nails with a little knife. - -"Why, whom have we here?" he cries out, when he saw me; "another -scholar, and a great one. Why, man, what do you at the trade, when you -might be carrying a musket or leading a troop of pikemen?" - -I was tempted to answer him in his own way. - -"And what do you," I asked, "at the trade, when you might be the chief -cook to the French king, with power to poison the whole nobility?" - -He laughed long and loudly. "Ah, you have me there, more's the pity. -But what though I love my dinner? Did not Jacob the patriarch, and -Esau, the mighty Esau, though I have little credit by the ensample? But -come, tell me your name, for I begin to love thee. You have a shrewd -wit, and a pleasing presence. You may go far." - -I gave him my letters, and when he had read them, he came down from his -perch and shook me by the hand. - -"You are a Scot," he said. "I never knew any Scot but one, and he was -hanged on a tree for robbing the Burgomaster's coach. I was a lad at -school, and I mind me 'twas rare sport. So I have a kindly feeling for -your nation, though may God send you a better fate than that one. But -what do you seek to learn? Greek? Faugh, there is no Greek worth a -straw, save Anacreon, and he is not a patch upon our moderns, on -Francois Villon of Paris, whose soul God rest, and our brave Desportes. -Philosophy? Bah! 'Tis all a monstrous fraud. I have sounded all the -depths of it, and found them but shallows. Theology? Tush! You will -learn more theology in an inn in the Morschstraat than in all the -schools. Such are my beliefs. But God has compelled me for my sins to -teach the Hellenic tongue to a perverse generation at the small sum of -five crowns. We study the Republic of Plato, and I trust you may find -some profit. You will dine with me. Nay, I will take no denial. -To-night, in my house, I will show you how a quail should be dressed. I -have the very devil of a cook, a man who could dress a dry goatskin to -your taste. And wine! I have the best that ever came from the -Rhineside and escaped the maw of a swinish Teuton. You will come?" - -I could only escape by promising, which I did with a good grace, for if -there was little profit in Master Quellinus's company, there was much -pleasure. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - I VISIT MASTER PETER WISHART - - -The life at the college of Leyden was the most curious that one could -well conceive; yet ere I had been there a week, I had begun heartily to -like it. The students were drawn from the four corners of Europe: -Swedes, great men with shaggy beards and invincible courage; neat-coated -Germans, Dutchmen by the score, and not a few Frenchmen, who were the -dandies of the place. We all gathered of a morning in the dusky -lecture-hall, where hung the portraits of the great scholars of the -past, and where in the cobwebbed rafters there abode such a weight of -dust that a breeze coming through the high windows would stir it and -make the place all but dark. Nor had I fault to find with the worthy -professors, for I found soon that Master Sandvoort, though a miserly -churl, had vast store of Latin, and would expound the works of Cornelius -Tacitus in a fashion which I could not sufficiently admire. His -colleague, too, who was the best of good fellows in the seclusion of his -house, in his lecture-room was dignified and severe in deportment. You -never saw such a change in a man. I went on the first morning expecting -to find little but buffoonery; and lo! to my surprise, in walks my -gentleman in a stately gown, holding his head like an archduke's; and -when he began to speak, it was with the gravest accents of precision. -And I roundly affirm that no man ever made more good matter come out of -Plato. He would show wherein he erred and wherein he was wiser than -those who sought to refute him; he would weigh with the nicest judgment -the _variae lectiones_ on each passage; and he would illustrate all -things with the choicest citations. In truth, I got a great wealth of -good scholarship and sound philosophy from my squire of bottle and -pasty. - -I was not the only Scot in Leyden, as I soon discovered; for forbye that -I had letters to Master Peter Wishart, who taught philosophy in the -college, there abode in the town Sir James Dalrymple, afterwards my Lord -Stair, the great lawyer, and sometime a professor in my old college, -whose nephew I had so cruelly beaten before I bade farewell to Glasgow. -He was a man of a grave deportment, somewhat bent with study, and with -the look of exceeding weight on his face which comes to one who has -shared the counsel of princes. There were also not a few Scots lords of -lesser fame and lesser fortune, pensioners, many of them, on a foreign -king, exiles from home for good and evil causes. As one went down the -Breedestraat of a morning he could hear much broad Scots spoke on the -causeway, and find many fellow-countrymen in a state ill-befitting their -rank. For poverty was ever the curse of our nation, and I found it -bitter to see ignoble Flemings and Dutch burghers flaunting in their -finery, while our poor gentlemen were threadbare. And these folk, too, -were the noblest in the land, bearing the proudest names, descendants of -warriors and statesmen--Halketts of Pitfirran, Prestons of Gorton, -Stewarts, Hays, Sinclairs, Douglases, Hamiltons, and Grahams. It was -their fathers and grandfathers who had won the day at Rijnemants, under -Sir Robert Stuart, when, says Strada, "Nudi pugnant Scoti multi." They -had fought to the death on the Kowenstyn dyke when Parma beleaguered -Antwerp. And in all the later wars they took their share--Scotts of -Buccleuch, Haigs of Bemersyde, Erskines, Grants, and Kilpatricks. In -the Scots brigade in Holland had served John Graham of Claverhouse, as -some will have it, the greatest soldier of our age. I saw nothing of -him, for while I was in the Low Lands he was already riding in the -western hills, shooting and hanging and dealing martial law to herds and -weavers. But I saw often the gallant figure of that Colonel Hugh Mackay -who met Claverhouse in that last and awful fight in the Highland pass -when the mountaineers swept on the lowlanders like a winter storm, and -who marched to his death long after on the field of Steinkirk, and fell -with the words on his lips, "The will of the Lord be done." This -valiant soldier had made the Scots brigade into some semblance of that -doughty regiment which Lord Reay commanded under the great Gustavus. He -had driven out all the foreign admixture, and, by keeping it to Scotsmen -of gentle blood, rendered it well-nigh invincible. But the pay was -poor, and they who entered it did so for the sake of honour and for no -notions of gain. - -But though it cheers me yet to tell of such fellows, and though it -pleased me vastly to meet them in that distant land, it is not of such -that I must write. As I have said, forbye attending the two classes of -Greek and Latin, I resorted to the lectures of Master Wishart, who -hailed from Fife, and had taught philosophy with much success among the -Hollanders for some twenty years. He was well acquainted with my -family, so what does he do but bid me to his house at Alphen one -Saturday in the front of March. For he did not abide in Leyden, never -having loved the ways of a town, but in the little village of Alphen, -some seven miles to the northeast. - -I accepted his bidding, for I had come there for no other cause than to -meet and converse with men of learning and wisdom; so I bade Nicol have -ready the two horses, which I had bought, at eleven o'clock in the -forenoon. One of the twain was a bay mare, delicately stepping, with -white pasterns and a patch of white on her forehead. The other was the -heavier, reserved for Nicol and what baggage I might seek to carry, -black and deep-chested, and more sedate than his comrade. - -It was a clear, mild day when we set out, with no trace of frost, and -but little cold. The roads were dry underfoot, and the horses stepped -merrily, for they were fresh from long living indoors. The fields on -either side were still bleak, but the sowers were abroad, scattering the -seeds of the future harvest. The waters that we passed were alive with -wild-fowl, which had wintered in the sea-marshes, and were now coming up -to breed among the flags and rushes of the inland lakes. The tender -green was sprouting on the trees, the early lark sang above the furrows, -and the whole earth was full of the earnest of spring. - -Alphen is a straggling line of houses by a canal. They are all well -sized, and even with some pretension to gentility, with long gardens -sloping to the water, and shady coverts of trees. Master Wishart's -stood in the extreme end, apart from the rest, low-built, with a doorway -with stuccoed pilasters. It was a place very pleasant to look upon, and -save for its flatness, I could have found it in my heart to choose it -for a habitation. But I am hill-bred, and must have rough, craggy land -near me, else I weary of the finest dwelling. Master Wishart dwelt -here, since he had ever a passion for the growing of rare flowers, and -could indulge it better here than in the town of Leyden. He was used to -drive in every second day in his great coach, for he lectured but three -times a week. - -A serving-man took my horse from me, and, along with Nicol, led them to -the stable, having directed me where, in the garden, I should find my -host. I opened a gate in a quickset hedge, and entered upon the most -beautiful pleasure-ground that I had ever beheld. A wide, well-ordered -lawn stretched straitly down to the very brink of the canal, and though, -as was natural at that season of the year, the grass had not come to its -proper greenness, yet it gave promise of great smoothness and verdure. -To the side of this, again, there ran a belt of low wood, between which -and the house was a green all laid out into flower beds, bright even at -that early time with hyacinths and jonquils. Below this the low wood -began again, and continued to the borders of the garden, full of the -most delightsome alleys and shady walks. From one of these I heard -voices, and going in that direction, I came of a sudden to a handsome -arbour, at the side of which flowered the winter-jasmine, and around the -door of which, so mild was the day, some half-dozen men were sitting. - -My host, Master Wishart, was a short, spare man, with a long face -adorned with a well-trimmed beard. He had the most monstrous heavy brows -that I have ever seen, greater even than those of our Master Sandeman, -of whom the students were wont to say that his eyebrows were -heather-besoms. His eyes twinkled merrily when he spoke, and but for -his great forehead no one might have guessed that he stood in the -presence of one of the most noted of our schoolmen. - -He rose and greeted me heartily, bidding me all welcome to Alphen, -saying that he loved to see the sight of a Scots face, for was he not an -exile here like the Jews by the waters of Babylon? "This is Master John -Burnet of Barns," said he, presenting me to a very grave and comely man -some ten years my senior, "who has come all the way from Tweedside to -drink at our Pierian Spring." The other greeted me, looked kindly at me -for a second, and then asked me some question of my family; and finding -that a second cousin of his own on his mother's side had once married -one of my race, immediately became very gracious, and condescended to -tell me his opinions of the land, which were none so good. He was, as I -did not know till later, Sir William Crichtoun of Bourhope; that Sir -William who in after times was slain in the rout at Cromdale when the -forces of Buchan and Cannon were caught unawares on the hillside. - -I had leisure now to look around me at the others, and a motley group -they were. There was Quentin Markelboch, the famous physician of -Leyden, who had been pointed out to me in the street some days before, a -little, round-bellied man with an eye of wondrous shrewdness. There was -likewise Master Jardinius, who had lectured on philosophy at one time in -the college, but had now grown too old for aught save sitting in the sun -and drinking Schiedam--which, as some said, was no great pity. But the -one I most marked was a little, fiery-eyed, nervous man, Pieter van -Mieris by name, own cousin to the painter, and one who lived for nothing -else than to fight abstruse metaphysical quarrels in defence of -religion, which he believed to be in great peril from men of learning, -and, but for his exertions on its behalf, to be unable to exist. It was -he who first addressed me. - -"I have heard that the true religion is wondrous pure in your land, -Master Burnet, and that men yet worship God in simple fashion, and -believe in Him without subtleties. Is that so, may I beg of you to tell -me?" - -"Ay," I answered, "doubtless they do, when they worship Him at all." - -"Then the most pernicious heresy of the pervert Arminius has not yet -penetrated to your shores, I trust, nor Pelagianism, which, of old, was -the devil's wile for simple souls?" - -"I have never heard of their names," I answered bluntly. "We folk in -Scotland keep to our own ways, and like little to import aught foreign, -be it heresy or strong ale." - -"Then," said my inquisitor triumphantly, "you are not yet tainted with -that most vile and pernicious heresy of all, with which one Baruch -Spinoza, of accursed memory, has tainted this land?" - -I roused myself at the name, for this was one I had heard often within -the past few weeks, and I had a great desire to find out for myself the -truth of his philosophy. - -"I am ashamed to confess," I said, "that I have read none of his -writings, that I scarcely know his name. But I would be enlightened in -the matter." - -"Far be it from me," said the little man earnestly, "to corrupt the -heart of any man with so pernicious a doctrine. Rather close thy cars, -young man, when you hear anyone speak his name, and pray to God to keep -you from danger. 'Tis the falsest admixture of the Jewish heresy with -the scum of ancient philosophy, the vain imaginings of man stirred up by -the Evil One. The man who made it is dead, and gone to his account, but -I would that the worthy magistrates had seen fit to gibbet him for a -warning to all the fickle and light-minded. Faugh, I cannot bear to -pollute my mouth with his name." - -And here a new voice spoke. - -"The man of whom you speak was so great that little minds are unable to -comprehend him. He is dead, and has doubtless long since learned the -truth which he sought so earnestly in life. I am a stranger, and I -little thought to hear any Hollander speak ill of Baruch Spinoza, for -though God, in his mercy, has given many good gifts to this land, He has -never given a greater than him. I am no follower of his, as they who -know me will bear witness, but I firmly believe that when men have grown -wiser and see more clearly, his name will shine as one of the lights of -our time, brighter, may be, even than the great Cartesius." - -The speaker was but newly come, and had been talking with my host when -he heard the declamation of Master van Mieris. I turned to look at him -and found a tall, comely man, delicately featured, but with a chin as -grim as a marshal's. He stood amid the crowd of us with such an easy -carriage of dignity and breeding that one and all looked at him in -admiration. His broad, high brow was marked with many lines, as if he -had schemed and meditated much. He was dressed in the pink of the -fashion, and in his gestures and tones I fancied I discerned something -courtier-like, as of a man who had travelled and seen much of courts and -kingships. He spoke so modestly, and withal so wisely, that the unhappy -Pieter looked wofully crestfallen, and would not utter another word. - -A minute later, finding Master Wishart at hand, I plucked him by the -sleeve. - -"Tell me, who is that man there, the one who spoke?" - -"Ah," said he, "you do not know him, perhaps you do not know his name; -but be sure that when you are old you will look back upon this day with -pleasure, and thank Providence for bringing you within sight of such a -man. That is the great Gottfried Leibnitz, who has been dwelling for a -short space in London, and now goes to Hanover as Duke Frederick's -councillor." - -But just at this moment all thoughts of philosophy and philosophers were -banished from my mind by the sudden arrival of a new guest. This was no -other than the worthy professor of Greek, Master Quellinus, who came in -arrayed in the coarsest clothes, with a gigantic basket suspended over -his shoulders by a strap, and a rod like a weaver's beam in his hand. In -truth the little man presented a curious sight. For the great rod would -not stay balanced on his shoulders, but must ever slip upward and -seriously endanger the equipoise of its owner. His boots were very wide -and splashed with mud, and round the broad-brimmed hat which he wore I -discerned many lengths of horsehair. My heart warmed to the man, for I -perceived he was a fellow-fisherman, and, in that strange place, it was -the next best thing to being a fellow Scot. - -He greeted us with great joviality. "A good day to you, my masters," he -cried; "and God send you the ease which you love. Here have I been -bearing the heat and burden of the day, all in order that lazy folk -should have carp to eat when they wish it. Gad, I am tired and wet and -dirty, this last beyond expression. For Heaven's sake, Master Wishart, -take me where I may clean myself." - -The host led the fisherman away, and soon he returned, spruce and -smiling once more. He sat down heavily on a seat beside me. "Now, -Master Burnet," says he, "you must not think it unworthy of a learned -Grecian to follow the sport of the angle, for did not the most famous of -their writers praise it, not to speak of the example of the Apostles?" - -I tried hard to think if this were true. - -"Homer, at any rate," I urged, "had no great opinion of fish and their -catchers, though that was the worse for Homer, for I am an angler -myself, and can understand your likings." - -"Then I will have your hand on it," said he, "and may Homer go to the -devil. But Theocritus and Oppian, ay, even Plato, mention it without -disrespect, and does not Horace himself say 'Piscemur'? Surely we have -authority." - -But this was all the taste I had of my preceptor's conversation, for he -had been walking all day in miry ways, and his limbs were tired: nor was -I surprised to see his head soon sink forward on his breast; and in a -trice he was sleeping the sleep of the just and labouring man. - -And now we were joined by a newcomer, no less than Mistress Kate -Wishart, as pretty a lass as you will see in a day's journey. She had -been nurtured by her father amid an aroma of learning, and, truly, for a -maid, she was wondrous learned, and would dispute and cite instances -with a fine grace and a skill which astonished all. To me, who am -country-bred and a trifle over-fastidious, she seemed a thought pedantic -and proud of her knowledge; but what is hateful in a hard-featured woman -is to be pardoned in a fresh lass. Her father brought me to her and -presented me, which she acknowledged with a courtsey which became her -mightily; but I spoke not two words to her, for the old man led me away -down one of the alleys among the trees. - -"Kate'll look after thae auld dotterels," said he, speaking in the -broadest Scots; "I brocht her out that I micht get a word wi' ye my -lane, for I'm fair deein' for news frae the auld country. First of a', -how is Saunders Blackett at Peebles? Him and me were aince weel -acquant." And when I had told him, he ran off into a string of -inquiries about many folk whom I knew, and whom he once had known, which -I answered according to my ability. - -"And now," he says, "I've bidden twa-three o' the officers o' the Scots -brigade to supper the nicht, so ye'll see some guid Scots physiogs after -thae fosy Dutchmen. Ye'll maybe ken some o' them." - -I thanked him for his consideration, and after I had answered his many -questions, we returned to the others, whom I found busily arguing some -point in divinity, with Mistress Kate very disgusted in their midst. - -"Gang intil the house wi' my dochter, John," said Master Wishart, and, -giving her my arm, I did as I was bid, while the others straggled after -in twos and threes. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - THE STORY OF A SUPPER PARTY - - -My first thought on entering the supper-room was one of amazement. The -owner of the house, whom I had taken to be a man of simple tastes, here -proved himself to be a very Caliph for magnificence. Many choice -paintings looked down at us from the sides, richly framed, and fitting -into recesses in the panelled walls. The floor was laid with -bright-dyed rugs and carpets of Venetian stuff, and the chairs and -couches were of finely carven wood. The whole was lit with a long line -of waxen candles in silver sconces, which disputed the sovereignty with -the departing daylight. But the choicest sight was the table which was -laden, nay heaped, with rich dishes and rare meats, while in the glass -and metal flagons the wine danced and flamed. I was of country-bred -habits, and the display at first all but took the breath from me; indeed -it was not a little time ere I could take my eyes from it and turn them -on the assembled guests. - -Those who had not been present in the garden were gathered at the lower -end of the room, whither the master of the place betook himself to greet -them. I marked two or three of the burgher folk by their dress and -well-filled bellies, contrasting strangely with the lean figure of a -minister who stood among them clothed in some decent, dark stuff, and -wearing white bands ostentatiously. There were also some of the -officers in the Scots regiment, at least of that portion of it which was -then lying at Leyden. Their dress was sober compared with the richness -of such soldiery as I had seen in my own land, but against the attire of -the citizens, it was gaudiness itself. - -I found myself sitting close to the head of the table, on the right hand -of my host, betwixt a portly doctor of laws and my worthy Master -Quellinus. This latter was now all but recovered from his fatigue, -having slept soundly in the arbour. He was in a high good humour at the -sight of the many varied dishes before him, and cried out their merits -to me in a loud, excited tone, which made my cheeks burn. "There," he -cried, "there is the dish I love above all others. 'Tis hashed venison -with young herbs, and sour wine for a relish. Ah, I have already -enjoyed it in anticipation. In a few seconds I shall have enjoyed it in -reality. Therefore I argue I have gained two pleasures from it, whereas -men of no imagination have but one. And, God bless my eyes! do I see a -plate of stewed eels over there before that thick man in the brown coat? -Gad! I fear he will devour them all himself, for he looks to have -capacity and judgment. Plague take him, I am in a very torment of -anxiety. Prithee, my good John, seek out a servant and bid him bring it -over here." I know not how far he might have gone, had not all talking -been put an end to by the minister arising and saying a lengthy Latin -grace. In the midst of it I stole a glance at my neighbour, and his -face wore so comical an expression of mingled disgust and eagerness that -I could scarcely refrain from laughing. But all did not conduct -themselves so well, for there was a great disputation going on among -some of the regiment which much hindered the effect of the minister's -Latin. Indeed, I believe had he spoken another dozen words, the patience -of some would have gone altogether. - -"Now," said Master Wishart from the head of the table, "I trust, -gentlemen, that ye may find the entertainment to your liking. Fall to -heartily, for this weather gives a keen edge to the appetite. _Occupet -extremum scabies_, as Horatius hath it; which being translated into the -vulgar idiom is 'Deil tak the hin-most.' Know you that proverb, John? -Come, Master Quellinus, set to, man, ye've had a serious day's work, and -our fleshly tabernacles will not subsist on nothing," adding in an -undertone to me, "though it's little pressing ye need, for to press ye -to eat is like giving a shog to a cairt that's fa'in ower the Castle -Rock." - -I paid little heed to Master Quellinus's conversation, which ran chiefly -on viands, or to that of my left-hand neighbour, whose mouth was too -full for words. But I found great entertainment in watching the faces -and listening to the speech of some of the other guests. The table was -wide and the light dim, so that I had much ado to make out clearly those -opposite me. I marked Mistress Kate, very daintily dressed, talking -gaily to some one at her side. - -"Well, to tell you the truth, my dear Mistress Kate, this land of yours -is not very much to my liking. To be sure a soldier is contented -wherever his duty calls him, but there is no fighting to be done, and -the sport is not what I have found it elsewhere. I am in such a -devilish strict place that, Gad, I cannot have a game with a fat citizen -without having to listen to a rigmarole of half an hour's duration on -the next morning. There is so much psalm-singing in the place that an -honest gentleman can scarcely raise a merry song without having his -voice stopped by half a dozen sour-faced knaves. 'Faith, I wish I were -back in my own land, where there is some work for a cavalier. There is -but one thing that I should except," and he bowed low to his neighbour, -"the women, who are as beautiful as the men-folk are hideous. Though, -in truth, I believe that the most lovely of them all is a countrywoman -of my own"; and again he made her a fine bow. - -The voice and the tone were strangely familiar, but for the life of me, -I could not give them a name. I could only note that the man was a big, -squarely-made fellow, and that he seemed to be in a mind to make love to -his host's daughter. She made some blushing reply to his compliments, -and then, as luck would have it, a servant set a light between us, and -the faces of both were revealed clearly to me. - -I sat bolt upright in my chair with sheer astonishment. For there, -dressed in the habiliments of the Scots regiment, and bearing himself -with all his old braggadocio, sat my cousin Gilbert. - -Then I remembered how I had heard that he had gone abroad to some -foreign service, partly to escape the consequences of some scrapes into -which he had fallen, partly to get rid of his many debts. And here he -was, coming to the one place in Europe to which I had chosen to go, and -meeting me at the one table which I had chosen to frequent. In that -moment I felt as if the man before me were bound up in some sinister way -with my own life. - -Almost at the same instant he turned his eyes upon me, and we stared in -each other's face. I saw him start, bend his head toward his companion -and ask some question. I judged it to be some query about my name and -doings, for the next moment he looked over to me and accosted me with a -great semblance of hilarity. - -"What," he cries. "Do I see my cousin John? I had not dared to hope for -such a welcome meeting. How came you here?" And he asked me a string of -questions. - -I answered shortly and with no great cordiality, for I still remembered -the doings in Tweeddale, and my heart was still sore in the matter of my -father's death. Forbye this, Gilbert spoke with not a little covert -scorn in his tone, which I, who knew his ways well, was not slow to -detect. It nettled me to think that I was once more to be made to -endure the pleasantries of my cousin. - -"And how goes all in Tweeddale, my dear cousin?" said he. "I condole -with you on your father's death. Ah, he was a good man indeed, and -there are few like him nowadays. And how does Tam Todd, my friend, who -has such a thick skull and merciless arm? And ah, I forgot! Pray -forgive my neglect. How is fair Mistress Marjory, the coy maid who would -have none of my courtesies?" - -The amazing impudence of the fellow staggered me. It almost passed -belief that he should speak thus of my father whose death had lain so -heavily at his door. This I might have pardoned; but that at a public -table he should talk thus of my love irritated me beyond measure. I -acted as I do always when thus angered: I gave him a short answer and -fell into a state of moody disquietude. - -Meanwhile my cousin, with all the gallantry in the world, kept -whispering his flatteries into the pretty ears of Mistress Kate. This -was ever Gilbert's way. He would make love to every tavern wench and -kiss every village lass on his course. 'Twas a thing I never could do. -I take no credit for the omission, for it is but the way God makes a -man. Whenever I felt in the way to trying it, there was always -Marjory's face to come before my eyes and make me think shame of myself. - -As I sat and watched these twain I had no eyes for any other. The very -sight of Gilbert brought back to me all my boyhood in Tweedside, and a -crowd of memories came surging in upon me. I fancied, too, that there -was something of Marjory in the little graceful head at my cousin's -elbow, and the musical, quick speech. I felt wretchedly jealous of him, -God knows why; for the sight of him revived any old fragments which had -long lain lurking in the corners of my mind; and as he chatted gaily to -the woman at his side, I had mind of that evening at Barns when I, just -returned from Glasgow college, first felt the lust of possession. I sat -and moodily sipped my wine. Why had I ever left my own land and -suffered my lady to be exposed to manifold perils? for with the first -dawnings of jealousy and anger came a gnawing anxiety. I had never felt -such a sickness for home before, and I cursed the man who had come to -ruin my peace of mind. Yet my feeling toward my cousin was not that of -hatred; indeed I could not refrain from a certain pity for the man, for -I discerned in him much noble quality, and was he not of my own blood? - -"Come now," I heard Mistress Kate simper, "I do not believe that tale of -anyone, and above all, of him; for a soberer does not live. Fie, fie, -Master Gilbert, I took you for a more generous man." - -"On my faith, my dear, it is true," replied my cousin. "For all his -docile looks, he is as fond of a game as the rest of us." - -Now I guessed that my frolicsome cousin had been traducing me to the -fair Kate, and I grew not a little hot. But his next word changed my -heat into fierce anger. For my cousin continued: - -"What saith the Latin poet?" and he quoted a couplet from Martial--a -jest at the usual amusements of the seemingly decent man. - -I know not where he had got hold of it, for he was no scholar; but it -was full of the exceeding grossness which is scarcely to be found -outside that poet. He thought, I could guess, that the girl understood -no Latin, but, as I knew, she had a special proficiency in that tongue. -She understood the jest only too well. A deep blush grew over her face -from her delicate throat to the very borders of her hair. 'Twas just in -such a way that Marjory had looked when I first told her my love; 'twas -in such a fashion she had bade me farewell. The thought of her raised a -great storm of passion in my heart against anyone who would dare thus to -put a woman to shame. I strove hard to curb it, but I felt with each -second that it would overmaster me. - -"Well, John, what think you of my Latinity?" asked my cousin from over -the table. - -"I think, I think," I cried, "that you are a damned scurrilous fellow, a -paillard, a hound; 'fore God, Gilbert, I will make you smart for this," -and, ere I well knew what I did, I had seized my glass and hurled it at -his head. - -It struck him on the cheek, scratching the skin, but doing little hurt. - -In a trice he was on his feet with his hand at his sword. One half the -table rose and stared at the two of us, while Master Wishart left the -head and came rushing to the back of my chair. As for myself, I felt -such desperate shame at my conduct that I knew not what to do. I had -now made a fool of myself in downright earnest. I felt my cheek -tingling and flaming, but I could do naught but look before me. - -Then my cousin did a thing which gave him great honour, and completed my -shame; for bridling his anger, as I saw with a mighty effort, he said -calmly, though his arms were quivering with rage: - -"I would ask you to be more careful in your use of glasses. See, yours -has flown right over to me and played havoc with my cheek. 'Faith, it -is no light duty to sup opposite you, _mon ami_. But, indeed, -gentlemen," and he bowed to the company, "'twas but an unfortunate -mischance." - -At this all sat down again, and scarce five minutes after, Gilbert rose -to leave, and with him the other gentlemen of his regiment. Master -Wishart bade him sit down again, for the night was yet young, but my -cousin would not be persuaded. He nodded carelessly to me, kissed his -hand to pretty Mistress Kate, and swaggered out. - -I sat dazed and meditative. I was raw to many things, but I knew well -that Gilbert was not the man to sit down under such an affront. He had -shielded me for his own reasons, of which I guessed that family pride -was not the least; but he would seek a meeting with all dispatch. And, -in truth, I was not averse to it, for I had many accounts to settle with -my dear cousin. I fell to thinking about the details of the matter. In -all likelihood he would come on the Monday, for the Sabbath was a day of -too strict propriety in this land as in my own, to allow of the settling -of any such business. Well, come when he might, I should be ready; and -I rose from the table, for the sooner I was back in Leyden, the better. - -I took farewell of my host, and he could not refrain from whispering in -my ear at parting: "Jock, Jock, my man, ye've made a bonny mess o't. -Ye'll hae to fecht for it, and see ye dae't weel." - -Nicol was waiting at the gate with the horses, and, together, we turned -on our homeward way. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - OUR ADVENTURE ON THE ALPHEN ROAD - - -We rode in silence for maybe half a mile, while I turned over the events -of the evening in my mind and tried to find some way out of the -difficulties in which, by my own folly, I found myself placed. Nicol -looked steadfastly before him and said never a word. By and by I found -the desire for some one to speak with so overpowering that I up and -asked him if he had heard aught of the events of the evening. - -"Ay, sir," said he, "I heard ye had some kind o' stramash, but that was -a'. I trust ye're weel oot o't." - -"Have you heard of my cousin Gilbert?" I asked. - -"The wastland lad wha used to come aboot the Barns? Oh, aye! I've -heard o' him." - -"I flung a glass at his face to-night," said I. - -"I hope, sir, that he flung anither at yoursel'?" he asked anxiously. - -"No. He swallowed the insult and left soon after. He is not the man to -let me off so easily." - -"Whew," said Nicol, "but that's bad. Wad ye mind, Laird, if I rode on -afore ye?" - -"Why?" I asked. - -"Cousins and sodger-folk are kittle cattle," said he. "I wadna wonder -noo but that Maister Gilbert were ahint a dyke. I've heard tell o' some -o' his pliskies in his ain land, and he's no the lad to let a midge -stick in his throat." - -I drew up my horse angrily. - -"Nicol," I cried, "you are intolerable. My cousin is a gentleman of -birth, and do you think he is the man to kill from a dyke-side? Fie on -you, you have the notions of a common roost-robber." - -"Weel, away then, my lord," cries he. "So be it; but I've little faith -in your Gilberts for a' their gentrice. I ken their breed ower weel. -But I maun ride afore ye, for there are some gey rough bits on the road, -and I'm a wee bit mair sure in the saddle than yoursel, wi' a' respect -to your lairdship." - -So the wilful fellow must needs ride before me, looking sharply to the -right and left as though we were in far Muscovy instead of peaceful -Holland. - -As for me, I felt in no humour to listen to my servant's tales or do -aught than think dolefully on my own matters. The sight of my cousin -and of Mistress Kate had made me sore sick for home, and I could have -found it in my heart once and again to take ship at the next sailing for -Leith. But these thoughts I choked down, for I felt that they were -unbecoming to any man. Yet I longed for Marjory as never lover longed -for his mistress. Her bright hair was ever before my sight, and her -last words on that February evening rang always in my head. I prayed to -God to watch over her as I rode through the stiff poplars on the way to -Leyden. - -As for my quarrel, I cared not a straw for Gilbert and his ill-will, it -having never been my nature to be timorous toward men. Nay, I looked -forward to meeting him with no little pleasure, for it had long been an -open question which of the twain was best at the sword-play. - -"Maister John," said Nicol, suddenly turning round, "I saw twae men -creeping roond thae scrunts o' trees. I wis they maunna be after ony -ill." We were by this time nearing a black, inhospitable part of the -land, where the road ran across a moor all covered with ferns and rushes -and old trunks of trees. - -"Ride on," said I; "if we turned for every man that crosses the path, we -should never leave our own threshold." - -He did as he was ordered, and our horses being put to the canter, -covered the ground gallantly, and our stirrup-chains clinked in the -silent night. - -Suddenly, to my amazement, I saw Nicol fling himself back in the saddle -while his horse stumbled violently forward. It was one of the most -ingenious feats of horsemanship that I have ever witnessed. The beast -stood quivering, his ears erect with fright, while I rode alongside. - -"For God's sake, sir, take care," Nicol cried. "There's some damned -thing ower the road, and if I hadna been on the watch it wad hae been a' -ower wif yae guid man. Watch, for ye may get a shot in your belly any -meenute." - -Now, as it chanced, it was that lively canter which saved us, for the -rogues who had set the trap had retired a good way, not expecting us so -early. At the sound of the stumble they came rushing up from among the -fern, and, ere I knew, a pistol shot cracked past my ears, and another -and another. - -Two went wide; one hit my horse on the ear and made him unmanageable, so -that I sat there with my beast plunging and kicking, at the mercy of -whosoever had a fourth pistol. - -Nicol spoke not a word, but turning his horse, dashed forward in the -direction whence the shots had come. As it fell out, it was the best -thing that anyone could have done, for the robbers, not expecting any -such assault, were preparing to fire again. As it was, the forefeet of -the horse took one villain on the chest, knocking him senseless and -well-nigh trampling the life out of him. A second gripped Nicol by the -sleeve, and attempted to drag him from the saddle; which plan would -doubtless have succeeded had not my servant, pulling the pistol (which -was not loaded) from his holsters, presented it at the man's head with -such effect that the fellow in fear of his life let go and fled across -the moor. - -By this time I had reduced my own animal to something like submission. -I rode after Nicol and came up just in time to see the third man of the -band (there were but three; for doubtless they trusted to their trap for -unhorsing if not stunning us) engaged in a desperate struggle. Nicol -had him by the throat with one hand and was endeavouring to squeeze the -breath out of him, while he in turn had his opponent by the other arm, -which he was twisting cruelly. Had my servant been on foot the matter -would soon have ended, for the throat fared badly which those long wiry -hands once encircled; but being on horseback he dared not lean forward -lest he should lose his seat. My appearance settled it; for the robber, -freeing himself at one desperate leap, made off at the top of his speed, -leaving his pistols behind him. There remained but the one whom Nicol's -horse had deprived of his senses. - -Unfortunately the blow had not been a very severe one, for he was not -long in coming to himself. There was some water in a little stagnant -pool near at hand which Nicol dashed in his face, and in a little the -man opened his eyes and looked up. - -At the sight of us he started, and the events of the past half hour came -back to his memory. Then a look of sullen, obstinate anger came into -his face, and he lay still, waiting for events to take their course. - -"Who are you?" I asked. - -He made no answer. - -I repeated the question several times, and still the man kept his -silence. - -"Ye donnert scoondrel," cried Nicol, "tell us whae ye are, or ye'll hang -the morn on the gallows-hill at Leyden." - -Still the fellow would not speak. - -"Let's tie him up," said Nicol, "and I'll ride wi' him on the horse -afore me. He'll get justice when we win to the toun." - -But this was not my policy. I had other things to think of than -bringing marauders to trial. A sudden thought struck me. - -"I will try him another way," said I to Nicol. "Do you stand aside." - -The man lay on the ground where my servant's horse had thrown him, with -a belt round his legs, and his arms knotted together. I went up to him, -and stood over. - -"Do you know who I am?" I asked sternly, in as tragic a voice as I could -assume. - -The man stared sulkily, but did not speak. - -"You fool," I cried, "do you think that thus you will circumvent me? -Know that I am the great doctor, Joannes Burnetus of Lugdunum, skilled -in all arts of earth and heaven, able to tell divinations and -prophecies, learned in all magic and witchery. I know all that thou -hast done since thy birth, and thy father and grandsire before thee, all -the wickedness which shall entitle thee to eternal damnation in that -place which the Devil is even now preparing for thee. Yea, I can tell -thee the very death which thou shalt die----" - -"Stop, stop," cried the fellow, "O most learned sir, spare me. I know -thou knowest all things. I confess my sins, and oh, I promise you I -shall mend my ways. Stop, I pray." - -"There is still one ray of hope for thee," said I, "but I cannot give my -word that thou shalt ever gain it, for thou hast advanced too far in sin -already. But yet thou mayest escape, and there is but one way to set -about it--namely, to tell me of all thy wickedness. I adjure thee, by -the sacred sign _Tekel_, which the Chaldaeans used of old; by _Men_, -which was the sign of the Egyptians; by the _Eikon_ of the Greeks; by -the _Lar_ of the Romans. I summon thee by the holy names of God, -_Tetragrammaton, Adonay, Algramay, Saday, Sabaoth, Planaboth, Pantbon, -Craton, Neupmaton, Deus, Homo, Omnipotens_; by _Asmath_, the name of the -Evil One, who is lord over thee and my slave--I summon thee to tell me -all thy deeds." - -The man was frightened past all telling. He tried to crawl to my knees, -and began a recital of all manner of crimes and peccadilloes, from his -boyhood till the present hour. I listened without interest. - -"Had any Scot a part with thee in this night's work?" I asked. - -"No, there was none. There were but Bol and Delvaux beside myself, both -Dutch born and bred." - -My mind was lightened. I never really believed my cousin to have had -any part in such a matter, but I was glad to know it for truth. - -"You may go now," I said, "go and repent, and may God blast thee with -all his fire if thou turnest thy hand to evil again. By the bye, thy -name? I must have it from thy own lips." - -"Jan Hamman, your lordship," said he. - -"Well, God pity thee, Jan Hamman, if ever I lay my hand on thee again. -Be off now." - -He was off in a twinkling, running for his very life. Nicol and I -remounted, and rode onward, coming to Leyden at the hour of one on the -Sabbath morning--a thing which I much regretted. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - THE FIRST SUNDAY OF MARCH - - -I slept late on the next morning, so that it was near nine o'clock ere I -was up and dressed. By the time that I broke my fast I had had some -leisure to reflect upon the events of the preceding night and the -consequences which should ensue. Nicol came to me as soon as the meal -was over, and together we sat down to consult. - -"This is the Sabbath, your honour," said Nicol, "so ye may consider -yoursel' free for the day at ony rate." - -"Not so free," said I, for I knew my cousin Gilbert. "The men I've to -deal with have no more respect for the Lord's day than you have for a -Popish fast, so we must put that out of account." - -"Weel, weel," said Nicol, "if that's sae it maun be sae. Will ye gang -oot wi' him the day?" - -"No," said I, "not that I am caring for the day, for you mind the -proverb, 'the better the day the better the work,' but, being in a -foreign land, I am loth to break with the customs of my country. So -we'll keep the Sabbath, Nicol my lad, and let Gilbert whistle." - -Now I would not have him who may read this narrative think, from my -conduct on this occasion, that I was whiggishly inclined, for, indeed, I -cared naught about such little matters. I would have a man use the -Sabbath like any other day, saving that, as it seems to me, it is a day -which may profitably be used for serious reading and meditation. But I -was ever of a curious disposition, liking to be always in mind of -Tweeddale and the folk there, so that I kept the Sabbath during my life -abroad as strictly as a covenanting minister on the moors of Ayr. - -"Weel, Laird, that means ye'll no see the body though he comes," said -Nicol, "and, God help me, if ye dae that there'll be a terrible stramash -at the street door. I'se warrant auld Mistress Vanderdecker 'll get her -ribs knockit in if she tries to keep them oot." - -"They can make all the noise they please," said I hotly, "but if it -comes to that the two of us are as good as their bit officers. I ask -for nothing better than to take some of the pride out of Gilbert's -friends with the flat of my sword. Then if they come to-day and are -refused entrance, they will come back to-morrow, and all will be well." - -"Then what am I to dae? When the bodies come to the door, I'm to say, -'His lordship's compliments, but his lordship's busy keeping the Sabbath -in his upper chamber, and if ye will come back the morn he'll look into -your claims.' 'Faith, it's awfu' like auld Sanders Blackett, the lawyer -at Peebles, when I gaed to him seeking the law o' the miller o' Rachan. -It was about nine o'clock yae winter's nicht when I got there, and -Sanders was at supper. He stappit his heid oot o' the window and, says -he, 'Gang awa', my man, and come back the morn. I'm busy takin' the -books.' But I saw by the een o' him that he was daein' nae siccan -thing. 'Oh,' says I, 'if ye ca' kippered saumon and schnapps the books, -I'm content. I'll just come in and help ye to tak them tae.' But he -says verra angry, 'Go away, ye impious man, lest the judgment of Heaven -light upon you. I've godly Maister Clovenclaws assisting me in the -solemn ordinance.' 'Awa' wi' your Clovenclaws,' says I, 'I've come ten -mile to speak wi' ye, and I'll no gang hame wi'oot it.' But I was just -thinkin' I would have to gang back after a', when a voice comes frae the -inside, 'Sanders, ye limb o' the deil, whaur's the sugar?' I kenned -Maister Clovenclaws' voice ower weel, so Sanders begins to think that it -wadna dae to let it be telled a' ower the toun that him and the minister -had been birling at the wine thegither. So 'Come in, Maister -Plenderleith,' says he verra cannily, and in I gaed, and sic a nicht's -drinking I never saw. I put Sanders in his bed, honest man, about twae -o'clock i' the morning, and syne Clovenclaws and me gaed at it till -daylicht. I wantit to see the body below the table afore I gaed, and he -wantit to see me, so we sat at it till I was fain to drap for very -decency's sake. So what does the man dae but lift me on his shouther -and walk as straucht ower to the manse as if he were new oot o' his bed; -and there he gied me some guid advice about no presumin' to contend wi' -my superiors, and let me oot at a back door. 'Faith, it was an awfu' -time." - -"You will say to them that I am busy with other work, and that I will be -glad to see them to-morrow about the matter they know of. Most like -they will go away quietly, and if they do not it will be the worse for -their own skins. You take my meaning?" - -"I'll dae your orders, sir, to the letter," said Nicol, and I was well -aware that he would. - -I got my books out and set to work to read the gospel of John in Greek -for my spiritual benefit, but I made little speed. This was mainly the -fault of Nicol, who every few minutes came into the little room where I -sat, on some feigned errand. I soon divined the reason, for the same -chamber contained a great window, whence one might view the whole length -of the narrow street wherein the house was situate, and even some little -portion of the great Breedestraat at the head. It was plain that my -servant was not a little concerned on my account. - -"Are ye sure that your honour's guid wi' the small-swird?" he asked -mournfully. "If this room were a wee bit braider and the day no what it -is I micht gie ye a lesson." - -I did not know whether to laugh or to be angry. "Why, you rascal," I -cried, "do you know anything of these matters? There are many better -swordsmen than I in the world, but I think I am more than a match for -you." - -"Weel," said Nicol modestly, "I've gien some folk a gey fricht wi' the -swird, but let that be. I'll be blithe if ye get the better o' him and -a waefu' man I'll be if he kills ye. Lord, what 'll I dae? I'll hae to -become a sodger in this heathen land, or soom hame, whilk is a thing I -am no capable o'." And he began to sing with a great affectation of -grief: - - The craw killed the pussie O, - The craw killed the pussie O, - The wee bit kittlin' sat and grat - In Jennie's wee bit hoosie O. - ---in which elegant rhyme the reader will observe that my cousin stood -for the crow, I for the pussie, and my servant for the kittlin'. - -I laughed; but it is not seemly to stand by while your own servant sings -a song which compares you to a cat, so I straightway flung a Greek -lexicon at his head, and bade him leave the room. I much regretted the -act, for it was my only copy of the book, Master Struybroek's, and the -best obtainable, and by the fall some leaves came out, and one, [Greek: -_polypenthes_] to [Greek: _polypous_], has not been renewed to this day. - -After Nicol had gone I amused myself by looking out of the window and -watching the passers-by. Some, sober Dutch citizens with Bibles beneath -their arms and their goodly persons habited in decent black, were -striding solemnly to church, while their wives and children came more -slowly behind. Others of the lighter sort were wandering aimlessly on -no purpose but their own pleasure, but all I marked were dressed out in -their finest clothes. What I noted most of all was the greater colour -in the streets than we have in our own land. For there, you will see -little but blacks and drabs and browns, while here the women were often -gaily arrayed in bright tints which gave a pleasing look to the -causeway. - -I had not sat long when I noted two gentlemen coming down the alley from -the Breedestraat, very finely clad, and with a great air of distinction -in their faces. They kept the causeway in such a fashion that all whom -they met had to get into the middle of the road to let them pass. I -half guessed their errand, the more as the face of one of them seemed to -me familiar, and I fancied that he had been one of the guests at the -supper at Alphen. My guess was confirmed by their coming to a halt -outside the door of my lodging and attentively considering the house. -Meantime all their actions were plain to my view from the upper window. - -One of them stepped forward and knocked loudly. Now I had bidden Nicol -be ready to open to them and give my message. So I was not surprised -when I heard the street door opened and the voice of my servant -accosting the men. - -I know not what he said to them, but soon words grew high and I could -see the other come forward to his comrade's side. By and by the door -was slammed violently, and my servant came tearing upstairs. His face -was flushed in wrath. - -"O' a' the insolent scoondrels I ever met, thae twae are the foremost. -They wadna believe me when I telled them ye were busy. 'Busy at what?' -says the yin. 'What's your concern?' says I. 'If ye dinna let us up to -see your maister in half a twinkling,' says the ither, 'by God we'll -make ye.' 'Make me!' says I; 'come on and try it. If it wasna for your -mither's sake I wal tie your necks thegither.'" - -"Nicol," I said, "bring these men up. It will be better to see them." -My intention changed of a sudden, for I did not seek to carry my -finicking too far. - -"I was thinkin' sae, your honour," said Nicol, "but I didna like to say -it." - -So in a little the two gentlemen came up the stairs and into my room, -where I waited to receive them. - -"Gentlemen," said I, "I believe you have some matter to speak of with -me." - -"Why do you keep such scoundrelly servants, Master Burnet?" said one, -whom I knew for Sir James Erskine of Tullo. - -"Your business, gentlemen," I said, seeking to have done with them. -They were slight men, whom I could have dropped out of the window; most -unlike the kind of friends I should have thought my cousin Gilbert would -have chosen. - -"Well, if you will have our business," said the elder, speaking sulkily, -"you are already aware of the unparalleled insult to which a gentlemen -of our regiment was subjected at your hands?" - -"Oh, yes," I said gaily, "I had forgotten. I broke Gilbert's head with -a wine-glass. Does he want to ask my pardon?" - -"You seem to take the matter easily, sir," said one severely. "Let me -tell you that Master Gilbert Burnet demands that you meet him at once -and give satisfaction with your sword." - -"Right," I cried, "I am willing. At what hour shall it be? Shall we -say seven o'clock to-morrow's morning? That is settled then? I have no -second and desire none. There is the length of my sword. Carry my -compliments to my cousin, and tell him I shall be most pleased to -chastise him at the hour we have named. And now, gentlemen, I have the -honour to wish you a very good day," and I bowed them out of the room. - -They were obviously surprised and angered by my careless reception of -their message and themselves. With faces as flushed as a cock's comb -they went down stairs and into the street, and I marked that they never -once looked back, but marched straight on with their heads in the air. - -"Ye've gien thae lads a flee in their lug," said Nicol. "I wish ye may -gie your cousin twae inches o' steel in his vitals the morn." - -"Ah," said I, "that is a different matter. These folk were but -dandified fools. My cousin is a man and a soldier." - -The rest of the day I spent in walking by myself in the meadows beyond -the college gardens, turning over many things in my mind. I had come to -this land for study, and lo! ere I well knew how, I was involved in -quarrels. I felt something of a feeling of shame in the matter, for the -thing had been brought on mainly by my over-fiery temper. Yet when I -pondered deeply I would not have the act undone, for a display of -foolish passion was better in my eyes than the suffering of an insult to -a lady to pass unregarded. - -As for the fight on the morrow I did not know whether to await it with -joy or shrinking. As I have said already, I longed to bring matters -between the two of us to a head. There was much about him that I liked; -he had many commendable virtues; and especially he belonged to my own -house. But it seemed decreed that he should ever come across my path, -and already there was more than one score laid up against him in my -heart. I felt a strange foreboding of the man, as if he were my -_antithesis_, which certain monkish philosophers believed to accompany -everyone in the world. He was so utterly different from me in all -things; my vices he lacked and my virtues; his excellencies I wanted, -and also, I trust, his faults. I felt as if the same place could not -contain us. - -If I conquered him, the upshot would be clear enough. He could not -remain longer in Leyden. His reputation, which was a great one, would be -gone, and he would doubtless change into some other regiment and retire -from the land. If, again, he had the vantage of me, I had no reputation -to lose, so I might remain where I pleased. So he fought with something -of a disadvantage. It was possible that one or other might be killed; -but I much doubted it, for we were both too practised swordsmen to -butcher like common cutthroats. Nevertheless, I felt not a little -uneasy, with a sort of restlessness to see the issue of it all--not -fear, for though I have been afraid many times in my life it was never -because of meeting a man in fair combat. - -Toward evening I returned to my lodging and devoted the remainder of the -day to the study of the books of Joshua and Judges for the comforting of -my soul. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - THE FIRST MONDAY OF MARCH - - -Nicol wakened me before dawn and I made haste to get ready. I looked to -see that my sword was in fit condition, for it was a stout -cut-and-thrust blade of the kind which speedily takes the rust. Then -having taken a draught of strong ale to brace my nerves for the -encounter, I left the house and set off with my servant for the college -gardens. - -The morning was clear and fresh. The sun had not yet fully arisen, but -it was light enough to see two hundred yards before me. A sharp wind -fluttered my cloak, and sent a thrill of strength through me, for it -minded me of the hill breezes which were wont to blow on the heights of -Scrape. There was scarce anyone stirring save a few drowsy burghers -whom it behoved to be attending to their business in the early morn. I -kept my cloak well over my face, for I did not relish the notion of -being recognised by anyone on my errand. - -Now, from the college gardens there stretches down to the great canal a -most beautiful pleasaunce, all set with flower beds and fountains. -Beyond this, again, is a more rugged land--a grove with great patches of -grass in it, and here it was that gentlemen of the Scots regiment were -wont to settle their differences. The morning had been chosen as the -time when it was less likely that some interloping busybody might -interrupt us. - -I cannot tell how I felt as I walked through the cool morning air among -the young herbs and trees which still bore the dew upon them. It minded -me so keenly of the mornings at home in Tweeddale, when I was used to -rise before daylight and go far up Tweed with my rod, and bring back, if -my luck were good, great baskets of trout. Now I was bound on a -different errand. It was even possible that I might see my own land no -more. But this thought I dismissed as unworthy of one who would be -thought a cavalier. - -In time we came to the spot which the others had fixed on. There I -found my men already waiting me; my cousin stripped to his sark and -small-clothes, with his blade glimmering as he felt its edge; his -companions muffled up in heavy cloaks and keeping guard over Gilbert's -stripped garments. They greeted me shortly as I came up, so without -more ado I took off my coat and vest, and gave them into my servant's -keeping. Then going up co my opponent I took his hand. - -"Let there be no malice between us, Gilbert," said I. "I was rash -maybe, but I am here to give account of my rashness." - -"So be it, cousin," he said, as he took my hand coldly. - -We both stepped back a pace and crossed swords, and in a trice we had -fallen to. - -My first thought, and I am not ashamed to confess it, when I felt my -steel meet the steel of my foe, was one of arrant and tumultuous fear. -I had never before crossed swords with anyone in deadly hatred; and in -my case the thing was the harder, for the feeling against my cousin was -not so violent a passion as to make me heedless of aught else. Before -me, behind the back of my antagonist, the thick underwood was already -filled with the twittering of birds, and a great feeling of longing came -upon me to get well through with the affair and escape death. For now a -feeling which I had not reckoned with came to oppress me--the fear of -death. Had my wits been more about me, I might have reflected that my -cousin was too good a swordsman to kill me and lay himself open to many -penalties. But my mind was in such a confusion that I could think of -naught but an overwhelming danger. - -Howbeit, in a little this fit passed, and once more I was myself. -Gilbert, for what reason I know not, fenced swiftly and violently. Blow -came upon blow till I scarce could keep my breath. I fell at once upon -the defensive, and hazarded never a cut, but set all my powers to -preserving my skin. And in truth this was no easy task, for he had -acquired a villainous trick of passing suddenly from the leg-cut to the -head-stroke, so that more than once I came not up to guard in time and -had his sword almost among my hair. I could not guess what he meant by -this strategy, for I had ever believed that a man who began in a hot-fit -ended in a languor. He sought, I doubt not, to speedily put an end to -the encounter by putting forth his greater strength, hoping to beat down -my guard or bewilder me with the multiplicity of his flourishes. - -Now this conduct of my opponent had an effect the very counter of what -he proposed. I became completely at my ease; indeed, I swear I never -felt more cool in my life. This has ever been the way with me, for I -have always been at my best in the extremest perils. Oftentimes when -things went very sore with me, I was at a loss and saw no way of escape; -but let them get a little worse and I was ready to meet them. So now I -was on the watch to frustrate every moment, and since no man can fight -rapidly and fight well, I kept him at bay till he deemed it prudent to -give up this method. - -But now when he came down to slow, skilful fence I found my real danger. -We were well matched, as had been proved in many a harmless encounter on -the turf by the Tweed. I was something lighter, he somewhat stronger in -the arm and firmer in the body; but taking us all in all we were as -equal a pair as ever crossed swords. And now there was an utter -silence; even the birds on the trees seemed to have ceased. The others -no longer talked. The sharp clatter and ring of the swords had gone, -and in its place was a deadly _swish--swish_, which every man who has -heard it dreads, for it means that each stroke grazes the vitals. I -would have given much in that hour for another inch to my arm. I put -forth all my skill of fence. All that I had learned from Tam Todd, all -that I had found out by my own wits was present to me; but try as I -would, and I warrant you I tried my utmost, I could not overreach my -opponent. Yet I fenced steadily, and if I made no progress, I did not -yield my ground. - -With Gilbert the case was otherwise. His play was the most brilliant I -had ever seen, full of fantastic feints and flourishes such as is the -French fashion. But I could not think that a man could last for ever in -this style, since for one stroke of my arm there were two of his and -much leaping from place to place. But beyond doubt he pressed me close. -Again and again I felt his steel slipping under my guard, and it was -only by a violent parry that I escaped. One stroke had cut open my -sleeve and grazed my arm, but beyond this no one of us had suffered -hurt. - -But soon a thing which I had scarcely foreseen began to daunt me. I was -placed facing the east, and the rising sun began to catch my eyes. The -ground was my own choosing, so my ill-luck was my own and no fault of -Gilbert's. But it soon began to interfere heavily with my play. I -could only stand on guard. I dared not risk a bold stroke, lest, my -eyes being dazzled by the light, I should miscalculate the distance. I -own I began to feel a spasm of fear. More than one of my opponent's -strokes came within perilous nearness. The ground too was not firm, and -my foot slid once and again when I tried to advance. To add to it all -there was Gilbert's face above the point of the swords, cold, scornful, -and triumphant. I began to feel incredibly weak about the small of the -back, and I suppose my arm must have wavered, for in guarding a -shoulder-cut I dropped my point, and my enemy's blade scratched my left -arm just above the elbow. I staggered back with the shock of the blow, -and my cousin had a moment's breathing-space. I was so obviously the -loser in the game, that Gilbert grew merry at my expense. - -"Well, John," he cried, "does't hurt thee? My arm is somewhat rougher -than Marjory's." - -There seems little enough in the words, yet I cannot tell how that taunt -angered me. In the mouth of another I had not minded it, but I had a -way of growing hot whenever I thought of my cousin and my lady in the -same minute of time. It called to my mind a flood of bitter memories. -In this encounter, at any rate, it was the saving of me. Once more I -was myself, and now I had that overmastering passionate hate which I -lacked before. When I crossed swords again I felt no doubt of the issue -and desired only to hasten it. He on his part must have seen something -in my eyes which he did not like, for he ceased his flourishes and fell -on defence. - -Then it was that the real combat of the day commenced. Before it had -been little more than a trial of skill, now it was a deadly and -determined battle. In my state of mind I would have killed my foe with -a light heart, however much I might have sorrowed for it after. And now -he began to see the folly of his conduct in the fore-part of the fight. -I was still fresh and stout of arm; he was a little weary and his -self-confidence a little gone. - -"By God, Gilbert, you will eat your words," I cried, and had at him with -might and main. - -I fenced as I had never fenced before, not rashly, but persistently, -fiercely, cunningly. Every attempt of his I met and foiled. Again and -again I was within an ace of putting an end to the thing, but for some -trifling obstacle which hindered me. He now fought sullenly, with fear -in his eyes, for he knew not what I purposed concerning him. I warrant -he rued his taunt a hundred times in those brief minutes. - -At last my opportunity came. He made a desperate lunge forward, swung -half round and exposed his right arm. I thrust skilfully and true. -Straight through cloth and skin went my blade, and almost ere I knew I -had spitted him clean through the arm just above the elbow. The sword -dropped from his helpless hand. - -I had put forth too much strength, for as he stumbled back with the -shock of the wound I could not check my course, but staggered heavily -against him and together we rolled on the ground. - -In a second I was on my feet and had drawn out my weapon. With lowered -point I awaited his rising, for he was now powerless to continue. - -"Well," said I, "have you had satisfaction?" - -He rose to his feet with an ugly smile. "Sufficient for the present, -cousin John," said he. "I own you have got the better of me this time. -Hi, Stephen, will you lend me a kerchief to bind this cursed wound?" - -One of his companions came up and saw to his wants. I made to go away, -for there was no further need of my presence, but my cousin called me -back. - -"Farewell, John," he said. "Let us not part in anger, as before. -Parting in anger, they say, means meeting in friendship. And, 'faith, I -would rather part from you in all love and meet you next in wrath." - -"Farewell," I said carelessly as I departed, though I was amazed to hear -a man with a pierced arm speak so lightly. Courage was not a quality -which my cousin had to seek. So I left him in high good humour with -myself, much pleased at my own prowess, and sensible that all immediate -annoyance from that quarter was at an end. - -Little man knows what God hath prepared for him. Had it not been for his -defeat, Gilbert had not left Holland, and my greater misfortunes had -never happened. And yet at that hour I rejoiced that I had rid myself -of a torment. - -Nicol was awaiting me, and soon I was arrayed in my coat once more, for -the air was shrewdly cold. My servant was pale as I had never seen him -before, and it was clear that he had watched the combat with much -foreboding. - -"Eh, Maister John," he cried, "ye're a braw fechter. I never likit ye -half as weel. I thocht a' was up whiles, but ye aye cam to yoursel' as -sprig as a wull-cat. Ye're maybe a wee thing weak i' the heid-cuts, -though," he added. "I'll hae to see to ye. It's no what ye micht ca' -profitable to be aye proddin' a man in the wame, for ye may prick him a' -ower and him no muckle the waur. But a guid cleavin' slash on the harns -is maist judeecious. It wad kill a stirk." - -It was still early and we had breakfasted sparely, so we sought a tavern -of good repute, _The Three Crows_, and made a hearty meal, washing it -down with the best Rhenish. I was so mightily pleased with my victory, -like a child with its toy, that I held my head a full inch higher, and -would yield the causeway to no man. I do believe if M. Balagny or the -great Lord Herbert had challenged me I would not have refused. - -Some three days later I had sure tidings that my cousin had sailed for -Leith and was thought to have no design of returning. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - I SPEND MY DAYS IN IDLENESS - - -Summer came on the heels of spring, and the little strip of garden below -my windows grew gay as the frock of a burgher's wife on a Sunday. There -were great lines of tulips, purple and red and yellow, stately as kings, -erect as a line of soldiers, which extended down the long border nigh to -the edge of the water. The lawn was green and well trimmed and shaded -by the orderly trees. It was pleasant to sit here in the evenings, when -Nicol would bring out the supper-table to the grass, and we would drink -our evening ale while the sun was making all the canal a strip of beaten -gold. Many folk used to come of an evening, some of them come to the -university on the same errand as myself, others, Scots gentlemen out of -place and out of pocket, who sought to remedy both evils by paying court -to the Stadtholder. Then we would talk of our own land and tell tales -and crack jests till the garden rang with laughter. I could well wish -those times back, if I could bring with them the _forte latus, nigros -angusta fronte capillos, dulce loqui, ridere decorum_. But fie on me -for such discontent! Hath not God given good gifts for age as well as -youth--aye, perhaps in greater abundance? - -I pursued my studies in the ancient literatures and philosophy with much -diligence and profit. Nevertheless, there was much to turn my -attention, and I doubt if I did not find the folk around me the more -diverting objects of study. I lived in an air of theology and -philosophy and statecraft, hearing discussions on these and kindred -matters all the day long. There were many of my own countrymen in the -place, who are notoriously the most contentious of mankind: so that I -could scarcely walk down any street without hearing some violent -disputation in my own tongue. As for the other people of the place, I -found them both civil and hospitable. - -The routine of my days was as regular as clockwork, for it was always -part of my method to apportion my day equally among my duties. In the -morning, immediately upon rising, I went to Master Sandvoort's lecture -on the Latin tongue. Then I broke my fast in the little tavern, _The -Gray Goose_, just at the south entrance to the college. It was a clean, -well-fitted place, where was found the fattest landlord and the best ale -in Holland. Then at the hour of ten in the forenoon I went to listen to -the eloquence of Master Quellinus. Having returned thence to my lodging -I was wont to spend the time till dinner in study. Thereafter I walked -in the town, or resorted to the houses of my friends, or read in the -garden till maybe four o'clock, when it was my custom to go to the -dwelling of Sir William Crichtoun (him whom I have spoken of before), -and there, in the company of such Scots gentlemen as pleaded to come, to -pass the time very pleasantly. From these meetings I had vast profit, -for I learned something of the conduct of affairs and the ways of the -world, in the knowledge of which I had still much to seek. Then home -once more to study, and then to bed with a clear conscience and great -drowsiness. - -But there were several incidents which befell during this time, and -which served to break the monotony of my life, which merit the telling. -Firstly, towards the end of September who should come to visit me but my -kinsman, Gilbert Burnet of Salisbury, a scholar shrewd and profound, a -gentleman of excellent parts, and the devoutest Christian it has ever -been my lot to fall in with. He was just returning from his journey to -Italy, whereof he has written in his work, "Some Letters to T.H.R.B. -Concerning his Travels in Italy and Holland." It was one afternoon as I -sat in the arbour that Nicol came across the green followed by an -elderly man of grave and comely appearance. It was to my great joy that -I recognised my kinsman. He had alighted in Leyden that morning and -proposed to abide there some days. I would have it that he should put -up at my lodgings, and thither he came after many entreaties. During -his stay in the city he visited many of the greater folk, for his fame -had already gone abroad, and he was welcome everywhere. He was a man of -delightful converse, for had he not travelled in many lands and mixed -with the most famous? He questioned me as to my progress in letters and -declared himself more than satisfied. "For, John," said he, "I have met -many who had greater knowledge, but none of a more refined taste and -excellent judgment. Did you decide on the profession of a scholar I -think I could promise you a singular success. But indeed it is absurd to -think of it, for you, as I take it, are a Burnet and a man of action and -one never to be satisfied with a life of study. I counsel you not to -tarry too long in this foreign land, for your country hath sore need of -men like you in her present distress." Then he fell to questioning me -as to my opinions on matters political and religious. I told him that I -was for the church and the king to the death, but that I held that the -one would be the better of a little moderation in its course, and that -the other had fallen into indifferent hands. I told him that it grieved -my heart to hear of my own countrymen pursued like partridges on the -mountains by some blackguard soldiers, and that when I did return, while -deeming it my duty to take the part of the king in all things, I would -also think it right to hinder to the best of my power the persecution. -In this matter he applauded me. It pained him more than he could tell, -said he, to think that the church of his own land was in such an ill -condition that it did not trust its friends. "What in Heaven's name is -all this pother?" he cried. "Is a man to suffer because he thinks one -way of worshipping his God better than another? Rather let us rejoice -when he worships Him at all, whether it be at a dyke-side or in the -King's Chapel." And indeed in this matter he was of my own way of -thinking. When finally he took his leave it was to my great regret, for -I found him a man of kindly and sober counsels. - -Yet his visit had one result which I had little dreamed of, for it led -me to show greater friendliness to such of the Scots covenanters as were -refugees in the town. I learned something of their real godliness and -courage, and was enabled to do them many little services. In -particular, such letters as they wished to write to their friends at -home I transmitted under my own name and seal, since all communication -with Holland was highly suspected unless from a man of approved loyalty. - -The other matter which I think worth noting was the acquaintance I -formed with a Frenchman, one M. de Rohaine, a gentleman of birth, who -was in great poverty and abode in a mean street off the Garen Markt. -The way in which I first met him was curious. I was coming home late -one evening from Master Swinton's house, and in passing through a little -alley which leads from near the college to the Garen Markt, I was -apprised of some disturbance by a loud noise of tumult. Pushing forward -amid a crowd of apprentices and fellows of the baser sort, I saw a -little man, maybe a tailor or cobbler from his appearance, with his back -against a door and sore pressed by three ruffians, who kept crying out -that now they would pay him for his miserly ways. The mob was clearly -on their side, for it kept applauding whenever they struck or jostled -him. I was just in the act of going forward to put an end to so unequal -a combat, when a tall grave man thrust himself out of the throng and -cried out in Dutch for them to let go. They answered with some taunt, -and almost before I knew he had taken two of the three, one in either -hand, and made their heads meet with a sounding crack. I was hugely -delighted with the feat, and broke forward to offer my help, for it soon -became clear that this champion would have to use all his wits to get -out of the place. The three came at him swearing vehemently, and with -evil looks in their eyes. He nodded to me as I took my stand at his -side. - -"Look after the red-beard, friend," he cried. "I will take the other -two." - -And then I found my hands full indeed, for my opponent was tough and -active, and cared nothing for the rules of honourable warfare. In the -end, however, my training got the mastery, and I pinked him very -prettily in the right leg, and so put him out of the fight. Then I had -time to turn to the others, and here I found my new-found comrade sore -bested. He had an ugly cut in his forehead, whence a trickle of blood -crawled over his face. But his foes were in a worse case still, and -when word came at the moment that a body of the guard was coming they -made off with all speed. - -The man turned and offered me his hand, - -"Let me thank you, sir, whoever you may be," said he. "I am the Sieur -de Rohaine at your service." - -"And I am Master John Burnet of Barns in Scotland," said I. - -"What," he cried, "a Scot!" And nothing would serve him but that I must -come with him to his lodging and join him at supper. For, as it seemed, -he himself had just come from Scotland, and was full of memories of the -land. - -I found him a man according to my heart. When I spoke of his gallantry -he but shrugged his shoulders. "Ah," said he, "it was ever my way to get -into scrapes of that kind. Were I less ready to mix in others' business -I had been a richer and happier man to-day," and he sighed. - -From him I learned something more of the condition of my own land, and -it was worse even than I had feared. M. de Rohaine had had many strange -adventures in it, but he seemed to shrink from speaking of himself and -his own affairs. There was in his eyes a look of fixed melancholy as of -one who had encountered much sorrow in his time and had little hope for -more happiness in the world. Yet withal he was so gracious and noble in -presence that I felt I was in the company of a man indeed. - -If I were to tell all the benefit I derived from this man I should fill -a volume and never reach the end of my tale. Suffice it to say that -from him I learned many of the tricks of sword play, so that soon I -became as nigh perfect in the art as it was ever in my power to be. I -learned too of other lands where he had been and wars which he had -fought; and many tales which I have often told at home in Tweeddale I -first heard from his lips. I was scarce ever out of his company, until -one day he received a letter from a kinsman bidding him return on urgent -necessity. He made his farewells to me with great regret, and on -parting bade me count on his aid if I should ever need it. From that -day to this I have never cast eyes on his face or heard tidings of him, -but I herewith charge all folk of my family who may read this tale, if -ever it be their fortune to meet with one of his name or race, that they -befriend him to the best of their power, seeing that he did much -kindness to me. - -So the summer passed with one thing and another, till, ere I knew, -winter was upon us. And I would have you know that winter in the Low -Countries is very different from winter with us among the hills of -Tweed. For here we have much mist and rain and a very great deal of -snow; also the cold is of a kind hard to endure, since it is not of the -masterful, overbearing kind, but raw and invidious. But there the frost -begins in late autumn and keeps on well till early spring. Nor was -there in my experience much haze or rain, but the weather throughout the -months was dry and piercing. Little snow fell, beyond a sprinkling in -the fore-end of January. Every stream and pond, every loch and canal -was hard and fast with ice, and that of the purest blue colour and the -keenest temper I have ever seen. All the townsfolk turned out to -disport themselves on the frozen water, having their feet shod with -runners of steel wherewith they performed the most wondrous feats of -activity. The peasant-girls going to market with their farm produce -were equipped with these same runners, and on them proceeded more -quickly than if they had ridden on the highroad. - -Often, too, during the winter, there were festivals on the ice, when the -men arrayed in thick clothes and the women in their bravest furs came to -amuse themselves at this pastime. I went once or twice as a spectator, -and when I saw the ease and grace of the motion was straightway smitten -with a monstrous desire to do likewise. So I bought a pair of runners -and fitted them on my feet. I shall not dwell upon my immediate -experiences, of which indeed I have no clear remembrance, having spent -the better part of that afternoon on the back of my head in great bodily -discomfort. But in time I made myself master of the art and soon was -covering the ice as gaily as the best of them. I still remember the -trick of the thing, and five years ago, when the floods in Tweed made a -sea of the lower part of Manor valley, and the subsequent great frost -made this sea as hard as the high-road, I buckled on my runners and had -great diversion, to the country folks' amazement. - -In all this time I had had many letters from Marjory, letters writ in a -cheerful, pleasant tone, praying indeed for my return, but in no wise -complaining of my absence. They were full of news of the folk of -Tweedside, how Tam Todd was faring at Barns, and what sport her brother -Michael was having in the haughlands among the wild-duck. I looked -eagerly for the coming of those letters, for my heart was ever at -Dawyck, and though I much enjoyed my sojourning in Holland, I was yet -glad and willing for the time of departure to arrive. In January of the -next year I received a bundle of news written in the gayest of spirits; -but after that for three months and more I heard nothing. From this -long silence I had much food for anxiety, for though I wrote, I am sure, -some half-dozen times, no reply ever came. The uneasiness into which -this put me cast something of a gloom over the latter part of the -winter. I invented a hundred reasons to explain it. Marjory might be -ill; the letters might have gone astray; perhaps she had naught to tell -me. But I could not satisfy myself with these excuses, so I had e'en to -wait the issue of events. - -It was not till the month of April that I had news from my love, and -what this was I shall hasten to tell. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - THE COMING OF THE BRIG SEAMAW - - -It was the third day of April, a day so cool and mild that every one who -could was in the open air, that I sat in the little strip of garden -behind my lodging, reading the Symposium of Plato in the light of -certain digests of Master Quellinus. The beds of hyacinth, yellow and -blue and red, were flaunting before my eyes, and down by the water's -edge the swallows were twittering and skimming. The soft spring wind -fluttered the leaves of my book and stirred my hair, so that I found it -hard indeed to keep my attention fixed. Some yards behind me Nicol sat -cleaning a fishing-rod, for in the idle days he amused himself with -trying his skill among the sleepy streams. He was whistling some bars -of "Leezie Lindsay," and the tune, which I had often heard in Tweeddale, -put me much in mind of home and inclined my heart violently to the place -I had left. So soon I found my Plato lying listlessly on my lap, and my -thoughts far away over sea. - -Just now, I knew, would be the lambing-time in the Tweed hills, and all -the valleys would be filled with the noise of sheep. The shepherds, -too, would be burning the bent, and the moors sending up wreaths of -pungent smoke. I minded the smell so well that I almost fancied it was -in my nostrils in place of the moist perfume of hyacinth and violet. At -Barns, Tam Todd would be seeing to the young trees and fishing in the -full streams. At Dawyck, Marjory would be early abroad, plucking the -spring flowers and bringing in armfuls of apple-blossom to deck the -rooms. The thought of Marjory gave me sudden discomfort. I reflected -for the thousandth time that I had heard nothing of her for months, and -I fell to wondering greatly at her silence. By and by, what with -thinking of home and of her and chafing at her neglect, I found myself -in a very pretty state of discontentment. - -It was just then that I heard a voice behind me, and turning round saw -Nicol approaching in company with another. The stranger was a man of -remarkable appearance. He was scarcely the middle height, but his -breadth across the shoulders was so great that he seemed almost -dwarfish. He had arms of extraordinary length, so long that they -reached almost to his knees, like the Tartars in Muscovy that I have -read of. His square, weather-beaten face was filled with much good -humour, and the two eyes which looked out from beneath his shaggy brows -were clear and shrewd. - -"This is Maister Silas Steen o' the brig Seamaw," said Nicol, making an -introduction, "whae has come from Scotland this morning, and says he has -letters wi' him for you." Having delivered himself, my servant -retreated, and left the newcomer alone with me. - -"You'll be Master John Burnet of Barns?" said he, looking at me sharply. - -"The same, at your service," said I. - -"It's just a bit letter for you," and he dived into his pocket and -produced a packet. - -I took it hastily, for I had some guess who was the writer. Nor was I -wrong, for one glance at the superscription told me the truth. And this -is how it ran: - - -"_For Master John Burnet in the house of Mistress Vanderdecker near the -Breedestraat, at Leyden_. - -"DEAR JOHN: I have not written thee for long, and I trust that thereby I -have not given thee trouble. I am well and happy, when this leaves me, -though desiring thy return. I trust your studies are to your -satisfaction. Tam Todd, from the Barns, was over yestreen, and gave a -good account of all things there." - - -Then came a pause, and the writing was resumed in a hurried, irregular -hand. - - -"I am not free to write my will. O John, dear John, come back to me. I -am so unhappy. I cannot survive without thee another day" (this latter -word had been scored out and _month_ put in its place). "I am in -dreadful perplexity. Come quick. - -"MARJORY." - - -You may imagine into what state of mind the reading of this letter threw -me. My lady was in trouble, that was enough for me, and she desired my -aid. I guessed that the letter had been written stealthily and that -some trouble had been found in its conveyance, for it bore the marks of -much crumpling and haste. I could make no conjecture as to its meaning, -and this doubt only the more increased my impatience. - -"From whom did you get this?" I asked. - -"From a great, thin, swart man, who brought it to me at Leith, and bade -me deliver it. I came post haste from Rotterdam this day." - -I ran over in my mind the serving-folk at Dawyck, and could think of -none such. Then, like a flash, I remembered Tam Todd. This doubly -increased my fears. If Marjory could get no porter for her message save -one of my own servants, then the trouble must be at Dawyck itself. - -I can find no words for the depths of my anxiety. To think of Marjory in -sorrow and myself separated by leagues of land and sea well-nigh drove -me distracted. There and then I resolved on my course. - -"Your ship is at Rotterdam?" I asked. - -"Yes," said the captain. - -"When does she sail?" - -"To-morrow night, when the cargo is on board." - -"I'll give you twenty pieces of gold if you'll sail to-night." - -The captain shook his head. "It canna be done," he cried; "my freight -is lace and schiedam, worth four times twenty pieces, and I canna have a -voyage for naething." - -"Listen," said I, "I am in terrible perplexity. I would give you a -hundred, if I had them; but I promise you, if you bring me safely to the -port of Leith, they shall be paid. Ride back to your vessel and ship -all the stuff you can, and I will be with you at eleven o'clock this -night, ready to sail." - -The fellow shook his head, but said nothing. - -"Man, man," I cried, "for God's sake, I implore you. It's a matter to -me of desperate import. See, there are your twenty pieces, and I'll -give you my bond for eighty, to be paid when we win to Leith." - -"Tut, Master Burnet," said he, "I will not be taking your money. But -I'm wae to see you in trouble. I'll take you over the nicht for the -twenty pieces, and if I lose on the venture, you can make it up to me. -It's safer carrying you and running straight for the pier, than carrying -schiedam and dodging about the Bass. And I'm not a man that need count -his pennies. Forbye, I see there's a lady in the case, and I deem it my -duty to assist you." - -I was at first astonished by the man's ready compliance, but when I saw -that he was sincere, I thanked him to the best of my power. "Be sure I -shall not forget this service, Captain Steen," said I; "and if it is -ever in my power to serve you in return, you may count on me. You will -take some refreshment before you go;" and, calling Nicol, I bade him see -to the stranger's wants. - -Meantime it behooved me to be up and doing if I was to sail that night. -I knew not what to think of the news I had heard, for, as I thought upon -the matter, it seemed so incredible that aught could have gone wrong -that I began to set it all down to mere loneliness and a girl's humours. -The strangeness of the letter I explained with all the sophistry of -care. She did not wish to disturb me and bring me home before my time. -This was what she meant when she said she was not free to write her -will. But at the end her desolateness had overmastered her, and she had -finished with a piteous appeal. Even so I began to reason, and this -casuistry put me in a more hopeful frame of mind. It was right that I -should go home, but when I got there I should find no cause for fear. -But there was much to be done in the town and the college ere I could -take my departure. So when I had paid all the monies that I owed, and -bidden farewell to all my friends (among whom Sir William Crichtoun and -Master Quellinus were greatly affected), I returned to my lodgings. -There I found Nicol in great glee, preparing my baggage. He was -whistling the "Lawlands of Holland," and every now and then he would -stop to address himself. "Ye're gaun hame," I heard him saying, "ye're -gaun hame to the hills and the bonny water o' Tweed, and guid kindly -Scots folk, after thae frostit Hollanders, and fine tasty parritsh and -honest yill after the abominable meats and drinks o' this stawsome hole. -And ye'd better watch your steps, Nicol Plenderleith, my man, I'm -tellin' ye, and keep a calm sough, for there's a heap o' wark to be -dune, and some o' it geyan wanchancy." - -"Good advice, Nicol," said I, breaking in upon him; "see that you keep -to it." - -"Is that you, Maister John? Ye'll be clean high aboot gaun back. Ye'll -hae seen a' that's to be seen here, for after a' it's no a great place. -And ye maun mind and put a bottle o' French brandy in your valise, or -you'll be awfu' oot on the sea. I think it's likely to be coorse on the -water." - -I took my servant's advice, and when all was done to my liking, I walked -down to the college gate for one last look at the place. I was in a -strange temper--partly glad, partly sad--and wholly excited. When I -looked on the grey, peaceful walls, breathing learning and repose, and -thought of the wise men who had lived there, and the great books that -had been written, and the high thoughts that had been born, I felt a -keen pang of regret. For there was at all times in me much of the -scholar's spirit, and I doubted whether it had not been better for me, -better for all, had I chosen the life of study. I reflected how little -my life would lie now in cloisters and lecture halls, in what -difficulties I would soon be plunged and what troublous waters I might -be cast upon. My own land was in a ferment, with every man's hand -against his brother; my love might be in danger; of a surety it looked -as if henceforward quiet and gentleness might be to seek in my life. I -own that I looked forward to it without shrinking--nay, with a certain -hopeful anticipation; but I confess also that I looked at the past and -all that I was leaving with a certain regret. Indeed, I was born -between two stools; for, while I could never be content to stay at home -and spend my days among books, on the other hand, the life of unlettered -action was repugnant. Had it been possible, I should have gladly dwelt -among wars and tumults with men who cared not for these things alone, -and could return, when all violence was at an end, to books and study -with a cheerful heart. But no man has the making of the world, and he -must even fit himself to it as he finds it. Nor do I think it -altogether evil to have many desires and even many regrets, for it keeps -a man's spirit active, and urges him on to valiant effort. Of this I am -sure, that contentment is the meanest of the virtues. - -As I left the place there was a cool, grey haze over all the gardens and -towers--mellow and soft and lucid. But to the north, where lay the sea, -there was a broken sky, blue, with fitful clouds passing athwart. It -seemed, as it were, the emblem of my life--the tranquil and the -unsettled. Yet in the broken sky there was a promise of sunshine and -brilliance, which was not in the even grey; and this heartened me. - -So at four that evening we mounted horse and rode forth by the way we -had come, and ere the hour of eleven were on the wharf at Rotterdam, -sniffing the distant smell of the sea. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - AN ACCOUNT OF MY HOME-COMING - - -Captain Steen met me on deck and greeted me heartily. "There's a brisk -wind from the sou'-east," said he, "which should speed us well;" and -soon, amid creaking of cordage and flapping of sails, we dropped down -the estuary and set our face sea-wards. There was something of a squall -of rain which beat on us till we were fairly beyond the Dutch coast; but -after that it drew down to the west, and when I awoke the next morn, the -sky was blue and sunshiny, and the soft south wind whistled gaily in the -rigging. - -Of my voyage home I do not purpose to tell at length. On it I met with -none of the mishaps which I had encountered before, so the brandy was -wholly needless. Indeed, I found the greatest pleasure in the journey; -the motion of the ship gave me delight; and it was fine to watch the -great, heaving deserts before and behind, when the sun beat on them at -mid-day, or lay along them in lines of gold and crimson at the -darkening. The captain I found a friendly, talkative man, and from him -I had much news of the state of the land whither I was returning. Nor -was it of such a sort as to elate me, for it seemed as if, in the short -time I had been away, things had taken many steps to the devil. The -truth of the matter, I fancy, was that when I left Tweeddale I was -little more than a boy, with a boy's interests, but that now I had grown -to some measure of manhood and serious reflection. - -But my time during the days of our sailing was in the main taken up with -thoughts of Marjory. The word I had got still rankled in my mind, and I -puzzled my brain with a thousand guesses as to its purport. But as the -hours passed this thought grew less vexatious, for was not I on my way -home, to see my love once more, to help her in perplexity, and, by God's -help, to leave her side never again? So anxiety was changed by degrees -to delight at the expectation of meeting her, and, as I leaned over the -vessel's edge and looked at the foam curling back from the prow, I had -many pleasing images in my fancy. I would soon be in Tweeddale again, -and have Scrape and Dollar Law and Caerdon before my eyes, and hear the -sing-song of Tweed running through the meadows. I thought of golden -afternoons in the woods of Dawyck, or the holms of Lyne, of how the -yellow light used to make the pools glow, and the humming of bees was -mingled with the cry of snipe and the song of linnet. As I walked the -deck there were many pictures of like nature before me. I thought of -the winter expeditions at Barns, when I went out in the early morning to -the snow-clad hills with my gun, with Jean Morran's dinner of cakes and -beef tightly packed in my pocket; and how I was wont to come in at the -evening, numb and frozen, with maybe a dozen white hares and duck over -my shoulder, to the great fire-lit hall and supper. Every thought of -home made it doubly dear to me. And more than all else, there was my -lady awaiting me, looking for the sight of my horse's head at the long -avenue of Dawyck. An old catch, which wandering packmen used to sing, -and which they called "The North Countree," ran in my head; and, as I -looked over the vessel's bowsprit, I found myself humming: - - "There's an eye that ever weeps, and a fair face will be fain - When I ride through Annan Water wi' my bonny bands again." - - -Then I fell to thinking of the house of Barns, and of the many things -which I should do were I home. There was much need of change in the -rooms, which had scarce been touched for years. Also I figured to -myself the study I should make, and the books which were to fill it. -Then out of doors there was need of planting on the hillsides and -thinning in the haughlands; and I swore I should have a new cauld made -in Tweed, above the island, for the sake of the fishing. All this and -more should I do "when I rode through Annan Water wi' my bonny bands -again." - -We left Rotterdam on the evening of one day, and sailed throughout the -day following; and since we had a fair wind and a stout ship, about noon -on the next we rounded the Bass and entered the Forth. I was filled -with great gladness to see my native land once more, and as for my -servant, I could scarce prevail upon him to keep from flinging his hat -into the sea or climbing to the masthead in the excess of his delight. -The blue Lomonds of Fife, the long ridge of the Lammermoors, and the -great battlements of the Pentlands were to me like honey in the mouth, -so long had I been used to flat lands. And beyond them I saw the line -of the Moorfoots, ending in Dundreich, which is a hill not five miles -from the town of Peebles. - -About three of the clock we entered Leith Roads and awaited the signals -for admission. "The Seamaw lies at the wast harbour for usual," said -the captain, "but there's something wrong thereaways the day, so we maun -e'en run into the east." So, soon amid a throng of barques at anchor -and small boats moving to and fro among them, we steered our course, and -in a very little lay against the grey, sea-washed walls of the east -quay. There we landed, after bidding farewell to the captain; and as my -feet touched the well-worn cobblestones, and I smelt the smell of tar -and herrings, I knew my own land. The broad twang of the fishermen, the -shrill yatter of the fishwives, the look of the black, red-tiled houses, -and the spires of the kirks--all was so Scots that it went straight to -my heart, and it was with a cheerful spirit that, followed by my -servant, I made for the inn of _The Three Herrings_, where I purposed to -sleep the night ere I rode to Tweeddale on the morrow. So much for -man's devices: this was to be to me the last day of quiet life for many -months. But as I briskly strode along the Harbour Walk, little I -foresaw of the dangers and troubles which awaited my coming. - - - - - BOOK III--THE HILLMEN - - - - CHAPTER I - - THE PIER O' LEITH - - -When I came to the door of _The Three Herrings_, I presented an imposing -sight, with Nicol at my side and two sailors at my back with my baggage. -The landlord, who was taking the afternoon air against the wall, made me -a civil greeting, and placed his hostel at my service, opining that I -was a stranger of consequence just come from abroad. So bidding my -servant settle with the men, I followed my host upstairs to a room where -a fire was burning and some refreshment laid on the table. From below -came the clink of glasses and the snatch of a song. The sun poured in -at the open window; a girl in the street was singing the "Fishwives' -Rant"; and all the world seemed in gay spirits. - -An excellent supper was brought, on which I fell like a hawk, for the -sea air had sharpened my hunger, and landward dishes are better than the -meat of a ship. I bade the landlord let no one enter save my servant, -for that I desired to be alone. Then I fell to summing up my monies, -and various calculations of a like nature, which it was proper to make -on my return; and, finally, I pushed away my chair from the table, and, -filling my glass, gave myself up to pleasing fancies. - -It was near the darkening, as I saw from the window which opened on the -back yard, and which at that hour was filled with the red glow of -sunset. The chimneys on the tall houses rose like spikes into the still -air, and somewhere in the place a bell was ringing for I know not what. -Below in the room I heard many mingled voices, and a high imperious tone -as of one accustomed to authority. I guessed that some body of soldiers -was filling the tap-room. I was in a fine, contented frame of mind, -well pleased with the present, and looking cheerfully forward to the -morrow. By and by I began to wish for Nicol's presence and to wonder at -his long absence. - -I was just approaching a state of irritation with my servant when the -door was softly opened and the defaulter appeared. His face struck me -with surprise, for, whereas for usual it was merry and careless, it was -now filled with grave concernment. He closed the latch quietly behind -him, and then slipped the bolt, locked the door, and pocketed the key. - -I stared in silent amazement. - -"If it comes to the warst," he said, "we can fecht for 't." - -"What fooling is this?" said I. "Tell me at once, and have done with -it. - -"It's nae fooling, Laird, as ye'll be finding oot. Sit still, for I've a -long story to tell ye." And, having first listened for a noise from -below, he began his news, while I listened in much trepidation. - -"I paid the men as ye tellt me, and syne I gaed doun to my cousin's shop -i' the Rope-Walk, just to speir if they were a' weel; and then I cam' -back to the inn, thinking to get a bit quiet gless a' by mysel' i' the -chimley corner. But when I gaed into the room I fand it filled wi' -muckle sodger folk, drinking and sweering like deevils. And the first -man I clappit eyes on was yin Jock Cadder, whae was yince a freend o' -mine, so sitting doun aside Jock, I fell into crack. - -"Weel, I hadna been there mony meenutes when I hears a loud voice frae -the ither end calling for a song. And anither voice answered, no sae -loud, but weak and thin. I jumpit up in my seat, for the voices were -weel kenned to me. And there I saw at the ither end o' the table your -wanchancy cousin the Captain, sitting glowrin' wi' his muckle een and -playing wi' his gless. And aside him was nae ither than Maister Michael -Veitch, him o' Dawyck, but no like what he used to be, but a' red aboot -the een, and fosy aboot the face, like a man that's ower fond o' the -bottle." - -My heart leaped with a sudden terror at the news. What on earth was -Marjory's brother doing on the Pier o' Leith in the company of my most -bitter foe? A great sense of coming ill hung over me as Nicol went on. - -"Weel, I was astonished; and speaking quiet in Jock Cadder's ear, I asks -him what it meant, and what the twae were daein' here. And this is what -I heard from him, for Jock never jaloused I had aught to dae wi' ye, but -thocht I was aye the same auld hide-i'-the-heather I had been afore. -'When our Captain cam back frae furrin pairts,' says he, 'he gangs off -to Tweeddale, your ain countryside, for it seems there's a lassie there -he's awfu' fond o'. She's the dochter o' auld Veitch o' Dawyck, rich, -and, by a' accoont, terrible bonny. But she's trysted to the Captain's -cousin, Burnet o' Barns, whae has been in Holland for mair nor a year. -It's weel kenned that Maister Gilbert Burnet, when he gets a ploy intil -his heid, never stops till he wins his purpose; so he sets himsel' to -mak love to the lass. And he couldna dae this unless he were weel in -favour wi' her brother Michael, so he begins by winnin' him ower to his -side. Noo Michael Veitch (that's him up there) was aye uncommon fond o' -wine and yill o' a' description, so the Captain leads him on and on by -drinkin' wi' him at a' times, till noo the man is fair helpless. But -this wasna a', for if John Burnet cam hame and fund this gaun on, he wad -mak a rare camsteery, and, by a' accoont, he's a stieve dour chiel. So -Maister Gilbert, whae's high in favour wi' the Privy Council, gangs and -tells them o' some daeings o' his cousin's abroad, o' some hobnobbing -and plotting wi' rebels and outlawed folk, and sending treasonable -letters to this land under his name; so he gets a warrant for the lad's -arrest as sune as he sets foot on Scots earth--and a'body kens what that -means, that he'll no be troubled muckle mair wi' his cousin in this -warld. That's the reason we're doun here the day. We've had word that -he's coming ower i' the Seamaw, whilk lies at the wast harbour. We've -been sending doun word thae last 'oors, but she's no in there yet, and -'ill no be noo till the morn.' - -"That was what Jock Cadder tellt me, and I warrant I was in a fine -fricht. It was clear the Captain had nae mind o' me, for he lookit twae -or three times my way, and never changed his face. I slips oot the door -wi'oot being noticed, and cam up here wi' a' speed to tell ye the tale. -So, Laird, ye're in a close hole, and there's just some auld wooden -planking atween you and the Tolbooth." - -I cared little for the Tolbooth or anything else. One thing, and one -alone, claimed all my attention. My whole soul was filled with a terror -of anxiety, of mad jealousy, and desperate fear for my lady's sake. This -was the cause of the letter, this the cause of her silence. I ground my -teeth in helpless fury, and could have found it in my heart to rush down -to Gilbert and choke the life in his throat. I was so appalled by the -monstrousness of the thing that I could scarce think. My own danger was -nothing, but that Marjory should be the sport of ruffians--the thing -overpowered me. It was too fearsome, too monstrous. - -One thing was clear--that I must go to her at once. If Gilbert Burnet -was on the Pier o' Leith, Marjory Veitch at Dawyck would be quit of his -company. Were I once there I could see her, and, perchance, save her. -I cannot write down my full trepidation. My fingers clutched at my -coat, and I could scarce keep my teeth from chattering. It was no -fright that did it, but an awful sickening anxiety preying on my vitals. -But with an effort I choked down my unrest, and centred all my thoughts -on the present. Were I only in Tweeddale I might yet find a way out of -the trouble. But woe's me for the change in my prospects! I had come -home thinking in the pride of my heart to be welcomed by all and to cut -a great figure in my own countryside; and lo, I found myself an outlawed -man, whose love was in peril, and whose own craig was none so sure. The -sudden reversion all but turned my wits. - -I walked to the window and looked down. The night was now dark, but -below a glimmer from the taproom window lit the ground. It was a court -paved with cobblestones from the beach, where stood one or two waggons, -and at one end of which were the doors of a stable. Beyond that a -sloping roof led to a high wall, at the back of which I guessed was a -little wynd. Once I were there I might find my way through the back -parts of Leith to the country, and borrow a horse and ride to Tweeddale. -But all was hazardous and uncertain, and it seemed as if my chance of -safety was small indeed. I could but try, and if I must perish, why -then so it was fated to be. - -"Nicol," said I, "bide here the night to keep off suspicion, and come on -as soon as you can, for the days have come when I shall have much need -of you." - -"There's but ae thing to be dune, to tak to the hills, and if ye gang -onywhere from the Cheviots to the Kells, Nicol Plenderleith 'ill be wi' -ye, and ye need hae nae fear. I ken the hills as weel as auld Sawtan -their maister himsel'. I'll e'en bide here, and if ye ever win to -Dawyck, I'll no be lang ahint ye. Oh, if I could only gang wi' ye! But, -by God, if ye suffer aught, there'll be some o' His Majesty's dragoons -that'll dree their wierd." My servant spoke fiercely, and I was much -affected at the tenderness for me which it betokened. - -"If I never see you again, Nicol, you'll watch over Marjory? Swear, -man, swear by all that's sacred that you'll do my bidding." - -"I swear by the Lord God Almighty that if ye come to ony scaith, I'll -send the man that did it to Muckle Hell, and I'll see that nae ill comes -ower Mistress Marjory. Keep an easy mind, Laird; I'll be as guid as my -word." - -Without more ado I opened the window and looked out. My servant's talk -of taking to the hills seemed an over-soon recourse to desperate -remedies. Could I but remove my sweetheart from the clutches of my -rival, I trusted to prove my innocence and clear myself in the sight of -all. So my thoughts were less despairing than Nicol's, and I embarked -on my enterprise with good heart. I saw the ground like a pit of -darkness lie stark beneath me. Very carefully I dropped, and, falling -on my feet on the cobblestones, made such a clangour beneath the very -taproom window that I thought the soldiers would have been out to grip -me. As it was, I heard men rise and come to the window; and, crouching -far into the lee of the sill, I heard them talk with one another. "Tut, -tut, Jock," I heard one say, "it is nothing but a drunken cadger come to -seek his horse. Let be and sit down again." When all was quiet I stole -softly over to the other side, that I might scale the wall and reach the -wynd, for I dare not pass through the open close into the Harbour Walk -lest I should be spied and questioned by the soldiers who were ever -lounging about. - -But some fortunate impulse led me to open the stable door. A -feebly-burning lantern hung on a peg, and there came from the stalls the -noise of horses champing corn. They were the raw-boned hacks of the -soldiers, sorry beasts, for the increase of the military in the land had -led to a dearth of horses. But there was one noble animal at the right, -slim of leg and deep of chest, with a head as shapely as a maiden's. I -rushed hotly forward, for at the first glance I had known it for my own -mare Maisie, the best in all Tweeddale. A fine anger took me again to -think that my cousin had taken my steed for his own mount. I had sent -it back to Barns, and, forsooth, he must have taken it thence in spite -of the vigilant Tam Todd. But I was also glad, for I knew that once I -had Maisie forth of the yard, and were on her back, and she on the -highway, no animal ever foaled could come up with her. So I gave up all -my designs on the wall, and fell to thinking how best I could get into -the Harbour Walk. - -There was but one way, and it was only a chance. But for me it was neck -or nothing, my love or a tow in the Grassmarket; so I tossed my plumed -hat, my sword, and my embroidered coat on a heap of hay, tore open my -shirt at the neck, put a piece of straw between my lips, and soon was a -very tolerable presentment of an ostler or farrier of some kind. So -taking Maisie's bridle--and at my touch she thrilled so that I saw she -had not forgotten me--I led her boldly across the court, straddling in -my walk to counterfeit some fellow whose work was with horses. My heart -beat wildly as I went below the archway and confronted the knots of -soldiers, who, sitting on a low bench or leaning against the wall, were -engaged in loud talk and wrangling. - -"Ho, you, fellow, where are you going with the Captain's horse?" cried -one. I knew by his tone that the man was a Southron, so I had little -fear of detection. - -"I'm gaun to tak it to the smiddy," said I, in my broadest speech. "The -Captain sent doun word to my maister, Robin Rattle, in the Flesh Wynd, -that the beast was to be ta'en doun and shod new, for she was gaun far -the neist day. So I cam up to bring it." - -The man looked satisfied, but a question suggested itself to him. - -"How knew you the one, if you were never here before?" - -"It was the best beast i' the place," I said simply; and this so put his -mind at rest that, with a gratuitous curse, he turned round, and I was -suffered to go on unmolested. - -Down the Harbour Walk I led her, for I dared not mount lest some stray -trooper recognised the mare and sought to interrogate me. Very quietly -and circumspectly I went, imitating a stableman by my walk and carriage -as I best knew how, till in ten minutes I came to the end, and, turning -up the Fisherrow, came into Leith Walk and the borders of Edinburgh. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - HOW I RODE TO THE SOUTH - - -The night was full of wind, light spring airs, which rustled and -whistled down every street and brought a promise of the hills and the -green country. The stars winked and sparkled above me, but I had no mind -to them or aught else save a grey house in a wood, and a girl sitting -there with a heavy heart. 'Faith, my own was heavy enough as I led -Maisie through the West Vennel, shunning all but the darkest streets, -for I knew not when I might be challenged and recognised, losing my way -often, but nearing always to the outskirts of the town. Children -brawled on the pavement, lights twinkled from window and doorway, the -smell of supper came out of chink and cranny. But such things were not -for me, and soon I was past all, and near the hamlet of Liberton and the -highway to Tweeddale. - -Now there was safety for me to mount, and it was blessed to feel the -life between my knees and the touch of my mare's neck. By good luck I -had found her saddled and bridled, as if some careless, rascally groom -had left her untouched since her arrival. But I would have cared little -had there been no equipment save a bridle-rope. I could guide a horse -on the darkest night by the sway of my body, and it was not for nothing -that I had scrambled bareback about the hills of Barns. Maisie took the -road with long, supple strides, as light and graceful as a bird. The -big mass of Pentland loomed black before me; then in a little it fell -over to the right as we advanced on our way. The little wayside -cottages went past like so many beehives; through hamlet and village we -clattered, waking the echoes of the place, but tarrying not a moment, -for the mare was mettlesome, and the rider had the best cause in the -world for his speed. Now this errand which seems so light, was, in -truth, the hardest and most perilous that could be found. For you are to -remember that I was a man proscribed and all but outlawed, that any -chance wayfarer might arrest me; and since in those troubled times any -rider was suspected, what was a man to say if he saw one dressed in -gentleman's apparel, riding a blood horse, coatless and hatless? Then, -more, all the way to Peebles lay through dangerous land, for it was the -road to the southwest and the Whigs of Galloway, and, since the Pentland -Rising, that part had been none of the quietest. Also it was my own -country, where I was a well-kenned man, known to near everyone, so what -might have been my safety in other times, was my danger in these. This, -too, was the road which my cousin Gilbert had travelled from Barns, and -well watched it was like to be if Gilbert had aught to do with the -matter. But the motion of my mare was so free, the air so fine, the -night so fair, and my own heart so passionate, that I declare I had -forgotten all about danger, and would have ridden down the High Street -of Edinburgh, if need had been, in my great absence of mind. - -I was recalled to my senses by a sudden warning. A man on horseback -sprang out from the shelter of a plantation, and gripped my bridle. I -saw by the starlight the gleam of a pistol-barrel in his hand. - -"Stop, man, stop! there's nae sic great hurry. You and me 'ill hae some -words. What hae ye in your pouches?" - -Now I was unarmed, and the footpad before me was a man of considerable -stature and girth. I had some remnants of sense left in me, and I -foresaw that if I closed with him, besides the possibility of getting a -bullet in my heart, the contest would take much time, and would have an -uncertain ending. I was fairly at my wit's end what with hurry and -vexation, when the thought struck me that the law and military which I -dreaded, were also the terror of such men as this. I made up my mind to -throw myself on his mercy. Forbye, being a south-country man, the odds -were great that my name would be known to him. - -"I have no money," I said, "for I came off this night hot-speed, with a -regiment of dragoons waiting behind me. I am the Laird of Barns, in -Tweeddale, and this day an outlaw and a masterless man. So I pray you -not to detain me, for there's nothing on me worth the picking. I have -not a groat of silver, and, as you see, I ride in my shirt." - -"Are ye the Laird o' Barns?" said the man, staring. "Man, I never kent -it or I wadna hae been sae unceevil as to stop ye. Be sure that I'm wi' -ye, and sae are a' guid fellows that likena thae langnebbit dragoons and -thae meddlesome brocks o' lawyers in Embro. Gang your ways for me. But -stop, ye've nae airms. This 'ill never dae. Tak yin o' my pistols, for -I'll never miss it. And see, gin ye tak my advice and gin ye're gaun to -Barns, gang off the Peebles road at Leadburn, and haud doun by the -Brochtoun and Newlands ways, for a' the way atween Leadburn and Peebles -is hotchin' wi' sodgers and what-ye-may-ca'-thems. Guid e'en to ye, and -a safe journey." The man rode off and almost instantly was lost to my -sight; but his act gave me assurance that there was still some good left -in the world, though in the most unlikely places. - -And now I saw before me the black woods of Rosslyn and Hawthornden, and -in the near distance the roofs of the clachan of Penicuik. There I knew -danger would await me, so taking a random turning to the right, I struck -towards the hills in the direction of Glencorse. The place was rough -and moory, and full of runlets of water, but Maisie was well used to -such land, for it was no worse than the haughs of Manor, and level turf -compared with the brow of the Deid Wife or the shoulder of Scrape. So -in a little, when the lights of Penicuik were well on the left, I came -to the Hawes Burn, which passes the Inn of Leadburn, and tracking it -downward, came to the bald white house which does duty for a hostel. - -I dared not enter, though I was wofully thirsty, but kept straight on to -the crossroads where the two paths to Tweeddale part asunder. One--the -way by which I had gone when I set out on my travels--goes over the moor -and down by the springs of the Eddleston Water, through the village of -that name, and thence down the vale to Peebles. The other, longer and -more circuitous, cuts straight over the rough moorlands to the little -village of Newlands, then over much wild country to Kirkurd, and the -high hills which hem in the hamlet of Broughton, whence it is but five -miles to the house of Dawyck. It is a road which I have always hated as -being dismal and wild beyond any of my knowledge, but now I was glad to -be on it, for every step brought me nearer to my love. - -The country, in the main, is desolate heather and bog, with here and -there a white cot-house where dwells a shepherd. Of late I hear that -many trees have been planted and the bogs are being drained, but at the -time I speak of, all was still in its virginal wildness. The road, by a -good chance, is dry and easy to find, else there had been difficulties -awaiting me. The night was clear and sharp, and a bright moon made the -path as plain as daylight. I found time to curse that moon whenever I -neared human dwellings, and to bless it heartily when I was in the -desert morasses again. - -In a little I saw a hilltop which, by its broad, flat shape I knew for -the Black Mount, which lies above the village of Dolphinton on the way -to the west country. This is a landmark of great note in the -countryside, and now I could guess my whereabouts. I made out that I -must be scarce two miles from the jumble of houses lining the highway -which is named Kirkurd, at which spot the road fords the deep, sullen -stream of Tarth. Now this same Tarth a little way down flows into the -Lyne, which enters Tweed almost opposite the house of Barns. At other -times I had ridden the path down its side, for it is many miles the -shorter way. But I knew well that Barns would be watched like the -courtyard of the Parliament House, and I durst not for my life venture -near it. I deemed it unprofitable to run the risk of capture for the -sake of an hour or two saved. So after passing Kirkurd, I held straight -on over the black moors which lie towards the watershed of the Broughton -burn. - -Now by good luck I had dismounted just after the bridge and buckled -Maisie's girth tight and eased the saddle, for I suspected that now I -was entering the more dangerous country. The issue showed that I had -guessed rightly, for just at the sharp turn of the road over the Hell's -Cleuch burn, I came near to my end. I was riding carelessly at a rapid -pace through the thick wood of pines which cloaks the turn, when -suddenly, ere ever I knew, I was into the middle of a detachment of -horse riding leisurely in the sime direction. - -I do not well know how I acted, save that my pistol went off in the -mellay, and I saw a man clap his hand to his shoulder in a vast hurry -and swear freely. Half a dozen hands were stretched to my bridle, half a -dozen pistols covered me at once. Now I had no leave to use my hands, -my pistol I had fired, so I was wholly at their mercy. What happened I -can only guess, for I was in too great a flurry to have any clear -remembrance of the thing. I was conscious of striking one man fiercely -on the cheek with my empty pistol, and of kicking another on the shins -with all my might. But my sudden appearance had startled the horses so -thoroughly that all the soldiers' time was taken up in curbing them, so -they had no leisure to take aim at me. A dozen shots cracked around me, -all going high into the air, and in a second I was through them and on -the highroad beyond, some twenty paces in advance. - -But by this time they were getting their horses under, and I felt that -there was no time to be lost if I wished to see many more days on the -earth. I patted Maisie's neck, which to a beast of her spirit was the -best encouragement, and set myself to a race for life. I kicked off my -great boots to ease her, and then, leaning forward, began the trial of -speed. Behind me I heard shouting and the beat of horses getting into -their stride. Before me was the long, thin highway, and black hills, -and endless peatmosses. I had half a mind to leave the road and ride -for the hills, where I made sure no man of them could ever follow me. -But I reflected that this would shut for me the way to Dawyck, and I -should have to lie hid in these regions for weeks, for when my path was -once seen they would guard it more closely. My only chance was to -outstrip them and so keep the country open before me. - -Now began the most terrible and desperate race that I was ever engaged -in. I had tried my cousin Gilbert and beaten him on the side of Scrape; -now his men were taking revenge for that episode in good earnest. At -this time I was no more than out of pistol shot, and though I kept this -interval, and all their balls fell short, it was an unpleasing thing to -be riding with shots behind you, any one of which, for all you knew, -might lodge in your spine. So I strained every nerve to increase the -distance. - -Maisie responded gallantly to my call. I felt her long, supple swing -below me and the gathering of her limbs. I began to glory in the -exhilaration of the thing, and my spirits rose at a bound. The keen, -cool air blew about my face, the moonlight danced on the mare's neck, -and the way in front was a long strip of light. Sometimes I could not -tell whether or not I was dreaming. Sometimes I thought I was back in -Holland asleep in the garden, and that all this shifting pageant of -light and scenery, these cries and shots behind, and this long, measured -fall of hooves were but the process of a dream. I experienced the most -acute enjoyment, for all heavy cares for the future were driven away by -the excitement of the chase. It was glorious, I thought, and I cared -not a straw for the loss of place and fortune if the free life of the -open air and the hills was to be mine. It was war to the hilt between -my cousin and myself; both had flung away the scabbards; but I would -master him yet and show him which was the better man. He should learn -that John Burnet was never so strong as when he was most sorely pressed. - -But this braggadocio exhilaration soon passed, and in its place came -some measure of forethought. I reflected that though I might distance -my pursuers and win to Dawyck, I would surely be tracked, and so bring -misfortune on my mistress and myself. I had as yet no clear plans for -the future. I had already all but burned my boats, for this night's -work was like to get me into trouble on its own account. The wild -notion of fleeing to the hills and trusting to God for the rest -commended itself to me more and more. But one thing I must do--abide at -Dawyck till such time as Nicol should be able to join me. I had the -most perfect trust in him; I had proved him a hundred times, and I knew -well that if mortal man could do aught to mend my fortunes, he could do -it. So with this thought I matured a plan for the present. I must put -forth all my speed and win clean away from my pursuers. Now at -Broughton there was an inn, where abode an honest man, one Joshua -Watson, who had oft had dealings with me in the past. He was an old -retainer of my house, and I knew that he would see his roof and gear in -a blaze before his eyes ere he would see any harm come to a laird of -Barns. To him I purposed to go and hide till the dragoons had passed. -They had not recognised me, I knew, for they were not men of our -countryside; and if left to themselves, would keep the highway to -Moffat, and have never a thought of turning aside into Tweeddale. - -I whispered something to Maisie, and the good mare set herself to the -task. She was still unjaded, for I had used her to long wanderings, and -she had not forgotten the lesson. I listened to her steady, rhythmical -breath and the measured beat of her hooves, and I thanked Heaven that I -had chanced on her. At first they were maybe an eighth of a mile -behind. Soon the distance increased, little by little at first, then by -more and more as my mare got into her long gallop and their coarse -beasts began to tire. We passed the little lonely cot of Lochurd, -nestling under great green hills where the sheep bleat and the plovers -cry alway. Then on by the lonely bog where men came once to dig marl -and left a monstrous wide pit, filled with black water and with no -bottom. I paused for a second to let Maisie drink from a burn which -comes down from the Mount Hill. Soon we were at the turning where the -road to Biggar and the West goes off from the highway. Here I stopped -to listen for a moment. Far off and faint I heard the noise of my -pursuers, and judged they were near a mile distant. Then off again; and -now the road inclines downward, and as one rises over the crest of brae, -which the shepherds call the Ruchill End, there bursts on the sight all -the vast circle of hills, crowded and piled together, which marks the -course of Tweed. Down the little glen of Broughton I rode, while the -burn made music by the highway, and it was hard to think that death -awaited a little behind. Soon the moors sank into fields, trees and -cottages appeared, a great stone mill rose by the water, and I clattered -into the village of Broughton. - -The place was asleep, and, as I drew up at the inn, but one light was -apparent. I hammered rudely at the door till the landlord came, sleepy -and yawning, and bearing a candle in his hand. At the sight of me he -started, for my danger was known over all Tweeddale. In a few words I -told him of my pursuit and my request. He was a man of sparing speech, -and, saying nothing, he led me to the barn and showed me a hole in a -great bank of straw. Maisie he took to the stable. "Ha'e nae fear," he -said. "Trust me, I'll settle the hash o' thae gentry." - -Sure enough, I had not been two minutes in the place when I heard voices -and the sound of horses, and creeping to the narrow, unglazed window, -saw the dragoons draw up at the inn-door. Much shouting brought down -the landlord, who made a great show of weariness, and looked like one -just aroused from sleep. - -"Heard you or saw you any man pass on horseback about five minutes -syne?" they asked. - -"I daresay I did," said he. "At ony rate, I heard the sound o' a horse, -and it's verra likely it was on the Moffat road. There's a hantle o' -folk pass by here at a' 'oors." - -"Ye're sure he didna come in here?" they said again. "We'll search the -house to see." - -"Weel," said the landlord, "ye can dae as ye like, but it seems a gey -fule's errand. I tell ye it's lang past midnight, and we've a' been -asleep here, and naebody could hae gotten in unless I had opened the -door, for I hae a' the keys. But come and look, gentlemen, and I'll -fetch ye some yill." - -They drank the ale, and then seemed to think better of their purpose, -for they remounted. "He'll be aff to the hills at the heid o' Tweed," -they said. "He would never, gin he had ony sense, gang doun Tweeddale, -where there's nae hiding for man or beast." So with many wanton oaths -they set off again at a lazy gallop. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - THE HOUSE OF DAWYCK - - -I knew well that I had little time to lose, and that what must be done -must be done quickly. So as soon as the tails of them were round the -hillside, I came out from my hiding-place and mounted Maisie once more. -I thanked the landlord, and with a cry that I would remember him if I -ever got my affairs righted again, I turned sharply through the burn and -down the path to Peebles. It was touch or miss with me, for it was -unlikely that the highway between the west country and the vale of -Peebles would be freed from the military. - -Yet freed it was. It may have been that the folk of Tweedside were -little caring about any religion, and most unlike the dour carles of the -Westlands, or it may have been that they were not yet stirring. At any -rate I passed unmolested. I struck straight for the ridge of Dreva, and -rounding it, faced the long valley of Tweed, with Rachan woods and -Drummelzier haughs and the level lands of Stobo. Far down lay the -forest of Dawyck, black as ink on the steep hillside. Down by the Tweed -I rode, picking my way very carefully among the marshes, and guarding -the deep black moss-holes which yawned in the meadows. Here daybreak -came upon us, the first early gleam of light, tingling in the east, and -changing the lucent darkness of the moonlit night to a shadowy grey -sunrise. Scrape raised his bald forehead above me, and down the glen I -had a glimpse of the jagged peaks of the Shieldgreen Kips, showing sharp -against the red dawn. In a little I was at the avenue of Dawyck, and -rode up the green sward, with the birds twittering in the coppice, eager -to see my love. - -The house was dead as a stone wall, and no signs of life came from -within. But above me a lattice was opened to catch the morning air. I -leapt to the ground and led Maisie round to the stables which I knew so -well. The place was deserted; no serving-man was about; the stalls -looked as if they had been empty for ages. A great fear took my heart. -Marjory might be gone, taken I knew not whither. I fled to the door as -though the fiend were behind me, and knocked clamorously for admittance. -Far off in the house, as it were miles away, I heard footsteps and the -opening of doors. They came nearer, and the great house-door was opened -cautiously as far as possible without undoing the chain; and from within -a thin piping inquired my name and purpose. - -I knew the voice for the oldest serving-man who dwelt in the house. - -"Open, you fool, open," I cried. "Do you not know me? The Laird of -Barns?" - -The chain was unlocked by a tremulous hand. - -"Maister John, Maister John," cried the old man, all but weeping. "Is't -yoursel' at last? We've had sair, sair need o' ye. Eh, but she'll be -blithe to see ye." - -"Is your mistress well?" I cried with a great anxiety. - -"Weel eneuch, the puir lass, but sair troubled in mind. But that'll a' -be bye and dune wi', noo that ye're come back." - -"Where is she? Quick, tell me," I asked in my impatience. - -"In the oak room i' the lang passage," he said, as quick as he could -muster breath. - -I knew the place, and without more words I set off across the hall, -running and labouring hard to keep my heart from bursting. Now at last -I should see the dear lass whom I had left. There was the door, a -little ajar, and the light of a sunbeam slanting athwart it. - -I knocked feebly, for my excitement was great. - -"Come," said that voice which I loved best in all the world. - -I entered, and there, at the far end of the room, in the old chair in -which her father had always sat, wearing the dark dress of velvet which -became her best, and with a great book in her lap, was Marjory. - -She sprang up at my entrance, and with a low cry of joy ran to meet me. -I took a step and had her in my arms. My heart was beating in a mighty -tumult of joy, and when once my love's head lay on my shoulder, I cared -not a fig for all the ills in the world. I cannot tell of that meeting; -even now my heart grows warm at the thought; but if such moments be -given to many men, there is little to complain of in life. - -"O John," she cried, "I knew you would come. I guessed that every -footstep was yours, coming to help us. For oh! there have been such -terrible times since you went away. How terrible I cannot tell you," -and her eyes filled with tears as she looked in mine. - -So we sat down by the low window, holding each other's hands, thinking -scarce anything save the joy of the other's presence. The primroses -were starring the grass without, and the blossom coming thick and fast -on the cherry trees. So glad a world it was that it seemed as if all -were vanity save a dwelling like the Lotophagi in a paradise of -idleness. - -But I quickly roused myself. It was no time for making love when the -enemy were even now at the gates. - -"Marjory, lass," I said, "tell me all that has been done since I went -away." - -And she told me, and a pitiful tale it was--that which I had heard from -Nicol, but more tragic and sad. I heard of her brother's ruin, how the -brave, generous gentleman, with a head no better than a weathercock, had -gone down the stages to besotted infamy. I heard of Gilbert's masterful -knavery, of his wooing at Dawyck, and how he had despoiled the house of -Barns. It seemed that he had spent days at Dawyck in the company of -Michael Veitch, putting my poor Marjory to such a persecution that I -could scarce bide still at the hearing of it. He would importune her -night and day, now by gallantry and now by threats. Then he would seek -to win her favour by acts of daring, such as he well knew how to do. -But mostly he trusted to the influence of her brother, who was his aider -and abetter in all things. I marvelled how a gentleman of family could -ever sink so low as to be the servant of such cowardice. But so it was, -and my heart was sore for all the toils which the poor girl had endured -in that great, desolate house, with no certain hope for the future. She -durst not write a letter, for she was spied on closely by her -tormentors, and if she had bade me return, they well knew I would come -with the greatest speed, and so in knowing the time of my arrival, would -lay hands on me without trouble. The letter which reached me was sealed -under her brother's eyes and the postscript was added with the greatest -pains and sent by Tam Todd, who sat at Barns in wrath and impotence. -Truly things had gone wrong with a hearty good-will since I had ridden -away. - -But the matter did not seem much better now that I had returned. I was -an outlawed man, with no dwelling and scarce any friends, since the men -of my own house were either hostile or powerless to aid. My estates were -a prey to my enemies. I had naught to trust to save my own good fortune -and a tolerably ready sword, and, to crown all, my love was in the -direst danger. If she abode at Dawyck the bitter persecution must be -renewed, and that the poor maid should suffer this was more than I could -endure. I had no fear of her faithfulness, for I knew of old her -steadfast heart and brave spirit, but I feared my cousin as I feared no -other on earth. He cared not a fig for the scruples of ordinary men, -and he was possessed of a most devilish cunning, before which I felt -powerless as a babe. Yet I doubtless wronged him by suspicion, for, -after all, he was a Burnet, and fought openly as a man of honour should. -But he had a gang of marauding ruffians at his heels, and God alone knew -what might happen. - -At all events, I must wait till what time my servant Nicol should arrive -from Leith. I had no fear of his failing, for he had the readiest wit -that ever man had, and I verily believe the longest legs. He should be -at Dawyck ere noonday, when he should advise me as to my course. Nor -was there any immediate danger pressing, for so long as Gilbert abode at -Leith he could not come to Dawyck, and unless our schemes grievously -miscarried, he could not yet have been apprised of my escape. Moreover, -the soldiers to whom I had given the slip the night before, could as yet -have no inkling either of my identity or my present harbour. So for the -meantime I was safe to meditate on the future. - -Marjory, woman-like, was assured that now I had come back her sorrows -were at an end. She would hear nothing of danger to be. "Now that you -are here, John," she would say, "I am afraid of nothing. I do not care -if Gilbert return and plague me a thousandfold more; I shall well -support it if I know that you are in the land. It is for you I fear, -for what must you do save go to the hills and hide like the hillmen in -caves and peatbogs? It is surely a sad use for your learning, sir." - -So the morning passed so quickly that I scarce knew it. We went -together to a little turret-room facing the north and fronting the broad -avenue which all must pass who come to the house; and here we waited for -the coming of Nicol. I felt a fierce regret as I looked away over the -woods and meadows to the little ridge of hills beyond which lay Barns, -and saw the fair landscape all bathed in spring sunshine. It was so -still and peaceful that I felt a great desire to dwell there with -Marjory in quiet, and have done forever with brawling and warfare. I -had come home from the Low Countries with a longing for the plain -country life of Tweeddale, such as I had been bred to. I was prepared -in heart to get ready my fishing-rods and see to my guns, and begin -again my long-loved sports. But harsh fate had decreed otherwise, and I -was to fare forth like a partridge on the mountains, and taste the joys -of the chase in a new manner. But at the thought my spirits rose again. -I would love dearly to play a game of hide-and-go-seek with my cousin -Gilbert, and so long as I had my sword and my wits about me, I did not -fear. My one care was Marjory, and this, in truth, was a sore one. I -cursed my cousin right heartily, and all his belongings, and vowed, deep -down in my heart, to recompense him some day for all his doings. - -It is true that all this while it lay open to me to brazen it out before -His Majesty's Council, and try to clear my name from guilt. But as the -hours passed this method grew more distasteful to me. There I should be -in a strange place among enemies and scenes of which I knew nothing. -Innocent though I might be, it was more than likely that I should find -myself worsted. More, it seemed the gallanter thing to contest the -matter alone among the hills, a fight between soldiers, with no solemn -knaves to interfere. So by this time I had all but resolved on the -course which my servant had first advised. - -About twelve of the clock we saw a long figure slinking up the avenue, -keeping well in the shade of the trees, and looking warily on all sides. -I knew my man, and going down to the door, I set it open, and waited for -his coming. Nor did I wait long. When he saw me he changed his walk for -a trot, and came up breathing hard, like a hound which has had a long -run. I led him into the dining-hall, and Marjory prepared for him food -and drink. Never a word spoke he till he had satisfied his hunger. -Then he pushed back his chair, and looking sadly at my lady, shook his -head as though in dire confusion. - -"A bonny bigging, Maister John," he said, "but ye'll sune hae to leave -it." - -"That's a matter on which I have waited for your coming," said I, "but I -would hear how you fared since I left you." - -"I've nae guid news," he said sadly, "but such as they are ye maun e'en -hear them." - -And this was the tale he told. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - HOW MICHAEL VEITCH MET HIS END - - -"When you had gone oot," began Nicol, "I just waited till I heard your -footsteps gang oot o' the yaird. Syne I gaed dounstairs to the landlord, -whae is a decent, comfortable kind o' man wi' no muckle ill aboot him. -I telled him that my maister was terrible unweel, and on no accoont maun -be disturbit, but that he maun hae the room to himsel' for the nicht. -The man was verra vexed to hear aboot ye. 'Sae young a chiel,' says he, -'it's awfu'.' So I got my will, and I kenned I wad be troubled by nae -folk comin' and speirin' aboot the place. There was nae reason why I -shouldna gang awa' and leave the lawin', but I had a kind o' irkin' to -get anither glisk o' the sodgers, so I e'en gaed into the room aside -them. - -"They were noo mair uproarious than afore. Nane were drunk, for 'faith, -the Captain wasna the man to let his men dae that, but a' were geyan -wild and carin' little aboot their language. The Captain sits at the -heid o' the table sippin' his toddy wi' that dour stieve face o' his -that naething could move, and that ye think wad be ashamed to sae muckle -as lauch. But Maister Veitch wasna like him. He was singin' and roarin' -wi' the loudest, and takin' great wauchts frae the bowl, far mair than -was guid for him. - -"By and by he gets up on his feet. - -"'A health to the Captain,' he says. 'Drink, lads, to the welfare o' -that most valiant soldier and gentleman, Captain Gilbert Burnet. Ye a' -ken the errand ye're come on, to lay hands on a rebel and take him to -his proper place, and I drink to your guid success in the matter.' And -he lifts up his glass and spills some o' it ower the table. - -"At this there was a great uproar, and they a' rose wi' their glasses -and cried on the Captain. He sat a' the while wi' a sort o' scornfu' -smile on his face, as if he were half-pleased, but thocht little o' the -folk that pleased him. - -"'I thank you,' he says at last. 'I thank you all, my men, for your -good will. We have done well together in the past, and we'll do better -in time to come. I will prove to the rebel folk o' this land that -Gilbert Burnet will make them obey.' - -"'Faith, Gilbert,' says Maister Veitch, 'hae ye no the grace to speak o' -your verra guid friend? I think ye're beholden to me for a hantle o' -your success.' - -"The Captain looks at him wi' a glint o' guid humour. 'No more, -Michael,' says he, 'than the cook owes to the scullion. You do my dirty -work.' - -"'Dirty work, quotha,' cried Maister Veitch, who was hot and flustered -with wine. 'I wouldna tak that from any other than yoursel', Gilbert, -and maybe no from you.' - -"'Take it or not, just as you please,' said the Captain, scornfully. -'It's no concern o' mine.' - -"This angered the other, and he spoke up fiercely: - -"I am of as guid blood as yoursel', Gilbert Burnet. Is a Tweeddale -gentleman no as guid as a bit westland lairdie?" - -"'Faith, that is too much,' says the Captain. 'Michael, I'll make you -answer for this yet.' So he sat with lowered brows, while Maister -Veitch, to a' appearance, had forgotten the words he had spoken. - -"In a little the Captain dismisses the men to their sleeping-quarters, -and the pair were left alone, save for mysel', whae being in the dark -shadows near the door escaped the sicht o' a'. The two gentlemen sat at -the board eyeing each other with little love. By and by Gilbert speaks. - -"Ye called me a bit westland lairdie no long syne, Maister Veitch, if -ye'll be remembering.' - -"The ither looks up. 'And what if I did?' says he. 'Is't no the fact?' - -"'That it's no the fact I have a damned good mind to let you see,' says -the ither. - -"Michael looks at him askance. 'This is a gey queer way to treat your -friends. I've done a' in my power to aid you in a' your pliskies. I've -turned clean against the Laird o' Barns, who never did me ony ill, a' -for the sake o' you. And forbye that, I've done what I could to further -your cause wi' my sister, who is none so well inclined to you. And this -is a' the thanks I get for it, Gilbert?' - -"I saw by the dour face o' the Captain that he was mortal thrawn. - -"'And a' the thanks ye are likely to get,' says he. 'Is't no enough -that a man o' my birth and fame should be willing to mate wi' one o' -your paltry house, a set o' thieves and reivers wi' no claim to honour -save the exaltation o' the gallows-rope? Gad, I think it's a mighty -favour that I should be so keen to take the lass from among you.' - -"'By Heaven, that is too much to swallow!' said Maister Michael, as some -sparks o' proper feeling rose in him at last; and he struggled to his -feet. - -"The Captain also rose and looked at him disdainfully. - -"'What would you do?' said he. - -"'This,' said the other, clean carried wi' anger; and he struck him a -ringing lick on the face. - -"Gilbert went back a step, and (for his honour I say it) kept his wrath -doun. - -"'That's a pity,' says he; 'that was a bad action o' yours, Michael, as -ye'll soon ken. I'll trouble ye to draw.' - -"I hae felt vexed for mony folk in my life, but never for yin sae muckle -as puir Maister Veitch. He reddened and stumbled and plucked his sword -from its sheath. He was dazed wi' wine and drowsiness, but his enemy -made nocht o' that. - -"They crossed swirds and I watched them fall to. I was terrible feared, -for I saw fine that the yin was as angry as a bull, the ither as -helpless as a sheep. It was against a' decency to let sic a thing gang -on, so I ran forrit and cried on them to stop. 'D'ye no see the man's -fair helpless?' I cried out; but they never seemed to hear me, but went -at it as hard as ever. - -"At first baith fought nane sae bad, for baith were braw swordsmen, and -even in sic a plight Michael's skill didna desert him. Gilbert, too, -was quieter than was to be expectit. But of a sudden a wild fury seized -him. 'I'll teach ye to speak ill o' me and my house,' he cried in a -voice like thunder, and cam on like a storm o' hail. - -"Michael fell back and tried to defend himsel'. But the puir lad was sae -dazed and foundered that frae the first he had nae chance. His blade -wabbled at every guaird, and he never risked a cut. It was just like a -laddie gettin' his paiks frae a maister and keepin' off the clouts wi' -yae airm. - -"And then he let his sword drop, whether wi' weariness or no I canna -tell, and stood glowrin' afore him. The Captain never stopped. I dinna -think he ettled it, for when he began I think he didna mean mair than to -punish him for his words. But now he lunged clean and true. Nae sword -kept it aff, nae coat o' mail wardit it, but deep into Michael's breast -it sank. Wi' yae groan he fell back, and the breath gaed frae his body. - -"I could hardly contain mysel wi' rage and sorrow. At first I was for -rinnin' forrit and throttlin' the man, but I got a glimpse o' his face, -and that keepit me. It was dark as a thunder-clud, and regret and -unquenched anger lookit oot o' his een. - -"'This is a black business,' he says to himsel', 'a black damnable -business. God knows I never meant to kill the fool.' And he began to -walk up and down wi' his heid on his breast. - -"I felt that I had seen eneuch. My whole hert was sick wi' the peety o' -the thing, and forbye it was time for me to be going if I was ever to -win to Tweedside. So I slips frae the house, which was still quiet, for -naebody kenned o' the deed, and far away somewhere I heard the lilt o' a -sodger's song. I sped doun the Harbour Walk and syne into Embro', as -though the deil were ahint me. When I won to Auchendinny it was aboot -three in the mornin', and I made a' the haste I could. I think I maun -hae run a' the road frae there to Leidburn. Then I took ower the Cloch -hills and doun by Harehope and the Meldons. I crossed Lyne abune the -Brig, and came doun Stobo burn, and here I am. I never met a soul for -good or ill, so the land's quieter thereaways than folk make it oot. -But doun by the Eddleston Water there's a geyan nest o' sodgers, so -ye've nae time to lose, Laird, if ye wad win to the hills." - -When I turned to Marjory at the close of this tale she was weeping -silently; yet there was little bitterness in her tears. Her brother -had, after all, made a better end than one could have guessed from his -life. Indeed, I had small cause to feel kindness to him, for he had -betrayed his trust, and had been the author of all the ills which had -come upon my mistress. But for her sake I was sad. - -"Marjory," I said, "I have many scores to settle with my cousin, for all -his life he has done me ill, and the time will come when I shall pay -them. I will add this to the others. Be assured, dear, that your -brother shall not be unavenged." - -And Marjory dried her tears, and from that hour spake never a word of -Michael. But I knew well that deep in her heart remained an abiding -sorrow which chastened the gaiety of her spirits. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - I CLAIM A PROMISE, AND WE SEEK THE HILLS - - -And now I set myself resolutely to think out something that might be the -saving of my life and my love. I was in a perilous case, for when -Gilbert found that I had escaped him, he would come on forthwith to -Dawyck, and, in all likelihood, be here ere nightfall. One thing was -clear--that I could not bide myself nor leave Marjory to his tender -mercies. The hills for me; and for her--ah, that was the rub in the -matter! - -At last I made out some semblance of a plan. On the edge of Douglasdale, -in the shire of Lanark, dwelt William Veitch at the house of Smitwood, -the uncle of the dead Sir John, an old man well fallen in the vale of -years. He was unmolested by all, being a peaceable soldier who had -served God and the king in his day, and now thought of nothing save -making a good ending. He would gladly take the lass, I knew, and -shelter her till such time as I should come and take her again. Nor -would Gilbert follow her thither, for no word should come to his ear of -her destined harbour, and he knew naught of the place nor the -relationship. The plan came upon me with such convincing force that I -took no other thought on the matter. Nicol should be left there both as -a guard of the place--and who so vigilant?--and as some means of -communication between me and my mistress. For my own part, when once I -had seen my lass safely sheltered, I should take to the hills with a -light heart. I should love to be free and careless among the wide -moors, and try my wits in a fair contest against my sweet cousin. - -I told the thing to Nicol and he gladly agreed. Then I sought out -Marjory, who had gone to make some preparations for my flight, and found -her talking gravely to the old man, the only remaining servant. I drew -her to the little oak parlour. - -"Marjory, lass," I said, "I am but new come home, and I little thought -to have to take flight again so soon. Do you mind ere I went to the Low -Countries I came here to bid you farewell, and you sang me a song?" - -"I mind it well," said she. - -"Have you a remembrance of the air, my dear? How did it go?" and I -whistled a stave. - -"Ay, even so. You have a good ear, John." - -"I think, too, that I have mind of a verse or so," said I. "There was -one which ran like this: - - "'And if he were a soldier gay - And tarried from the town, - And sought in wars, through death and scars, - To win for him renown, - - I'd place his colours in my breast - And ride by moor and lea, - And win his side, there to abide - And bear him company.' - -Was it not so?" - -"Yes," she said, smiling; "how well you remember, John." - -"And there was a refrain, too," I went on. - - "'For sooth a maid, all unafraid, - Should by her lover be, - With wile and art to cheer his heart, - And bear him company.'" - - -Marjory blushed. "Why do you remind me of my old song?" she said. "It -pains me, for I used to sing it ere the trouble came upon us, and when -we were all as happy as the day was long." - -"Nay," I said, "it is a song for the time of trouble. It was your -promise to me, and I have come to claim its fulfilment. I am for the -hills, Marjory, and I cannot leave you behind. Will you come and bear -me company? I will take you to Smitwood, where even the devil and my -cousin Gilbert could not follow you. There you will be safe till I come -again when this evil time is past, for pass it must. And I will go to -the hills with a blithe heart, if once I knew you were in good keeping." - -"Oh, John, to be sure I will follow you," she said, "even to the world's -end. I will fare among rough hills and bogs if I may but be near you. -But I will go to Smitwood, for most terribly I dread this place." - -So it was all brought to a conclusion, and it but remained to make ready -with all speed and seek the uplands. We trusted ourselves wholly to -Nicol's guidance, for he knew the ways as he knew his own name, and had -a wide acquaintance with the hillmen and their hiding-places. On him it -lay to find shelter for us on the road and guide us by the most -unfrequented paths. So we set about the preparing of provisions and -setting the house in order. The old man, who was the sole servant -remaining, was left in charge of the place against our uncertain return. -For myself I should have taken but one horse, Marjory's roan mare, and -tramped along on foot; but Nicol bade me take Maisie, for, said he, -"I'll tak ye by little-kenned ways, where ye may ride as easy as walk; -and forbye, if it cam to the bit, a horse is a usefu' cratur for rinnin' -awa on. I could trot fine on my feet mysel', but though ye're a guid -man at the sma'-swird, Laird, I doubt ye'd no be muckle at that." The -words were wise, so I saddled Maisie and prepared to ride her to -Smitwood, and there leave her. - -It was, I think, about three hours after midday when we were ready to -start on our journey. A strange cavalcade we formed--Marjory on the -roan, dressed plainly as for the hills, and with a basket slung across -the saddlebow, for all the world like a tinker's pannier; I myself on -Maisie, well-mounted and armed, and Nicol on foot, lean and ill-clad as -ever. It was not without a pang that we set out, for it is hard to -leave the fair and settled dwellings of home for haphazard lodging among -rough morasses. Marjory in especial could scarce refrain from tears, -while I own that as I looked down the vale and saw the woods of Barns -and the green hills of Manor, I could have found it in me to be -despondent. - -But once we left the valley and began to ascend the slopes, our spirits -returned. It was an afternoon among a thousand, one such as only April -weather and the air of the Tweed valley can bring. The sky was -cloudless and the wind sharp, and every hill and ridge in the great -landscape stood out clear as steel. The grass was just greening beneath -our feet, the saugh bushes were even now assuming the little white -catkins, and the whole air was filled with a whistling and twittering of -birds. We took our road straight through the pine wood which clothes -the western slopes of Scrape. The ground was velvet-dry, and the deer -fled swiftly as we neared their coverts. It was glorious to be abroad -and feel the impulse of life stirring everywhere around. Yet I could -not keep from the reflection that at this very time the day before I had -been nearing the port of Leith in the Seamaw, expecting nothing save a -pleasant homecoming, and thereafter a life of peace. Truly in one short -day and night I had led a somewhat active life, and now was fleeing from -the very place I had most longed to return to. - -Soon we left the woods and came out on the heathery brow of Scrape, and -crossing it, entered the deep glen where the burn of Scrape flows to -join the Powsail. The heather had been burned, as is the custom here in -the early spring, and great clouds of fine white dust rose beneath the -hooves of our horses. A dry crackling of twigs and the strident creak of -the larger roots as they grated on one another, filled our ears. Then -once more we ascended, high and ever higher, over rocks and treacherous -green well-eyes and great spaces of red fern, till we gained the brow of -the hill which they call Glenstivon Dod, and looked down into the little -glen of Powsail. - -We crossed the lovely burn of Powsail, which is the most beautiful of -all Tweedside burns, since the water is like sapphire and emerald and -topaz, flashing in every ray like myriad jewels. Here we watered our -horses, and once more took the hills. And now we were on the wild ridge -of upland which heads the glens of Stanhope and Hopecarton and Polmood, -the watershed 'twixt the vales of Tweed and Yarrow. Thence the sight is -scarce to be matched to my knowledge in the south country of Scotland. -An endless stretching of hills, shoulder rising o'er shoulder, while -ever and again some giant lifts himself clean above his fellows, and all -the while in the glen at our feet Tweed winding and murmuring. - -I asked Nicol what was the purpose of our journey, for this was by no -means the shortest way to Douglasdale and Smitwood. He answered that to -go straight to our destination would be to run our heads into the lion's -mouth. He purposed that we should go up Tweed to a hiding-place which -he knew of on the Cor Water, and then make over by the upper waters of -the Clyde and the Abington moors to the house of Smitwood. These were -the more deserted and least accessible places, whereas the villages and -lowlands around the skirts of the hills were watched like the High -Street of Edinburgh. - -In a little we passed the wild trough where the Stanhope Burn flows -toward Tweed. It was now drawing toward the darkening, and the deep, -black glen seemed dark as the nether pit. Had we not had a guide to -whom the place was familiar as his own doorstep, we should soon have -been floundering over some craig. As it was, our case was not without -its danger. It is not a heartening thing to go stumbling on hilltops in -the dusk of an April evening, with black, horrific hill-slopes sinking -on all sides. Marjory grew frightened, as I knew by the tightened clutch -at her horse's rein, and her ever seeking to draw nearer me, but like -the brave lass that she was, she breathed never a word of it. Every now -and then an owl would swoop close to our faces, or a great curlew dart -out of the night with its shrill scream, and vanish again into the dark. -It was an uncanny place at that hour, and one little to be sought by -those who love comfort and peace. But the very difficulty of the way -gladdened us, for it gave us assurance that we would be unmolested by -wayfaring dragoons. By and by stars came out and the moon rose, -glorious and full as on the night before, when I had ridden from Leith. -Then it served to light my course to Dawyck, now to guide me from it. - -We were now descending a steep hillside, all rough with _sklidders_, and -coming to the Water of Talla, which we forded at a shallow a little -below the wild waterfall called Talla Linns. Even there we could hear -the roar of the cataract, and an awesome thing it was in that lonely -place. But we tarried not a minute, but urged our horses up a desperate -ravine till once more we were on the crest of the hills. And now a -different land was around us. Far to the right, where the Talla joins -the Tweed, we could mark the few lights of the little village of -Tweedsmuir. The higher hills had been left behind, and we were on a -wide expanse of little ridges and moor which the people of Tweedside -call "The Muirs," and which extends from the upper Clyde waters to the -source of the Annan and the monstrous hills which line its course. I -had been but once before in the place, in the winter time, when I was -shooting the duck which come here in great plenty. To me, then, it had -seemed the bleakest place in God's creation, but now, under the silver -moonlight, it seemed like a fantastic fairyland, and the long, gleaming -line of Tweed like the fabled river which is the entrance to that happy -domain. - -We were now near our journey's end, and in the very heart of the moors -of Tweed. The night was bright with moonlight, and we went along -speedily. Soon we came to a narrow upland valley, walled with -precipitous green hills. Here Nicol halted. - -"There'll be watchers aboot," he said, "and our coming 'ill hae been -tellt to the folk in the cave. We'd better gang warily." So we turned -our horses up the glen, riding along the narrow strip of meadowland -beside the burn. I had heard of the place before, and knew it for the -Cor Water, a stream famous for trout, and at this time, no less renowned -among the hillmen as a hiding-place. For in the steep craigs and screes -there were many caves and holes where one might lie hid for months. - -Soon we came to a steep, green bank, and here we drew rein. Nicol -whistled on his fingers, with a peculiar, piercing note like a whaup's -cry. It was answered by another from the near neighbourhood. Again -Nicol whistled with a different pitch, and this time a figure came out -as from the hillside, and spoke. - -"Whae are ye," he said, "that come here, and what do ye seek? If ye -come in the Lord's name, welcome and a night's lodging await ye. If no, -fire and a sword." - -"I'm Nicol Plenderleith," said my servant, "as weel ye ken, John -Laidlaw. And these are twae gentlefolk, whose names are no convenient -to be mentioned here, for hillsides hae ears. If ye come near, I'll -whisper it in your lug." - -The man approached and appeared well-satisfied. He bade us dismount and -led the horses off, while we waited. Then he returned, and bidding us -follow, led the way up a steep gully which scarred the hillside. In a -little he stopped at an out-jutting rock, and crept round the corner of -it. At the side next the hill was an opening large enough to allow a -man of ordinary stature to pass, and here he entered and motioned us to -follow. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - THE CAVE OF THE COR WATER - - -The place we found ourselves in was a narrow passage, very lofty and -very dark, and with countless jags of rough stone on all sides to -affront the stranger. Some few paces led us into a wider place, lit by -some opening on the hillside, for a gleam as of pale moonlight was all -about it. There stood a sentinel, a tall, grave man, dressed in coarse -homespun, and brown of the face. Through this again we passed into -another straitened place, which in a little opened into a chamber of -some magnitude. - -When I grew accustomed to the candle-light, I made out that it was a -natural cave in the whinstone rocks, maybe thirty feet in height, square -in shape, and not less than thirty feet long. The black sides were -rough and crusted, and hung in many parts with articles of household -gear and warlike arms. But the place was less notable than the people -who were sitting there, and greeted us as we entered. In the midst was -a table of rough-hewn wood, whereon lay the remnants of a meal. Lit -pine-staves cast an eerie glow over all things, and in the light I saw -the faces of the company clear. - -On a settle of stone covered with a sheep's fleece sat an old man, large -of limb and tall, but bent and enfeebled with age. His long hair fell -down almost to his shoulders; his features as the light fell upon them -were strong, but his eyes were sightless and dull as stone. He had a -great stick in his hand which he leaned on, and at our entrance he had -risen and stared before him into vacancy, conscious of some new -presence, but powerless to tell of it. Near him, along by the -table-side, were two men of almost like age, square, well-knit fellows, -with the tanned faces of hillmen. I guessed them to be shepherds or -folk of that sort who had fled to this common refuge. Beyond these again -stood a tall, slim man of a more polished exterior than the rest; his -attitude had something of grace in it, and his face and bearing -proclaimed him of better birth. Forbye, there were one or two more, -gaunt, sallow folk, such as I had learned to know as the extreme -religionists. These were busy conversing together with bowed heads and -earnest voices, and took no heed of our arrival. To add to all, there -were two women, one with a little child, clearly the wives of the -shepherds. - -Our guide went forward to the man who stood by the wall and whispered -something to him. In an instant he came to us, and, bowing to Marjory, -bade us welcome. "We are glad to see you here, Master Burnet," said he. -"I am rejoiced to see the gentlemen of the land coming forth on the side -of the Covenant. It is you and such as you that we need, and we are -blithe to give you shelter here as long as you care to bide with us. It -is a queer thing that two men of the same house should be engaged in -this business on different sides." - -Here one of the others spoke up. - -"I trust, Master Burnet, ye have brought us good news from the Lawlands. -We heard that ye had great converse with the godly there, and we will be -glad to hear your account of how the guid cause prospers over the -water." - -Now I felt myself in a position of much discomfort. The cause of my -outlawry had clearly got abroad, and here was I, credited with being a -zealous religionist and a great man among the Scots exiles in Holland. -Whereas, as I have already said, I cared little for these things, being -not of a temper which finds delight in little differences of creed or -details of ecclesiastical government, but caring little in what way a -man may worship his Maker. Indeed, to this day, while I can see the -advantage of having fixed rites and a church established, I see little -use in making a pother about any deviation. So I now found myself in an -unpleasing predicament. I must avow my utter ignorance of such matters -and my worldly motives for thus seeking shelter, and in all likelihood, -win the disfavour of these folk, nay, even be not suffered to remain. - -"I thank you for your welcome," said I, "but I must hasten to set -matters right between us. I am not of your party, though it is my -misfortune to have to seek safety among the hills. It is true I have -been in the Low Countries, but it was for the purposes of study and -seeing the world, and not for the sake of religion. If I must speak the -truth, when I abode there I had little care of such things, for they -were never in my way. Now that I am returned and find myself a -fugitive, I am not a whit more concerned with them. My misfortunes -arise from the guile of a kinsman, and not from my faith. So there you -have my predicament." - -I made the declaration crudely and roughly, for the necessity was urgent -upon me of making it very plain at the outset. Another man would have -been repelled or angered, but this man had the penetration to see -through my mask of callousness that I was not ill-disposed to his cause. - -"It is no matter," he said. "Though you were the most rabid malignant, -we would yet give you shelter. And, indeed, though you may not be of -our way of thinking in all matters, yet I doubt not you are with us on -the essentials. Forbye, you are a gentleman of Tweeddale, and it would -be queer if you werena right-hearted, Master John Burnet." - -Some one of the disputants grumbled, but the others seemed heartily to -share in this opinion, and bidding us sit down, they removed our -travelling gear, and set food before us. Our appetites were sharp with -the long hill journey, and we were not slow in getting to supper. -Meanwhile the long man to whom we had first spoken busied himself with -serving us, for in that desert place every man was his own servant. -Afterwards Marjory went to the women, and soon won their liking, for the -heart would be hard indeed which was not moved by her pretty ways and -graces. - -When I had done I sat down on the settle with the rest, and the fire -which burned in a corner of the cave was made up, and soon the place was -less dismal but a thousandfold more fantastic. I could scarce keep from -thinking that it was all a dream; that my landing, and midnight ride, -and Nicol's news, and my perilous predicament were all figments of the -brain. I was too tired to have any anxiety, for I would have you -remember that I had ridden all the night and most of the day without a -wink of sleep, besides having just come off a sea voyage. My eyelids -drooped, and I was constantly sinking off into a doze. The whole place -tended to drowsiness; the shadows and the light, the low hum of talk, -the heavy air, for the outlet for smoke was but narrow. But the man I -have spoken of came and sat down beside me and would engage me in talk. - -"I do not think you know me, Master Burnet," said he; "but I knew your -father well, and our houses used to be well acquaint. I am one o' the -Carnwath Lockharts, that ye may hae heard o'. My name is Francis -Lockhart o' the Beltyne." - -I knew him when he uttered the words, for I had often heard tell of him -for a gallant gentleman who had seen service under Gustavus and in many -Low Country wars. I complimented myself on his acquaintance, which -kindness he proceeded to repay. So we fell to discussing many -things--men I had known in Leyden, men I had known in Tweeddale, -together with the more momentous question of the future of each of us. -I gave him a full account of my recent fortunes, that he might have -wherewith to contradict any rumours as to my reasons for taking to the -hills. He in turn spoke to me of his life, and his sorrow at the fate -of his land. The man spoke in such unfeigned grief, and likewise with -such a gentleman-like note of fairness, that I felt myself drawn to him. -It was while thus engaged that he spoke a word which brought upon him -the condemnation of one of the ethers. - -"Oh," said he, "I would that some way might be found to redd up thae -weary times and set the king richt on his throne, for I canna but -believe that in this matter loyalty and religion go hand in hand; and -that were James Stewart but free from his wanchancy advisers there would -be less talk of persecuting." - -At this one of the others, a dark man from the West, spoke up sharply. -"What do I hear, Maister Lockhart? It's no by ony goodwill to James -Stewart that we can hope to set things richt in thae dark times. Rather -let our mouths be filled with psalms and our hands with the sword-hilt, -and let us teach the wanton and the scorner what manner o' men are bred -by the Covenant and the Word." - -The speech was hateful to me, and yet as I looked in the dark, rugged -face of the man I could not keep from liking it. Here, at any rate, was -a soul of iron. My heart stirred at his words, and I could have found -it in me to cast in my lot even with such as these, and bide the bent -with naught but a good sword and faith in God. Howbeit, it was well I -made no such decision, for I was never meant for one of them. I ever -saw things too clearly, both the evil and the good; and whereas this -quality hinders from swift and resolute action, it yet leads more -plainly to a happy life. - -Then the old man, him whom I have spoken of, beckoned to me with his -staff and bade me come and sit by him. He looked so kinglike even in -his affliction that I thought on the old blind king Oedipus in the Greek -play. - -"Ye kenna me, John Burnet, but weel ken I you. Often in the auld days -your father and me had gey ploys hunting and fechting roond a' the muirs -o' Tweed. He was a guid man, was Gilbert, and I hear he had glimpses o' -grace in the hinner end." - -"Maybe," said I, being in perplexity, for from the grace that he spoke -of, my father had ever been far. - -"Ay, and I was sair vexed I saw him so little. For he had to bide at -hame for the last years, and I was aye busied wi' other work. Yeddie o' -the Linns was never an idle man, and less than ever in thae days." - -At the mention of his name a flood of recollection came in upon me. I -minded how I had heard of the son of Lord Fairley, a great soldier who -had won high renown in the wars abroad: and how he had returned a -melancholy man, weighed down with the grave cares of religion, and gone -to the wilds of Tweed to a hut just above the Linns of Talla, where he -spent his days in prayer and meditation. The name of Yeddie o' the -Linns, as he was called among the shepherds and folk of these parts, -became an equivalent for high-hearted devotion. Then when the wars -began tales of him grew over the countryside. In stature he was all but -gigantic, famed over half the towns of France for feats of strength, and -no evil living had impaired his might. So at the outbreak of the -persecution he had been a terror to the soldiers who harried these -parts. The tale ran of the four men whom he slew single-handed at the -Linns, hemming them in a nook of rocks, and how often he had succoured -fugitives and prisoners, coming like an old lion from the hills and -returning no one knew whither. There was also the tale of his blinding -by a chance splinter from a bullet-shot, and how he had lived among the -caves and hills, dangerous even in his affliction. Had I but known it, -this cave was his finding, and half the retreats in Tweeddale and -Clydesdale were known to him. But now he was an old man, who had long -left his youth, and his strength had all but gone from him. He sat -alone in his great darkness, speaking little to the inmates or the -chance comers, save when he knew them for gentlemen of birth; for though -he might risk his life for the common people, he had no care to -associate with them, being of the old Kirkpatricks of that ilk, as proud -a house as is to be found in the land. - -"You are not of us," he said suddenly. "I heard you say a moment agone -that you had no share in the inheritance of Jacob, but still chose to -dwell among the tents of sin." - -"Nay," I said very gently, for he was very old and of noble presence, -"do not speak thus. Surely it is no sin to live at peace in the good -earth in honour and uprightness, and let all nice matters of doctrine go -by, esteeming it of more importance to be a good man and true than a -subtle disquisitioner--thinking, too, that all such things are of little -moment and change from age to age, and that to concern one's self much -with them is to follow vain trifles. For the root of the whole matter -is a simple thing on which all men are agreed, but the appurtenances are -many, and to me at least of such small significance that I care for them -not at all. I do not mind how a man worship his Maker, if he have but -real devoutness. I do not care how a church is governed if the folk in -it are in very truth God's people." - -"You speak well, my son," said he, "and at one time I should have gone -with you. Nor do I set any great value by doctrine. But you are young -and the blood is still rich in your veins and the world seems a fair -place, with many brave things to be achieved. But I am old and have -seen the folly of all things, how love is only a delusion and honour a -catchword and loyalty a mockery. And as the things of earth slip away -from me, and the glory of my strength departs, I see more clearly the -exceeding greatness of the things of God. And as my eyes cease to be -set on earth, I see more nearly the light of that better country which -is an heavenly. So I love to bide in these dark moors where the pomp of -the world comes not, among men of grave conversation, for I have leisure -and a fitting place to meditate upon the things to come." - -"It may be," said I, "that some day I also be of your way of thinking. -At present the world, though the Devil is more loose in it than I love, -seems to me so excellent that I would pluck the heart of it before I -condemn it. But God grant that I may never lose sight of the beauty of -His kingdom." - -"Amen to that," said the old man very reverently. - -Truly, my thoughts on things were changing. Here was I in the very -stronghold of the fanatics, and in the two chief, the old man and Master -Lockhart, I found a reasonable mind and lofty purpose. And thus I have -ever found it, that the better sort of the Covenanters were the very -cream of Scots gentlefolk, and that 'twas only in the _canaille_ that -the gloomy passion of fanatics was to be found. - -Meantime Nicol, who cared for none of these things, was teaching the -child how to play at the cat's garterns. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - HOW TWO OF HIS MAJESTY'S SERVANTS MET WITH THEIR DESERTS - - -The next morn broke fair and cloudless, and ere the sun was up I was -awake, for little time must be lost if we sought to win to Smitwood ere -the pursuit began. The folk of the cave were early risers, for the need -for retiring early to rest made them so; and we broke our fast with a -meal of cakes and broiled fish almost before daylight. Then I went out -to enjoy the fresh air, for it was safe enough to be abroad at that -hour. Nothing vexed the still air on the green hillside save the -flapping peewits and the faint morning winds. - -Marjory meantime ran out into the sunshine with all the gaiety in the -world. She was just like a child let loose from school, for she was -ever of a light heart and care sat easily upon her. Now, although we -were in the direst peril, she was taking delight in spring, as if we -were once again children in Dawyck, catching trout in the deep pools of -the wood. She left me to go out from the little glen, which was the -entrance to the cave, into the wider dale of the Cor Water, which ran -shallow between lone green braes. I heard her singing as she went down -among the juniper bushes and flinty rocks, and then it died away behind -a little shoulder of hill. - -So I was left to my own reflections on the plight in which I found -myself. For the first time a sort of wounded pride began to vex me. -Formerly I had thought of nothing save how to save my own head and keep -my love from my enemy, and cared not, if in the effecting of it, I had -to crouch with the fox and be chased by the basest scum of the land. I -cared not if I were put out of house and home and outlawed for years, -for the adventurous spirit was strong within me. But now all my old -pride of race rose in rebellion at the thought that I was become a -person without importance, a houseless wanderer, the spoil of my -enemies. It made me bitter as gall to think of it, and by whose aid my -misfortune had been effected. A sort of hopeless remorse came over me. -Should I ever win back the place I had lost? Would the Burnets ever -again be great gentlemen of Tweeddale, a power in the countryside, -having men at their beck and call? Or would the family be gone forever, -would I fall in the wilds, or live only to find my lands gone with my -power, and would Marjory never enter Barns as its mistress? I could get -no joy out of the morning for the thought, and as I wandered on the -hillside I had little care of what became of me. - -Now at this time there happened what roused me and set me once more at -peace with myself. And though it came near to being a dismal tragedy, -it was the draught which nerved me for all my later perils. And this was -the manner of it. - -Marjory, as she told me herself afterwards, had gone down to the little -meadows by the burnside, where she watched the clear brown water and the -fish darting in the eddies. She was thus engaged, when she was aware of -two horsemen who rode over the top of the glen and down the long hill on -the other side. They, were almost opposite before she perceived them, -and there was no time tor flight. Like a brave lass she uttered no -scream, but stood still that they might not see her. But it was of no -avail. Their roving eyes could not miss in that narrow glen so fair a -sight, and straightway one called out to the other that there was a girl -at the burnside. - -Now had the twain been out on an ordinary foray it would have gone hard -indeed with us. For they would have turned aside to search out the -matter, and in all likelihood the hiding-place would have been -discovered. But they had been out on some night errand and were -returning in hot haste to their quarters at Abington, where their -captain had none too gentle a temper. So they contented themselves with -shouting sundry coarse railleries, and one in the plenitude of his -greathearted ness fired his carbine at her. Without stopping further -they rode on. - -The bullet just grazed her arm above the wrist, cutting away a strip of -dress. She cried out at the pain, but though frightened almost to -death, she was brave enough to bide where she was, for if she had run -straight to the cave it would have shown them the hiding-place. As soon -as they passed out of view she came painfully up the slope, and I who -had heard the shot and rushed straightway to the place whence it came, -met her clasping her wounded wrist and with a pitiful white face. - -"O Marjory, what ails you?" I cried. - -"Nothing, John," she answered; "some soldiers passed me and one fired. -It has done me no harm. But let us get to shelter lest they turn back." - -At her words I felt my heart rise in a sudden great heat of anger. I -had never felt such passion before. It seemed to whelm and gulf my whole -being. - -"Let me carry you, dear," I said quietly, and lifting her I bore her -easily up the ravine to the cave. - -When I got her within our shelter there was a very great to-do. The -women ran up in grief to see the hurt, and the men at the news of the -military wore graver faces. Master Lockhart, who was something of a -surgeon, looked at the wound. - -"Oh," he says, "this is nothing, a scratch and no more. It will be well -as ever to-morrow. But the poor maid has had a fright which has made -her weak. I have some choice French brandy which I aye carry with me for -the fear of such accidents. Some of that will soon restore her." - -So he fetched from some unknown corner the bottle which he spake of, and -when her lips had been moistened, Marjory revived and declared her -weakness gone. Now my most pressing anxiety was removed, which up till -this time had been harassing me sore. For if my lady were to be hurt in -this unfriendly place, what hope of safety would there be for either? -When I saw that the wound was but trifling, the anger which had been -growing in my heart side by side with my care, wholly overmastered me. -All my pride of house and name was roused at the deed. To think that -the lady who was the dearest to me in the world should be thus -maltreated by scurrilous knaves of dragoons stirred me to fury. I well -knew that I could get no peace with the thought, and my inclination and -good-judgment alike made me take the course I followed. - -I called to Nicol, where he sat supping his morning porridge by the -fire, and he came to my side very readily. - -"Get the two horses," said I quietly, that none of the others might hear -of my madness, "one for me and one for yourself." Now the beasts were -stabled in the back part of the cave, which was roomy and high, though -somewhat damp. The entrance thereto lay by a like rift in the hillside -some hundred yards farther up the glen. When I had thus bidden my -servant I sauntered out into the open air and waited his coming with -some impatience. - -I asked him, when he appeared, if he had the pistols, for he had a great -trick of going unarmed and trusting to his fleet legs and mother wit -rather than the good gifts of God to men, steel and gunpowder. "Ay, -laird, I hae them. Are ye gaun to shoot muirfowl?" - -"Yes," said I, "I am thinking of shooting a muirfowl for my breakfast." - -Nicol laughed quietly to himself. He knew well the errand I was on, or -he would not have consented so readily. - -I knew that the two dragoons had ridden straight down the Cor Water -glen, making for the upper vale of Tweed and thence to the Clyde hills. -But this same glen of Cor is a strangely winding one, and if a man leave -it and ride straight over the moorland he may save a matter of two -miles, and arrive at the Tweed sooner than one who has started before -him. The ground is rough, but, to one used to the hills, not so as to -keep him from riding it with ease. Also at the foot of the burn there -is a narrow nick through which it thrusts itself in a little cascade to -join the larger stream; and through this place the road passes, for all -the hills on either side are steep and stony, and offer no foothold for -a horse. Remembering all these things, a plan grew up in my mind which -I hastened to execute. - -With Nicol following, I rode aslant the low hills to the right and came -to the benty tableland which we had travelled the day before. The sun -was now well up in the sky, and the air was so fresh and sweet that it -was pure pleasure to breathe it. - -After maybe a quarter-hour's stiff riding we descended, and keeping well -behind a low spur which hid us from the valley, turned at the end into -the glen-mouth, at the confluence of the two waters. Then we rode more -freely till we reached the narrows which I have spoke of, and there we -halted. All was quiet, nor was there any sound of man or horse. - -"Do you bide there," said I to my servant, "while I will wait here. Now -I will tell you what I purpose to do. The two miscreants who shot -Mistress Marjory are riding together on their way to their quarters. -One will have no shot in his carbine; what arms the other has I cannot -tell; but at any rate we two with pistols can hold them in check. Do -you cover the one on the right when they appear, and above all things -see that you do not fire." - -So we waited there, sitting motionless in our saddles, on that fair -morning when all around us the air was full of crying snipe and -twittering hill-linnets. The stream made a cheerful sound, and the -little green ferns in the rocks nodded beneath the spray of the water. -I found my mind misgiving me again and again for the headstrong prank on -which I was entered, as unworthy of one who knew something of better -things. But I had little time for self-communings, for we had scarce -been there two minutes before we heard the grating of hooves on the -hill-gravel, and our two gentlemen came round the corner not twenty -yards ahead. - -At the sight of us they reined up and stared stock still before them. -Then I saw the hands of both reach to their belts, and I rejoiced at the -movement, for I knew that the arms of neither were loaded. - -"Gentlemen," said I, "it will be at your peril that you move. We have -here two loaded pistols. We are not soldiers of His Majesty, so we have -some skill in shooting. Let me assure you on my word that your case is -a desperate one." - -At my words the one still looked with a haughty, swaggering stare, but -the jaw of the other dropped and he seemed like a man in excess of -terror. - -"To-day," I went on, "you shot at a lady not half an hour agone. It is -for this that I have come to have speech with you. Let us understand -one another, my friends. I am an outlawed man and one not easy to deal -with. I am the Laird of Barns--ah, I see you know the name--and let -this persuade you to offer no resistance." - -One of the twain still stood helpless. The other's hand twitched as if -he would draw his sword or reach to his powder-flask, but the steely -glitter of our barrels and my angry face deterred him. - -"What do you want with us?" he said in a tone of mingled sulkiness and -bravado. "Let me tell you, I am one of His Majesty's dragoons, and -you'll pay well for any ill you do to me. I care not a fig for you, for -all your gentrice. If you would but lay down your pop-guns and stand -before me man to man, I would give you all the satisfaction you want." - -The fellow was a boor but he spoke like a man, and I liked him for his -words. But I replied grimly: - -"I will have none of your bragging. Go and try that in your own stye, -you who shoot at women. I will give you as long as I may count a -hundred, and if before that you have not stripped off every rag you have -on and come forward to me here, by God I will shoot you down like the -dogs you are." - -And with this I began solemnly to count aloud. - -At first they were still rebellious, but fear of the death which glinted -to them from the barrels of the pistols won the mastery. Slowly and -with vast reluctance they began to disrobe themselves of belt and -equipments, of coat and jackboots, till they stood before me in the mild -spring air as stark as the day they were born. Their faces were heavy -with malice and shame. - -"Now," said I to Nicol, "dismount and lay on to these fellows with the -flat of your sword. Give me your pistol, and if either makes resistance -he will know how a bullet tastes. Lay on, and do not spare them." - -So Nicol, to whom the matter was a great jest, got down and laid on -lustily. They shouted most piteously for mercy, but none they got till -the stout arm of my servant was weary. - -"And now, gentlemen, you may remount your horses. Nay, without your -clothes; you will ride more freely as you are. And give my best -respects to your honourable friends, and tell them I wish a speedy -meeting." - -But as I looked in the face of one, him who had been so terror-stricken -at the outset, I saw that which I thought I recognised. - -"You, fellow," I cried, "where have I seen you before?" - -And as I looked again, I remembered a night the year before on the -Alphen road, when I had stood over this very man and questioned him on -his name and doings. So he had come to Scotland as one of the foreign -troops. - -"I know you, Jan Hamman," said I. "The great doctor Johannes Burnetus -of Lugdunum has not forgotten you. You were scarcely in an honest trade -before, but you are in a vast deal less honest now. I vowed if ever I -met you again to make you smart for your sins, and I think I have kept -my word, though I had the discourtesy to forget your face at first -sight. Good morning, Jan, I hope to see you again ere long. Good -morning, gentlemen both." - -So the luckless pair rode off homeward, and what reception they met with -from their captain and their comrades who shall say? - -Meanwhile, when they were gone for some little time, Nicol and I rode -back by a round-about path. When I began to reflect, I saw the full -rashness of my action. I had burned my boats behind me with a -vengeance. There was no choice of courses before me now. The chase -would be ten times hotter against me than before, and besides I had -given them some clue to my whereabouts. You may well ask if the danger -to my love were not equally great, for that by this action they would -know at least the airt by which she had fled. I would answer that these -men were of Gilbert's own company, and one, at least, of them, when he -heard my name, must have had a shrewd guess as to who the lady was. My -cousin's love affairs were no secret. If the man had revealed the tale -in its entirety, his own action must necessarily have been exposed, and -God help him who had insulted one whom Gilbert cared for. He would have -flayed the skin from him at the very mention. - -To my sober reason to-day the action seems foolhardy in the extreme, and -more like a boyish frolic than the work of a man. But all I knew at the -time, as I rode back, was that my pride was for the moment soothed, and -my heart mightily comforted. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - OF OUR WANDERINGS AMONG THE MOORS OF CLYDE - - -If there had been haste before in our journey there was the more now, -when in a few hours the countryside would be alive with our foes. I -hurriedly considered in my mind the course of events. In three hours' -riding the soldiers, all stark as they were, would come to Abington, and -in three more the road to Douglasdale would be blocked by a dozen -companies. It was no light thing thus to have set the whole hell's byke -in Clydesdale buzzing about my ears. - -We were not long in reaching the cave. Here to my joy I found Marjory -all recovered from her fright, and the wound hurting her no more than a -pin's scratch. When I spoke of immediate progress she listened gladly -and was for setting out forthwith. I did not tell her of the soldiers' -discomfiture, for I knew that she would fall to chiding me for my -foolhardiness, and besides she would have more dismal fears for my -future if she knew that I had thus incensed the military against me. - -It was with much regret that I bade farewell to Master Lockhart and the -old man; nor would they let me go without a promise that if I found -myself hard pressed at any time in the days to come I would take refuge -with them. I was moved by the sight of the elder, who laying his hand -on my lady's head, stroked her fair golden hair gently and said, "Puir -lass, puir lass, ye're no for the muirs. I foresee ill days coming for -ye when ye'll hae nae guid sword to protect ye. But lippen weel to the -Lord, my bairn, and He'll no forsake ye." So amid the speaking of -farewells and well-wishes we rode out into the green moors. - -How shall I tell of that morning ride? I have seen very many days in -April now, for I am a man aging to middle life, but never have I seen -one like that. The sky was one sheet of the faintest blue, with delicate -white clouds blown lightly athwart it. The air was so light that it -scarce stirred the grass, so cool that it made our foreheads as crisp -and free as on a frosty winter's day, so mild that a man might have -fancied himself still in the Low Lands. The place was very quiet save -for a few sounds and these the most delectable on earth--the cries of -sheep and the tender bleating of young lambs, the rise and fall of the -stream, the croon of rock pigeons, and the sterner notes of curlew and -plover. And the grass was short and lawnlike, stretching in wavy ridges -to the stream, seamed with little rush-fringed rills and patched with -fields of heath. Only when we gained the edge had we any view of -country, and even then it was but circumscribed. Steep fronting hills, -all scarred with ravines; beyond, shoulders and peaks rising ever into -the distance, and below us the little glen which holds the head waters -of Tweed. - -We crossed the river without slacking rein, for the water scarce reached -above our horses' pasterns. And now we struck up a burn called the -Badlieu, at the foot of which was a herd's shieling. The spirit of the -spring seemed to have clean possessed Marjory and I had never seen her -so gay. All her past sorrows and present difficulties seemed forgotten, -and a mad gaiety held her captive. She, who was for usual so demure, -now cast her gravity to the winds, and seemed bent on taking all the -joys of the fair morning. She laughed, she sang snatches of old songs, -and she leaped her horse lightly over the moss-trenches. She stooped to -pluck some early white wind-flowers, and set some in her hair and some -at her saddle-bow. - -"Nay, John," she cried, "if you and I must take to the hills let us do -it with some gallantry. It is glorious to be abroad. I would give -twelve months of sleepy peace at Dawyck for one hour of this life. I -think this must be the Garden of Perpetual Youth in the fairy tale." - -The same mad carelessness took hold on me also. Of a sudden my outlook -on the world changed round to the opposite, and the black forebodings -which had been ever present to distress me, seemed to vanish like dew -before the sun. Soon I was riding as gaily as she; while Nicol, as he -ran with great strides and unfaltering breath, he too became -light-hearted, though to tell the truth care was not a commodity often -found with him. - -Soon we had climbed the low range which separates the Clyde glen from -the Tweed and turned down the narrow ravine of the burn which I think -they call Fopperbeck, and which flows into the Evan Water. Now it would -have been both easier and quieter to have ridden down the broad, low -glen of the Medlock Water, which flows into Clyde by the village of -Crawford. But this would have brought us perilously near the soldiers -at Abington, and if once the pursuit had begun every mile of distance -would be worth to us much gold. Yet though the danger was so real I -could not think of it as any matter for sorrow, but awaited what fate -God might send with a serene composure, begotten partly of my habitual -rashness and partly of the intoxication of the morn. - -We kept over the rocky ravine through which the little river Evan flows -to Annan, and came to the wide moorlands which stretch about the upper -streams of Clyde. Here we had a great prospect of landscape, and far as -eye could see no living being but ourselves moved in these desolate -wastes. Far down, just at the mouth of the glen where the vale widens -somewhat, rose curling smoke from the hamlet of Elvanfoot, a place soon -to be much resorted to and briskly busy, since, forbye lying on the -highway 'twixt Edinburgh and Dumfries, it is there that the by-path goes -off leading to the famous lead mines, at the two places of Leadhills and -Wanlockhead. But now it was but a miserable roadside clachan of some -few low huts, with fodder for neither man nor beast. - -As we rode we looked well around us, for we were in an exceeding -dangerous part of our journey. To the right lay Abington and the lower -Clyde valley, where my sweet cousin and his men held goodly fellowship. -Even now they would be buckling saddle-straps, and in two hours would be -in the places through which we were now passing. To the left was the -long pass into Nithsdale, where half a score of gentlemen did their best -to instil loyalty into the Whigs of the hills. I hated the land to that -airt, for I had ever loathed the south and west countries, where there -is naught but sour milk and long prayers without a tincture of gentrice -or letters. I was a man of Tweeddale who had travelled and studied and -mingled among men. I had no grudge against sheltering with the -Tweedside rebels, who were indeed of my own folk; but I had no stomach -for Nithsdale and Clydesdale rant and ill fare. Had not necessity -driven me there I vow I should never have ventured of myself; and as I -rode I swore oftentimes that once I were free of my errand I would seek -my refuge in my own countryside. - -And now we were climbing the long range which flanks the Potrail Water, -which is the larger of the twin feeders of Clyde. Now we turned more to -the north, and skirting the wild hills which frown around the pass of -Enterkin, sought the upper streams of the Duneaton Water. I cannot call -to mind all the burns we crossed or the hills we climbed, though they -have all been told to me many a time and again. One little burn I -remember called the Snar, which flowed very quietly and pleasantly in a -deep, heathery glen. Here we halted and suffered our horses to graze, -while we partook of some of the food which the folk of the Cor Water had -sent with us. Now the way which we had come had brought us within seven -miles of the dragoons' quarters at Abington, for it was necessary to -pass near them to get to Douglasdale and Smitwood. But they had no clue -to our whereabouts, and when they set forth against us must needs ride -first to the Tweed valley. - -Here in this narrow glen we were in no danger save from some chance -wandering soldier. But this danger was the less to be feared, since if -Gilbert had any large portion of his men out on one errand he would be -sure to set the rest to their duties as garrison. For my cousin had no -love for lax discipline, but had all the family pride of ordering and -being obeyed to the letter. So we kindled a little fire by the -stream-side, and in the ashes roasted some eggs of a muirfowl which -Nicol had picked up on the journey; and which with the cheese and the -cakes we had brought made a better meal than I might hope for for many -days to come. We sat around the fire in the dry heather 'neath the -genial sun, thanking God that we were still alive in the green world and -with few cares save the frustrating of our foes. Marjory was somewhat -less cheerful than in the morning, partly from the fatigue of riding, -which in these waste places is no light thing, and partly because -anxiety for my safety and sorrow at our near parting were beginning to -oppress her. For herself, I verily believe, she had no care, for she -was brave as a lion in the presence of what most women tremble at. But -the loneliness of a great house and the never-appeased desire for -knowledge of my safety were things which came nearer so rapidly that I -did not wonder she lost her gaiety. - -"Oh, what will you do alone in these places?" she said. "If you had but -one with you, I should be comforted. Will you not let Nicol accompany -you?" - -Now when my lady looked at me with melting eyes and twined her hands in -her eagerness, it was hard to have to deny her. But I was resolved that -my servant should abide at Smitwood to guard her and bring me tidings if -aught evil threatened. - -"Nay, dear," I said, "that may not be. I cannot have you left with an -old man who is helpless with age and a crew of hireling servants. I -should have no heart to live in the moors if I had not some hope of your -safety. Believe me, dear, I can very well defend myself. My skill of -hillcraft is as good as any dragoon's, and I have heard folk say that I -am no ill hand with a sword. And I know the countryside like the palm -of my own hand, and friends are not few among these green glens. Trust -me, no ill will come near me, and our meeting will be all the merrier -for our parting." - -I spoke heartily, but in truth I was far from feeling such ease of mind. -For my old cursed pride was coming back, and I was beginning to chafe -against the beggarly trade of skulking among the moors when I had a fine -heritage for my own, and above all when I was a scholar and had thoughts -of a peaceful life. I found it hard to reconcile my dream of a -philosophic life wherein all things should be ordered according to the -dictates of reason, with the rough and ready times which awaited me, -when my sword must keep my head, and my first thought must be of meat -and lodging, and cunning and boldness would be qualities more valuable -than subtle speculation and lofty imagining. - -In a little we were rested and rode on our way. Across the great moors -of Crawfordjohn we passed, which is a place so lonely that the men in -these parts have a proverb, "Out of the world and into Crawfordjohn." -We still kept the uplands till we came to the springs of a burn called -the Glespin, which flows into the Douglas Water. Our easier path had -lain down by the side of this stream past the little town of Douglas. -But in the town was a garrison of soldiers--small, to be sure, and -feeble, but still there--who were used to harry the moors around -Cairntable and Muirkirk. So we kept the ridges till below us we saw the -river winding close to the hill and the tower of Smitwood looking out of -its grove of trees. By this time darkness was at hand, and the last -miles of our journey were among darkening shadows. We had little fear -of capture now, for we were on the lands of the castle, and Veitch of -Smitwood was famed over all the land for a cavalier and a most loyal -gentleman. So in quiet and meditation we crossed the stream at the -ford, and silently rode up the long avenue to the dwelling. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - I PART FROM MARJORY - - -"I've travelled far and seen many things, but, Gad, I never saw a -stranger than this. My niece is driven out of house and home by an -overbold lover, and you, Master Burnet, come here and bid me take over -the keeping of this firebrand, which, it seems, is so obnoxious to His -Majesty's lieges." - -So spake the old laird of Smitwood, smiling. He was a man of full -eighty years of age, but still erect with a kind of soldierly bearing. -He was thin and tall, and primly dressed in the fashion of an elder day. -The frosty winter of age had come upon him, but in his ruddy cheek and -clean-cut face one could see the signs of a hale and vigorous decline. -He had greeted us most hospitably, and seemed hugely glad to see Marjory -again, whom he had not set eyes on for many a day. We had fallen to -supper with keen appetite, for the air of the moors stirs up the -sharpest hunger; and now that we had finished we sat around the -hall-fire enjoying our few remaining hours of company together. For -myself I relished the good fare and the warmth, for Heaven knew when -either would be mine again. The high oak-roofed chamber, hung with -portraits of Veitches many, was ruddy with fire-light. Especially the -picture in front of the chimney by Vandyke, of that Michael Veitch who -died at Philiphaugh, was extraordinarily clear and lifelike. Master -Veitch looked often toward it; then he took snuff with a great air of -deliberation, and spoke in his high, kindly old voice. - -"My brother seems well to-night, Marjory. I have not seen him look so -cheerful for years." (He had acquired during his solitary life the -habit of talking to the picture as if it were some living thing.) "I -can never forgive the Fleming for making Michael hold his blade in so -awkward a fashion. Faith, he would have been little the swordsman he -was, if he had ever handled sword like that. I can well remember when I -was with him at Etzburg, how he engaged in a corner two Hollanders and a -Swiss guard, and beat them back till I came up with him and took one off -his hands." - -"I have heard of that exploit," said I. "You must know that I have just -come from the Low Countries, where the names of both of you are still -often on men's lips." - -The old man seemed well pleased. - -"Ah," he said, "so you have come from abroad. In what place did you -bide, may I enquire?" - -"In the town of Leyden," said I, "for my aim was no more than to acquire -learning at the college there. But I foregathered with many excellent -Scots gentlemen from whom I heard the talk of the camp and the state." - -"Say you so? Then what do you here? Did you return on the single -errand of protecting my fair niece? But stay! I am an old man who -cares not much for the chatter of the country, but I have heard--or am I -wrong?--that you were not of the true party, but leaned to the Whigs?" - -"Nay," I cried, "I beseech you not to believe it. God knows I am a -king's man out and out, and would see all whigamores in perdition before -I would join with them. But fate has brought me into a strange mixture -of misfortunes. I land at Leith, expecting nothing save a peaceful -homecoming, and lo! I find my cousin waiting with a warrant for my -arrest. I am accused of something I am wholly innocent of, but I cannot -prove it; nay, there is evidence against me, and my enemies in the -Council are all-powerful. Moreover, if I suffer myself to be taken, -Marjory is at the mercy of my foes. I take the only course; give the -dragoons the slip, and ride straight to Tweeddale, escort her to a house -where she will be safe and unknown; and when this is done take to the -hills myself with a light heart. They are too ill-set against me for my -setting any hope in going to Edinburgh and pleading my case. Was there -any other way?" - -"None," said Master Veitch, "but it is a hard case for yourself. Not -the hiding among the moors; this is a noble trade for any young man of -spirit. But the consorting with the vile fanatics of these deserts must -go sore against your heart." - -Now I, who had just come from the folk of the Cor Water, had no such -dread of the hillmen, but I forebore to say it. For Master Veitch had -been brought up in one school, those men in another. Both were blind to -the other's excellencies; both were leal-hearted men in their own ways. -It is a strange providence that has so ordered it that the best men in -the world must ever remain apart through misunderstanding. - -"But to come to my errand," said I. "I have brought you your niece for -protection. You are a king's man, a soldier, and well known in the -countryside. It is more than unlikely that any troops will come nigh -you. Nor is it possible that the maid can be traced hither. I ask that -you suffer her to abide in the house, while I take myself off that there -be the less danger. And O, I beseech you, do not refuse me. She is -your own flesh and blood. You cannot deny her shelter." - -The old man's face darkened. "You take me for a strange kinsman, Master -Burnet," he said, "if you think I would refuse my best aid to a -kinswoman in distress. Do you think that you are the sole protector of -my house?" - -I bowed before his deserved rebuke. - -"But for certain. Marjory may abide here as long as she will," he added -cheerfully. "We will do our best to entertain her, though I am too old -to remember well the likings of girls. And if anyone comes seeking her -on errand of no good, by God, he will learn that William Veitch has not -lost the use of his arm. - -"May I ask," said I, "that my servant be allowed to stay? He knows the -hills as scarce any other living man, he is faithful, and clever as you -would hardly believe were I to tell you. With him in the house I should -have no fear for its safety." - -"So be it," said the old man; "I will not deny that my servants are not -so numerous nor so active that another would not be something of an -improvement. Has he any skill in cooking?" This he asked in a -shamefaced tone, for old as he was he had not lost his relish for good -fare. - -"I will ask him," said I, and I called Nicol from the servants' -quarters. - -"Your master gives me a good account of you," said the cracked voice of -the laird of Smitwood, "and I would fain hope it true. I wished to -interrogate you about--ah, your powers--ah, of cooking pleasing dishes," -and he waved his hand deprecatingly. - -"Oh, your honour, I am ready for a' thing," said Nicol. "Sheep's heid, -singit to a thocht, cockyleeky and a' kind o' soup, mutton in half a -dozen different ways, no to speak o' sic trifles as confections. I can -cook ye the flesh o' the red deer and the troots frae the burn, forbye -haggis and brose, partan pies and rizzard haddies, crappit-heids and -scate-rumpies, nowt's feet, kebbucks, scadlips, and skink. Then I can -wark wi' custocks and carlings, rifarts, and syboes, farles, fadges, and -bannocks, drammock, brochan, and powsowdie." - -"That will do, you may go," said the old man, rubbing his hands with -glee. "By my word, a genuine Scots gastronome, skilled in the ancient -dishes of the land. I anticipate a pleasing time while he bides here." - -It was long ere the worthy gentleman could get over his delight in the -project of my servant's presence. Even after he had gone he sat and -chuckled to himself, for he was known among his friends to have a fine -taste for dainties. Meantime, the light was dying out of doors, and -more logs were laid on the fire, till it crackled and leaped like a live -thing. I have ever loved the light of a wood-fire, for there is no more -heartsome thing on earth than its cheerful crackle when one comes in -from shooting on the hills in the darkening of a winter's day. Now I -revelled in the comfort of it, since on the morrow I would have no other -cheer than a flaming sunset. - -So we sat around the hearth and talked of many things till the evening -was late. The old man fell to the memories of former folk, and told us -tales of our forbears as would have made them turn in their graves could -they have heard them. Of my house he had scarce a good word to speak, -averring that they were all 'scape-the-gallows every one, but gallant -fellows in their way. "There was never a Burnet," he cried, "who would -scruple to stick a man who doubted his word, or who would not ride a -hundred miles to aid a friend. There were no lads like the Burnets in -all the countryside for dicing and feasting and riding breakneck on the -devil's errand. But, Gad, if they were stubborn as bulls when they were -down themselves, they were as tender as women to folk in trouble." - -"There's one of their name like to be in trouble for many days to come," -said I. - -"Meaning yourself? Well, it will do you no ill. There's naught better -for a young man than to find out how little the world cares whether he -be dead or alive. And, above all, you that pretend to be a scholar, it -will ding some of the fine-spun fancies out of your head. But for the -Lord's sake, laddie, dinna get a bullet in your skull or you'll have me -with all my years taking the field to pay back them that did it." He -spoke this so kindly that I was moved to forget the first half of his -words through the excellency of the second. In truth I much needed the -rough lessons of hardship and penury, for at that time I was much puffed -up in a self-conceit and a certain pride of letters as foolish as it was -baseless. - -"I must be off in the morning before the dawning, for I have to be on -the hills ere the soldiers get abroad. I must beg of you not to disturb -yourself, Master Veitch, for my sake, but just to bid them make ready -for me some provisions; and I will slip off ere the household be awake. -It is better to say farewell now than to have many sad leave-takings at -the moment of departure. I have no fear of my journey, for my legs are -as good as any man's and I can make my hands keep my head. Also, my -mind is easy since I know that Marjory is safe here." - -"Then I will even bid you good-bye, John," said he, "for I am an old man -and keep early hours. If you will follow me I will take you to your -chamber. Alison will take you to the old room, Marjory, where you have -not been since you were a little lass scarce up to my knee." And with -obvious intent he walked out. - -"God keep you, John," my dear lass whispered on my shoulder. "I will -never cease to think of you. Ana oh, be not long in coming back." - -And this was the last I saw of my lady for many days. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - OF THE MAN WITH THE ONE EYE AND THE ENCOUNTER IN THE GREEN CLEUCH - - -I promise you I slept little that night, and it was with a heavy heart -that I rose betimes and dressed in the chill of the morning. There was -no one awake, and I left the house unobserved, whistling softly to keep -up my spirits. - -Just without, someone came behind me and cried my name. I turned round -sharply, and there was my servant Nicol, slinking after me for all the -world like a collie-dog which its master has left at home. - -"What do you want with me?" I cried. - -"Naething," he groaned sadly. "I just wantit to see ye afore ye gaed. -I am awfu' feared, sir, for you gaun awa' yoursel'. If it werena for -Mistress Marjory, it wad be a deal mair than your word wad keep me frae -your side. But I cam to see if there was nae way o' gettin' word o' ye. -My leddy will soon turn dowie, gin she gets nae sough o' your -whereabouts. Ye'd better tell me where I can get some kind o' a -letter." - -"Well minded!" I cried. "You know the cairn on the backside of Caerdon -just above the rising of Kilbucho Burn. This day three weeks I will -leave a letter for your mistress beneath the stones, which you must -fetch and give her. And if I am safe and well every three weeks it will -be the same. Good day to you, Nicol, and see you look well to the charge -I have committed to you." - -"Guid day to you, sir," he said, and I protest that the honest fellow -had tears in his eyes; and when I had gone on maybe half a mile and -looked back, he was still standing like a stone in the same spot. - -At first I was somewhat depressed in my mind. It is a hard thing thus to -part from one's mistress when the air is thick with perils to both. So -as I tramped through the meadows and leaped the brooks, it was with a -sad heart, and my whole mind was taken up in conjuring back the pleasant -hours I had spent in my lady's company, the old frolics in the wood of -Dawyck, the beginnings of our love-making, even the ride hither from the -Cor Water. Yesterday, I reflected, she was with me here; now I am alone -and like to be so for long. Then I fell to cursing myself for a fool, -and went on my way with a better heart. - -But it was not till I had crossed the wide stream of the Douglas Water -and begun to ascend the hills, that I wholly recovered my composure. -Before, I had been straggling in low meadows which do not suit my -temper, since I am above all things hill-bred and a lover of dark -mountains. So now on the crisp spring grass of the slopes my spirits -rose. Was not I young and strong and skilled in the accomplishments of -a man? The world was before me--that wide, undiscovered world which had -always attracted the more heroic spirits. What hardship was there to -live a free life among the hills, under the sunshine and the wind, the -clouds and the blue sky? - -But my delight could never be unmixed though I tried. After all, was I -free? I felt of a sudden that I was not one half equipped for a gipsy, -adventurous life. I was tied down to custom and place with too many -ties. I came of a line of landed gentlemen. The taint of possession, of -mastery and lordship over men and land, was strong in me. I could not -bring me to think of myself as a kinless and kithless vagabond, having -no sure place of abode. Then my love of letters, my learning, my -philosophy, bound me down with indissoluble bands. To have acquired a -taste for such things was to have unfitted myself for ever for the life -of careless vagabondage. Above all there was my love; and ever, as I -went on, my thoughts came home from their aerial flights and settled -more and more in a little room in a house in a very little portion of -God's universe. And more and more I felt myself a slave to beloved -tyrants, and yet would not have been free if I could. - -It was always thus with me when alone: I must fall to moralising and -self-communing. Still perhaps the master feeling in my mind was one of -curiosity and lightheartedness. So I whistled, as I went, all the old -tunes of my boyhood which I was wont to whistle when I went out to the -hills with my rod and gun, and stepped briskly over the short heather, -and snapped my fingers in the face of the world. - -Now I dared not go back to Tweeddale by the way by which I had come, for -the Clyde valley above Abington would be a hunting-ground of dragoons -for many days. There was nothing for it but to make for the lower -waters, ford the river above Coulter, and then come to Tweeddale in the -lower parts, and thence make my way to the Water of Cor. Even this -course was not without its dangers; for the lower glen of Tweed was -around Dawyck and Barns, and this was the very part of all the land the -most perilous to me at the moment. To add to this, I was well at home -among the wilder hills; but it was little I knew of Clydesdale below -Abington, till you come to the town of Lanark. This may at first seem a -trifling misfortune, but in my present case it was a very great one. For -unless a man knows every house and the character of its inmates he is -like to be in an ill way if close watched and threatened. However, I -dreaded this the less, and looked for my troubles mainly after I had -once entered my own lands in Tweeddale. - -At the time when the sun rose I was on a long hill called Craigcraw, -which hangs at the edge of the narrow crack in the hills through which -goes the bridle-road from Lanark to Moffat. I thought it scarce worth -my while to be wandering aimlessly among mosses and craigs when -something very like a road lay beneath me; so I made haste to get down -and ease my limbs with the level way. It was but a narrow strip of -grass, running across the darker heath, and coiling in front like a -green ribbon through nick or scaur or along the broad brae-face. - -Soon I came to the small, roofless shieling of Redshaw, where aforetime -lived a villain of rare notoriety, with whose name, "Redshaw Jock," Jean -Morran embittered my childhood. I thought of all these old pleasing -days, as I passed the bare rickle of stones in the crook of the burn. -Here I turned from the path, for I had no desire to go to Abington, and -struck up a narrow howe in the hills, which from the direction I guessed -must lead to the lower Clyde. It was a lonesome place as ever I have -seen. The spring sunshine only made the utter desolation the more -apparent and oppressive. Afar on the hillside, by a clump of rowan -trees, I saw the herd's house of Wildshaw, well named in its remote -solitude. But soon I had come to the head of the burn and mounted the -flat tableland, and in a little came to the decline on the other side, -and entered the glen of the Roberton Burn. - -Here it was about the time of noon, and I halted to eat my midday meal. -I know not whether if was the long walk and the rough scrambling, or the -clean, fresh spring air, or the bright sunshine, or the clear tinkle of -the burn at my feet, or the sense of freedom and adventurous romance, -but I have rarely eaten a meal with such serene satisfaction. All this -extraordinary day I had been alternating between excessive gaiety and -sad regrets. Now the former element had the mastery, and I was as -hilarious as a young horse when he is first led out to pasture. - -And after a little as I sat there my mirth grew into a sober joy. I -remembered all the poets who had sung of the delights of the open air -and the unshackled life. I laughed at my former feeling of shame in the -matter. Was there any ignominy in being driven from the baseness of -settled habitation to live like a prince under God's sky? And yet, as I -exulted in the thought, I knew all too well that in a little my feelings -would have changed and I would be in the depths of despondency. - -In less than an hour I had turned a corner of hill and there before me -lay the noble strath of Clyde. I am Tweedside born and will own no -allegiance save to my own fair river, but I will grant that next to it -there is none fairer than the upper Clyde. Were it not that in its -lower course it flows through that weariful west country among the dull -whigamores and Glasgow traders, it would be near as dear to me as my own -well-loved Tweed. There it lay, glittering in light, and yellow with -that strange yellow glow that comes on April waters. The little scrubs -of wood were scarce seen, the few houses were not in the picture; -nothing caught the eye save the giant mouldings of the hills, the severe -barren vale, and the sinuous path of the stream. - -I crossed it without any mishap, wading easily through at one of the -shallows. There was no one in sight, no smoke from any dwelling; all -was as still as if it were a valley of the dead. Only from the upper -air the larks were singing, and the melancholy peewits cried ever over -the lower moorlands. From this place my course was clear; I went up the -prattling Wandel Burn, from where it entered the river, and soon I was -once more lost in the windings of the dark hills. There is a narrow -bridle-path which follows the burn, leading from Broughton in Tweeddale -to Abington, so the way was easier walking. - -And now I come to the relation of one of the strangest adventures of -this time, which as often as I think upon it fills me with delight. For -it was a ray of amusement in the perils and hardships of my wanderings. - -A mile or more up this stream, just before the path begins to leave the -waterside and strike towards the highlands, there is a little green -cleuch, very fair and mossy, where the hills on either side come close -and the glen narrows down to half a hundred yards. When I came to this -place I halted for maybe a minute to drink at a pool in the rocks, for I -was weary with my long wanderings. - -A noise in front made me lift my head suddenly and stare before me. And -there riding down the path to meet me was a man. His horse seemed to -have come far, for it hung its head as if from weariness and stumbled -often. He himself seemed to be looking all around him and humming some -blithe tune. He was not yet aware of my presence, for he rode -negligently, like one who fancies himself alone. As he came nearer I -marked him more clearly. He was a man of much my own height, with a -shaven chin and a moustachio on his upper lip. He carried no weapons -save one long basket-handled sword at his belt. His face appeared to be -a network of scars; but the most noteworthy thing was that he had but -one eye, which glowed bright from beneath bushy brows. Here, said I to -myself, is a man of many battles. - -In a moment he caught my eye, and halted abruptly not six paces away. -He looked at me quietly for some seconds, while his horse, which was a -spavined, broken-winded animal at best, began to crop the grass. But if -his mount was poor, his dress was of the richest and costliest, and much -gold seemed to glisten from his person. - -"Good day, sir," said he very courteously. "A fellow-traveller, I -perceive." By this time I had lost all doubt, for I saw that the man -was no dragoon, but of gentle birth by his bearing. So I answered him -readily. - -"I little expected to meet any man in this deserted spot, least of all a -mounted traveller. How did you come over these hills, which if I mind -right are of the roughest?" - -"Ah," he said, "my horse and I have done queer things before this," and -he fell to humming a fragment of a French song, while his eye wandered -eagerly to my side. - -Suddenly he asked abruptly: "Sir, do you know aught of sword-play?" - -I answered in the same fashion that I was skilled in the rudiments. - -He sprang from his horse in a trice and was coming towards me. - -"Thank God," he cried earnestly, "thank God. Here have I been thirsting -for days to feel a blade in my hands, and devil a gentleman have I met. -I thank you a thousand times, sir, for your kindness. I beseech you to -draw." - -"But," I stammered, "I have no quarrel with you." - -He looked very grieved. "True, if you put it in that way. But that is -naught between gentlemen, who love ever to be testing each other's -prowess. You will not deny me?" - -"Nay," I said, "I will not," for I began to see his meaning, and I -stripped to my shirt and, taking up my sword, confronted him. - -So there in that quiet cleuch we set to with might and main, with vast -rivalry but with no malice. We were far too skilled to butcher one -another like common rufflers. Blow was given and met, point was taken -and parried, all with much loving kindness. But I had not been two -minutes at the work when I found I was in the hands of a master. The -great conceit of my play which I have always had ebbed away little by -little. The man before me was fencing easily with no display, but every -cut came near to breaking my guard, and every thrust to overcoming my -defence. His incomprehensible right eye twinkled merrily, and -discomposed my mind, and gave me no chance of reading his intentions. -It is needless to say more. The contest lasted scarce eight minutes. -Then I made a head-cut which he guarded skilfully, and when on the -return my blade hung more loose in my hand he smote so surely and well -that, being struck near the hilt, it flew from my hand and fell in the -burn. - -He flung down his weapon and shook me warmly by the hand. - -"Ah, now I feel better," said he. "I need something of this sort every -little while to put me in a good humour with the world. And, sir, let -me compliment you on your appearance. Most admirable, most creditable! -But oh, am I not a master in the craft?" - -So with friendly adieux we parted. We had never asked each other's name -and knew naught of each other's condition, but that single good-natured -contest had made us friends; and if ever I see that one-eyed man again -in life I shall embrace him like a brother. For myself, at that moment, -I felt on terms of good-comradeship with all, and pursued my way in a -settled cheerfulness. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - HOW A MILLER STROVE WITH HIS OWN MILL-WHEEL - - -I lay that night on the bare moors, with no company save the birds, and -no covering save a dry bush of heather. The stars twinkled a myriad -miles away, and the night airs blew soft, and I woke in the morning as -fresh as if I had lain beneath the finest coverlet on the best of linen. -Near me was a great pool in a burn, and there I bathed, splashing to my -heart's content in the cold water. Then I ate my breakfast, which was -no better than the remnants of the food I had brought away with me the -day before from Smitwood; but I gulped it down heartily and hoped for -something better. There will be so much complaining, I fear, in my tale -ere it is done, that I think it well to put down all my praise of the -place and the hours which passed pleasingly. - -By this time I was on a little plateau, near the great black hill of -Coomb Dod, a place whence three streams flow--the Camps Water and the -Coulter Water to the Clyde, and the burn of Kingledoors to Tweed. Now -here had I been wise I should at once have gone down the last-named to -the upper waters of Tweed near the village of Tweedsmuir, whence I might -have come without danger to the wilder hills and the Cor Water -hiding-place. But as I stayed there desire came violently upon me to go -down to the fair green haughlands about the Holmes Water, which is a -stream which rises not far off the Kingledoors burn, but which flows -more to the north and enters Tweed in the strath of Drummelzier not -above a few miles from Barns itself and almost at the door of Dawyck. -There I knew was the greater danger, because it lay on the straight line -between Abington and Peebles, a way my cousin Gilbert travelled often in -those days. But I was not disposed at that moment to think of -gradations of danger; and indeed, after my encounter on the previous -afternoon, I was in a haphazard, roystering mood, and would have asked -for nothing better than a chance of making holes in my cousin or his -company. - -Now in Holmes Water glen there dwelled many who would receive me gladly -and give me shelter and food if I sought it. There were the Tweedies of -Quarter and Glencotho, kin to myself on the mother's side, not to speak -of a score of herds whom I had dealings with. But my uppermost reason -was to see once more that lovely vale, the fairest, unless it be the -Manor, in all the world. It is scarce six miles long, wide at the -bottom and set with trees and rich with meadows and cornland, but -narrowing above to a long, sinuous green cleft between steep hills. And -through it flows the clearest water on earth, wherein dwell the best -trout--or did dwell, for, as I write, I have not angled in it for many -days. I know not how I can tell of the Holmes Water. It tumbles clear -and tremulous into dark brown pools. In the shallows it is like -sunlight, in the falls like virgin snow. And overall the place hangs a -feeling of pastoral quiet and old romance, such as I never knew -elsewhere. - -Midday found me in the nick of the hill above Glencotho debating on my -after course. I had it in my mind to go boldly in and demand aid from -my kinsman. But I reflected that matters were not over-pleasant between -us at the time. My father had mortally offended him on some occasion -(it would be hard to name the Tweedside gentleman whom my father had not -mortally angered), and I could scarce remember having heard that the -quarrel had been made up. I knew that in any case if I entered they -would receive me well for the honour of the name; but I am proud, and -like little to go to a place where I am not heartily welcome. So I -resolved to go to Francie Smails, the herd's, and from him get direction -and provender. - -The hut was built in a little turn of the water beneath a high bank. I -knocked at the door, not knowing whether some soldier might not come to -it, for the dragoons were quartered everywhere. But no one came save -Francie himself, a great, godly man who lived alone, and cared not for -priest or woman. He cried aloud when he saw me. - -"Come in by," he says, "come in quick; this is nae safe place the noo." - -And he pulled me in to the hearth, where his mid-day meal was standing. -With great good-will he bade me share it, and afterward, since he had -heard already of my case and had no need for enlightenment thereon, he -gave me his good counsel. - -"Ye maunna bide a meenute here," he said. "I'll pit up some cauld braxy -and bread for ye, for it's a' I have at this time o' year. Ye maun get -oot o' the glen and aff to the hills wi' a' your pith, for some o' -Maister Gilbert's men passed this morn on their way to Barns, and -they'll be coming back afore nicht. So ye maun be aff, and I counsel ye -to tak the taps o' the Wormel and syne cross the water abune the Crook, -and gang ower by Talla and Fruid to the Cor. Keep awa' frae the Clyde -hills for ony sake, for they're lookit like my ain hill i' the lambin' -time; and though it's maybe safer there for ye the noo, in a wee it'll -be het eneuch. But what are ye gaun to dae? Ye'll be makkin' a try to -win ower the sea, for ye canna skip aboot on thae hills like a paitrick -for ever. - -"I do not know," said I; "I have little liking for another sea journey, -unless all else is hopeless. I will bide in the hills as long as I can, -and I cannot think that the need will be long. For I have an inkling, -and others beside me, that queer things will soon happen." - -"Guid send they dae," said he, and I bade him good-bye. I watched him -striding off to the hill, and marvelled at the life ne led. Living from -one year's end to another on the barest fare, toiling hard on the barren -steeps for a little wage, and withal searching his heart on his long -rounds by the canon of the book of God. A strange life and a hard, yet -no man knows what peace may come out of loneliness. - -Now had I taken his advice I should have been saved one of the most -vexatious and hazardous episodes of my life. But I was ever -self-willed, and so, my mind being set on going down the Holmes vale, I -thought nothing of going near the Wormel, but set off down the bridle -way, as if I were a King's privy councillor and not a branded exile. - -I kept by the stream till patches of fields began to appear and the -roofs of the little clachan. Then I struck higher up on the hillside -and kept well in the shade of a little cloud of birk trees which lay -along the edge of the slope. It was a glorious sunny day, such as I -scarce ever saw surpassed, though I have seen many weathers under many -skies. The air was as still and cool as the first breath of morning, -though now it was mid-afternoon. All the nearer hills stood out -clear-lined and silent; a bird sang in the nigh thicket; sheep bleated -from the meadow, and around the place hung the low rustle of the life of -the woods. - -Soon I came to a spot above the bend of the water near the house called -Holmes Mill. There dwelt my very good friend the miller, a man blessed -with as choice a taste in dogs as ever I have seen, and a great Whig to -boot--both of which tricks he learned from a Westland grandfather. -Lockhart was his name, and his folk came from the Lee near the town of -Lanark to this green Tweedside vale. From the steading came the sound -of life. There was a great rush of water out of the dam. Clearly the -miller was preparing for his afternoon's labours. The wish took me -strongly to go down and see him, to feel the wholesome smell of grinding -corn, and above all to taste his cakes, which I had loved of old. So -without thinking more of it, and in utter contempt for the shepherd's -warning, I scrambled down, forded the water, and made my way to the -house. - -Clearly something was going on at the mill, and whatever it was there -was a great to-do. Sounds of voices came clear to me from the -mill-door, and the rush of the water sang ever in my ears. The miller -has summoned his family to help him, thought I: probably it is the -lifting of the bags to the mill-loft. - -But as I came nearer I perceived that it was not a mere chatter of -friendly tongues, but some serious matter. There was a jangling note, a -sound as of a quarrel and an appeal. I judged it wise therefore to keep -well in the shadow of the wall and to go through the byre and up to the -loft by an old way which I remembered--a place where one could see all -that passed without being seen of any. - -And there sure enough was a sight to stagger me. Some four soldiers with -unstrung muskets stood in the court, while their horses were tethered to -a post. Two held the unhappy miller in their stout grip, and at the back -his wife and children were standing in sore grief. I looked keenly at -the troopers, and as I looked I remembered all too late the shepherd's -words. They were part of my cousin's company, and one I recognised as -my old friend Jan Hamman of the Alphen Road and the Cor Water. - -The foremost of the soldiers was speaking. - -"Whig though you be," said he "you shall hae a chance of life. You look -a man o' muscle. I'll tell you what I'll dae. Turn on the sluice and -set the mill-wheel gaun, and then haud on to it; and if you can keep it -back, your life you shall hae, as sure as my name's Tam Gordon. But gin -you let it gang, there'll be four bullets in you afore you're an hour -aulder, and a speedy meeting wi' your Maker. Do you wish to mak the -trial?" - -Now the task was hopeless from the commencement, for big though a man -be, and the miller was as broad and high a man as one may see in -Tweeddale, he has no chance against a mill-race. But whether he thought -the thing possible or whether he wanted to gain a few minutes' respite -from death, the man accepted and took off his coat to the task. He -opened the sluice and went forward to the wheel. - -Soon the water broke over with a rush and the miller gripped a spoke -like grim death. For a moment the thing was easy, for it takes some -minutes for the water to gather body and force. But in a little it -became harder, and the sinews on his bare arms began to swell with the -strain. But still he held on valiantly and the wheel moved never an -inch. Soon the sweat began to run over his face, and the spray from the -resisted water bespattered him plentifully. Then the strain became -terrible. His face grew livid as the blood surged to his head, his -eyeballs stood out, and his arms seemed like to be torn from their -sockets. The soldiers, with the spirit of cruel children, had forgot -their weapons, and crowded round the wheel to see the sport. - -I saw clearly that he could not hold out much longer, and that unless I -wanted to see a friend butchered before my eyes I had better be up and -doing. We were two resolute men; I armed and with considerable skill of -the sword, he unarmed, but with the strength of a bull. The most -dangerous things about our opponents were their weapons. Could I but -get between them and their muskets we could make a fight for it yet. - -Suddenly as I looked the man failed. With a sob of weariness he loosed -his hold. The great wheel caught the stream and moved slowly round, and -he almost fell along with it. His tormentors laughed cruelly, and were -about to seize him and turn back, when I leaped from the loft window -like some bolt from a clear sky. - -My head was in a whirl and I had no thought of any plan. I only knew -that I must make the venture at any cost, or else be branded in my soul -as a coward till my dying day. - -I fell and scrambled to my feet. - -"Lockhart," I cried, "here man, here. Run." - -He had the sense to see my meaning. Exhausted though he was, he broke -from his astonished captors, and in a moment was beside me and the -weapons. - -As I looked on them I saw at a glance where our salvation lay. - -"Take these two," I said, pointing to the muskets. "I will take the -others." - -I cleared my throat and addressed the soldiers. "Now, gentlemen," said -I, "once more the fortune of war has delivered you into my hands. We, -as you perceive, command the weapons. I beg your permission to tell you -that I am by no means a poor shot with the musket, and likewise that I -do not stick at trifles, as doubtless my gallant friend Master Hamman -will tell you." - -The men were struck dumb with surprise to find themselves thus taken at -a disadvantage. They whispered for a little among themselves. -Doubtless the terrors of my prowess had been so magnified by the victims -in the last escapade to cover their shame that I was regarded as a -veritable Hector. - -"Are you the Laird of Barns?" said the leader at last, very politely. - -I bowed. - -"Then give us leave to tell you that we are nane sae fond o' the -Captain, your cousin," said he, thinking to soothe me. - -"So much the worse for my cousin," said I. - -"Therefore we are disposed to let you gang free." - -"I am obliged," said I, "but my cousin is my cousin, and I tolerate no -rebellion toward one so near of blood. I am therefore justified, -gentlemen, in using your own arms against you, since I have always -believed that traitors were shot." - -At this they looked very glum. At last one of them spoke up--for after -all they were men. - -"If ye'll tak the pick o' ony yin o' us and stand up to him wi' the -sma'-sword, we'll agree to bide by the result." - -"I thank you," I said, "but I am not in the mood for sword exercise. -However, I shall be merciful, though that is a quality you have shown -little of. You shall have your horses to ride home on, but your arms you -shall leave with me as a pledge of your good conduct. Strip, -gentlemen." - -And strip they did, belt and buckler, pistol and sword. Then I bade -them go, not without sundry compliments as one by one they passed by me. -There were but four of them, and we had all the arms, so the contest was -scarcely equal. Indeed my heart smote me more than once that I had not -accepted the fellow's offer to fight. The leader spoke up boldly to my -face. - -"You've gotten the better o' us the noo, but it'll no be long afore -you're gettin' your kail through the reek, Master John Burnet." - -At which I laughed and said 'twas a truth I could not deny. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - I WITNESS A VALIANT ENDING - - -They had scarce been five minutes gone when the full folly of my action -dawned upon me. To be sure I had saved the miller from death, but I had -now put my own neck in the noose. I had given them a clue to my -whereabouts: more, I had brought the hunt down on lower Tweeddale, which -before had been left all but unmolested. It was war to the knife. I -could look for no quarter, and my only chance lay in outstripping my -pursuers. The dragoons dared not return immediately, for four unarmed -soldiers would scarcely face two resolute men, fully armed and strongly -posted. They could only ride to Abington, and bring the whole hornets' -nest down on my head. - -Another reflection had been given to me by the sight of these men. In -all likelihood Gilbert had now returned and resumed the chief command of -the troop, for otherwise there would have been no meaning in the journey -to Dawyck and lower Tweeddale which these fellows had taken. And now -that my dear cousin had come back I might look for action. There was now -no more any question of foolish and sluggish soldiery to elude, but a -man of experience and, as I knew well, of unmatched subtlety. - -The miller was for thanking me on his knees for my timely succour, but I -cut him short. "There is no time," said I, "for long thanks. You must -take to the hills, and if you follow my advice you will hold over to the -westlands where your friends are, and so keep the pursuit from -Tweeddale, which little deserves it. As for myself, I will go up the -Wormel, and hide among the scrogs of birk till evening. For the hills -are too bare and the light too clear to travel by day. To be kenspeckle -in these times is a doubtful advantage." - -So without more ado I took myself off, crossed the fields with great -caution, and going up a little glen in the side of the big hill, found a -very secure hiding-place in the lee of a craig among a tangle of hazel -bushes. I had taken some food with me from the mill to provision me -during my night journey, and now I used a little of it for my afternoon -meal. In this place I lay all the pleasant hours after midday till I -saw the shadows lengthen and the sun flaming to its setting over the -back of Caerdon. Then the cool spring darkness came down on the earth, -and I rose and shook myself and set out on my way. - -I shall ever remember that long night walk over hill and dale to the Cor -Water for many reasons. First, from the exceeding beauty of the night, -which was sharp and yet not cold, with a sky glittering with stars, and -thin trails of mist on the uplands. Second, from the exceeding roughness -of the way, which at this season of the year makes the hills hard for -walking on. The frost and snow loosen the rocks, and there are wide -stretches of loose shingle, which is an accursed thing to pass over. -Third, and above all, for the utter fatigue into which I fell just past -the crossing of Talla. The way was over the Wormel and the Logan Burn -hills as far as Kingledoors. There I forded Tweed and struck over the -low ridge to Talla Water. Thence the way was straight, and much the -same as that which I had come with Marjory. But now I had no such dear -escort, and I give my word that my limbs ached and my head swam -oftentimes ere I reached my journey's end. - -It was early dawning when I crossed the last ridge and entered the Cor -Water valley. There was no sign of life in that quiet green glen, a -thing that seemed eerie when one thought that somewhere in the hill in -front men were dwelling. I found that short as had been my absence I -had almost forgotten the entrance to the cave, and it was not without -difficulty that I made out the narrow aperture in the slate-grey rock, -and entered. - -In the first chamber all was dark, which struck me with astonishment, -since at five o'clock on a good spring day folk should be stirring. But -all was still, and it was not till I had come into the second chamber, -which, as I have told, was the largest in the place, that there were any -signs of life. This was illumined in the first instance by a narrow -crevice in the rock which opened into a small ravine. The faint -struggling light was yet sufficient to see with, and by its aid I made -out the old man who had spoken with me on that first night of my -journey. - -He was sitting alone, staring before him as is the way with the blind, -but at the sound of my steps he rose slowly to his feet. One could see -that the natural acuteness of his hearing was little impaired by years. -I paused at the threshold and he stood listening; then he sank back in -his seat as if convinced it was no enemy. - -"Come in, John Burnet," he said, "I ken you well. How have you fared -since you left us? I trust you have placed the maid in safe keeping." - -I had heard before of that marvellous quickness of perception which they -possess who have lost some other faculty; but I had never yet had -illustration of it. So I was somewhat surprised, as I told him that all -as yet was well, and that my lady was in good hands. - -"It is well," said he; "and, Master Burnet, I fear you have come back to -a desolate lodging. As ye see, all are gone and only I am left. -Yestreen word came that that had happened which we had long expected. -There was once a man among us whom we cast out for evil living. He has -proved the traitor and there is no more safety here. They scattered -last night, the puir feckless folk, to do for themselves among the moors -and mosses, and I am left here to wait for the coming of the enemy." - -"Do you hold your life so cheap," I cried, "that you would cast it away -thus? I dare not suffer you to bide here. I would be a coward indeed -if I did not take care of you." - -A gleam of something like pleasure passed over his worn face. But he -spoke gravely. "No, you are too young and proud and hot in blood. You -think that a strong arm and a stout heart can do all. But I have a work -to do in which none can hinder me. My life is dear to me, and I would -use it for the best. But you, too, are in danger here; the soldiers may -come at any moment. If you go far to the back you'll find a narrow way -up which you can crawl. It'll bring ye out on the back side of the hill. -Keep it well in mind, lad, when the time comes. But now, sit ye down, -and give us your crack. There's a heap o' things I want to speir at ye. -And first, how is auld Veitch at Smitwood? I once kenned him well, when -he was a young, 'prising lad; but now I hear he's sair fallen in years -and gien ower to the pleasures of eating and drinking." - -I told him all of the laird of Smitwood that I could remember. - -"It would be bonny on the muirs o' Clyde in this weather. I havena been -out o' doors for mony a day, but I would like fine to feel the hill-wind -and the sun on my cheek. I was aye used wi' the open air," and his -voice had a note of sorrow. - -To me it seemed a strange thing that in the presence of the most deadly -danger this man should be so easy and undisturbed. I confess that I -myself had many misgivings and something almost approaching fear. There -was no possibility of escape now, for though one made his way out of the -cave when the soldiers came, there was little hiding on the bare -hillside. This, of course, was what the old man meant when he bade me -stay and refused to go out of doors. It was more than I could do to -leave him, but yet I ever feared the very thought of dying like a rat in -a hole. My forebodings of my death had always been of an open, windy -place, with a drawn sword and more than one man stark before me. It was -with downcast eyes that I waited for the inevitable end, striving to -commend my soul to God and repent of my past follies. - -Suddenly some noise came to the quick ear of the old man, and he stood -up quivering. - -"John," he cried, "John, my lad, gang to the place I told ye. Ye'll -find the hole where I said it was, and once there ye needna fear." - -'Twas true, I was afraid, but I had given no signs of fear, and he had -little cause to speak of it. "Nay," I said haughtily, "I will not move -from your side. It were a dastardly thing to leave you, and the two of -us together may account for some of the fiends. Besides there is as -much chance of life here as out on the braeside, where a man can be seen -for miles." - -He gripped me fiercely by the arm so that I almost cried out for pain, -and his voice came shrill and strange. "Gang where I tell ye, ye puir -fool. Is this a time for sinfu' pride o' honour or mettle? Ye know not -what evil is coming upon these men. Gang quick lest ye share it also." - -Something in his voice, in his eye, overcame me, and I turned to obey -him. - -As I went he laid his hand on my head. "The blessing o' man availeth -little, but I pray God that He be ever near you and your house, and that -ye may soon hae a happy deliverance from all your afflictions. God bless -and keep ye ever, and bring ye at the end to His ain place." - -With a heart beating wildly between excitement and sorrow I found the -narrow crevice, and crept upward till I came to the turning which led to -the air. Here I might have safely hid for long, and I was just on the -point of going back to the old man and forcing him to come with me to -the same place of refuge, when I heard the sound of men. - -From my vantage-ground I could see the whole cave clearly and well. I -could hear the noise of soldiers fumbling about the entrance, and the -voice of the informer telling the way. I could hear the feet stumbling -along the passage, the clink of weapons, and the muttered words of -annoyance; and then, as I peered warily forth, I saw the band file into -the cave where sat the old man alone. It was as I expected: they were -some twenty men of my cousin's company, strangers to me for the most: -but what most occupied my thoughts was that Gilbert was not with them. - -"By God, they're off," said the foremost, "and nothing left but this -auld dotterel. This is a puir haul. Look you here, you fellow," -turning to the guide, "you are a liar and a scoundrel, and if your thick -hide doesna taste the flat o' my sword ere you're five hours aulder, my -name's no Peter Moriston. You," this to the old man, "what's your name, -brother well-beloved in the Lord?" - -At their first coming he had risen to his feet and taken his stand in -the middle of the cave, by the two great stone shafts which kept up the -roof, for all the word like the pillars in some mighty temple. There he -stood looking over their heads at something beyond, with a strange, -almost pitying smile, which grew by degrees into a frown of anger. - -"Ye've come here to taunt me," said he, "but the Lord has prepared for -you a speedy visitation. Puir fools, ye shall go down quick to the -bottomless pit like Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, and none shall be left to -tell the tale of you. Ye have led braw lives. Ye have robbed the widow -and the fatherless, ye have slain by your numbers men ye darena have -come near singly, ye have been the devil's own braw servants, and, lads, -ye'll very soon get your wages. Ye have made thae bonny lands o' -Tweedside fit to spew ye forth for your wickedness. And ye think that -there is nae jealous God in Heaven watching ower you and your doings and -biding His time to repay. But, lads, ye're wrang for yince. The men ye -thocht to take are by this time far from ye, and there is only one left, -an auld feckless man, that will no bring muckle credit to ye. But God -has ordained that ye shall never leave here, but mix your banes to a' -time wi' the hillside stanes. God hae pity on your souls, ye that had -nae pity on others in your lives." - -And even as I watched, the end came, sudden and awful. Stretching out -his great arms, he caught the two stone shafts and with one mighty -effort pushed them asunder. I held my breath with horror. With a roar -like a world falling the roof came down, and the great hillside sank -among a ruin of rock. I was blinded by dust even in my secure seat, and -driven half-mad with terror and grief. I know not how I got to the air, -but by God's good providence the passage where I lay was distinct from -the cave, and a rift in the solid rock. As it was, I had to fight with -falling splinters and choking dust all the way. At last--and it seemed -ages--I felt free air and a glimmer of light, and with one fresh effort -crawled out beneath a tuft of bracken. - -And this is why at this day there is no cave at the Cor Water, nothing -but the bare side of a hill strewn with stones. - -When I gained breath to raise myself and look around, the sight was -strange indeed. The vast cloud of dust was beginning to settle and the -whole desolation lay clear. I know not how to tell of it. It was like -some battlefield of giants of old time. Great rocks lay scattered amid -the beds of earth and shingle, and high up toward the brow of the hill -one single bald scarp showed where the fall had begun. - -A hundred yards away, by his horse's side, gazing with wild eyes at the -scene, stood a dragoon, doubtless the one whom the ill-fated company had -set for guard. I hastened toward him as fast as my weak knees would -carry me, and I saw without surprise that he was the Dutchman, Jan -Hamman, whom I had already met thrice before. He scarce was aware of my -presence, but stood weeping with weakness and terror, and whimpering -like a child. I took him by the shoulder and shook him, until at last I -had brought him back to his senses, and he knew me. - -"Where are they gone?" and he pointed feebly with his finger to the -downfall. - -"To their own place," I said, shortly. "But tell me one word. Where is -your captain, Gilbert Burnet, that he is not with you to-day?" - -The man looked at me curiously. - -"He is gone on another errand, down Tweed toward Peebles." - -Then I knew he was seeking for Marjory high and low and would never rest -till he found her. - -"I will let you go," said I to the man, "that you may carry the tidings -to the rest. Begone with you quick. I am in no mood to look on such as -you this day." - -The man turned and was riding off, when he stopped for one word. "You -think," he said, "that I am your enemy and your cousin's friend, and -that I serve under the captain for his own sweet sake. I will tell you -my tale. Three years ago this Captain Gilbert Burnet was in Leyden, and -there also was I, a happy, reputable man, prosperous and contented, with -the prettiest sweetheart in all the town. Then came this man. I need -not tell what he did. In a year he had won over the silly girl to his -own desires, and I was a ruined man for evermore. I am a servant in his -company who worked my fall. Remember then that the nearer I am to -Gilbert Burnet the worse it will fare with him." And he rode off, still -pale and shivering with terror. - -I mused for some time with myself. Truly, thought I, Gilbert has his -own troubles, and it will go hard with him if his own men turn against -him. And I set it down in my mind that I would do my best to warn him of -the schemes of the foreigner. For though it was my cousin's own -ill-doing that had brought him to this, and my heart burned against him -for his villainy, it was yet right that a kinsman should protect one of -the house against the plots of a common soldier. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - I RUN A NARROW ESCAPE FOR MY LIFE - - -This was in April, and now the summer began to grow over the land. The -days grew longer and the air more mild, the flowers came out on the -hills, little mountain pansies and eyebright and whortleberry, and the -first early bells of the heath; the birds reared their young and the air -was all filled with the cries of them; and in the streams the trout grew -full-fleshed and strong. - -And all through these days I lay close hid in the wilds, now in one -place, now in another, never wandering far from Tweeddale. My first -hiding was in a narrow glen at the head of the Polmood Burn in a place -called Glenhurn. It was dark and lonesome, but at first the pursuit was -hot after me and I had no choice in the matter. I lived ill on the fish -of the burn and the eggs of wildfowl, with what meal I got from a -shepherd's house at the burn foot. These were days of great -contemplation, of long hours spent on my back in the little glen of -heather, looking up to the summer sky and watching the great clouds -fleeting athwart it. No sound came to disturb me, I had few cares to -vex me; it was like that highest state of being which Plotinus spoke of, -when one is cumbered not with the toils of living. Here I had much -grave communing with myself on the course of my life, now thinking upon -it with approval, now much concerned at its futility. I had three very -warring moods of mind. One was that of the scholar, who would flee from -the roughness of life. This came upon me when I thought of the -degradation of living thus in hiding, of sorting with unlettered men, of -having no thoughts above keeping body and soul together. The second was -that of my father's son, whose pride abhorred to flee before any man and -hide in waste places from low-born soldiers and suffer others to devour -my patrimony. But the third was the best, and that which I ever sought -to keep with me. It was that of the gentleman and cavalier who had a -wide, good-humoured outlook upon the world, who cared not for houses and -lands, but sought above all things to guard his honour and love. When -this was on me I laughed loud at all my misfortunes, and felt brave to -meet whatever might come with a light heart. - -In this place I abode till near the middle of the month of June. Twice -I had gone to the cairn on Caerdon and left a letter, which I wrote with -vast difficulty on fragments of paper which I had brought with me, and -received in turn Marjory's news. She was well and in cheerful spirits, -though always longing for my return. The days passed easily in -Smitwood, and as none came there she was the better hidden. I wrote my -answers to these letters with great delight of mind, albeit much -hardship. The ink in the inkhorn which I had always carried with me -soon became dry, and my pen, which I shaped from a curlew's feather, was -never of the best. Then after the writing came the long journey, -crouching in thickets, creeping timorously across the open spaces, -running for dear life down the hill-slopes, until I came at length to -the cairn on Caerdon, and hid the letter 'neath the grey stones. - -But about mid June I bethought me that I had stayed long enough in that -lonely place and resolved to move my camp. For one thing I wished to -get nearer Barns, that I might be within reach of my house for such -provisions as I required. Also there were signs that the place was no -longer safe. Several times of late I had heard the voice of soldiers on -the moors above my hiding, and at any moment a chance dragoon might -stray down the ravine. So late one evening about midsummer I bade adieu -to the dark Glenhurn, and took off across the wild hills to the lower -vale of Tweed. - -The place I chose was just at the back of Scrape, between that mountain -and a wild height called the Pyke-stone hill. It was a stretch of -moss-hags and rough heather, dry as tinder at this time, but, as I well -knew, in late autumn and winter a treacherous flow. Thither I had been -wont to go to the duck-shooting in the months of November and February, -when great flocks of mallard and teal settled among the pools. Then one -has to look well to his feet, for if he press on eager and unthinking, -he is like to find himself up to the armpits. But if he know the way of -the thing, and walk only on the tufted rushes and strips of black peat, -he may take the finest sport that I know of. Here then I came, for the -place was high and lonesome, and with a few paces I could come to the -top of the Little Scrape and see the whole vale of Tweed from -Drummelzier to Neidpath. I had the less fear of capture, for the place -was almost impassable for horses; also it was too near the house of -Barns to be directly suspected, and the country below it was still loyal -and with no taint of whiggery. - -Here then I settled myself, and made a comfortable abode in a dry -burn-channel, overarched with long heather. The weather was unusually -warm and dry, the streams were worn to a narrow thread of silver -trickling among grey stones, and the hot sun blazed from morn to night -in a cloudless sky. The life, on the whole, was very pleasing. There -was cold water from a mossy well hard by when I was thirsty. As for -food, I made at once an expedition to the nearest cottage on my lands, -where dwelt one Robin Sandilands, who straightway supplied all my needs -and gave me much useful information to boot. Afterwards he came every -second day to a certain part of the hill with food, which he left there -for me to take at my convenience. Hence the fare was something better -than I had had in my previous hiding-place. Also it was a cheerful -life. Up there on the great flat hill-top, with nothing around me but -the sky and the measureless air, with no noises in my ear but the -whistle of hill-birds, with no view save great shoulders of mountain, -the mind was raised to something higher and freer than of old. Earthly -troubles and little squabbles and jealousies seemed of less account. -The more than Catonian gravity of these solemn uplands put to flight all -pettiness and small ambition. It has been an immemorial practice in our -borderland that those of ruined fortunes, broken men, should take to the -hills for concealment, if need be, and in any case for satisfaction. -Verily twelve months of that pure air would make a gentleman of a knave, -and a hero of the most sordid trader. - -However, ere June had merged in July, I found myself in want of some -companion to cheer my solitude. I would have given much for some -like-minded fellow-wayfarer, but since that might not be had I was fain -to content myself with a copy of Plotinus, which I had got with all the -difficulty in the world from the house of Barns. It happened on a warm -afternoon, when, as I lay meditating as was my wont in the heather, a -great desire came upon me for some book to read in. Nothing would do -but that I must straightway set out for Barns at the imminent peril of -my own worthless life. It was broad daylight; men were working in the -fields at the hay; travellers were passing on the highway; and for all I -knew soldiers were in the house. But with a mad recklessness I ventured -on the quest, and, entering the house boldly, made my way to the library -and was choosing books. Then I was startled by the noise of approaching -steps, and seizing hastily the first volume I could lay hands on, set -off for the hills at the top of my speed. The visit had renewed old -recollections, and I spent a bitter evening reflecting upon my altered -position. - -But toward the end of August, when the nights grew longer and the -sunsets stormy, a change came over the weather. The Lammas floods first -broke the spell of the drought, and for three clear days the rain fell -in torrents, while I lay in my hole, cold and shivering. These were -days of suffering and hunger, though I shrink from writing of them and -have never told them to anyone. On the fourth I made an incursion down -to my own lands to the cottage of my ally. There I heard evil news. -The soldiers had come oftener than of late and the hunt had been -renewed. The reward on my head had been doubled, and with much sorrow I -had the news that the miller of Holmes Mill had been taken and carried -to Edinburgh. In these dim grey days my courage fell, and it took all -the consolations of philosophy, all my breeding and manly upbringing to -keep up my heart. Also it became more difficult to go at the three -weeks' end to the cairn on Caerdon with the letter for Marjory. - -It was, as far as I remember, for I did not keep good count, on the -second day of September, that I set out for Caerdon on my wonted errand. -I had had word from Robin Sandilands that the countryside was perilous; -but better, I thought, that I should run into danger than that my lady -should have any care on my account. So I clapped the written letter in -my pocket and set out over the hills in a fine storm of wind. - -I went down the little burn of Scrape, which flows into Powsail about a -mile above the village of Drummelzier. Had I dared I would have crossed -the low lands just above the village, and forded Tweed at Merlin's -Grave, and so won to Caerdon by Rachan and Broughton. But now it -behooved me to be cautious, so I kept straight over the hills; and, -striking the source of a stream called Hopecarton, followed it to where -it joined the river in the Mossfennan haughs. All the time the wind -whistled in my teeth and the sharpest of showers bit into my skin. I -was soon soaked to the bone, for which I cared very little, but pushed -steadfastly on through the rapidly-rising waters of Tweed, and scrambled -up the back of the Wormel. Here it was stiff work, and my legs ached -mightily ere I reached the top and flung myself on the damp heather to -spy out the Holmes valley. - -All seemed quiet. The stream, now changed from its clearness to a muddy -brown, was rolling on its way though the fields of stubble. The few -houses smoked in peace. The narrow road was empty of travellers.... -Without hesitation I ran down the slopes, caring not to look -circumspectly to the left and right.... - -I had not run far till something before me brought me to a halt and sent -me flat among the grass. Just below the house of Quarter, coming from -the cover of the trees, were half a score of soldiers. - -My first thought was to turn back and give up the project. My second, -to go forward and find a way to cross the valley. Happily the foliage -was still there, the heath was still long, the grass was dense: a man -might succeed in crossing under cover. - -With a beating heart I crawled through the heather to the rushes beside -a little stream. This I followed, slowly, painfully, down to the -valley, looking sharply at every bare spot, and running for dear life -when under cover of bank or brae. By and by I struck the road, and -raised myself for a look. All was quiet. There was no sign of any man -about, nothing but the beating of the rain and the ceaseless wind. It -was possible that they had gone down the vale, and were by this time out -of sight. Or maybe they had gone up the water on their way to the moors -of Clyde. Or still again they might have gone back to the house of -Quarter, which they doubtless loved better than the rainy out-of-doors. -In any case they were not there, and nothing hindered me from making a -bold sally across the open. - -I rose and ran through the corn-field, cleaving my way amid the thick -stubble. The heavy moisture clung to my soaked clothes and the sweat -ran over my face and neck, but I held straight on till I gained the -drystone dyke at the other side and scrambled across it. Here I fell -into the stream and was soaked again, but the place was not deep and I -was soon through. Now I was direct beneath the house, but somewhat -under the cover of the trees; and still there was no sign of man and -beast. I began to think that after all my eyes had deceived me, and -taken nowt for dragoons. Such a trick was not impossible; I had found -it happen before at the winter's shooting. With this pleasing hope I -straightened my back and ran more boldly up the planting's side till I -gained the moorlands above. Here I paused for a second to enjoy my -success and look back upon the house. - -Suddenly something cracked in the thicket, and a voice behind me cried, -"Stop. Gang another step and I fire." So the cup of safety was dashed -from my lips at the very moment of tasting it. - -I did not obey, but dashed forward to the high moors with all my speed. -It was conceivable that the men were unmounted and their horses stabled, -in which case I might get something of a lead. If not, I should very -soon know by the clear convincing proof of a shot in my body. - -My guess was right, and it was some little time ere I heard the cries of -pursuers behind me. I had made straight for the top of the ridge where -the ground was rough for horses, and I knew that they could not follow -me with any speed. I was aye a swift runner, having been made long and -thin in the shanks and somewhat deep-chested. I had often raced on the -lawn at Barns with my cousin for some trifling prize. Now I ran with him -again, but for the prize of my own life. - -I cannot tell of that race, and to this day the thought of it makes my -breath go faster. I only know that I leaped and stumbled and ploughed -my way over the hillside, sobbing with weariness and with my heart -almost bursting my ribs. I never once looked behind, but I could -measure the distance by the sound of their cries. The great, calm face -of Caerdon was always before me, mocking my hurry and feebleness. If I -could but gain the ridge of it, I might find safety in one of the deep -gullies. Now I had hope, now I had lost it and given myself up for as -good as dead. But still I kept on, being unwilling that anyone should -see me yield, and resolving that if I needs must die I would stave it -off as long as might be. - -In the end, after hours--or was it minutes?--I reached the crest and -crawled down the other side. They were still some distance behind and -labouring heavily. Near me was a little ravine down which a slender -trickle of flood-water fell in a long cascade. I plunged down it, and -coming to a shelter of overlapping rock crawled far in below, and -thanked God for my present safety. - -Then I remembered my errand and my letter. I clapped my hand to my -pocket to draw it forth. The place was empty--the letter was gone. -With a sickening horror I reflected that I had dropped it as I ran, and -that my enemies must have found it. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - I FALL IN WITH STRANGE FRIENDS - - -I lay there, still with fright and anxiety, while the wind roared around -my hiding-place, and the noise of the horses' feet came to my ears. My -first thought was to rush out and meet them, engage the company and get -the letter back by force. But a moment's reflection convinced me that -this was equal to rushing on my death. There was nothing for it but to -bide where I was, and pray that I might not be discovered. - -The noise grew louder, and the harsh voices of the men echoed in the -little glen. I lay sweating with fear and I know not what foreboding, -as I heard the clatter of hooves among the slates and the heavy tread of -those who had dismounted and were searching every tuft of heather. I -know not to this day how I escaped. It may be that their eyes were -blinded with mist and rain; it may be that my hiding-place was securer -than I thought, for God knows I had no time to choose it; it may be that -their search was but perfunctory, since they had got the letter; it may -be that they thought in their hearts that I had escaped ever the back of -Caerdon and searched only to satisfy their leader. At any rate, in a -little all was still, save for the sound of distant voices, and with -vast caution and great stiffness of body I drew myself from the hole. - -I have rarely felt more utterly helpless and downcast. I had saved my -skin, but only by a hairbreadth, and in the saving of it I had put the -match to my fortunes. For that luckless letter gave the man into whose -hands it might fall a clue to Marjory's whereabouts. It is true that the -thing was slight, but still it was there, and 'twas but a matter of time -till it was unravelled. All was up with me. Now that I was thus -isolated on Caerdon and the far western ridges of the Tweedside hills I -could have little hope of getting free, for to return to safety I must -cross either Holmes Water, which was guarded like a street, or the lower -Tweed, which, apart from the fact that it was in roaring flood, could no -more be passed by me than the gates of Edinburgh. But I give my word it -was not this that vexed me; nay, I looked forward to danger, even to -capture, with something akin to hope. But the gnawing anxiety gripped -me by the throat that once more my poor lass would be exposed to the -amenities of my cousin, and her easy, quiet life at Smitwood shattered -forever. An unreasoning fit of rage took me, and I dashed my foot on -the heather in my hopeless vexation. I cursed every soldier, and damned -Gilbert to the blackest torments which my heart could conjure. - -But rage, at the best, is vain and I soon ceased. It was indeed high -time that I should be bestirring myself. I could not stay where I was, -for in addition to being without food or decent shelter, I was there on -the very confines of the most dangerous country. Not two miles to the -north from the place where I lay the hills ceased, and the low-lying -central moorlands succeeded, which, as being a great haunt of the more -virulent Whigs, were watched by many bands of dragoons. If my life were -to be saved I must get back once more to the wild heights of the upper -Tweed. - -I climbed the gully and, keeping lower down the hill, made for the -mountain, named Coulter Fell, which is adjacent to Caerdon. I know not -why I went this way, save through a fantastic idea of getting to the -very head of the Holmes Water and crossing there. Every step I took led -me into more perilous ground, for it took me farther to the westward. -It was my sole chance, and in the teeth of the wind I wrestled on over -the long heather and grey sklidders, slipping and stumbling with -weariness and dispirit. Indeed I know not if anything could have -sustained me save the motto of my house, which came always to my mind. -_Virescit vulnere virtus_! The old proud saw cheered my heart -wondrously. I shall not shame my kin, said I to myself; it shall never -be said that misfortune did aught to one of my name save raise his -valour. - -When I reached the head of the ridge I thought that the way was clear -before me and that I had outdistanced my pursuers. I stood up boldly on -the summit and looked down on the Holmes Water head. The next minute I -had flung myself flat again and was hastening to retrace my steps. For -this was what I saw. All up the stream at irregular intervals dragoons -were beating the heather in their quest for me. Clearly they thought -that I had made for the low ground. Clearly, also, there was no hope of -escape in that quarter. - -With a heavy heart I held along the bald face of the great Coulter Fell. -I know no more heartless mountain on earth than that great black scarp, -which on that day flung its head far up into the mist. The storm, if -anything, had increased in fury. Every now and then there came a burst -of sharp hail, and I was fain to shelter for a moment by lying on the -earth. Very circumspectly I went, for I knew not when through the wall -of mist a gleam of buff coats or steel might meet me. In such a -fashion, half-creeping, half running, I made my way down the hills which -flank the Coulter Water, and came at length to the range of low hills -which look down upon Biggar and the lowlands of Clyde. - -I struggled to the top and looked over into the misty haughs. The day -was thick, yet not so thick that I could not see from this little -elevation the plain features of the land below. I saw the tail trees of -Coulter House and the grey walls and smoking chimney. Beyond was the -road, thick in mud, and with scarce a traveller. All seemed quiet, and -as I looked a wild plan came into my head. Why should I not go through -the very den of the lion? What hindered me from going down by the marsh -of Biggar and the woods of Rachan, and thence to my hiding-place? It -was the high roads that were unwatched in these days, and the byways -which had each their sentinel. - -But as I looked again the plan passed from my mind. For there below, -just issuing from the gateway of Coulter House, I saw a man on -horseback, and another, and still another. I needed no more. A glance -was sufficient to tell me their character and purport. Gilbert verily -had used his brains to better advantage than I had ever dreamed of. He -had fairly outwitted me, and the three airts of north and south and west -were closed against me. - -There still remained the east, and thither I turned. I was shut in on a -triangle of hill and moorland, some three miles in length and two in -breadth. At the east was the spur of hill at the foot of the Holmes -Water and above the house of Rachan. If I went thither I might succeed -in crossing the breadth of the valley and win to the higher hills. It -was but a chance, and in my present weakness I would as soon have laid -me down on the wet earth and gone to sleep. But I forced myself to go -on, and once more I battled with the snell weather. - -I do not very well remember how I crossed the Kilbucho glen, and -stumbled through the maze of little streams and sheep drains which cover -all the place. I had no more stomach for the work than an old dog has -for coursing. To myself I could give no reason for my conduct save a -sort of obstinacy which would not let me give in. At a place called -Blendewing I lay down on my face and drank pints of water from the -burn--a foolish action, which in my present condition was like to prove -dangerous. In the pine-wood at the back of the shieling I laid me down -for a little to rest, and when once more I forced myself to go on, I was -as stiff as a ship's figure-head. In this state I climbed the little -hills which line the burn, and came to the limit of the range above the -place called Whiteslade. - -It was now about two o'clock in the afternoon, and the storm, so far -from abating, grew every moment in fierceness. I began to go hot and -cold all over alternately, and the mist-covered hills were all blurred -to my sight like a boy's slate. Now, by Heaven, thought I, things are -coming at last to a crisis. I shall either die in a bog-hole, or fall -into my cousin's hands before this day is over. A strange perverted joy -took possession of me. I had nothing now to lose, my fortunes were so -low that they could sink no farther; I had no cause to dread either -soldier or weather. And then my poor silly head began to whirl, and I -lost all power of anticipation. - -To this day I do not know how I crossed the foot of the Holmes -valley--for this was what I did. The place was watched most jealously, -for Holmes Mill was there, and the junction of the roads to the upper -Tweed and the moors of Clyde. But the thing was achieved, and my next -clear remembrance is one of crawling painfully among the low birk -trees-and cliffs on the far side of the Wormel. My knees and hands were -bleeding, and I had a pain in my head so terrible that I forgot all -other troubles in this supreme one. - -It was now drawing towards evening. The grey rain-clouds had become -darker and the shadows crept over the sodden hills. All the world was -desert to me, where there was no shelter. Dawyck and Barns were in the -hands of the enemy. The cave of the Cor Water was no more. I had -scarce strength to reach my old hiding-place in the hags above Scrape, -and if I did get there I had not the power to make it habitable. A -gravelled and sanded couch with a heathery roof is pleasant enough in -the dry weather, but in winter it is no better than a bog-hole. - -Nevertheless I slid down the hill as best I could and set myself to -crossing the valley. It was half-filled with water pools which the -flood had left, and at the far side I saw the red, raging stream of -Tweed. I remember wondering without interest whether I should ever win -over or drown there. It was a matter of little moment to me. The fates -had no further power to vex me. - -But ere I reached the hillfoot I saw something which gave me pause, -reckless though I had come to be. On the one hand there was a glimpse -of men coming up the valley--mounted men, riding orderly as in a troop. -On the other I saw scattered soldiers dispersing over the haughland. -The thought was borne in upon me that I was cut off at last from all -hope of escape. I received the tidings with no fear, scarcely with -surprise. My sickness had so much got the better of me that though the -heavens had opened I would not have turned my head to them. But I still -staggered on, blindly, nervelessly, wondering in my heart how long I -would keep on my feet. - -But now in the little hollow I saw something before me, a glimpse of -light, and faces lit by the glow. I felt instinctively the near presence -of men. Stumbling towards it I went, groping my way as if I were -blindfold. Then some great darkness came over my brain and I sank on -the ground. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - THE BAILLIES OF NO MAN'S LAND - - -The next period in my life lies still in my mind like a dream. I have a -remembrance of awaking and an impression of light, and strange faces, -and then all was dark again. Of those days my memory is a blank; there -is nothing but a medley of sickness and weariness, light and blackness, -and the wild phantoms of a sick man's visions. - -When I first awoke to clear consciousness, it was towards evening in a -wild glen just below the Devil's Beef Tub at the head of the Annan. I -had no knowledge where I was. All that I saw was a crowd of men and -women around me, a fire burning and a great pot hissing thereon. All -that I heard was a babel of every noise, from the discordant cries of -men to the yelping of a pack of curs. I was lying on a very soft couch -made of skins and cloaks in the shade of a little roughly-made tent. -Beyond I could see the bare hillsides rising shoulder on shoulder, and -the sting of air on my cheek told me that it was freezing hard. But I -was not cold, for the roaring fire made the place warm as a baker's -oven. - -I lay still and wondered, casting my mind over all the events of the -past that I could remember. I was still giddy in the head, and the -effort made me close my eyes with weariness. Try as I would I could -think of nothing beyond my parting from Marjory at Smitwood. All the -events of my wanderings for the moment had gone from my mind. - -By and by I grew a little stronger, and bit by bit the thing returned to -me. I remembered with great vividness the weary incidents of my flight, -even up to its end and my final sinking. But still the matter was no -clearer. I had been rescued, it was plain, but by whom, when, where, -why? I lay and puzzled over the thing with a curious mixture of -indifference and interest. - -Suddenly a face looked in upon me, and a loud strident voice cried out -in a tongue which I scarce fully understood. The purport of its words -was that the sick man was awake and looking about him. In a minute the -babel was stilled, and I heard a woman's voice giving orders. Then some -one came to me with a basin of soup. - -"Drink, lad," said she; "ye've had a geyan close escape but a' is richt -wi' ye noo. Tak this and see how ye feel." - -The woman was tall and squarely built like a man; indeed, I cannot think -that she was under six feet. Her face struck me with astonishment, for I -had seen no woman for many a day since Marjory's fair face, and the -harsh commanding features of my nurse seemed doubly strange. For dress -she wore a black hat tied down over her ears with a 'kerchief, and -knotted in gipsy fashion beneath her chin. Her gown was of some -dark-blue camlet cloth, and so short that it scarce reached her knees, -though whether this fashion was meant for expedition in movement or -merely for display of gaudy stockings, I know not. Certainly her -stockings were monstrously fine, being of dark blue flowered with -scarlet thread, and her shoon were adorned with great buckles of silver. -Her outer petticoat was folded so as to make two large pockets on either -side, and in the bosom of her dress I saw a great clasp-knife. - -I drank the soup, which was made of some wild herbs known only to the -gipsy folk, and lay back on my couch. - -"Now, sleep a wee, lad," said the woman, "and I'll warrant ye'll be as -blithe the morn as ever." - -I slept for some hours, and when I awoke sure enough I felt mightily -strengthened. It was now eventide and the camp-fire had been made -larger to cook the evening meal. As I looked forth I could see men -squatting around it, broiling each his own piece of meat in the ashes, -while several cauldrons sputtered and hissed on the chains. It was a -wild, bustling sight, and as I lay and watched I was not sorry that I -had fallen into such hands. For I ever loved to see new things and -strange ways, and now I was like to have my fill. - -They brought me supper, a wild duck roasted and coarse home-made bread, -and a bottle of very tolerable wine, got I know not whence unless from -the cellars of some churlish laird. I ate it heartily, for I had fasted -long in my sickness, and now that I was recovered I had much to make up. - -Then the woman returned and asked me how I did. I told her, "Well," and -thanked her for her care, asking her how I had been rescued and where I -was. And this was the tale she told me. - -She was of the clan of the Baillies, the great gipsies of Tweeddale and -Clydesdale, offshoots of the house of Lamington, and proud as the devil -or John Faa himself. They had been encamped in the little haugh at the -foot of the Wormel on the night of my chase. They had heard a cry, and a -man with a face like death had staggered in among them and fainted at -their feet. Captain William Baillie, their leader, of whom more anon, -had often been well-entreated at Barns in my father's time, and had -heard of my misfortunes. He made a guess as to who I was and ordered -that I should be well looked after. Meantime the two companies of -soldiers passed by, suspecting nothing, and not troubling to look for -the object of their search, who all the while was lying senseless -beneath a gipsy tent. When all was safe they looked to my condition, -and found that I was in a raging fever with cold and fatigue. Now the -gipsies, especially those of our own countryside, are great adepts in -medicine, and they speedily had all remedies applied to me. For three -weeks I lay ill, delirious most of the time, and they bore me with them -in a litter in all their wanderings. I have heard of many strange -pieces of generosity, but of none more strange than this--to carry with -much difficulty a helpless stranger over some of the roughest land in -Scotland, and all for no other motive than sheer kindliness to a house -which had befriended them of old. With them I travelled over the wild -uplands of Eskdale and Ettrick, and with them I now returned to the -confines of Tweeddale. - -"The Captain's awa' just noo," added she, "but he'll be back the morn, -and blithe he'll be to see ye so weel." - -And she left me and I slept again till daybreak. - -When I awoke again it was morning, just such a day as the last, frosty -and clear and bright. I saw by the bustle that the camp was making -preparations for starting, and I was so well recovered that I felt fit -to join them. I no longer needed to be borne like a child in a litter, -but could mount horse and ride with the best of them. - -I had risen and gone out to the encampment and was watching the activity -of man and beast, when one advanced from the throng toward me. He was a -very tall, handsome man, dark in face as a Spaniard, with fine curling -moustachios. He wore a broad blue bonnet on his head, his coat was of -good green cloth and his small-clothes of black. At his side he carried -a sword and in his belt a brace of pistols, and save for a certain -foreign air in his appearance he seemed as fine a gentleman as one could -see in the land. He advanced to me and made me a very courtly bow, -which I returned as well as my still-aching back permitted me. - -"I am glad you are recovered, Master John Burnet," said he, speaking -excellent English, though with the broad accent which is customary to -our Scots lowlands. "Permit me to make myself known to you. I have the -honour to be Captain William Baillie at your service, captain of the -ragged regiment and the Egyptian guards." All this he said with as fine -an air as if he were His Majesty's first general. - -At the mention of his name I called to mind all I had heard of this -extraordinary man, the chief of all the south-country gipsies, and a -character as famous in those days and in those parts as Claverhouse or -my lord the King. He claimed to be a bastard of the house of Lamington, -and through his mother he traced descent, also by the wrong side of the -blanket, to the Gay Gordons themselves. Something of his assumed -gentrice showed in his air and manner, which was haughty and lofty as -any lord's in the land. But in his face, among wild passions and -unbridled desires, I read such shrewd kindliness that I found it in my -heart to like him. Indeed, while the tales of his crimes are hawked at -every fair, the tales of his many deeds of kindness are remembered in -lonely places by folk who have cause to bless the name of Baillie. This -same captain had indeed the manners of a prince, for when he bought -anything he was wont to give his purse in payment, and indignantly -refuse to receive change of any kind. It is only fair to add that the -money was not got by honest means, but by the plunder of the rich and -churlish. Yet though his ways were roguish his acts were often most -Christian-like and courteous, and there were worse men in higher places -that this William Baillie. More, he was reputed the best swordsman in -all Scotland, though, as being barred from the society of men of birth -and education, his marvellous talent was seldom seen. He was of the -most indomitable courage and self-possession, and even in the court, -when on his trial, he spoke fearlessly to his judges. I do not seek to -defend him; but to me and mine he did a good deed and I would seek to be -grateful. When long afterwards he was killed in a brawl in the alehouse -of Newarthill, I heard the tidings with some sorrow, for he died -bravely, though in an ignoble quarrel. - -He now informed me with great civility of the incidents of my escape and -sickness. When I thanked him he waved me off with a great air. - -"Tut, tut," said he, "that is a small matter between gentlefolk. I have -often had kindness from your father, and it is only seemly that I should -do my best for the son. Besides, it is not in my nature to see a man so -sore pressed by the soldiery and not seek to deliver him. It is a -predicament I have so often been in myself." - -A horse was brought for me, a little wiry animal, well suited for hills -and sure-footed as a goat. When I felt myself in the saddle once again, -even though it were but a gipsy hallion, I was glad; for to one who has -scrambled on his own feet for so many days, a horse is something like an -earnest of better times. Captain Baillie bade me come with him to -another place, where he showed me a heap of gipsy garments. "It is -necessary," said he, "if you would ride with us that you change your -appearance. One of your figure riding among us would be too kenspeckle -to escape folk's notice. You must let me stain your face, too, with the -juice which we make for our bairns' cheeks. It will wash off when you -want it, but till that time it will be as fast as sunburn." So taking a -crow's feather and dipping it in a little phial, he with much skill -passed it over my whole face and hands. Then he held a mirror for me to -look, and lo and behold, I was as brown as a gipsy or a Barbary Moor. I -laughed loud and long at my appearance, and when I was bidden put on a -long green coat, the neighbour of the captain's, and a pair of stout -untanned riding-boots, I swear my appearance was as truculent as the -roughest tinker's. - -Thus accoutred we set out, the men riding in front in pairs and threes, -the women behind with donkeys and baggage shelties. It was a queer -picture, for the clothing of all was bright-coloured, and formed a -strange contrast with the clear, chilly skies and the dim moor. There -was no fear of detection, for apart from the company that I was with, my -disguise was so complete that not even the most vigilant dragoon could -spy me out. Our road was that which I had already travelled often to my -own great weariness--down Tweed by Rachan and the Mossfennan haughs. I -had no guess at our destination; so when at Broughton we turned to the -westward and headed through the moss towards the town of Biggar, I was -not surprised. Nay, I was glad, for it brought me nearer to the west -country and Smitwood, whither I desired to go with the utmost speed. -For with my returning health my sorrows and cares came back to me more -fiercely than ever. It could not be that my cousin should find out -Marjory's dwelling-place at once, for in the letter there was no clear -information; only indefinite hints, which in time would bring him there. -The hope of my life was to reach the house before him and rescue my -love, though I had no fixed plan in my mind and would have been at a -sore loss for aid. Nevertheless, I was quieter in spirit, and more -hopeful. For, after all, thought I, though Gilbert get my lass, he yet -has me to deal with, and I will follow him to the world's end ere I let -him be. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - HOW THREE MEN HELD A TOWN IN TERROR - - -It was towards evening, a dark November evening, that we came near the -little town of Biggar. The place lies on a sandy bank raised from the -wide moss which extends for miles by the edge of the sluggish stream. -It is a black, desolate spot, where whaups and snipe whistle in the back -streets, and a lane, which begins from the causeway, may end in a pool -of dark moss-water. But the street is marvellous broad, and there, at -the tail of the autumn, is held one of the greatest fairs in the -lowlands of Scotland, whither hawkers and tinkers come in hordes, not to -speak of serving-men and serving-lasses who seek hire. For three days -the thing goes on, and for racket and babble it is unmatched in the -countryside. - -We halted before the entrance to the town on a square of dry in the -midst of the water-way. The weather had begun to draw to storm, and -from the east, great masses of rolling cloud came up, tinged red and -yellow with the dying sun. I know not how many the gipsies were, but, -with women and children, they were not less in number than ninety or a -hundred. They had with them a great quantity of gear of all kinds, and -their animals were infinite. Forbye their horses and asses, they had -dogs and fowls, and many tamed birds which travelled in their company. -One sight I yet remember as most curious. A great long man, who rode on -a little donkey, had throughout the march kept an ugly raven before him, -which he treated with much kindness; and on dismounting lifted off with -assiduous care. And yet the bird had no beauty or accomplishment to -merit his good-will. It is a trait of these strange people that they -must ever have something on which to expend their affection; and while -the women have their children, the men have their pets. The most grim -and quarrelsome tinker will tend some beast or bird and share with it -his last meal. - -When the camp was made, the fire lit, and the evening meal prepared, the -men got out their violins and bagpipes, and set themselves to enliven -the night with music. There in the clear space in front of the fire -they danced to the tunes with great glee and skill. I sat beside the -captain and watched the picture, and in very truth it was a pleasing -one. The men, as I have said, were for the most part lithe and tall, -and they danced with grace. The gipsy women, after the age of twenty, -grow too harsh-featured for beauty, and too manly in stature for -elegance. But before that age they are uniformly pretty. The free, -open-air life and the healthy fare make them strong in body and -extraordinarily graceful in movement. Their well-formed features, their -keen, laughing black eyes, their rich complexions, and, above all, their -masses of coal-black hair become them choicely well. So there in the -ruddy firelight they danced to the quavering music, and peace for once -in a while lay among them. - -Meanwhile I sat apart with William Baillie, and talked of many things. -He filled for me a pipe of tobacco, and I essayed a practice which I had -often heard of before but never made trial of. I found it very -soothing, and we sat there in the bield of the tent and discoursed of -our several wanderings. I heard from him wild tales of doings in the -hills from the Pentlands to the Cumberland fells, for his habits took -him far and wide in the country. He told all with the greatest -indifference, affecting the air of an ancient Stoic, to whom all things, -good and evil alike, were the same. Every now and then he would break -in with a piece of moralising, which he delivered with complete gravity, -but which seemed to me matter for laughter, coming, as it did, after -some racy narrative of how he vanquished Moss Marshall at the shieling -of Kippertree, or cheated the ale-wife at Newbigging out of her score. - -On the morrow all went off to the fair save myself, and I was left with -the children and the dogs. The captain had judged it better that I -should stay, since there would be folk there from around Barns and -Dawyck, who might penetrate my disguise and spread the tidings. -Besides, I knew naught of the tinker trade, and should have been sorely -out of place. So I stayed at home and pondered over many things, -notably my present predicament. I thought of all my old hopes and -plans--to be a scholar and a gentleman of spirit, to look well to my -lands and have a great name in the countryside, to study and make books, -maybe even to engage in Parliament and State business. And what did I -now? Travelling in disguise among tinkers, a branded man, with my love -and my lands in danger, nay all but lost. It was this accursed thought -that made the bitterest part of my wanderings. - -I was in such a mood when a servant came from a farmhouse near to get -one of the gipsies to come and mend the kitchen pot. As I was the only -one left, there was nothing for it but to go. The adventure cheered me, -for its whimsicality made me laugh, and laughter is the best antidote to -despair. But I fared very badly, for, when I tried my 'prentice hand at -the pot, I was so manifestly incapable that the good-wife drove me from -the place, calling me an idle sorner, and a lazy vagabond, and many -other well-deserved names. I returned to the camp with my ears still -ringing from her cuff, but in a more wholesome temper of mind. - -The greater part of the others returned at the darkening, most with -well-filled pockets, though I fear it was not all come by honestly; and -a special feast was prepared. That gipsy meal was of the strangest yet -most excellent quality. There was a savoury soup made of all kinds of -stewed game and poultry, and after that the flesh of pigs and game -roasted and broiled. There was no seasoning to the food save a kind of -very bitter vinegar; for these people care little for salt or any -condiment. Moreover, they had the strange practice of grating some hard -substance into their wine, which gave it a flavour as if it had been -burned in the mulling. - -The meal was over and I was thinking of lying down for the night, when -William Baillie came back. I noted that in the firelight his face was -black with anger. I heard him speak to several of his men, and his tone -was the tone of one who was mastering some passion. By and by he came -to where I sat and lay down beside me. - -"Do you wish to pleasure me?" he said, shortly. - -"Why, yes," I answered; "you have saved my life and I would do all in my -power to oblige you, though I fear that just now my power is little." - -"It's a' I want," said he, leaving his more correct speech for the broad -Scots of the countryside. "Listen, and I'll tell ye what happened the -day at the fair. We tinker-folk went aboot our business, daein' ill to -nane, and behavin' like dacent, peaceable, quiet-mainnered men and -women. The place was in a gey steer, for a heap o' Wast-country trash -was there frae the backs o' Straven and Douglasdale, and since a' the -godly and reputable folk thereaways hae ta'en to the hills, nane but the -rabble are left. So as we were gaun on canny, and sellin' our bits o' -things and daein' our bits o' jobs, the drucken folk were dancin' and -cairryin' on at the ither end. By and by doun the Fair come a drucken -gairdener, one John Cree. I ken him weel, a fosy, black-hertit scoondrel -as ever I saw. My wife, whom ye know, for it was her that lookit after -ye when ye were sick, was standin' at the side when the man sees her. -He comes up to her wi' his leerin', blackgairdly face, and misca's her -for a tinkler and a' that was bad, as if the warst in our tribe wasna -better than him. - -"Mary, she stands back, and bids him get out or she wad learn him -mainners. - -"But he wadna take a tellin'. 'Oh, ho, my bawbee joe,' says he, 'ye're -braw and high the day. Whae are you to despise an honest man? A wheen -tinkler doxies!' And he took up a stane and struck her on the face. - -"At this a' our folk were for pittin' an end to him there and then. But -I keepit them back and bade them let the drucken ful be. Syne he gaed -awa', but the folk o' the Fair took him up, and we've got nocht but -ill-words and ill-tongue a' day. But, by God! they'll pay for it the -morn." And the captain looked long and fiercely into the embers. - -"I hae a plan," said he, after a little, "and, Master Burnet, I want ye -to help me. The folk of the fair are just a wheen scum and riddlings. -There are three o' us here, proper men, you and myself and my son -Matthew. If ye will agree to it we three will mount horse the morn and -clear oot that fair, and frichten the folk o' Biggar for the next -twalmonth." - -"What would you do?" said I. - -"I hae three suits," he said, "o' guid crimson cloth, which I got frae -my grandfather and have never worn. I have three braw horses, which cam -oot o' England three year syne. If the three o' us mount and ride -through the fair there will be sic a scattering as was never heard tell -o' afore i' the auld toun. And, by God, if that gairdener-body doesna -gang wud wi' fricht, my name's no William Baillie." - -Now, I do not know what madness prompted me to join in this freak. For -certain it was a most unbecoming thing for a man of birth to be perched -on horseback in the company of two reckless tinkers to break the king's -peace and terrify His Majesty's lieges of Biggar. But a dare-devil -spirit--the recoil from the morning's despondency--now held me. -Besides, the romance of the thing took me captive; it was as well that a -man should play all the parts he could in the world; and to my foolish -mind it seemed a fine thing that one who was a man of birth and learning -should not scruple to cast in his lot with the rough gipsies. - -So I agreed readily enough, and soon after went to sleep with weariness, -and knew nothing till the stormy dawn woke the camp. - -Then the three of us dressed in the crimson suits, and monstrously fine -we looked. The day was dull, cloudy, and with a threat of snow; and the -massing of clouds which we had marked on the day before was now a -thousandfold greater. We trotted out over the green borders of the bog -to the town, where the riot and hilarity were audible. The sight of the -three to any chance spectator must have been fearsome beyond the common. -William Baillie, not to speak of his great height and strange dress, had -long black hair which hung far below his shoulders, and his scarlet hat -and plume made him look like the devil in person. Matthew, his son, was -something smaller, but broad and sinewy, and he sat his horse with an -admirable grace. As for myself, my face was tanned with sun and air and -the gipsy dye, my hair hung loosely on my shoulders in the fashion I -have always worn it, and I could sit a horse with the best of them. - -When we came near the head of the street we halted and consulted. The -captain bade us obey him in all and follow wherever he went, and above -all let no word come from our mouth. Then we turned up our sleeves -above the elbows, drew our swords and rode into the town. - -At the first sight of the three strange men who rode abreast a great cry -of amazement arose, and the miscellaneous rabble was hushed. Then, in a -voice of thunder, the captain cried out that they had despised the -gipsies the day before, and that now was the time of revenge. Suiting -the action to the word he held his naked sword before him, and we -followed at a canter. - -I have never seen so complete a rout in my life. Stalls, booths, tables -were overturned, and the crowd flew wildly in all directions. The -others of the tribe, who had come to see the show, looked on from the -back, and to the terrified people seemed like fresh assailants. I have -never heard such a hubbub as rose from the fleeing men and screaming -women. Farmers, country-folk, plowmen mingled with fat burgesses and the -craftsmen of the town in one wild rush for safety. And yet we touched -no one, but kept on our way to the foot of the street, with our drawn -swords held stark upright in our hands. Then we turned and came back; -and lo! the great fair was empty, and wild, fearful faces looked at us -from window and lane. - -Then, on our second ride, appeared at the church gate the minister of -the parish, a valiant man, who bade us halt. - -"Stop," saul he, "you men of blood, and cease from disturbing the town, -or I will have you all clapt in the stocks for a week." - -Then the captain spoke up and told him of the wrong and insult of the -day before. - -At this the worthy man looked grave. "Go back to your place," he said, -"and it shall be seen to. I am wae that the folk of this town, who have -the benefit of my ministrations, set no better example to puir heathen -Egyptians. But give up the quarrel at my bidding. 'Vengeance is mine, -and I will repay,' saith the Lord." - -"But haply, sir," said I, "as Augustine saith, we may be the Lord's -executors." And with this we turned and rode off, leaving the man -staring in open-mouthed wonder. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - OF THE FIGHT IN THE MOSS OF BIGGAR - - -When we came to the camping-place it was almost deserted. The people -had all gone to the fair, and nothing was to be seen save the baggage -and the children. The morning had grown wilder and a thin snow was -falling, the earnest of a storm. The mist was drawing closer and -creeping over the boglands. I minded an old saying of Tam Todd's, -"Rouk's snaw's wraith," and I looked for a wild storm with gladness, for -it would keep the dragoon gentry at home and prohibit their ill-doing. - -But just in front at the border of the fog and at the extremity of the -dry land, the captain saw something which made him draw up his horse -sharply and stare. Then he turned to Matthew, and I saw that his face -was flushed. "Ride a' your pith, man," he said, "ride like the wind to -the toun, and bid our folk hurry back. Nae words and be off." And the -obedient son galloped away to do his bidding. - -He gripped me by the arm and pulled me to the side. "Ye've guid een," -he said. "D'ye see that ower by the laigh trees?" I looked and looked -again and saw nothing. - -"Maybe no," he said, "ye haena gipsy een; but in half an' oor we'll a' -ken what it means. It's the Ruthvens wi' the Yerl o' Hell. I ken by -their red-stripit breeks and their lang scythe-sticks. Ye maun ken that -for lang we've had a bluid-feud wi' that clan, for the Baillies are aye -gentrice and hae nae trokins wi' sic blaggard tinklers. We've focht -them yince and twice and aye gotten the better, and noo I hear that -little Will Ruthven, that's him that they ca' the Yerl o' Hell for his -deevilry, has sworn to fecht us till there's no a Baillie left to keep -up the name. And noo they've come. 'Faith there'll be guid bluid spilt -afore thae wratches learn their lesson." - -The news struck me with vast astonishment and a little dismay. I had -often longed to see a battle and now I was to be gratified. But what a -battle! A fight between two bloodthirsty gipsy clans, both as wild as -peat-reek, and armed with no more becoming weapons than bludgeons, -cutlasses, and scythe-blades. More, the event would place me in a hard -position. I could not fight. It would be too absurd for words that I -should be mixed up in their mellays. But the man at my side expected me -to aid him. I owed my life to him, and with these folk gratitude is -reckoned one of the first of the virtues. To refuse William Baillie my -help would be to offer him the deepest unkindness. Yet I dismissed the -thought at once as preposterous. I could no more join the fight than I -could engage in a pothouse or stable brawl. There was nothing for it -but to keep back and watch the thing as a silent spectator. - -In a little I began to see the band. It would number, as I guessed, -some hundred and ten, with women and children. The captain, as he -looked, grew fierce with excitement. His dark eyes blazed, and his brow -and cheeks were crimson. Ever and anon he looked anxiously in the -direction of the town, waiting for the help which was to come. As the -foe came nearer he began to point me out the leaders. "There's Muckle -Will," he cried, "him wi' the lang bare shanks, like the trams o' a -cairt. He's the strongest and langest man frae the Forth to Berwick. -My God, but it'll be a braw fellow that can stand afore him. And -there's Kennedy himsel', that sonsy licht-coloured man. They say he's -the best wi' the sma'-sword in a' Nithsdale, but 'faith, he's me to -reckon wi' the day. And there's that bluidy deil, Jean Ruthven, whae -wad fecht ony man in braid Scotland for a pund o' 'oo'. She's as guid -as a man, and they say has been the death o' mair folk than the Yerl -himsel'. But here come our ain men. Come on, Rob and Wat, and you, -Mathy, gang wide to the right wi' some. It's a great day _this_. Nae -wee cock-fecht, but a muckle lang deidly battle." And the man's face -was filled with fierce joy. - -Meanwhile both the forces had taken up their position opposing one -another, and such a babel of tinkler yells arose that I was deafened. -Each side had their war-cry, and, in addition, the women and children -screamed the most horrible curses and insults against the enemy. Yet -the battle was not arrayed in haphazard fashion, but rather with some -show of military skill. The stronger and bigger men of the clan with -the captain himself were in the middle. On the right and left were -their sons, with a more mixed force, and below all the women were drawn -up like harpies, looking well-nigh as fierce and formidable as the men. - -"You'll come to the front wi' me, Maister Burnet," said the captain. -"Ye're a guid man o' your hands and we'll need a' we can get i' the -middle." - -"No," said I, "I cannot." - -"Why?" he asked, looking at me darkly. - -"Tut, this is mere foolery. You would not have me meddling in such a -fray?" - -"You think we're no worthy for you to fecht wi'," he said, quietly, "we, -that are as guid as the best gentlemen i' the land, and have saved your -life for ye, Master John Burnet. Weel, let it be. I didna think ye wad -hae dune it." Then the tinker blood came out. "Maybe you're feared," -said he, with an ugly smile. - -I turned away and made no answer; indeed, I could trust myself to make -none. I was bitterly angry and unhappy. All my misfortunes had drawn -to a point in that moment. I had lost everything. A fatal mischance -seemed to pursue me. Now I had mortally offended the man who had saved -my life, and my outlook was drear enough. - -I had been looking the other way for a second, and when I turned again -the fray had begun. The Earl, with a cutlass, had engaged the captain, -and the wings, if one may call them by so fine a word, had met and -mingled in confusion. But still it was not a general mellay, but rather -a duel between the two principal combatants. The little man with the -short sword showed wondrous agility, and leaped and twisted like a -tumbler at a fair. As for the Baillie, he had naught to do but keep him -at a distance, for he was both better armed and better skilled. As he -fought he let his eye wander to the others and directed them with his -voice. "Come up, Mathy lad," he would cry. "Stand weel into them, and -dinna fear the lasses." Then as he saw one of his own side creeping -behind the Earl to strike a back blow, he roared with anger and bade him -keep off. "Let the man be," he cried. "Is't no eneuch to hae to fecht -wi' blaggards that ye maun be blaggards yoursel'?" - -But in a little the crowd closed round them and they had less room for -play. Then began a grim and deadly fight. The townspeople, at the word -of the tinkers fighting, had left the fair and come out in a crowd to -witness it. It was a sight such as scarce a man may see twice in his -lifetime. The mist rolled low and thick, and in the dim light the wild, -dark faces and whirling weapons seemed almost monstrous. Now that the -death had begun there was little shouting; nothing was heard save the -rattle of the cutlasses, and a sort of sighing as blows were given and -received. The bolder of the women and boys had taken their place, and -at the back the little children and young girls looked on with the -strangest composure. I grew wild with excitement, and could scarce keep -from yelling my encouragements or my warnings; but these had no thought -of uttering a word. Had there been a cloud of smoke or smell of powder -it would have seemed decent, but this quietness and clearness jarred on -me terribly. Moreover, the weapons they fought with were rude, but -powerful to inflict deep wounds, being all clubs and short swords and -scythe-blades fixed on poles. Soon I saw ghastly cuts on the faces of -the foremost and blood-splashes on brow and cheek. Had there been -horses it would not have seemed so cruel, for there would have been the -rush and trample, the hot excitement of the charge and the recoil. But -in the quiet, fierce conflict on foot there seemed nothing but murder -and horror. - -At first the battle was fought in a little space, and both sides stood -compact. But soon it widened, and the wings straggled out almost to the -edge of the bog-water. The timid onlookers fled as from the plague, and -I, in my station in the back, was in doubts whether I should bide still -or no. But in front of me were the girls and children, and I thought if -I could do naught else I might bide still and see to them. For the -horns of the Ruthven's company (which was far the larger) threatened to -enclose the Baillies, and cut off their retreat. Meantime the mist had -come down still closer and had given that decent covering which one -desires in a bloody fray. I could scarce see the front ranks of our -opponents, and all I could make out of my friends was the captain's -bright sword glinting as he raised it to the cut. - -But that soon happened which I had feared. For the Ruthvens, enclosing -our wings, had all but surrounded us, since the captain had put the -weaker there and left all the more valiant for the centre. Almost before -I knew I saw one and another great gipsy rush around and make towards -the girls who had not joined the battle. In that moment I saw the -bravest actions which it has ever been my lot to see. For these slim, -dark-haired maids drew knives and stood before their assailants, as -stout-hearted as any soldiers of the King's guard. The children raised -a great cry and huddled close to one another. One evil-looking fellow -flung a knife and pierced a girl's arm.... It was too much for me. All -my good resolutions went to the wind, and I forgot my pride in my anger. -With a choking cry I drew my sword and rushed for him. - -After that I know not well what happened. I was borne back by numbers, -then I forced my way forward, then back I fell again. At first I fought -calmly, and more from a perverted feeling of duty than any lust of -battle. But soon a tinker knife scratched my cheek, and a tinker -bludgeon rattled sorely against my head. Then I grew very hot and -angry. I saw all around me a crowd of fierce faces and gleaming knives, -and I remember naught save that I hurled myself onward, sword in hand, -hewing and slashing like a devil incarnate. I had never drawn blade in -overmastering passion before, and could scarce have thought myself -capable of such madness as then possessed me. The wild moss-trooping -blood, which I had heired from generations of robber lords, stood me in -good stead. A reckless joy of fight took me. I must have seemed more -frantic than the gipsies themselves. - -At last, I know not how, I found my way to the very front rank. I had -been down often, and blood was flowing freely from little flesh wounds, -but as yet I was unscathed. There I saw William Baillie laying about -him manfully, though sore wounded in the shoulder. When he saw me he -gave me a cry of welcome. "Come on," he cried, "I kenned ye wad think -better o't. We've muckle need o' a guid man the noo." And he spoke -truth, for anything more fierce and awesome than the enemy I have never -seen. The Earl of Hell was mangled almost to death, especially in the -legs and thighs. The flesh was clean cut from the bone of one of his -legs, and hung down over the ankles, till a man grew sick at the sight. -But he was whole compared with his daughter, Jean Ruthven, who was the -chief's wife. Above and below her bare breasts she was cut to the bone, -and so deep were the gashes that the movement of her lungs, as she -breathed, showed between the ribs. The look of the thing made me ill -with horror. I felt giddy, and almost swooned; and yet, though white as -death, she fought as undauntedly as ever. I shunned the sight, and -strove to engage her husband alone, the great fair-haired man, who, with -no weapon but a broken cutlass, had cleared all around him. I thrust at -him once and again and could get no nearer for the swing of his mighty -arms. Then the press behind, caused I suppose by the Ruthvens at the -back, drove me forward, and there was nothing for it but to grapple with -him. Our weapons were forced from our hands in the throng, and, with -desperate energy, we clutched one another. I leaped and gripped him by -the neck, and the next instant we were both down, and a great, -suffocating wave of men pressed over us. I felt my breath stop, and yet -I kept my grip and drew him closer. All was blackness around, and even -as I clutched I felt a sharp thrill of agony through my frame, which -seemed to tear the life from my heart, and I was lost to all. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - SMITWOOD - - -That I am alive to this day and fit to write this tale, I owe to William -Baillie. He saw me fall and the press close over me, and, though hard -beset himself, he made one effort for my salvation. "Mathy," he cried, -"and Tam and Andra, look after your man and get him up," and then once -more he was at death-grips. They obeyed his bidding as well as they -might, and made a little ring in the centre around me, defending me with -their weapons. Then they entwined us and lifted me, senseless as I was, -to the light and air. As for Kennedy, he was heavy and florid, and his -life had gone from him at the first overthrow. - -I do not know well how I was got from the fray. I think I would have -been killed, had not the Ruthvens, whose best men were wounded, given -way a little after. Their trick of surrounding the enemy, by spreading -wide their wings, was not wise and met with sorry success. For it left -their middle so weak, that when Kennedy and the valiant Earl had been -mastered, there remained no resistance. So when my friends made haste -to push with me to the back they found their path none so hard. And -after all that there was nothing but confusion and rout, the one side -fleeing with their wounded, the other making no effort to pursue, but -remaining to rest and heal their hurts. - -As I have said, I was unconscious for some time, and when I revived I -was given a sleeping draught of the gipsies' own making. It put me into -a profound slumber, so that I slept for the rest of the day and night -and well on to the next morning. When I awoke I was in a rough cart -drawn by two little horses, in the centre of the troop who were hurrying -westward. I felt my body with care and found that I was whole and well. -A noise still hummed in my head and my eyes were not very clear, as -indeed was natural after the fray of the day before. But I had no sore -hurt, only little flesh scratches, which twinged at the time, but would -soon be healed. - -But if this was my case it was not that of the rest of the band. The -battle had been like all such gipsy fights--very terrible and bloody, -but with no great roll of dead. Indeed, on our side we had not lost a -man, and of the enemy Kennedy alone had died, who, being a big man and a -full-blooded, had been suffocated in his fall by the throng above him. -It was just by little that I had escaped the same fate, for we two at -the time had been in death-grips, and had I not been thin and hardy of -frame, I should have perished there and then. But the wounds were so -terrible on both sides that it scarce seemed possible that many could -ever recover. Yet I heard, in after days, that not one died as a result -of that day's encounter. Even the Earl of Hell and his daughter Jean -recovered of their wounds and wandered through the country for many -years. But the sight of the folk around me on the march was very -terrible. One man limped along with a great gash in his thigh in which -I could have placed my open hand. Another had three fingers shorn off, -and carried his maimed and bandaged hand piteously. Still a third lay -in the cart with a breast wound which gaped at every breath, and seemed -certain ere long to bring death. Yet of such strength and hardihood was -this extraordinary people that they made light of such wounds, and swore -they would be healed in three weeks' time. Perhaps this tenacity of -life is due in some part to their excellent doctoring, for it is certain -that these folk have great skill in medicaments, and with -herb-concoctions, and I know not what else, will often perform wondrous -cures. I have my own case as an instance--where first I was restored -from a high fever by their skill, and, second, from a fit of suffocation -far more deadly. - -The storms of the day before had passed and a light frost set in which -made the air clear and sharp and the countryside plain even to the -distances. We were passing under the great mass of Tintock--a high, -hump-backed hill which rises sheer from the level land and stands like a -mighty sentinel o'er the upper Clyde valley. We travelled slow, for the -wounded were not fit to bear much speed, and many of the folk walked to -suffer the horses to be yoked to the carts. After a little I espied the -captain walking at the side, with his shoulder and cheeks bandaged, but -as erect and haughty as ever. Seeing that I was awake, he came over -beside me and asked very kindly after my health. His tenderness toward -me was as great as if I had been his son or nearest blood-kin. When I -told him that I was well and would get down and walk beside him, he said -that that would be a most unbecoming thing and would never do, but that -he would have a horse brought me from the back. So a horse was brought, -an excellent black, with white on its fetlocks, and I mounted; and -despite some little stiffness, found it much to my liking. - -He told of the end of the battle and all the details of its course. He -was in the highest spirits, for though his folk were sore wounded, they -had yet beaten their foes and sent them off in a worse plight than -themselves. Above all he was full of a childish vanity in his own -prowess. "Saw you that muckle bullion, Kennedy, Master Burnet? I gied -him some gey licks, but I never could win near eneuch to him for his -muckle airm. You grippit him weel and he'll no bother us mair. His ain -folk 'll keep quiet eneuch aboot the affair, I'll warrant, so we may -look to hear naething mair aboot it. I'm thinking tae, that the Yerl -'ll no seek to come back my gate again. I tried to mak him fecht like a -gentleman, but faith, he wadna dae't. He just keepit cuttin' at my -shanks till I was fair wild, and telled some o' our ain folk to tak the -legs frae the body wi' a scythe-stick. I haena seen a fecht like it -since that at the Romanno Brig fifteen years syne, atween the Faas and -the Shawes, when they were gaun frae Haddington to Harestane. Our folk -wad hae been in't if they hadna come't up ower late and juist seen the -end o't." - -"And will you have no farther trouble about the matter?" I asked. "If -the justice gets word of it will you not suffer?" - -"Na, na," he said, with conviction, "nae fear. Thae things dinna come to -the lugs o' the law. We didna dae ony hairm except to oorsels, and -there's nane o' us killed save Kennedy whae dee'd a naitural death, so -there can be nae word aboot that. Forbye, how's the law to grip us?" -And he turned on me a face full of roguish mirth which looked oddly -between the bandages. "If they heard we were at Biggar Moss yae day and -cam after us, afore the morn we wad be in the Douglas Muirs or the -Ettrick Hills. We're kittle cattle to fash wi'. We gang slow for -ordinar, but when aucht presses we can flee like a flock o' stirlins." - -"Then where are you going?" I asked. - -"Where, but to Lancrick," he said. "There's a fair comes on there -Monday three days, and the muir is grand beddin'. I didna ask your will -on the maitter, for I kenned a' places the noo were muckle the same to -ye, provided they were safe and no ower far away frae the wast country." - -"That's true enough," I said, thinking sadly of Marjory and my miserable -plight. I had not told Baillie anything of my story, for I did not care -to commit it to such ears. But I was glad that we travelled in this -airt, for I had still in my heart a wild hope that by some fortunate -chance I should be in time to save my love. - -About midday we came to Lanark Moor, where the baggage and shelties, as -well as most of the women and children, were left behind to find an -encampment. As for us, we pushed on to the town to see what was doing -and hear some news of the countryside. I had no fear of detection, for -in my new guise I passed for the veriest gipsy in the land. I was still -clothed in my suit of crimson, but the fight had made it torn in many -places, and all smirched with mire and bog-water. Also, my face was not -only stained with the captain's dye, but the storms and dust of the -encounter had deepened its colour to the likeness of an Ethiop. I had -not a rag left of gentility, save maybe the sword which still swung at -my side. In this fashion I rode by Baillie's elbow in a mood neither -glad nor sad, but sunk in a sort of dogged carelessness. The entrance -to the town was down a steep path from the moor, for the place is built -above the gorge of Clyde, yet something lower than the surrounding -moorlands. Far on all sides I had a view of the wide landscape, from the -rugged high hills of Tweeddale and the upper Clyde to the lowlands in -the west which stretch to Glasgow and the sea. - -But when we came to the town there was a great to-do, men running about -briskly and talking to one another, old women and young gossiping at -house and close doors, and the upper windows filled with heads. There -was a curious, anxious hum throughout the air, as if some great news had -come or was coming ere long. I forgot for a moment my position and -leaned from the saddle to ask the cause of a man who stood talking to a -woman at the causeway side. He looked at me rudely. "What for d'ye -want to ken, ye black-faced tinkler? D'ye think it'll matter muckle to -you what king there is when you're hangit?" But the woman was more -gracious and deigned to give me some sort of answer. "There's word o' -news," she said. "We kenna yet what it is, and some think ae thing and -some anither, but a' are agreed that it'll make a gey stramash i' the -land. A man cam ridin' here an hour syne and has been closeted wi' the -provost ever since. Honest man, his heid 'll be fair turned if there's -onything wrung, for he's better at sellin' tatties than reddin' the -disorders o' the state." And then the man by her side bade her hold her -peace, and I rode on without hearing more. - -By and by we came to the market-place where stands the ancient cross of -Lanerick, whereat all proclamations are made for the Westlands. -Straight down from it one looks on the steep braes of Kirkfieldbank and -the bridge which the Romans built over the river; and even there the -murmur of the great falls in Clyde comes to a man's ear. The place was -thronged with people standing in excited groups, and the expression on -each face was one of expectancy. Folk had come in from the country -round as on some errand of enquiry, and the coats of a few of the -soldiery were to be discerned among the rest. But I had no fear of -them, for they were of the lowlands regiment, and had no knowledge of -me. The sight of us, and of myself in especial, for Baillie had changed -his garb, caused some little stir in the crowd and many inquisitive -looks. - -The captain came up to me. "There's dooms little to be dune here," he -cried; "the place is in sic a fever, I canna think what's gaun to -happen. We may as weel gang back to the muirs and wait till things -quiet doun." - -"I know not either," said I, and yet all the time I knew I was lying, -for I had some faint guess at the approach of great tidings, and my -heart was beating wildly. - -Suddenly the crowd parted at the farther end and a man on a wearied grey -horse rode up toward the cross. He held a bundle of papers in his hand, -and his face was red with hurry and excitement. "News," he cried -hoarsely, "great news, the greatest and the best that the land has heard -for many a day." And as the people surged round in a mighty press he -waved them back and dismounted from his horse. Then slowly and -painfully he ascended the steps of the cross and leaned for a second -against the shaft to regain his breath. Then he stood forward and cried -out in a loud voice that all in the market-place might hear. "I have -ridden post-haste from Edinbro' with the word, for it came only this -morn. James Stewart has fled from the throne, and William of Orange has -landed in the South and is on his way to London. The bloody house has -fallen and the troubling of Israel is at an end." - -At that word there went through the people a sound which I shall never -forget as long as I live--the sigh of gratitude for a great deliverance. -It was like a passing of a wind through a forest, and more terrible to -hear than all the alarums of war. And then there followed a mighty -shout, so loud and long that the roofs trembled, and men tossed bonnets -in air and cried aloud and wept and ran hither and thither like madmen. -At last the black cloud of the persecution had lifted from their land, -and they were free to go and tell their kinsmen in hiding that all -danger was gone for ever. - -As for myself, what shall I say? My first feeling was one of utter joy. -Once more I was free to go whither I liked, and call my lands my own. -Now I could overmaster my cousin and set out to the saving of my lass. -Indeed I, who am a king's man through and through, and who sorrowed in -after days for this very event, am ashamed to say that my only feeling -at the moment was one of irrepressible gladness. No one, who has not -for many months been under the shadow of death, can tell the blessedness -of the release. But even as I joyed, I thought of Marjory, and the -thought recalled me to my duty. - -"Have you a fast horse?" I said to the captain. - -He looked at me in amazement, for the tidings were nothing to him, and -in my face he must have read something of my tale. - -"You mean--" he said. - -"Yes, yes," said I; "it means that I am now safe, and free to save -another. I must be off hot-foot. Will you lend me a horse?" - -"Take mine," said he, "it's at your service, and take my guidwill wi' -ye." And he dismounted and held out his hand. - -I mounted and took his in one parting grip. "God bless you, William -Baillie, for an honest man and a gentleman," and I was off without -another word. - -It must have been a strange thing for the people of Lanark to see me on -that day, as they ran hither and thither to tell the good tidings. For, -in all my savage finery, I dashed up the narrow street, scattering folk -to the right and left like ducks from a pond, and paying no heed to a -hundred angry threats which rang out behind me. In a little I had -gained the moor, and set my face for Douglasdale and my lady. Smitwood -was but ten miles away and the path to it easy. In a short hour I should -be there, and then--ah, then, it could not be otherwise, it must be, -that Marjory should be there to greet me, and be the first to hear my -brave news. - -I passed over the road I had come, and had no time to reflect on the -difference in my condition from two hours agone, when abject and -miserable I had plodded along it. Now all my head was in a whirl, and -my heart in a storm of throbbing. The horse's motion was too slow to -keep pace with my thoughts and my desires; and I found me posting on -ahead of myself, eager to be at my goal. In such wild fashion I rode -over the low haughlands of Clyde, and forded the river at a deep place -where it flowed still and treacherous among reeds, never heeding, but -swimming my horse across, though I had enough to do to land on the other -side. Then on through the benty moorlands of Douglas-side and past the -great wood of the Douglas Castle. My whole nature was centred in one -great desire of meeting, and yet even in my longing I had a deadly -suspicion that all might not be well--that I had come too late. - -Then I saw the trees and the old house of Smitwood lying solemn among -its meadows. I quickened my horse to fresh exertion. Like a whirlwind -he went up the avenue, making the soft turf fly beneath his heels. Then -with a start I drew him up at the door and cried loudly for admittance. - -Master Veitch came out with a startled face and looked upon me with -surprise. - -"Is Marjory within?" I cried, "Marjory! Quick, tell me!" - -"Marjory," he replied, and fell back with a white face. "Do you seek -Marjory? She left here two day's agone to go to you, when you sent for -her. Your servant Nicol went after her." - -"O my God," I cried, "I am too late;" and I leaned against my horse in -despair. - - - - - BOOK IV--THE WESTLANDS - - - - CHAPTER I - - I HEAR NO GOOD IN THE INN AT THE FORDS O' CLYDE - - -For a second I was so filled with despair at Master Veitch's news that -my mind was the veriest blank and I could get no thought save that -bitterest of all--that my lady was gone. But with a great effort I -braced myself to action. - -"And what of my servant Nicol?" I asked, and waited breathlessly for the -answer. - -"Oh, he was away on the hills seeking ye, Master Burnet. When he got no -word Marjory was in sic a terror that nothing would suffice her but that -he maun off to Tweeddale and seek every heather-buss for word of ye. He -hadna been gone twae days when half-a-dozen men, or maybe more, came wi' -horse and a' and a letter frae you yoursel, seekin' the lass. They said -that a' was peaceably settled now, and that you had sent them to fetch -her to meet you at Lanerick. I hadna a thocht but that it was a' richt -and neither had the lass, for she was blithe to gang. Next day, that -was yestreen, here comes your servant Nicol wi' a face as red as a -sodger's coat, and when he finds Marjory gone he sits down wi' his heid -atween his hands and spak never a word to any man. Then aboot the -darkening he gets up and eats a dinner as though he hadna seen meat for -a twal'month. Then off he gangs, and tells na a soul where he was -gaun." The old man had lost all his fine bearing and correct speech, -and stood by the door shivering with age and anxiety. - -A whirlwind of thoughts passed through my mind. Now that the old order -was at end, Gilbert's power had gone with it, and he was likely to find -it go hard with him soon. There was but one refuge for him--in his own -lands in the west, where, in his great house of Eaglesham or his town -dwelling in Glasgow, he might find harborage; for the very fact that -they were in the stronghold of the Whigs made them the more secure. -Thither he must have gone if he had any remnant of wit, and thither he -had taken my lady. And with the thought my whole nature was steeled into -one fierce resolve to follow him and call him to bitter account. My -first fit of rage had left me, and a more deadly feeling had taken its -place. This earth was too narrow a place for my cousin and me to live -in, and somewhere in these Westlands I would meet him and settle -accounts once and for all. It was not anger I felt, I give you my word. -Nay, it was a sense of some impelling fate behind driving me forward to -meet this mm, who had crossed me so often. The torments of baffled love -and frustrated ambition were all sunk in this one irresistible impulse. - -I clambered on my horse once more, and a strange sight I must have -seemed to the gaping servants and their astonished master. - -"I am off on the quest," I cried, "but I will give you one word of news -ere I go. The king has fled the land, and the Dutch William goes to the -throne." And I turned and galloped down the avenue, leaving a throng of -pale faces staring after my horse's tail. - -Once on the road I lashed my animal into a mad gallop. Some devil -seemed to have possessed me. I had oft thought fondly in the past that -my nature was not such as the wild cavaliers whom I had seen, but more -that of the calm and reasonable philosopher. Now I laughed bitterly at -these vain imaginings. For when a man's heart is stirred to its bottom -with love or hatred all surface graces are stripped from it and the old -primeval passions sway him, which swayed his father before him. But -with all my heat I felt a new coolness and self-possession. A desperate -calm held me. In a little all things would be settled, for this was the -final strife, from which one or other of the combatants would never -return. - -The dull November eve came on me ere I reached the Clyde. 'Twas no -vantage to ford the stream, so I rode down the left bank among the damp -haughs and great sedgy pools. In a little I had come to the awful gorge -where the water foams over many linns and the roar of the place is like -the guns of an army. Here I left the stream side and struck into the -country, whence I returned again nearly opposite the town of Lanark, at -the broad, shallow place in the river, which folk call the Fords o' -Clyde. - -Here there is a clachan of houses jumbled together in a crinkle of the -hill, where the way from the Ayrshire moors to the capital comes down to -the bank. Here there was an inn, an indifferent place, but quiet and -little frequented; and since there was little to be got by going further -I resolved to pass the night in the house. So I rode down the uneven -way to where I saw the light brightest, and found the hostel by a -swinging lamp over the door. So giving my horse to a stableman, with -many strict injunctions as to his treatment, I entered the low doorway -and found my way to the inn parlour. - -From the place came a great racket of mirth, and as I opened the door a -glass struck against the top and was shivered to pieces. Inside, around -the long table, sat a round dozen of dragoons making merry after their -boisterous fashion. One would have guessed little indeed from their -faces that their occupation was gone, for they birled at the wine as if -the times were twenty years back and King Charles (whom God rest) just -come anew to his throne. - -I had never seen the soldiers before, but I made a guess that they were -disbanded men of my cousin's company, both from their air of exceeding -braggadocio which clung to all who had any relation to Gilbert Burnet, -and also since there were no soldiers in this special part of the Clyde -dale save his. I was in no temper for such a racket, and had there been -another room in the house I should have sought it; but the inn was small -and little frequented, and the accommodation narrow at the best. -However, I must needs make the most of it, so shutting the door behind I -sought a retired corner seat. I was still worn with my exertions of -yesterday and weary with long riding, so I was blithe to get my limbs at -rest. - -But it was clear that three-fourths of the company were in the last -state of drunkenness, and since men in liquor can never let well alone, -they must needs begin to meddle with me. - -"Gidden," said one, "what kind o' gentleman hae we here? I havena seen -sic a fellow sin' yon steeple-jaick at Brochtoun Fair. D'ye think he -wad be willin' to gie us a bit entertainment?" - -Now you must remember that I still wore my suit of torn and dirty -crimson, and with my stained face and long hair I must have cut a rare -figure. - -But had the thing gone no further than words I should never have stirred -a finger in the matter, for when a man's energies are all bent upon some -great quarrel, he has little stomach for lesser bickerings. But now one -arose in a drunken frolic, staggered over to where I sat, and plucked me -rudely by the arm. "Come ower," he said, "my man, and let'sh see ye -dance the 'Nancy kilt her Coats.' You see here twelve honest sodgers -whae will gie ye a penny a piece for the ploy." - -"Keep your hands off," I said brusquely, "and hold your tongue. 'Twill -be you that will do the dancing soon at the end of a tow on the castle -hill, when King William plays the fiddle. You'll be brisker lads then." - -"What," said he in a second, with drunken gravity. "Do I hear you -shpeak treason against his majesty King James? Dod, I'll learn ye -better." And he tugged at his sword, but being unable in his present -state to draw it with comfort, he struck me a hard thwack over the -shoulder, scabbard and all. - -In a moment I was ablaze with passion. I flung myself on the fellow, -and with one buffet sent him rolling below the table. Then I was -ashamed for myself, for a drunken man is no more fit for an honest blow -than a babe or a woman. - -But there was no time for shame or aught save action. Three men--the -only three who were able to understand the turn of affairs--rose to -their feet in a trice, and with drawn swords came towards me. The others -sat stupidly staring, save two who had fallen asleep and rolled from -their seats. - -I picked up my chair, which was broad and heavy and of excellent stout -oak, and held it before me like a shield. I received the first man's -awkward lunge full on it, and, thrusting it forward, struck him fair -above the elbow, while his blade fell with a clatter on the floor. -Meantime the others were attacking me to the best of their power, and -though they were singly feeble, yet in their very folly they were more -dangerous than a mettlesome opponent, who will keep always in front and -observe well the rules of the game. Indeed, it might have gone hard with -me had not the door been flung violently open and the landlord entered, -wringing his hands and beseeching, and close at his heels another man, -very tall and thin and dark. At the sight of this second my heart gave -a great bound and I cried aloud in delight. For it was my servant -Nicol. - -In less time than it takes to write it we had disarmed the drunken -ruffians and reduced them to order. And, indeed, the task was not a hard -one, for they were a vast deal more eager to sleep than to fight, and -soon sank to their fitting places on the floor. Forbye they may have -had some gleam of sense, and seen how perilous was their conduct in the -present regiment of affairs. Then Nicol, who was an old acquaintance of -the host's, led me to another room in the back of the house, where we -were left in peace; and sitting by the fire told one another some -fragment of our tales. - -And first for his own, for I would speak not a word till he had told me -all there was to tell. He had had much ado to get to Caerdon, for the -hills were thick with the military, and at that wild season of the year -there is little cover. When he found no letter he set off for the -hiding-place above Scrape, where he knew I had been, and found it -deserted. Thence he had shaped his way again to Smitwood with infinite -labour and told Marjory the fruit of his errand. At this her grief had -been so excessive that nothing would content her but that he must be off -again and learn by hook or crook some word of my whereabouts. So began -his wanderings among the hills, often attended with danger and always -with hardship, but no trace of me could he find. At last, somewhere -about the Moffat Water, he had forgathered with a single tinker whom he -had once befriended in the old days when he had yet power to help. From -this man he had learned that the Baillies had with them one whom he did -not know for certain, but shrewdly guessed as the laird of Barns. With -all speed he had set off on this new quest and followed me in my journey -right to the moss of Biggar. Here all signs of the band came to an end, -for most of the folk of the place knew naught of the airt of the gipsy -flight, and such as knew were loth to tell, being little in a mood to -incur the Baillies' wrath. So naught was left for him but to return to -the place whence he had started. Here he was met with the bitter news -that I have already set down. He was thrown into a state of utter -despondency, and sat for long in a fine confusion of mind. Then he fell -to reasoning. There was no place whither Gilbert could take a woman -save his own house of Eaglesham, for Dawyck and Barns were too near the -hills and myself. You must remember that at this time my servant had no -inkling of the momentous event which had set our positions upside down. -Now, if they took her to the west they would do so with all speed; they -had but one day's start; he might yet overtake them, and try if his wits -could find no way out of the difficulty. - -So off he set and came to this inn of the Clyde fords, and then he heard -that on the evening before such a cavalcade had passed as he sought. -But he learned something more the next morn; namely, that my cousin's -power was wholly broken and that now I was freed from all suspicion of -danger. Once more he fell into a confusion, but the one thing clear was -that he must find me at all costs. He had heard of me last at the town -of Biggar not fifteen miles off; when I heard the great news he guessed -that I would ride straight for Smitwood; I would hear the tidings that -the folk there had to tell, and, if he knew aught of me, I would ride -straight, as he had done, on the track of the fugitives. So he turned -back to the inn, and abode there awaiting me, and, lo! at nightfall I -had come. - -Then for long we spoke of my own wanderings, and I told him many tales -of my doings and sufferings up hill and down dale, as did Ulysses to the -Ithacan swineherd. But ere long we fell to discussing that far more -momentous task which lay before us. It behooved us to be up and doing, -for I had a horrid fear at my heart that my cousin might seek to reach -the western seacoast and escape to France or Ireland, and thus sorely -hinder my meeting with my love. I had no fear but that I should -overtake him sooner or later, for fate had driven that lesson deep into -my heart, and to myself I said that it was but a matter of days, or -weeks, or maybe years, but not of failure. I was for posting on even at -that late hour, but Nicol would have none of it. - -"Look at your face i' the gless, sir," said he, "and tell me if ye look -like muckle mair ridin' the day. Ye're fair forwandered wi' weariness -and want o' sleep. And what for wad ye keep thae queer-like claes? -I'll get ye a new suit frae the landlord, decent man, and mak ye mair -presentable for gaun intil the Wast." - -I looked as he bade me in the low mirror, and saw my dark face, and -wind-tossed hair, and my clothes of flaming crimson. Something in the -odd contrast struck my fancy. - -"Nay," I said, grimly, "I will bide as I am. I am going on a grim -errand and I will not lay aside these rags till I have done that which I -went for to do." - -"Weel, weel, please yersel'," said my servant, jauntily, and he turned -away, whistling and smiling to himself. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - AN OLD JOURNEY WITH A NEW ERRAND - - -I slept like a log till the broad daylight on the next morn woke me, and -with all speed I got up and dressed. I found myself much refreshed in -body. My weariness was gone, and the dull languor which had oppressed -me had given place to a singular freshness of spirit. - -When I went below I found my servant ready and waiting, with the horses -saddled and my meal prepared. The soldiers had gone early, paying no -score; for when their liquor had left them they had wakened up to the -solemn conviction that this countryside was not like to be a pleasant -habitation for them for many months to come. So they had gone off to -Heaven knows where, cutting my bridle-rein as a last token of their -affection. - -It was near ten o'clock ere we started, the two of us, on our road to -the West. I had travelled it many times, for it was the way to Glasgow, -and I found myself calling up, whether I would or no, a thousand -half-sad and half-pleasing memories. At this place I had stopped to -water my horse, at this cottage I had halted for an hour, at this hostel -I had lain the night. Had I not looked at my comrade every now and -then, I might have fancied that I was still the schoolboy, with his wide -interest in letters and life, and little knowledge of either, with half -a dozen letters in his pocket, looking forward with fear and hope to -town and college. Heigh-ho! Many things had come and gone since then, -and here was I still the same boy, but ah! how tossed and buffeted and -perplexed. Yet I would not have bartered my present state for those -careless and joyous years, for after all this is a rugged world, with -God knows how many sore straits and devilish temptations, but with so -many fair and valiant rewards, that a man is a coward indeed who would -not battle through the one for the sweet sake of the other. - -As we went Nicol talked of many things with a cheery good humour. His -was an adventure-loving mind, and there were few things which he would -not brave save the routine of settled life. Now, as the November sun -came out, for the morn was frosty and clear, his face shone with the -sharp air and the excitement of the ride, and he entertained me to his -views on the world and the things in it. The ground was hard as steel -underfoot, the horse's hooves crackled through the little ice-coated -pools in the road, and a solitary thrush sang its song from a wayside -wood and seemed like a silver trump calling to action and daring. - -"What think ye o' the hills, Laird?" said my servant. "Ye've been lang -among them, and ye'll ken them noo in anither way than if ye had just -trampit ower them after wild-jucks or ridden through them to Yarrow or -Moffatdale. I've wandered among them since I was a laddie five 'ear -auld, and used to gang oot wi' my faither to the herdin'. And since -then I've traivelled up Tweed and doun Tweed, and a' ower the Clydeside -and the Annanside, no to speak o' furrin pairts, and I can weel say that -I ken naucht sae awfu' and sae kindly, sae couthy and bonny and hamely, -and, at the same time, sae cauld and cruel, as juist thae green hills -and muirs." - -"You speak truly," said I. "I've seen them in all weathers and I know -well what you mean." - -"Ay," he went on, "thae lawlands are very bonny, wi' the laigh meadows, -and bosky trees and waters as still as a mill-pound. And if ye come -doun frae the high bare lands ye think them fair like Heev'n. But I -canna bide lang there. I aye turn fair sick for the smell o' moss and -heather, and the roarin' and routin' o' the burn, and the air sae clear -and snell that it gars your face prick and your legs and airms -strauchten oot, till ye think ye could run frae here to the Heads o' -Ayr." - -"I know all of that," said I, "and more." - -"Ay, there's far mair," said he. "There's the sleepin' at nicht on the -grund wi' naething abune you but the stars, and waukin' i' the mornin' -wi' the birds singin' i' your lug and the wind blawin' cool and free -around you. I ken a' that and I ken the ither, when the mist crowds low -on the tap o' the hills and the rain dreeps and seeps, or when the snaw -comes and drifts sae thick that ye canna stand afore it, and there's -life neither for man nor beast. Yet wi' it a' I like it, and if I micht -choose the place I wad like best to dee in, it would be in the lee side -o' a muckle hill, wi' nae death-bed or sic like havers, but juist to -gang straucht to my Makker frae the yirth I had aye traivelled on. But -wha kens?" and he spurred up his horse. - -"Nicol," said I, after a long silence, "you know the errand we go on. I -have told you it, I think. It is to find my cousin and Mistress Marjory. -If God grant that we do so, then these are my orders. You shall take -the lady home to Tweeddale, to Dawyck, which is her own, and leave me -behind you. I may come back or I may not. If I do, all will be well. -If I do not, you know your duty. You have already fulfilled it for some -little time; if it happens as I say, you shall continue it to death. -The lass will have no other protector than yourself." - -"E'en as ye say," cried he, resuming his hilarity, though whether it was -real or no I cannot tell. "But dinna crack aboot siccan things, Laird, -or ye'll be makkin' our journey nae better than buryin'. It's a -wanchancy thing to speak aboot death. No that a man should be feared at -it, but that he should keep a calm sough till it come. Ye mind the -story o' auld Tam Blacket, the writer at Peebles. Tam was deein', and -as he was a guid auld man the minister, whae was great at death-beds and -consolation, cam to speak to him aboot his latter end. 'Ye're near -death, Tammas,' says he. Up gets auld Tam. 'I'll thank ye no to -mention that subject,' he says, and never a word wad he allow the puir -man to speak." - -So in this way we talked till we came to where the road leaves the Clyde -valley and rises steep to the high land about the town of Hamilton. -Here we alighted for dinner at an inn which bears for its sign the Ship -of War, though what this means in a town many miles from the sea I do -not know. Here we had a most excellent meal, over which we did not -tarry long, for we sought to reach Glasgow ere nightfall, and at that -season of the year the day closes early. - -As we rode down the narrow, crooked street, I had leisure to look about -me. The town was in a ferment, for, as near the field of Bothwell Brig, -where the Whigs had suffered their chiefest slaughter, it had been well -garrisoned with soldiers, and the news of the Prince of Orange's landing -put the place into an uproar. Men with flushed, eager faces hurried past -with wonder writ large on their cheeks; others stood about in knots -talking shrilly; and every now and then a horseman would push his way -through the crowd bearing fresh tidings to the townsfolk or carrying it -thence to the West country. - -Suddenly, in the throng of men, I saw a face which brought me to a -standstill. It was that of a man, dark, sullen, and foreign-looking, -whose former dragoon's dress a countryman's coat poorly concealed. He -was pushing his way eagerly through the crowd, when he looked into the -mid-street and caught my eye. In an instant he had dived into one of -the narrow closes and was lost to sight. - -At the first glance I knew my man for that soldier of Gilbert's, Jan -Hamman, the Hollander, whom already thrice I had met, once in the Alphen -Road, once at the joining of the Cor Water with Tweed, and once at the -caves of the Cor, when so many of His Majesty's servants went to their -account. What he was about in this West country I could not think, for -had he been wise he would have made for the eastern seacoast or at least -not ventured into this stronghold of those he had persecuted. And with -the thought another came. Had not he spoken bitterly of his commander? -was he not the victim of one of my fair cousin's many infamies? had he -not, in my own hearing, sworn vengeance? Gilbert had more foes than one -on his track, for here was this man, darkly malevolent, dogging him in -his flight. The thought flashed upon me that he of all men would know -my cousin's plans and would aid me in my search. I did not for a moment -desire him for an ally in my work; nay, I should first frustrate his -designs, before I settled matters with Gilbert, for it was in the -highest degree unseemly that any such villain should meddle in matters -which belonged solely to our house. Still I should use him for my own -ends, come what might. - -I leaped from my horse, crying on Nicol to take charge of it, and dashed -up the narrow entry. I had just a glimpse of a figure vanishing round -the far corner, and when I had picked my way, stumbling over countless -obstacles, I found at the end an open court, roughly paved with -cobbie-stones, and beyond that a high wall. With all my might I made a -great leap and caught the top, and lo! I looked over into a narrow lane -wherein children were playing. It was clear that my man had gone by -this road, and would now be mixed among the folk in the side street. It -was useless to follow further, so in some chagrin I retraced my steps, -banning Nicol and the Dutchman and my own ill-luck. - -I remounted, making no answer to my servant's sarcastic -condolences--for, of course, he had no knowledge of this fellow's -purport in coming to the Westlands, and could only look on my conduct as -a whimsical freak. As we passed down the street I kept a shrewd lookout -to right and left if haply I might see my man, but no such good luck -visited me. Once out of the town it behooved us to make better speed, -for little of the afternoon remained, and dusk at this time of year fell -sharp and sudden. So with a great jingling and bravado we clattered -through the little hamlets of Blantyre and Cambuslang, and came just at -the darkening to the populous burgh of Rutherglen, which, saving that it -has no college or abbey, is a more bustling and prosperous place than -Glasgow itself. But here we did not stay, being eager to win to our -journey's end; so after a glass of wine at an inn we took the path -through the now dusky meadows by Clyde side, and passing through the -village of Gorbals, which lies on the south bank of the river, we -crossed the great bridge and entered the gates just as they were on the -point of closing. - -During the latter hours of the day I had gone over again in mind all the -details of the doings of past weeks. All seemed now clear, and with -great heartiness I cursed myself for errors, which I could scarce have -refrained from. The steps in Gilbert's plan lay before me one by one. -The letter had given him only the slightest of clues, which he must have -taken weeks to discover. When at last it had been made clear to him, -something else had engaged his mind. He must have had word from private -sources, shut to the country folk, of the way whither events were -trending in the state. His mind was made up; he would make one -desperate bid for success; and thus he shaped his course. He sent men -to Smitwood with the plausible story which I had already heard from my -servant, how all breach was healed between us, and how this was her -escort to take her to me. Then I doubted not he had bidden the men show -her as proof some letter forged in my name on the model of the one I had -lost on Caerdon, and also give her some slight hint of the great change -in the country to convince her that now he could do no ill even had he -desired it, and that I was now on the summit of fortune. The poor lass, -wearied with anxiety and long delay, and with no wise Nicol at hand to -give better counsel, had suffered herself to be persuaded, and left the -house with a glad heart. I pictured her disillusion, her bitter -regrets, her unwilling flight. And then I swore with redoubled -vehemence that it should not be for long. - -We alighted for the night at the house of that Mistress Macmillan, where -I lodged when I first came to college. She welcomed us heartily, and -prepared us a noble supper, for we were hungry as hawks, and I, for one, -tired with many rough adventures. The house stood in the Gallow Gate, -near the salt market and the college gardens; and as I lay down on the -fresh sheets and heard the many noises of the street with the ripple of -the river filling the pauses, I thanked God that at last I had come out -of beggary and outlawry to decent habitation. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - THE HOUSE WITH THE CHIPPED GABLES - - -The next morn the weather had changed. When I looked forth through the -latticed panes to the street, it was a bleak scene that met my -eyes--near a foot of snow, flakes tossing and whirling everywhere, and -the roofs and gables showing leaden dull in the gloom. Had I been in -another frame of mind I should have lost my spirits, for nothing so -disheartened me as heavy, dismal weather. But now I was in such a -temper that I welcomed the outlook; the grey, lifeless street was akin -to my heart, and I went down from my chamber with the iron of resolution -in my soul. - -My first care was to enquire at Mistress Macmillan if she knew aught of -my cousin's doings, for the town-house of the Eaglesham Burnets was not -two streets distant. But she could give me no news, for, said she, -since the old laird died and these troublous times succeeded, it was -little that the young master came near the place. So without any delay -I and my servant went out into the wintry day, and found our way to the -old, dark dwelling in the High Street. - -The house had been built near a hundred years before, in the time of -Ephraim Burnet, my cousin's grandfather. I mind it well to this day, -and oft as I think of the city, that dreary, ancient pile rises to fill -my vision. The three Burnet leaves, the escutcheon of our family, hung -over the doorway. Every window was little and well-barred with iron, -nor was any sign of life to be seen behind the dreary panes. But the -most notable things to the eye were the odd crow-step gables, which, I -know not from what cause, were all chipped and defaced, and had a -strange, pied appearance against the darker roof. It faced the street -and down one side ran a little lane. Behind were many lesser buildings -around the courtyard, and the back opened into a wynd which ran westward -to the city walls. - -I went up the steps and with my sword-hilt thundered on the door. The -blows roused the echoes of the old place. Within I heard the resonance -of corridor and room, all hollow and empty. Below me was the snowy -street, with now and then a single passer, and I felt an eerie awe of -this strange house, as of one who should seek to force a vault of the -dead. - -Again I knocked, and this time it brought me an answer. I heard -feet--slow, shuffling feet, coming from some room, and ascending the -staircase to the hall. The place was so void that the slightest sound -rang loud and clear, and I could mark the progress of the steps from -their beginning. Somewhere they came to a halt, as if the person were -considering whether or not to come to the door, but by and by they -advanced, and with vast creaking a key was fitted into the lock and the -great oak door was opened a little. - -It was a little old woman who stood in the opening, with a face seamed -and wrinkled, and not a tooth in her head. She wore a mutch, which gave -her a most witch-like appearance, and her narrow, grey eyes, as they -fastened on me and sought out my errand, did not reassure me. - -"What d'ye want here the day, sir?" she said in a high, squeaking voice. -"It's cauld, cauld weather, and my banes are auld and I canna stand here -bidin' your pleesur." - -"Is your master within?" I said, shortly. "Take me to him, for I have -business with him." - -"Maister, quotha!" she screamed. "Wha d'ye speak o', young sir? If -it's the auld laird ye mean, he's lang syne wi' his Makker, and the -young yin has no been here thae fower years. He was a tenty bit lad, -was Maister Gilbert, but he gaed aff to the wars i' the abroad and ne'er -thinks o' returnin'. Wae's me for the puir, hapless cheil." And she -crooned on to herself in the garrulity of old age. - -"Tell me the truth," said I, "and have done with your lies. It is well -known that your master came here in the last two days with two men and a -lady, and abode here for the night. Tell me instantly if he is still -here or whither has he gone." - -She looked at me with a twinkle of shrewdness and then shook her head -once more. "Na, na, I'm no leein'. I'm ower neer my accoont wi' the -Lord to burden my soul wi' lees. When you tae are faun i' the hinner -end o' life, ye'll no think it worth your while to mak up leesome -stories. I tell ye the young maister hasna been here for years, though -it's blithe I wad be to see him. If ye winna believe my word, ye can -e'en gang your ways." - -Now I was in something of a quandary. The woman looked to be speaking -the truth, and it was possible that my cousin could have left the city -on one side and pushed straight on to his house of Eaglesham or even to -the remoter western coast. Yet the way was a long one, and I saw not -how he could have refrained from halting at Glasgow in the even. He had -no cause to fear my following him there more than another place. For -that I would come post-haste to the Westlands at the first word he must -have well known, and so he could have no reason in covering his tracks -from me. He was over-well known a figure in his own countryside to make -secrecy possible; his aim must be to outrace me in speed, not to outwit -me with cunning. - -"Let me gang, young sir," the old hag was groaning. "I've the -rheumaticks i' my banes and I'm sair hadden doon wi' the chills, and -I'll get my death if I stand here longer." - -"I will trust you then," said I, "but since I am a kinsman of your -master's and have ridden far on a bootless errand, I will even come in -and refresh myself ere I return." - -"Na, na," she said, a new look, one of anxiety and cunning coming into -her face, "ye maun na dae that. It was the last word my maister bade me -ere he gaed awa'. 'Elspeth,' says he, 'see ye let nane intil the hoose -till I come back.'" - -"Tut, tut, I am his own cousin. I will enter if I please," and calling -my servant, I made to force an admittance. - -Then suddenly, ere I knew, the great door was slammed in my face, and I -could hear the sound of a key turning and a bar being dropped. - -Here was a pretty to-do. Without doubt there was that in the house -which the crone desired to keep from my notice. I sprang to the door -and thundered on it like a madman, wrestling with the lock, and calling -for the woman to open it. But all in vain, and after a few seconds' -bootless endeavour, I turned ruefully to my servant. - -"Can aught be done?" I asked. - -"I saw a dyke as we cam here," said Nicol, "and ower the back o't was a -yaird. There was likewise a gate i' the dyke. I'm thinkin' that'll be -the back door o' the hoose. If ye were awfu' determined, Laird, ye -micht win in there." - -I thought for a moment. "You are right," I cried. "I know the place. -But we will first go back and fetch the horses, for it is like there -will be wild work before us ere night." - -But lo and behold! when we went to the inn stable my horse was off. "I -thocht he needit a shoe," said the ostler, "so I just sent him doun to -Jock Walkinshaw's i' the East Port. If ye'll bide a wee, I'll send a -laddie doun to bring him up." - -Five, twenty, sixty minutes and more we waited while that accursed child -brought my horse. Then he came back a little after midday; three shoes -had been needed, he said, and he had rin a' the way, and he wasna to -blame. So I gave him a crown and a sound box on the ears, and then the -two of us set off. - -The place was high and difficult of access, being in a narrow lane where -few passers ever went, and nigh to the city wall. I bade Nicol hold the -horses, and standing on the back of one I could just come to within a -few feet of the top. I did my utmost by springing upward to grasp the -parapet, but all in vain, so in a miserable state of disappointed hopes -I desisted and consulted with my servant. Together we tried the door, -but it was of massive wood, clamped with iron, and triply bolted. There -was nothing for it but to send off to Mistress Macmillan and seek some -contrivance. Had the day not been so wild and the lane so quiet we -could scarce have gone unnoticed. As it was, one man passed, a hawker -in a little cart, seeking a near way, and with little time to stare at -the two solitary horsemen waiting by the wall. - -Nicol went off alone, while I kept guard--an aimless guard--by the gate. -In a little he returned with an old boat-hook, with the cleek at the end -somewhat unusually long. Then he proposed his method. I should stand -on horseback as before, and hang the hook on the flat surface of the -wall. When, by dint of scraping, I had fixed it firmly, I should climb -it hand over hand, as a sailor mounts a rope, and with a few pulls I -might hope to be at the summit. - -I did as he bade, and, with great labour, fixed the hook in the hard -stone. Then I pulled myself up, very slowly and carefully, with the -shaft quivering in my hands. I was just gripping the stone when the -wretched iron slipped and rattled down to the ground, cutting me sharply -in the wrist. Luckily I did not go with it, for in the moment of -falling, I had grasped the top and hung there with aching hands and the -blood from the cut trickling down my arm. Then, with a mighty effort, I -swung myself up and stood safe on the top. - -Below me was a sloping roof of wood which ended in a sheer wall of maybe -twelve feet. Below that in turn was the great yard, flagged with stone, -but now hidden under a cloak of snow. Around it were stables, empty of -horses, windy, cold, and dismal. I cannot tell how the whole place -depressed me. I felt as though I were descending into some pit of the -dead. - -Staunching the blood from my wrist--by good luck my left--as best I -might with my kerchief, I slipped down the white roof and dropped into -the court. It was a wide, empty place, and, in the late afternoon, -looked grey and fearsome. The dead black house behind, with its many -windows all shuttered and lifeless, shadowed the place like a pall. At -my back was the back door of the house, like the other locked and -iron-clamped. I seemed to myself to have done little good by my -escapade in coming thither. - -Wandering aimlessly, I entered the stables, scarce thinking what I was -doing. Something about the place made me stop and look. I rubbed my -eyes and wondered. There, sure enough, were signs of horses having been -recently here. Fresh hay and a few oats were in the mangers, and straw -and dung in the stalls clearly proclaimed that not long agone the place -had been tenanted. - -I rushed out into the yard, and ran hither and thither searching the -ground. There were hoof-marks--fool that I was not to have marked them -before--leading clearly from the stable door to the gate on the High -Street. I rushed to the iron doors and tugged at them. To my amazement -I found that they yielded, and I was staring into the darkening street. - -So the birds had been there and flown in our brief absence. I cursed my -ill-fortune with a bitter heart. - -Suddenly I saw something dark lying amid the snow. I picked it up and -laid it tenderly in my bosom. For it was a little knot of blue velvet -ribbon, such as my lady wore. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - UP HILL AND DOWN DALE - - -I rushed up the street, leaving the gates swinging wide behind me, and -down the lane to where Nicol waited. In brief, panting words I told him -my tale. He heard it without a movement, save to turn his horse's head -up the street. I swung myself into the saddle, and, with no more delay, -we made for our lodgings. - -"There is but one thing that we may do," said I. "The night is an ill -one, but if it is ill for us 'tis ill for them." And at the words I -groaned, for I thought of my poor Marjory in the storm and cold. - -At Mistress Macmillan's I paid the lawing, and having eaten a hearty -meal, we crammed some food into our saddle-bags and bade the hostess -good-bye. Then we turned straight for the west port of the city. - -It was as I had expected. The gates were just at the closing when the -twain of us rode up to them and were suffered to pass. The man looked -curiously at my strange dress, but made no remark, as is the fashion of -these taciturn Westland folk, and together we rode through and into the -bleak night. The snow had ceased to fall early in the day, but now it -came on again in little intermittent driftings, while a keen wind -whistled from the hills of the north. The land was more or less strange -to me, and even my servant, who had a passing acquaintance with many -countrysides, professed himself ignorant. It was the way to the wild -highlands--the county of Campbells and Lennoxes--and far distant from -kindly Christian folk. I could not think why my cousin had chosen this -path, save for the reason of its difficulty and obscurity. I was still -in doubt of his purpose, whether he was bound for his own house of -Eaglesham or for the more distant Clyde coast. He had clearly gone by -this gate from the city, for this much we had learned from the man at -the port. Now, if he sought Eaglesham, he must needs cross the river, -which would give us some time to gain on his track. But if he still -held to the north, then there was naught for it but to follow him -hot-foot and come up with him by God's grace and our horses' speed. - -I have been abroad on many dark nights, but never have I seen one so -black as this. The path to the west ran straight from our feet to the -rugged hills which dip down to the river edge some ten miles off. But of -it we could make nothing, nor was there anything to tell us of its -presence save that our horses stumbled when we strayed from it to the -moory land on either side. All about us were the wilds, for the town of -Glasgow stood on the last bounds of settled country, near to the fierce -mountains and black morasses of the Highlandmen. The wind crooned and -blew in gusts over the white waste, driving little flakes of snow about -us, and cutting us to the bone with its bitter cold. Somewhere in the -unknown distances we heard strange sounds--the awesome rumble of water -or the cry of forlorn birds. All was as bleak as death, and, in the -thick darkness, what might otherwise have seemed simple and homelike, -was filled with vague terrors. I had shaped no path--all that I sought -was to hasten somewhere nearer those we followed, and on this mad quest -we stumbled blindly forward. - -When we had gone some half-dozen miles a light shone out from the -wayside, and we descried a house. It was a little, low dwelling, with -many sheds at the rear; clearly a smithy or a humble farm. My servant -leaped down and knocked. The door was opened, a warm stream of light -lay across the snowy road. I had a glimpse within, and there was a -cheerful kitchen with a fire of logs crackling. A man sat by the -hearth, shaping something or other with a knife, and around him two -children were playing. The woman who came to us was buxom and comely, -one who delighted in her children and her home. The whole place gave me -a sharp feeling of envy and regret. Even these folk, poor peasants, had -the joys of comfort and peace, while I, so long an outlaw and a -wanderer, must still wander hopeless seeking the lost, cumbered about -with a thousand dangers. - -"Did any riders pass by the road to-day?" I asked. - -"Ay, four passed on horses about midday or maybe a wee thing after it, -twae stoot fellows, and a braw-clad gentleman and a bonny young leddy. -They didna stop but gaed by at a great rate." - -"What was the lady like?" I asked, breathlessly. - -"Oh, a bit young thing, snod and genty-like. But I mind she looked gey -dowie and I think she had been greetin'. But wherefore d'ye speir, sir? -And what are ye daein' oot hereaways on siccan a nicht? Ye best come in -and bide till mornin'. We've an orra bed i' the house for the maister, -and plenty o' guid, saft straw i' the barn for the man." - -"Did they go straight on?" I cried, "and whither does this way lead?" - -"They went straight on," said she, "and the road is the road to the toun -o' Dumbarton." And she would have told me more, but with a hasty word -of thanks, I cut her short, and once more we were off into the night. - -From this place our way and the incidents thereof are scarce clear in my -memory. For one thing the many toils of the preceding time began at -last to tell upon me, and I grew sore and wearied. Also a heavy -drowsiness oppressed me, and even in that cold I could have slept on my -horse's back. We were still on the path, and the rhythmical jog of the -motion served to lull me, till, as befell every now and then, there came -a rut or a tussock, and I was brought to my senses with a sharp shock. -Nicol rode silently at my side, a great figure in the gloom, bent low, -as was always his custom, over his horse's neck. In one way the state -was more pleasing than the last, for the turmoil of cares in my heart -was quieted for the moment by the bodily fatigue. I roused myself at -times to think of my purpose and get me energy for my task, but the dull -languor would not be exorcised, and I always fell back again into my -sloth. Nevertheless we kept a fair pace, for we had given the rein to -our animals, and they were fresh and well-fed. - -Suddenly, ere I knew, the way began to change from a level road into a -steep hill-path. Even in the blackness I could see a great hillside -rising steeply to right and to left. I pulled up my horse, for here -there would be need of careful guidance, and was going on as before when -Nicol halted me with his voice. - -"Laird, Laird," he cried, "I dinna ken muckle aboot the Dumbarton road, -but there's yae thing I ken weel and that is that it keeps i' the laigh -land near the waterside a' the way, and doesna straiggle ower -brae-faces." - -This roused me to myself. "Did we pass any cross-road?" I asked, "for -God knows the night is dark enough for any man to wander. Are you sure -of what you say?" - -"As sure as I am that my fingers are cauld and my een fair dazed wi' -sleep," said he. - -"Then there is naught for it but to go back and trust to overtaking the -path. But stay, are these not the hills of Kilpatrick, which stretch -down from the Lennox to the Clyde and front the river at this very -Dumbarton? I have surely heard of such. Our highway must lie to our -left, since we clearly have turned to the right, seeing that if we had -turned to the left we should have reached the water. If then we strike -straight from here along the bottom of this slope, will we not reach the -town? The chances are that we should never find our path, whereas this -way will bring us there without fail, if we can stomach some rough -riding." - -"Weel, sir, I'm wi' ye wherever ye like to gang. And I'll no deny but -that it's the maist reasonable road to tak, if ye're no feared o' -breakin' your craig ower a stane or walkin' intil a peat-bog. But we -maun e'en lippen to Providence and tak our chance like better men." - -So wheeling sharply to our left, we left the path and rode as best we -could along the rough bottom of the hills. It was a tract of rushy -ground where many streams ran. Huge boulders, tumbled down from the -steeps, strewed it like the leaves of a hazel wood in autumn. On one -hand the land lay back to the haughlands and ordered fields, on the -other it sloped steeply to the hills. Stumps of birk-trees and stray -gnarled trunks came at times, but in general the ground was open and not -unsuited for horses in the light of day. Now it was something more than -difficult, for we came perilous near oftentimes to fulfilling my -servant's prophecy. Once, I remember, I floundered fair into a trench -of moss-water with a vile muddy bottom, where I verily believe both -horse and man would have perished, had not Nicol, who saw my misfortune -and leaped his beast across, pulled me fiercely from my saddle to the -bank, and the twain of us together extricated the horse. In this -fashion, floundering and slipping, we must have ridden some half-dozen -miles. All drowsiness had vanished with the rough and ready mode of -travel. Once more the thought of my lady and her plight, of my wrongs -and my misfortunes, tormented me with anxiety and wrath, and stamped yet -more firmly my errand on my soul. - -Now, however, we were suddenly brought to an end in our progress. -Before us lay a little ravine, clogged with snow, in whose bottom a burn -roared. It was a water of little size, and, in summer weather, one might -all but have leaped it. Now the snow had swollen it to the semblance of -a torrent, and it chafed and eddied in the little gorge, a streak of -dark, angry water against the dim white banks. There was nothing for it -but to enter and struggle across, and yet, as I looked at the ugly -swirl, I hesitated. I was nigh numbed with cold, my horse was aching -from its stumbling, there was little foothold on the opposing bank. I -turned to Nicol, who sat with his teeth shaking with the bitter weather. - -"There is naught for it," said I, "but to risk it. There is no use in -following it, for we shall find no better place in a ravine like this." - -Even as I spoke my servant had taken the plunge, and I saw horse and man -slip off the snowy bank into the foam. I followed so closely that I -lost all sight of them. To this day I remember the feelings of the -moment, the choking as an icy wave surged over my mouth, the frantic -pulling at the bridle-rein, the wild plunging of my horse, the roar of -water and the splash of swimming. Then, with a mighty effort, my brave -animal was struggling up the further side, where my servant was already -shaking the water from his clothes. - -This incident, while it put me in better heart, vastly added to my -bodily discomfort. An icy wind shivering through dripping garments may -well chill the blood of the stoutest. And for certain the next part of -the way is burned on my memory with a thousand recollections of utter -weariness and misery. Even my hardy servant could scarce keep from -groaning, and I, who was ever of a tenderer make, could have leaned my -head on my horse's neck and sobbed with pure feebleness. - -The country was now rough with tanglewood, for we were near the last -spur of the hills, ere they break down on the river. Somewhere through -the gloom lights were shining and moving, as I guessed from a ship on -the water. Beyond were still others, few in number, but fixed as if -from dwelling-houses. Here at last, I thought, is the town of Dumbarton -which I am seeking, and fired with the hope we urged on the more our -jaded beasts. - -But lo! when we came to it, 'twas but a wayside inn in a little clachan, -where one solitary lamp swung and cast a bar of light over the snowy -street. I hammered at the door till I brought down the landlord, -shivering in his night-dress. It might be that my cousin had halted -here, so I asked the man if he had any travellers within. - -"Nane, save twae drunk Ayr skippers and a Glesca packman, unless your -honour is comin' to keep them company." - -"Has anyone passed then?" I cried. - -"How could I tell when I've been sleepin' i' my bed thae sax 'oor?" he -coughed, and, seeing we were no sojourners, slammed the door in our -face. - -We were numb and wretched, but there was naught for it but to ride on -further to the town. It could not be far, and there were signs of morn -already in the air. The cold grew more intense and the thick pall of -darkness lifted somewhat toward the east. The blurred woods and clogged -fields at our side gradually came into view, and as, heart-sick and nigh -fordone with want of sleep, we rounded the great barrier ridge of hill, -an array of twinkling lights sprang up in front and told us that we were -not far from our journey's end. Nevertheless, it was still dark when we -rode into a narrow, cobbled street and stopped at the first hostelry. - -Now, both the one and the other were too far gone with weariness to do -more than drop helplessly from the horses and stagger into the inn -parlour. They gave us brandy, and then led us to a sleeping-room, where -we lay down like logs and dropped into a profound slumber. - -When we awoke the morning was well advanced. I was roused by Nicol, who -was ever the more wakeful, and without more delay we went down and -recruited our exhausted strength with a meal. Then I summoned the -landlord, and asked, more from habit than from any clear expectation, -whether any travellers had lodged over night. - -The man answered shortly that there had been a gentleman and a maid, -with two serving-men, who had but lately left. - -In a great haste I seized on my hat and called loudly for the horses. -"Where did they go?" I said; "by what way? Quick, tell me." - -"They took the road doun to the ferry," said he, in great amazement. -"It's no an 'oor since they gaed." - -Thereupon I flung him his lawing, and we rushed from the house. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - EAGLESHAM - - -It was dawning morn, grey and misty, with a thaw setting in on the -surface of the snow. Down the narrow, crooked streets, with a wind -shivering in our teeth, we went at a breakneck gallop. I lashed my -horse for its life, and the poor brute, wearied as it was by the toils -of the night, answered gallantly to my call. Sometimes, in a steep -place, we slipped for yards; often I was within an ace of death; and at -one street-turning with a mighty clatter Nicol came down, though the -next minute he was up again. A few sleepy citizens rubbed their eyes -and stared from their windows, and in the lighted doorway of a tavern, a -sailor looked at us wonderingly. - -In less time than it takes to tell, we were at the water-edge. Here -there is a rough quay, with something of a harbour behind it, where lie -the sugar-boats from the Indies, when the flood-tide is too low to -suffer them to go up stream to the city. Here, also, the ferry four -times daily crosses the river. - -Before us the water lay in leaden gloom, with that strange, dead colour -which comes from the falling of much snow. Heavy waves were beginning -to roll over the jetty, and a mist was drooping lower and ever lower. -Two men stood by an old anchor coiling some rope. We pulled up our -horses and I cried out in impatience where the ferry might be. - -"Gone ten meenutes syne," said one, with no change on his stolid face. -"There she is gin ye hae een i' your heid to see." - -And he pointed out to the waste of waters. I looked and saw a sail -rising and sinking in the trough of the waves. - -"When does she return?" I cried out, with many curses on our laggard -journey. - -"Whiles in an 'oor, whiles in twae. She'll be twae the day ere she's -back, for the ferryman, Jock Gellatly, is a fou' as the Baltic wi' some -drink that a young gentleman gave him." - -So we turned back to the harbour tavern, with all the regrets of -unsuccess. - -The man had said two hours, but it was nearer three, ere that wretched -shell returned, and, when it came, 'twas with a drunken man who could -scarce stagger ashore. I was in no mood for trifling. - -"Here, you drunken swine," I cried, "will you take us across and be -quick about it?" - -"I maun hae anither gless o' Duncan's whusky," said the fellow, with a -leer. - -"By God, and you will not," I cried. "Get aboard and make no more -delay, or, by the Lord, I'll throw you into the stream." - -The man hiccuped and whined. "I canna, I canna, my bonny lad. I had -ower muckle guid yill afore I sterted, and I maun hae some whusky to -keep it doon. I'm an auld man, and the cauld air frae the water is bad -for the inside. Let me be, let me be," and he lay down on the quay with -the utter helplessness of a sot. - -"Here is a devil of a mess," I cried to Nicol. "What is to be done?" - -"I'll hae to tak the boat mysel', Laird," said my servant, quietly. "If -I droon ye, dinna complain." - -Indeed, I was in no mood for complaining at anything which would carry -me further on my quest. With some difficulty we got the horses aboard -and penned them in the stalls. Then Nicol hoisted the sail, and we -shoved off, while I kept those at bay with a boat-hook who sought to -stop us. Once out on the stormy waters I was beset with a thousand -fears. I have ever feared the sea, and now, as we leaped and dived -among the billows, and as the wind scoured us like a threshing floor, -and, above all, as the crazy boat now almost lay sideways on the water, -I felt a dreadful sinking of my courage, and looked for nothing better -than immediate death. It was clear that Nicol, who knew something of -seamanship as he knew of most things, had a hard task to keep us -straight, and by his set face and white lips, I guessed that he, too, -was not without his fears. Nevertheless, the passage was narrow, and in -less time than I had expected, we saw a dim line of sand through the -fog. Running in there, we beached the coble, and brought the horses -splashing to shore. - -The place was dreary and waste, low-lying, with a few huts facing the -river. Beyond the land seemed still flat, though, as far as the mist -suffered me to see, there seemed to be something of a rise to the right. -My feet and hands were numbed with cold, and the wound in my wrist, -which I got in scaling the wall, smarted till it brought the water to my -eyes. I was so stiff I could scarce mount horse, and Nicol was in no -better plight. - -We rode to the nearest cottage and asked whither the folk had gone who -landed with the last ferry. The woman answered gruffly that she had seen -none land, and cared not. At the next house I fared little better; but -at the third I found a young fisher lad, who, for the sake of a silver -piece, told me that they had headed over the moor about three hours ago. - -"And what lies beyond the moor?" I asked. - -"Beyond the muir," said he, "is a muckle hill they ca' Mistilaw, a' -thick wi' bogs, and ayont it there are mair hills and mosses, and syne -if ye ride on ye'll come to Eaglesham, whaur the muirs end and the guid -lands begin. I yince was ower there wi' my faither, aboot a cowt, and a -braw bit place it is, and no like hereaways." - -So Nicol and I, with dogged hearts and numbed bodies, rode into the -black heath where there was no road. The snow had lost all hardness and -was thick and clogging to our horses' feet. We made as good speed as we -could, but that, after all, was little. About midday we had crossed the -first part of our journey and were clambering and slipping over the -shoulder of Mistilaw. This hill is low and trivial contrasted with our -great Tweedside hills, but it well deserves its name, for it is one vast -quagmire, where at all seasons mists and vapours hang. Beyond it, and -all through the afternoon, we struggled among low hills and lochs. We -halted at a solitary shepherd's hut among the wilds, and ate a vile meal -of braxy and oaten-cake. Then again we set forth, and, in the -darkening, came to the wide moor which is the last guard of the wastes -and borders the pleasant vale of the Cart. - -Now here I fell into a great fit of indecision. It was clear that -Gilbert and Marjory were but a little way off in the House of Eaglesham, -and I had almost reached the end of my travels. But here my plans came -to a sudden end. Was I to ride forward and boldly demand my cousin to -let her go? I knew my cousin's temper; he could make but one reply, and -at last some end would be placed to our feud. But with this came -another thought. Gilbert was not a man of one device but of many. If I -sought to wrest my lady from his hands by force, it was most likely that -he would be the winner. For he was ever ripe for high, bold and -dastardly policies, and at such a time was little likely to be -punctilious. - -So in my extremity I fell to consulting with Nicol, and between us we -devised a plan. I liked it so well that I lost all dismal forebodings -and proceeded to put it in action. Night fell just as we came to the -meadows above the village, and the twinkling lights of the place served -as our guides. There was an inn there which I remembered of old time, -for the innkeeper had come originally from Tweeddale. At first I would -shun the place, but then I remembered that the man was dead these -half-dozen years, and all the place so changed that I was secure from -recognition, even had I not been so disguised and clad. So without any -fear we rode up to the door and sought admittance. - -The place was roomy and wide; a clean-swept floor, with a fire blazing -on the hearth, and a goodly smell of cooked meat everywhere. They -brought us a meal, which we ate like hungry men who had been a long -day's journey in a snow-bound world. Then I lay back and stared at the -firelight, and tried hard to fix my mind on the things which were coming -to pass. I found it hard to determine whether I was asleep or awake, for -the events of the past hours were still mere phantasmagoria in my -memory. Through all the bewildering maze of weariness and despair, and -scrupulosity of motive, there was still that one clear thought branded -on my mind. And now, as I sat there, the thought was alone, without any -clear perspective of the actors or the drama to be played. I scarce -thought of Marjory, and Gilbert was little in my mind, for the long -series of cares which had been mine for so many days had gone far to -blunt my vision, and drive me to look no further than the next moment or -the next hour. I was dull, blank, deadened with this one unalterable -intention firm in my heart, but, God knows! little besides. - -About nine or ten, I know not rightly, my servant roused me and bade me -get ready. He had ordered the landlord to have the horses round to the -door, giving I know not what excuse. I mounted without a thought, save -that the air was raw and ugly. We rode down the silent street out on to -the heath, where the snow was deeper, and our steps all but noiseless. -The night was clear and deadly chill, piercing to the marrow. A low -snow-fog clothed the ground, and not a sound could we hear in that -great, wide world, save our own breathing and our horses' tread. A sort -of awe took me at the silence, and it was with solemn thoughts that I -advanced. - -In a mile we left the heath, and, dipping down into the valley of the -stream, entered a wood of pines. Snow powdered us from the bare boughs, -and a dead branch crackled underfoot. Then all of a sudden, black and -cold and still, from the stream-side meadows and all girt with dark -forest, rose the house. Through the tree trunks it looked ghostly as a -place of the dead. Then I remembered that this was the hill-front, where -no habitable rooms were; so, marvelling no more at the dearth of light, -we turned sharp to the left and came on the side looking to the river. - -Two lights twinkled in the place, one in the basement, and one in the -low, first story. I cast my memory back over old days. One was from -the sitting-parlour where the old Gilbert Burnet had chosen to spend his -days, and the other--ah, I had it, 'twas from the sleeping-room of the -old Mistress Burnet, where she had dragged out her last years and drawn -her last breath. But for these there was no other sign of life in the -house. - -We crossed the snowy slope to the black shadow of the wall, where we -halted and consulted. By this time some life and spirit had come back -to my movements, and I held myself more resolutely. Now I gave my -servant his orders. "If so happen we get Mistress Marjory safe," said -I, "you will ride off with her without delay, down the valley to the -Clyde and then straight towards Tweeddale. You will get fresh horses at -Hamilton, and till then these will serve your purpose. Once in her own -countryside there remains nothing for you save to see that you do her -bidding in everything. If God so will it, I will not be long in -returning to you." - -Then, with no more words, we set our faces to our task. - -The light in the window above us still shone out on the white ground. -Many yards to our left another patch of brightness marked where the -other lamp burned. There was need of caution and stillness, else the -master of the place would hear. I kicked my shoes from my feet, though -it was bitter cold, and set myself to the scaling the wall. The -distance was little, scarce twenty feet, and the masonry was rough-hewn -and full of projecting stones, yet I found the matter as hard as I could -manage. For my hands were numbed with the excessive chill, and the cut -in my wrist still ached like the devil. I was like to swoon twenty -times ere I reached the corner of the window. With a sob of exhaustion -I drew myself up and stared at the curtained window. - -Very gently I tapped on the pane, once, twice, three times. I heard a -quick movement of surprise within, then silence once more, as if the -occupant of the room thought it only the snow drifting. Again I rapped, -this time with a sharp knock, which men use who wait long outside a gate -in a windy night. Now there could be no doubt of the matter. A hand -drew the curtains aside, and a timid little face peered out. Then of a -sudden the whole folds were swept back and my lady stood before me. - -She wore her riding-dress still, but a shawl of some white stuff was -flung around her shoulders. There she stood before my sight, peering -forth into the darkness, with surprise, fright, love, joy chasing one -another across her face, her dear eyes sad and tearful, and her mouth -drawn as with much sorrow, and her light hair tossed loosely over her -shoulders. It was many lone and dismal months since I had seen her, -months filled with terrors and alarums, and heart-sickening despair. -And now, as she was almost within my reach at last after so many days, -my heart gave a great bound, and with one leap the burden of the past -shook itself from my shoulders. - -"Open the window, dear," I cried, and with trembling hands she undid the -fastenings and swung the lattice open. The next moment I had her in my -arms, and felt her heart beating close to mine, and the soft, warm touch -of her neck. "Marjory lass," I cried, "how I have missed you, dear! -But now I have you and shall never leave you more." And I drew her -closer to me, while she could only sob the more. - -Then, with a mighty effort, I recalled myself to the immediate -enterprise. The sound of the horses shuffling the snow without forced -on me the need of action. - -"My servant is without with horses," I said. "You must go with him, -dear. It is our only safety. By to-morrow you will be in Tweeddale, and -in a very little while I will come to you." - -"But do you not go just now?" she cried, in anxiety, still clinging to -me. - -"No, Marjory dear," said I, soothing her as best I could, "I cannot come -yet. There are some things which need my special care. If you think -yourself, you will see that." - -"Is it aught to do with Gilbert Burnet? Oh, I dare not leave you with -him. Come with me, John, oh, come. I dare not, I dare not." And the -poor child fell to wringing her hands. - -"Marjory," I said, "if you love me do as I bid you. I will come to no -scaith. I promise you I will be with you at Dawyck ere the week is -out." - -So she put a brave face on the matter, though her lips still quivered. -I went to the window and looked down to where Nicol stood waiting with -the horses. Then I thought of a plan, and, finding none better, I cried -to him to mount to the window-sill, for I knew his prowess as a climber, -and the uncommon toughness of his arm. The horses were too jaded and -spiritless to need any watching. - -I caught up my lady in my arms and stepped out upon the ledge. Then -very carefully and painfully I lowered myself, still clinging to the -sill, till I found a foothold in a projecting stone. Below us were -Nicol's arms and into them I gave my burden. I heard him clambering -down by degrees, and in a very little, for the height was small, he had -reached the ground. Then I followed him, slipping the last few feet, -and burying myself in a bank of snow. - -I had brought a heap of warm furs from the room, and these I flung round -my love's shoulders. My heart ached to think of her, weary from the -day's hard riding, setting forth again into the cold of a November -night. - -"Oh, John," she said, "no sooner met than parted. It is ever our fate." - -"It will be the last time, dear," I said, and I kissed her face in her -hood. - -Then, with many injunctions to my servant, I bade them good-bye, and -watched the figure which I loved best in all the world, disappear into -the darkness. With a sad and yet cheerful heart I turned back and -clambered again into the chamber. - -There were Marjory's things scattered about, as of one who has come from -a long journey. Something on a table caught my eye, and, taking it up, -I saw it was a slip of withered heather. Then I minded how I had given -it her one summer long ago on the Hill of Scrape. - -I kicked off my boots, and in utter weariness of body and mind, I flung -myself on the bed and was soon asleep. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - I MAKE MY PEACE WITH GILBERT BURNET - - -I slept till dawn the dreamless sleep of those who have drowned care in -bodily exertion. It was scarce light when I awoke, and, with the -opening of the eyes, there came with a rush the consciousness of my -errand. I leaped out of bed, and sitting on the edge considered my -further actions. - -First I sought to remove from my person some of the more glaring stains -of travel. There was water in the room, bitter cold and all but frozen, -and with it I laved my face and hands. - -Then I opened the chamber door and stepped out into one of the long -corridors. The house was still, though somewhere in the far distance I -could hear the bustle of servants. I cast my mind back many years, and -strove to remember where was the room where the morning meal was served. -I descended the staircase to the broad, high hall, but still there were -no signs of other occupants. One door I tried, but it was locked; -another, with no better fate, till I began to doubt my judgment. Then I -perceived one standing ajar, and, pushing it wide, I looked in. -Breakfast was laid on the table, and a fire smoked on the hearth. I -entered and closed the door behind me. - -There was a looking-glass at the far end, and, as I entered, I caught a -glimpse of my figure. Grim as was my errand, I could have laughed aloud -at the sight. My hair unkempt, my face tanned to the deepest brown, my -strange scarlet clothes, marred as they were by wind and weather, gave -me a look so truculent and weird that I was half afraid of myself. And -then this humour passed, and all the sufferings of the past, the hate, -the despairing love, the anxious care came back upon me in a flood, and -I felt that such garb was fitting for such a place and such a season. - -I warmed my hands at the blaze and waited. The minutes dragged slowly, -while no sound came save the bickering of the fire and the solemn -ticking of a clock. I had not a shade of fear or perturbation. Never in -all my life had my mind been so wholly at ease. I waited for the coming -of my enemy, as one would wait on a ferry or the opening of a gate, -quiet, calm, and fixed of purpose. - -At last, and it must have been a good hour, I heard steps on the stair. -Clearly my cousin had slept long after his exertions. Nearer they came, -and I heard his voice giving some orders to the servants. Then the door -was opened, and he came in. - -At first sight I scarcely knew him, so changed was he from the time of -our last meeting. He was grown much thinner and gaunter in countenance, -nor was his dress so well-cared for and trim as I remembered him. The -high, masterful look which his face always wore had deepened into -something bitter and savage, as if he had grown half-sick of the world -and cared naught for the things which had aforetime delighted him. His -habit of scorn for all which opposed him, and all which was beneath him, -had grown on him with his years and power, and given him that look as of -one born to command, ay, and of one to whom suffering and pain were less -than nothing. As I looked on him I hated him deeply and fiercely, and -yet I admired him more than I could bear to think, and gloried that he -was of our family. For I have rarely seen a nobler figure of a man. I -am not little, but in his presence I felt dwarfed. Nor was it only in -stature that he had the preeminence, for his step was as light and his -eye as keen as a master of fence. - -He had expected a very different figure to greet him at the other side -of the table. In place of a lissom maid he saw a grim, rough-clad man -waiting on him with death in his eyes. I saw surprise, anger, even a -momentary spasm of fear flit across his face. He looked at me keenly, -then with a great effort he controlled himself, and his sullen face grew -hard as stone. - -"Good morning to you, Master John Burnet," said he. "I am overjoyed to -see you again. I had hoped to have had a meeting with you in the past -months among your own hills of Tweedside, but the chance was denied me. -But better late than never. I bid you welcome." - -I bowed. "I thank you," I said. - -"I have another guest," said he, "whom you know. It is a fortunate -chance that you should both be present. This old house of Eaglesham has -not held so many folk for many a long day. May I ask when you arrived?" -The man spoke all the while with great effort, and his eyes searched my -face as though he would wrest from me my inmost thoughts. - -"An end to this fooling, Gilbert," I said, quietly. "Marjory Veitch is -no more in this house; with the escort of my servant she is on her road -to Tweeddale. By this time she will be more than half-way there." - -He sprang at me like a wild thing, his face suddenly inflaming with -passion. - -"You, you--" he cried, but no words could come. He could only stutter -and gape, with murder staring from his visage. - -As for me the passion in him roused in me a far greater. - -"Yes," I cried, my voice rising so that I scarce knew it for mine. "You -villain, liar, deceiver, murderer, by the living God, the time has now -come for your deserts. You tortured my love and harassed her with -hateful captivity; you slew her brother, your friend, slew him in his -cups like the coward you are; you drove me from my house and lands; you -made me crouch and hide in the hills like a fox, and hunted me with your -hell-hounds; you lied and killed and tortured, but now I am free, and -now you will find that I am your master. I have longed for this day, -oh, for so long, and now you shall not escape me. Gilbert Burnet, this -earth is wide, but it is not wide enough for you and me to live -together. One or other of us shall never go from this place." - -He made no answer but only looked me straight in the face, with a look -from which the rage died by degrees. Then he spoke slowly and -measuredly. "I think you are right, Cousin John," said he, "the world is -too small for both of us. We must come to a settlement." And in his -tone there was a spice of pity and regret. Then I knew that I had lied, -and that this man was stronger than I. - -For a little we stood looking across the table at each other. There was -an extraordinary attraction in the man, and before the power of his keen -eyes I felt my wits trembling. Then, with his hand, he motioned me to -sit down. "The morning air is raw, Cousin John. It will be better to -finish our meal," and he called to his servant to bring in breakfast. - -I have never eaten food in my life under stranger circumstances. Yet I -did not fear aught, but satisfied my hunger with much readiness. As for -him, he toyed and ate little. Once I caught him looking over at me with -a shade of anxiety, of dread in his gaze. No word passed between us, for -both alike felt the time too momentous for any light talk. As the -minutes fled I seemed to discern some change in his manner. His brows -grew heavier and he appeared to brood over the past, while his glance -sought the pictures on the walls, and my face in turn, with something of -fierceness. When all was over he rose and courteously made way for me -to pass, holding the door wide as I went out. Then he led me to a -little room at the other side of the hall, whence a window opened to the -garden. - -"You wish to be satisfied," he said, "and I grant you that the wish is -just. There are some matters 'twixt me and thee that need clearing. -But, first, by your leave, I have something to say. You believe me -guilty of many crimes, and I fling the charge in your teeth. But one -thing I did unwittingly and have often repented of. Michael Veitch fell -by his own folly and by no fault of mine." - -"Let that be," said I; "I have heard another tale." - -"I have said my say; your belief matters naught to me. One thing I ask -you. Where has the girl Marjory gone? If fate decides against you, it -is but right I should have her." - -"Nay," I cried, passionately, "that you never shall. You have caused -her enough grief already. She hates the sight of you even as I, and I -will do nothing to make her fall into your hands." - -"It matters little," he said, with a shrug of his great shoulders. "It -was only a trifling civility which I sought from you. Let us get to -work." - -From a rack he picked a blade, one such as he always used in any serious -affray, single-edged and basket-hiked. Then he signed to me to follow, -and opened the window and stepped out. - -The morning was murky and damp. Fog clothed the trees and fields, and a -smell of rottenness hung in the air. I shivered, for my clothes were -thin and old. - -Gilbert walked quickly, never casting a look behind him. First we -crossed the sodden lawn, and then entered the pine wood, which I had -skirted on the night before. - -In a little we heard the roaring of water and came to the banks of the -stream, which, swollen by the melting snows, was raving wildly between -the barriers of the banks. At the edge was a piece of short turf, some -hundred yards square, and drier than the rest of the ground which we had -traversed. Here Gilbert stopped and bade me get ready. I had little to -do save cast my coat, and stand stripped and shivering, waiting while my -enemy took his ground. - -The next I know is that I was in the thick of a deadly encounter, with -blows rattling on my blade as thick as hail. My cousin's eyes glared -into mine, mad with anger and regret, with all the unrequited love and -aimless scheming of months concentrated in one fiery passion. I put -forth my best skill, but it was all I could do to keep death from me. -As it was I was scratched and grazed in a dozen places, and there was a -great hole in my shirt which the other's blade had ripped. The sweat -began to trickle over my eyes with the exertion, and my sight was half -dazed by the rapid play. - -Now it so happened that I had my back to the stream. This was the cause -of my opponent's sudden violence, for he sought to drive me backwards, -that, when I found myself near the water, I might grow bewildered. But -I had been brought up to this very trick, for in the old days in -Tweeddale, Tam Todd would have taken his stand near the Tweed and -striven to force me back into the great pool. In my present danger -these old memories came back to me in a flood, and in a second I was -calm again. This, after all, was only what I had done a thousand times -for sport. Could I not do it once for grim earnest? - -In a very little I saw that my cousin's policy of putting all his -strength out at the commencement was like to be his ruin. He was not a -man built for long endurance, being too full in blood and heavy of body. -Soon his breath came thick and painfully; he yielded a step, then -another, and still a third; his thrusts lacked force, and his guards -were feeble. He had changed even from that tough antagonist whom I had -aforetime encountered, and who taxed my mettle to the utmost. Had it -not been that my anger still held my heart, and admitted no room for -other thoughts, I would even have felt some compunction in thrusting at -him. But now I had no pity in me. A terrible desire to do to him as he -had done to my friends gripped me like a man's hand. The excitement of -the struggle, and, perhaps, the peril to my own life, roused my dormant -hate into a storm of fury. I know not what I did, but shrieking curses -and anathemas, I slashed blindly before me like a man killing bees. -Before my sword point I saw his face growing greyer and greyer with each -passing minute. He was a brave man, this I have always said for him; and -if any other in a like position, with an enemy at his throat and the -awful cognisance of guilt, still keeps his stand and does not flee, him -also I call brave. - -Suddenly his defence ceased. His arm seemed to numb and his blade was -lowered. I checked my cut, and waited with raised point. An awful -delight was in my heart, which now I hate and shudder to think on. I -waited, torturing him. He tried to speak, but his mouth was parched and -I heard the rattle of his tongue. Still I delayed, for all my heat -seemed turned into deadly malice. - -Then his eyes left my face and looked over my shoulders. I saw a new -shade of terror enter them. I chuckled, for now, thought I, my revenge -has come. Of a sudden he crouched with a quick movement, bringing his -hands to his face. I was in the act of striking, when from behind came -a crack, and something whistled past my ear. Then I saw my cousin fall, -groaning, with a bullet through his neck. - -In a trice my rage was turned from him to the unknown enemy behind. -With that one shot all rancour had gone from my heart. I turned, and -there, running through the trees up the river bank, I saw a man. At the -first look I recognised him, though he was bent well-nigh double, and -the air was thick with fog. It was the fellow Jan Hamman. - -I ran after him at top speed, though he was many yards ahead of me. I -have never felt such lightness in my limbs. I tore through thicket and -bramble, and leaped the brooks as easily as if I were not spent with -fighting and weak from the toils of months. My whole being was -concentrated into one fierce attempt, for a thousand complex passions -were tearing at my heart. This man had dared to come between us; this -man had dared to slay one of my house. No sound escaped my lips, but -silently, swiftly, I sped after the fleeing figure. - -He ran straight up stream, and at every step I gained. Somewhere at the -beginning he dropped his pistol; soon he cast away his cap and cloak; -and when already he heard my hot breathing behind him he cried out in -despair and flung his belt aside. We were climbing a higher ridge -beneath which ran the stream. I was so near that I clutched at him once -and twice, but each time he eluded me. Soon we gained the top, and I -half-stumbled while he gained a yard. Then I gathered myself together -for a great effort. In three paces I was on him, and had him by the -hair; but my clutch was uncertain with my faintness, and, with a wrench, -he was free. Before I knew his purpose he swerved quickly to the side, -and leaped clean over the cliff into the churning torrent below. - -I stood giddy on the edge, looking down. There was nothing but a foam -of yellow and white and brown from bank to bank. No man could live in -such a stream. I turned and hastened back to my cousin. - -I found him lying as I had left him, with his head bent over to the side -and the blood oozing from his neck-wound. When I came near he raised -his eyes and saw me. A gleam of something came into them; it may have -been mere recognition, but I thought it pleasure. - -I kneeled beside him with no feelings other than kindness. The sight of -him lying so helpless and still drove all anger from me. He was my -cousin, one of my own family, and, with it all, a gentleman and a -soldier. - -He spoke very hoarsely and small. - -"I am done for, John. My ill-doing has come back on my own head. That -man----" - -"Yes," I said, for I did not wish to trouble a man so near his end with -idle confessions, "I know, I have heard, but that is all past and done -with." - -"God forgive me," he said, "I did him a wrong, but I have repaid it. -Did you kill him, John?" - -"No," I said; "he leaped from a steep into the stream. He will be no -more heard of." - -"Ah," and his breath came painfully, "it is well. Yet I could have -wished that one of the family had done the work. But it is no time to -think of such things. I am going fast, John." - -Then his speech failed for a little and he lay back with a whitening -face. - -"I have done many ill deeds to you, for which I crave your forgiveness." - -"You have mine with all my heart," I said, hastily. "But there is the -forgiveness of a greater, which we all need alike. You would do well to -seek it." - -He spoke nothing for a little. "I have lived a headstrong, evil life," -said he, "which God forgive. Yet it is not meet to go canting to your -end, when in your health you have crossed His will." - -Once again there was silence for a little space. Then he reached out his -hand for mine. - -"I have been a fool all my days. Let us think no more of the lass, -John. We are men of the same house, who should have lived in -friendship. It was a small thing to come between us." - -A wind had risen and brought with it a small, chill rain. A gust swept -past us and carried my cast-off cloak into the bushes. "Ease my head," -he gasped, and when I hasted to do it, I was even forestalled. For -another at that moment laid His hand on him, and with a little shudder -his spirit passed to the great and only judge of man's heart. - -I walked off for help with all speed, and my thoughts were sober and -melancholy. Shame had taken me for my passion and my hot-fit of -revenge; ay, and pity and kindness for my dead opponent. The old days -when we played together by Tweed, a thousand faint, fragrant memories -came back to me, and in this light the last shades of bitterness -disappeared. Also the great truth came home to me as I went, how little -the happiness of man hangs on gifts and graces, and how there is naught -in the world so great as the plain virtues of honour and heart. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - OF A VOICE IN THE EVENTIDE - - -Of the events of the time following there is little need to give an -exact account. There was some law business to be gone through in -connection with my cousin's death and the disposing of the estate, which -went to an East country laird, a Whig of the Whigs, and one like to make -good and provident use of it. Then, when I would have returned to -Tweeddale, I received a post from my good kinsman, Dr. Gilbert Burnet, -which led me first to Edinburgh and then so far afield as London itself. -For it was necessary, in the great confusion of affairs, that I should -set myself right with the law and gain some reparation for my some-time -forfeited lands. - -So to the great city I went, posting by the main road from Edinburgh, -and seeing a hundred things which were new and entertaining. I abode -there most all the winter, during the months of December, January, -February, and March, for there was much to do and see. My lodging was -in my kinsman's house near the village of Kensington, and there I met a -great concourse of remarkable folk whose names I had heard of and have -heard of since. Notably, there were Master John Dryden, the excellent -poet, my Lord Sandwich, and a very brisk, pleasing gentleman, one Mr. -Pepys, of the Admiralty. I had great opportunity of gratifying my taste -for books and learned society, for my kinsman's library was an excellent -one, and his cellars so good that they attracted all conditions of folk -to his house. Also I had many chances of meeting with gentlemen of like -degree with myself, and many entertaining diversions we had together. -Nor did I neglect those in Tweeddale, for I sent news by near every post -that went to the North. - -But when the spring came, and there was no further need for tarrying in -the South, with a light heart I net off homewards once more. I -journeyed by Peterborough and York in the company of one Sir C. -Cotterell, a gentleman of Northumberland, and abode two days at his -house in the moors, where there was excellent fishing. Then I came -northwards by the great Northumberland road by the towns of Newcastle -and Morpeth, and crossed the Cheviot Hills, which minded me much of my -own glen. At Coldstream I crossed the Tweed, which is there grown a -very broad, noble river, and then rode with all speed over the -Lammermoors to Edinburgh. I stayed there no longer than my duty -demanded; and when all was settled, one bright spring day, just after -midday, set out for Barns. - -The day, I remember, was one of surprising brightness, clear, sunshiny, -and soft as midsummer. There are few ways I know better than that from -the capital to my home--the bare, windy moorlands for one half, and the -green glens and pleasant waters of the other. It was by this road that I -had come to Leith to ship for Holland; by this road that I had ridden on -that wild night ride to Dawyck. Each spot of the wayside was imprinted -on my memory, and now that my wanderings were over, and I was returning -to peace and quiet, all things were invested with a new delight. Yet my -pleasure was not of the brisk, boisterous order, for my many misfortunes -had made me a graver man, and chastened my natural spirits to a mellow -and abiding cheerfulness. - -At Leadburn was the inn where I had first met my servant Nicol, my -trusty comrade through so many varying fates. I drank a glass of wine -at the place for no other cause than a sentimental remembrance. The old -landlord was still there, and the idle ostlers hung around the stable -doors, as when I had passed before. Down in the bog-meadow the -marsh-marigolds were beginning to open, and the lambs from the hillside -bleated about their mothers. The blue, shell-like sky overhead arched -without a cloud to the green, distant hills. - -When I came to the place on the Tweedside road, called the Mount Bog, I -dismounted and lay down on the grass. For there the view opens to the -hills of my own countryside. A great barrier of blue, seamed with -glens, all scarred in spots with rock and shingle, lifting serene brows -from the little ridges to the wide expanse of the heavens. I named them -one by one from east to west--Minchmoor, though it was hidden from -sight, where fled the great Montrose after the fatal rout of -Philiphaugh; the broad foreheads of the Glenrath heights above my own -vale of Manor, Dollar Law, Scrape, the Drummelzier fells, the rugged -Wormel, and, fronting me, the great Caerdon, with snow still lining its -crannies. Beyond, still further and fainter lines of mountain, till -like a great tableland the monstrous mass of the Broad Law barred the -distance. It was all so calm and fragrant, with not a sound on the ear -but the plash of little streams and the boom of nesting snipe. And -above all there was the thought that now all peril had gone, and I was -free to live as I listed and enjoy life as a man is born to do, and -skulk no more at dyke-sides, and be torn no longer by hopeless passion. - -When I rode through the village of Broughton and came to the turn of the -hill at Dreva, the sun was already westering. The goodly valley, all -golden with evening light, lay beneath me. Tweed was one belt of pure -brightness, flashing and shimmering by its silver shores and green, -mossy banks. Every wood waved and sparkled in a fairy glow, and the -hills above caught the radiance on their broad bosoms. I have never -seen such a sight, and for me at that hour it seemed the presage of my -home-coming. I have rarely felt a more serene enjoyment, for it put me -at peace with all the earth, and gilded even the nightmare of the past -with a remembered romance. To crown it there was that melodious concert -of birds, which one may hear only on such a night in this sweet time o' -year. Throstles and linnets and the shriller mountain larks sang in the -setting daylight, till I felt like some prince in an eastern tale who -has found the talisman and opened the portals of the Golden Land. - -Down the long, winding hill-path I rode, watching the shadows flit -before me, and thinking strange thoughts. Fronting me over the broad -belt of woodland, I saw the grey towers of Dawyck, and the green avenues -of grass running straight to the hill. - -By and by the road took me under the trees, among the cool shades and -the smell of pine and budding leaves. There was a great crooning of -wood-doves, and the sighing of the tenderest breezes. Shafts of light -still crept among the trunks, but the soft darkness of spring was almost -at hand. My heart was filled with a great exaltation. The shadow of -the past seemed to slip from me like an old garment. - -Suddenly I stopped, for somewhere I heard a faint melody, the voice of a -girl singing. 'Twas that voice I would know among ten thousand, the -only one in all the world for me. I pulled up my horse and listened as -the notes grew clearer, and this was what she sang: - - "First shall the heavens want starry light, - The seas be robbed of their waves; - The day want sun, the sun want bright, - The night want shade, and dead men graves; - The April, flowers and leaf and tree, - Before I false my faith to thee. - To thee, to thee." - - -There came a pause, and then again, in the fragrant gloaming, the air -went on: - - "First shall the tops of highest hills - By humble plains be overpry'd; - And poets scorn the Muses' quills, - And fish forsake the water-glide; - And Iris lose her coloured weed - Before I fail thee at thy need." - - -I stood in shadow and watched her as she came in sight, sauntering up -the little, green glade, with a basket of spring flowers swinging on her -arm. Her hat of white satin hung loose over her hair, and as she walked -lightly, now in the twilight, now in a sudden shaft of the western sun, -she looked fairer than aught I had ever seen. Once more she sang with -her clear voice: - - "First direful Hate shall turn to Peace, - And Love relent in deep disdain; - And Death his fatal stroke shall cease, - And Envy pity every pain; - And Pleasure mourn, and Sorrow smile, - Before I talk of any guile." - - -But now the darkness had come in good earnest, and I could scarce see -the singer. "First Time shall stay," the voice went on: - - "First Time shall stay his stayless race, - And Winter bless his brows with corn; - And snow bemoisten July's face, - And Winter, Spring and Summer mourn." - - -Here the verse stopped short, for I stepped out and stood before her. - -"Oh, you have come back," she cried. "At last, and I have looked so -long for you." - -"Indeed, dear lass, I have come back, and by God's grace to go no more -away." - -Then leading my horse, I walked by her side down the broad path to the -house. We spoke nothing, our hearts being too busy with the delights of -each other's presence. The crowning stone was added to my palace of -joy, and in that moment it seemed as if earth could contain no more of -happiness, and that all the sorrows of the past were well worth -encountering for the ecstasy of the present. To be once more in my own -land, with my own solemn hills looking down upon me, and that fair river -wandering by wood and heather, and my lady at my side, was not that -sufficient for any man? The purple, airy dark, odorous with spring -scents, clung around us, and in the pauses of silence the place was so -still that our ears heard naught save the drawing of our breath. - -At the lawn of Dawyck I stopped and took her hands in mine. - -"Marjory," I said, "once, many years ago, you sang me a verse and made -me a promise. I cannot tell how bravely you have fulfilled it. You -have endured all my hardships, and borne me company where I bade you, -and now all is done with and we are returned to peace and our own place. -Now it is my turn for troth-plighting, and I give you it with all my -heart. God bless you, my own dear maid." And I repeated softly: - - "First shall the heavens want starry light, - The seas be robbed of their waves; - The day want sun, the sun want bright, - The night want shade, and dead men graves; - The April, flowers and leaf and tree, - Before I false my faith to thee." - - -And I kissed her and bade farewell, with the echo still ringing in my -ears, "to thee, to thee." - -I rode through the great shadows of the wood, scarce needing to pick my -path in a place my horse knew so well, for once again I was on Maisie. -The stillness clung to me like a garment, and out of it, from high up on -the hillside, came a bird's note, clear, tremulous, like a bell. Then -the trees ceased, and I was out on the shorn, green banks, 'neath which -the river gleamed and rustled. Then, all of a sudden, I had rounded the -turn of the hill, and there, before me in the dimness, stood the old -grey tower, which was mine and had been my fathers' since first man -tilled a field in the dale. I crossed the little bridge with a -throbbing heart, and lo! there was the smell of lilac and gean-tree -blossom as of old coming in great gusts from the lawn. Then all was -confusion and much hurrying about and a thousand kindly greetings. But -in especial I remember Tam Todd, the placid, the imperturbable, who -clung to my hand, and sobbed like the veriest child, "Oh, Laird, ye've -been lang o' comin'." - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - HOW NICOL PLENDERLEITH SOUGHT HIS FORTUNE ELSEWHERE - - -Now, at last, I am come to the end of my tale, and have little more to -set down. It was on a very fresh, sweet May morning, that Marjory and I -were married in the old Kirk of Lyne, which stands high on a knoll above -the Lyne Water, with green hills huddled around the door. There was a -great concourse of people, for half the countryside dwelled on our land. -Likewise, when all was done, there was the greatest feast spread in -Barns that living man had ever seen. The common folk dined without on -tables laid on the green, while within the walls the gentry from far and -near drank long life and health to us till sober reason fled hot-foot -and the hilarity grew high. But in a little all was over, the last -guest had clambered heavily on his horse and ridden away, and we were -left alone. - -The evening, I remember, was one riot of golden light and rich shadow. -The sweet-scented air stole into the room with promise of the fragrant -out-of-doors, and together we went out to the lawn and thence down by -the trees to the brink of Tweed, and along by the great pool and the -water-meadows. The glitter of that brave, romantic stream came on my -sight, as a sound of old music comes on the ears, bringing a thousand -half-sad, half-joyful memories. All that life held of fair was in -it--the rattle and clash of arms, the valour of men, the loveliness of -women, the glories of art and song, the wonders of the great mother -earth, and the re-creations of the years. And as we walked together, I -and my dear lady, in that soft twilight in the green world, a peace, a -delight, a settled hope grew upon us, and we went in silence, speaking -no word the one to the other. By and by we passed through the garden -where the early lilies stood in white battalions, and entered the -dining-hall. - -A band of light lay on the east wall where hung the portraits of my -folk. One was a woman, tall and comely, habited in a grey satin gown of -antique fashion. - -"Who was she?" Marjory asked, softly. - -"She was my mother, a Stewart of Traquair, a noble lady and a good. God -rest her soul." - -"And who is he who stands so firmly and keeps hand on sword?" - -"That was my father's brother who stood last at Philiphaugh, when the -Great Marquis was overthrown. And he with the curled moustachios was his -father, my grandfather, of whom you will yet hear in the countryside. -And beyond still is his father, the one with the pale, grave face, and -solemn eyes. He died next his king at the rout of Flodden. God rest -them all; they were honest gentlemen." - -Then there was silence for a space, while the light faded, and the old, -stately dames looked down at us from their frames with an air, as it -seemed to me, all but kindly, as if they laughed to see us playing in -the old comedy which they had played themselves. - -I turned to her, with whom I had borne so many perils. - -"Dear heart," I said, "you are the best and fairest of them all. These -old men and women lived in other times, when life was easy and little -like our perplexed and difficult years. Nevertheless, the virtue of old -times is the same as for us, and if a man take but the world as he find -it, and set himself manfully to it with good heart and brave spirit, he -will find the way grow straight under his feet. Heaven bless you, dear, -for now we are comrades together on the road, to cheer each other when -the feet grow weary." - - -On the morning of the third day from the time I have written of, I was -surprised by seeing my servant, Nicol, coming into my study with a grave -face, as if he had some weighty matter to tell. Since I had come home, -I purposed to keep him always with me, to accompany me in sport and see -to many things on the land, which none could do better than he. Now he -sought an audience with a half-timid, bashful look, and, when I bade him -be seated, he flicked his boots uneasily with his hat and looked -askance. - -"I hae come to bid ye fareweel, sir," at length he said, slowly. - -I sprang up in genuine alarm. - -"What nonsense is this?" I cried. "You know fine, Nicol, that you -cannot leave me. We have been too long together." - -"I maun gang," he repeated, sadly; "I'm loth to dae 't, but there's nae -help for 't." - -"But what?" I cried. "Have I not been a good friend to you, and your -comrade in a thousand perils? Is there anything I can do more for you? -Tell me, and I will do it." - -"Na, na, Maister John, ye've aye been the best o' maisters. I've a' -thing I could wish; dinna think I'm no gratefu'." - -"Then for Heaven's sake tell me the reason, man. I never thought you -would treat me like this, Nicol." - -"Oh, sir, can ye no see?" the honest fellow cried with tears in his -eyes. "Ye've been sae lang wi' me, that I thocht ye kenned my natur'. -Fechtin' and warstlin' and roamin' aboot the warld are the very breath -o' life to me. I see ye here settled sae braw and canty, and the auld -hoose o' Barns lookin' like itsel' again. And I thinks to mysel', -'Nicol Plenderleith, lad, this is no for you. This is no the kind of -life that ye can lead. Ye've nae mair business here than a craw among -throstles.' And the thocht maks me dowie, for I canna get by 't. I -whiles think o' mysel' bidin' quiet here and gettin' aulder and aulder, -till the time passes when I'm still brisk and venturesome, and I'm left -to naething but regrets. I maun be up and awa', Laird, I carena whither. -We a' made different, and I was aye queer and daft and no like ither -folk. Ye winna blame me." - -I tried to dissuade him, but it was to no purpose. He heard me -patiently, but shook his head. I did not tax him with ingratitude, for -I knew how little the charge was founded. For myself I was more sorry -than words, for this man was joined to me by ties of long holding. I -longed to see him beside me at Barns, an unceasing reminder of my stormy -days. I longed to have his sage counsel in a thousand matters, to have -him at my hand when I took gun to the hills or rod to the river. I had -grown to love his wind-beaten face and his shrewd, homely talk, till I -counted them as necessary parts of my life. And now all such hopes were -dashed, and he was seeking to leave me. - -"But where would you go?" I asked. - -"I kenna yet," he said. "But there's aye things for man like me -somewhere on the earth. I'm thinkin' o' gaun back to the abroad, whaur -there's like to be a steer for some time to come. It's the life I want -and no guid-fortine or bad-fortine, so I carena what happens. I trust I -may see ye again, Maister John, afore I dee." - -There was nothing for it but to agree, and agree I did, though with a -heavy heart and many regrets. I gave him a horse to take him to Leith, -and offered him a sum of money. This he would have none of, but took, -instead, a pair of little old pistols which had been my father's. - -I never saw him again, though often I have desired it, but years after I -heard of him, and that in the oddest way. I corresponded to some little -extent with folk in the Low Countries, and in especial with one Master -Ebenezer van Gliecken, a learned man and one of great humour in -converse. It was at the time when there was much fighting between the -French and the Dutch, and one morn I received a letter from this Master -van Gliecken, written from some place whose name I have forgot, a -rascally little Holland town in the south. He wrote of many things--of -some points in Latin scholarship, of the vexatious and most unpolitic -state of affairs in the land, and finally concluded with this which I -transcribe.... "Lastly, my dear Master John, I will tell you a tale -which, as it concerns the glory of your countrymen, you may think worth -hearing. As you know well, this poor town of ours has lately been the -centre of a most bloody strife, for the French forces have assaulted it -on all sides, and though by God's grace they have failed to take it, yet -it has suffered many sore afflictions. In particular there was a fierce -attack made upon the side which fronts the river, both by boat and on -foot. On the last day of the siege, a sally was made from the gate of -the corner tower, which, nevertheless, was unsuccessful, our men being -all but enclosed and some of the enemy succeeding in entering the gate. -One man in particular, a Scot, as I have heard, Nicolo Plenderleet by -name, with two others who were both slain, made his way to the -battlements. The gate was shut, and, to all appearance, his death was -certain. But they knew not the temper of their enemy, for springing on -the summit of the wall, he dared all to attack him. When the defenders -pressed on he laid about him so sturdily that three fell under his -sword. - -"Then when he could no longer make resistance, and bullets were -pattering around him like hail, and his cheek was bleeding with a deep -wound, his spirit seemed to rise the higher. For, shouting out taunts -to his opponents, he broke into a song, keeping time all the while with -the thrusts of his sword. Then bowing gallantly, and saluting with his -blade his ring of foes, he sheathed his weapon, and joining his hands -above his head, dived sheer and straight into the river, and, swimming -easily, reached the French lines. At the sight those of his own side -cheered, and even our men, whom he had so tricked, could scarce keep -from joining. - -"Touching the editions which you desired, I have given orders to the -bookseller on the quay at Rotterdam to send them to you. I shall be -glad, indeed, to give you my poor advice on the difficult matters you -speak of, if you will do me the return favour of reading through my -excursus to Longinus, and giving me your veracious opinion. Of this I -send you a copy. - -"As regards the Scot I have already spoken of, I may mention for your -satisfaction that in person he was tall and thin, with black hair, and -the most bronzed skin I have ever seen on a man...." - -When I read this letter to Marjory, her eyes were filled with tears, and -for myself I would speak to no one on that day. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - THE END OF ALL THINGS - - -I am writing the last words of this tale in my house of Barns after many -years have come and gone since the things I wrote of. I am now no more -young, and my wife is no more a slim maid, but a comely woman. The years -have been years of peace and some measure of prosperity. Here in -Tweeddale life runs easily and calm. Our little country matters are all -the care we know, and from the greater world beyond there comes only -chance rumours of change and vexation. Yet the time has not been idle, -for I have busied myself much with study and the care of the land. Many -have sought to draw me out to politics and statecraft, but I have ever -resisted them, for after all what are these things of such importance -that for them a man should barter his leisure and piece of mind? So I -have even stayed fast in this pleasant dale, and let the bustle and -clamour go on without my aid. - -It is true that more than once I have made journeys even across the -water, and many times to London, on matters of private concern. It was -during one of these visits to Flanders that I first learned the -importance of planting wood on land, and resolved to make trial on my -own estate. Accordingly I set about planting on Barns, and now have -clothed some of the barer spaces of the hills with most flourishing -plantations of young trees, drawn in great part from the woods of -Dawyck. I can never hope to reap the benefit of them myself, but haply -my grandchildren will yet bless me, when they find covert and shade -where before was only a barren hillside. - -Also in Tweed I have made two caulds, both for the sake of the fish and -to draw off streams to water the meadows. In the wide reaches of water -in Stobo Haughs I have cut down much of the encumbering brushwood and -thus laid the places open for fishing with the rod. Also with much -labour I have made some little progress in clearing the channel of the -river in places where it is foully overlaid with green weed. The result, -I am pleased to think, has been good, and the fish thrive and multiply. -At any rate, I can now make baskets that beforetime were counted -impossible. My crowning triumph befell me two years ago in a wet, -boisterous April, when, fishing with a minnow in the pool above Barns, I -landed a trout of full six pound weight. - -The land, which had fallen into neglect in my father's time and my own -youth, I did my utmost to restore, and now I have the delight of seeing -around me many smiling fields and pleasant dwellings. In the house of -Barns itself I have effected many changes, for it had aforetime been -liker a border keep than an orderly dwelling. But now, what with many -works of art and things of interest gathered from my travels abroad, -and, above all, through the dainty fingers of my wife, the place has -grown gay and well-adorned, so that were any of its masters of old time -to revisit it they would scarce know it for theirs. - -But the work which throughout these years has lain most near to my heart -has been the studies which I have already spoken of. The fruit of them, -to be sure, is less than the labour, but still I have not been idle. I -have already in this tale told of my exposition of the philosophy of the -Frenchman Descartes, with my own additions, and my writings on the -philosophy of the Greeks, and especially of the Neo-Platonists--both of -which I trust to give to the world at an early time. As this story of -my life will never be published, it is no breach of modesty here to -counsel all, and especially those of my own family, who may see it, to -give their attention to my philosophical treatises. For though I do not -pretend to have any deep learning or extraordinary subtlety in the -matter, it has yet been my good fate, as I apprehend it, to notice many -things which have escaped the eyes of others. Also I think that my -mind, since it has ever been clear from sedentary humours and the -blunders which come from mere knowledge of books, may have had in many -matters a juster view and a clearer insight. - -Of my own folk I have little to tell. Tam Todd has long since gone the -way of all the earth, and lies in Lyne Kirkyard with a flat stone above -him. New faces are in Barns and Dawyck, and there scarce remains one of -the old serving-men who aided me in my time of misfortune. Also many -things have changed in all the countryside, and they from whom I used to -hear tales as a boy are now no more on the earth. In Peebles there are -many new things, and mosses are drained and moors measured out, till the -whole land wears a trimmer look. But with us all is still the same, for -I have no fancy for change in that which I loved long ago, and would -fain still keep the remembrance. Saving that I have planted the -hillsides, I have let the moors and marshes be, and to-day the wild-duck -and snipe are as thick on my land as of old. - -As for myself, I trust I have outgrown the braggadocio and folly of -youth. God send I may not have also outgrown its cheerfulness and -spirit! For certain I am a graver man and less wont to set my delight -in trifles. Of old I was the slave of little things--weather, scene, -company; but advancing age has brought with it more of sufficiency unto -myself. The ringing of sword and bridle has less charm, since it is the -reward of years that a man gets more to the core of a matter and has -less care for externals. Yet I can still feel the impulses of high -passion, the glory of the chase, the stirring of the heart at a martial -tale. Now, as I write, things are sorely changed in the land. For though -peace hangs over us at home, I fear it is a traitor's peace at the best, -and more horrific than war. Time-servers and greedy sycophants sit in -high places, and it is hard to tell if generous feeling be not ousted by -a foul desire of gain. It is not for me to say. I have no love for -king or parliament, though much for my country. I am no hot-headed -king's man; nay, I never was; but when they who rely upon us are sold -for a price, when oaths are broken and honour driven away, I am -something less of one than before. It may be that the old kings were -better, who ruled with a strong hand, though they oft ruled ill. But, -indeed, I can say little; here in this valley of Tweed a man hears of -such things only as one hears the roar of a stormy sea from a green -inland vale. - -As I write these last words, I am sitting in my old library at Barns, -looking forth of the narrow window over the sea of landscape. The -afternoon is just drawing to evening, the evening of a hot August day, -which is scarce less glorious than noon. From the meadow come the -tinkling of cattle bells and the gentle rise and fall of the stream. -Elsewhere there is no sound, for the summer weather hangs low and heavy -on the land. Just beyond rise the barrier ridges, green and shimmering, -and behind all the sombre outlines of the great hills. Below in the -garden my wife is plucking flowers to deck the table, and playing with -the little maid, who is but three years old to-day. Within the room lie -heavy shadows and the mellow scent of old books and the faint fragrance -of blossoms. - -And as I look forth on this glorious world, I know not whether to be -glad or sad. All the years of my life stretch back till I see as in a -glass the pageant of the past. Faint regrets come to vex me, but they -hardly stay, and, as I look and think, I seem to learn the lesson of the -years, the great precept of time. And deep in all, more clear as the -hours pass and the wrappings fall off, shines forth the golden star of -honour, which, if a man follow, though it be through quagmire and -desert, fierce faces and poignant sorrow, 'twill bring him at length to -a place of peace. - -But these are words of little weight and I am too long about my -business. Behold how great a tale I have written unto you. Take it, -and, according to your pleasure, bless or ban the narrator. Haply it -will help to while away a winter's night, when the doors are barred and -the great logs crackle, and the snow comes over Caerdon. - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHN BURNET OF BARNS *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/40014 - -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. Special rules, set forth in the -General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and -distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works to protect the -Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a -registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, -unless you receive specific permission. 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