CHAPTER XI
THE HEARTS OF WOMEN
Barra and Will Gordon returned together to the lodgings in the streetof Zaandpoort. There was a sinister look of inexpressible triumph onthe dark face of my Lord of Barra. When they reached home Will Gordonthrew himself silently, face downward, on the oak settle; for therearose in his heart the memory of those days, not so long ago, when heand Wat had slept under one plaid among the heather on the moors ofScotland. And the tears stood in his eyes for the thing which he hadseen that night.
On their way back Barra had bubbled over with laughing sneers at thedownfall of his immaculate and virtuous cousin, but Will Gordon hadpaced along sad and silent by his side. Ancient loyalty kept himwithout words, yet in his heart he condemned Lochinvar most bitterly,far more intensely indeed even than Barra.
Maisie and Kate were sitting busily sewing at their delicate whiteseams when the two men entered. The little Dutch lamp had beencarefully trimmed, and the whole room radiated cosiest comfort. As washer wont, Kate's place was by the window, where she sat looking ather work, keeping a somewhat cold and white face steadfastly upon themonotonous business of needle and thread.
Maisie sat sad and a little reminiscent of recent tears by the lamp.Her eyes were moist, and she did not look at all in the direction ofBarra and her husband, as they entered.
A sense of strain in the air paralyzed conversation after the firstgreetings had been interchanged. These were loud and eager on the sideof Barra, almost inaudible on the part of Kate and Maisie; and as forWill Gordon, he lay where he had flung himself so suddenly down uponthe long oaken couch.
"Adventures are to the adventurous, and to-night we have adventuredindeed," at last began my Lord of Barra, speaking directly to hishostess. "Your husband, with much kindness, accompanied me on my roundsof inspection, and, among other curious discoveries, it was madeentirely plain to us why our polite acquaintance Lochinvar was in sucha hurry to leave us."
Barra paused with a certain pleasure and appreciation of his own witin his voice. But no one spoke in the room. Will Gordon, indeed, gavean inarticulate groan and plunged heavily over upon the settle withhis face to the wall. Maisie turned her back a little more upon thespeaker, while Kate bent lower upon her sewing, as if the dim light hadsuddenly made it harder for her to see the stitches.
"And if you hesitate to believe the extraordinary things I have to tellyou, my friend here, Captain Gordon of the Covenanting regiment, willtell you where, in the discharge of my duty as provost-marshal of thecamp, it was our business to penetrate, and in what company and in whatcircumstances we found your cousin of Lochinvar."
"We do not want to hear. It was all our fault!" said Maisie, turningsuddenly full upon the speaker. Unconsciously to himself, Barra hadbeen using a somewhat pompous and judicial tone, as though he werepronouncing judgment upon a hardened offender.
At Maisie's words, the provost-marshal instantly sat erect in hischair. He was exceedingly astonished. A few hours before he had seenthese two women stern almost to severity over a mere breach of goodmanners. He could not imagine that now they would not utterly rejectand condemn such a reprobate as Wat Gordon had proved himself to be. Hefelt that he must surely have been misunderstood, so he proceeded tomake his meaning clear.
"But I tell you plainly, my ladies," Barra continued, still moreimpressively, "that your husband and I found your cousin of Lochinvarat the Hostel of the Coronation, of which you may have heard--therespending his living with harlots, flaunting their endearments in apublic place, and afterwards brawling with the meanest and rudest boorsof the camp."
"And I do not wonder!" cried Maisie Lennox, emphatically, "after theway he was used in this house, which ought to have been a home to him.William Gordon, I wonder how, as a Christian man, you could permit yourcousin to be so used!" she continued, fiercely turning upon her husbandand bursting into tears.
Will Gordon groaned inarticulately from the settle. He had notbeen present at the time, but he knew well that with women such atransparent subterfuge would avail him nothing.
"Why, Maisie," he began, speaking from the depths of the pillow, "didnot you yourself--"
"I do not think," said Barra, looking over to Will, "that your wifeunderstands that the Hostel of the Coronation is, of all the haunts ofsin in this city of Amersfort, the vilest and the worst. The man whowould make his good name a byword there is certainly unfit to have thehonor of admission into a circle so gracious, into society so pure asthat in which I first found him. I speak as the censor of the morals ofthe army, and also as one who has suffered many things for conscience'sake and in order to deserve the praise of them that do well."
Kate looked up for the first time since Will and Barra had come in.
As the latter finished speaking he noticed that her eyes were verydark, and yet at the same time very bright. The black of the pupilhad overspread the iris so that the whole eye at a distance appearedas dark as ink, but deep within the indignant light of a tragic loveburned steadily, like a lamp in the night.
The girl spoke quickly and clearly, as if the words had been forcedfrom her.
"Had I been so used at the only place I called 'home,' when I was astranger in a strange land, I tell you all I should have gone straightto the Hostel of the Coronation--or worse, if worse might be!" shecried, indignantly.
"And so also would I!" cried Maisie, with still greater emphasis,sticking her needle viciously into the table and breaking it as shespoke.
The settle creaked as Will Gordon leaped to his feet.
"Silly women, ye ken not what ye say!" he said, sternly. "Be wise andplead rather with the man in whose hands our cousin's very life maylie, for the deeds of this black night."
"His life--his life!" cried, instantly, Maisie and Kate together.
The latter rose to her feet, letting all her white bravery ofseamstressing slip unheeded to the ground. Maisie, on her part, turneda pale and tear-stained face eagerly up to her husband.
"Yes," said Barra, swiftly, eager to tell the story first, "it istrue--his life; for Walter Gordon, being in company at the place I havementioned with a light woman, brawled and insulted those who sat nearhim, offering to assert and defend her virtue at the sword's point.Then when he was withstood and threatened with arrest by my officers,as their duty was, he turned fiercely upon them and upon others, thesupporters of law and order, and now he lies in prison awaiting trialfor _murder_!"
Kate caught the table with her hand at the last terrible word, whichBarra hissed out with concentrated fury and hatred.
"Is this true?" she said, in a low voice, making a great effort toregain her calmness. She turned to Will Gordon as she spoke.
"Nay," said Will, "indeed I know nothing of the cause of the quarrel.But certain it is that there has been a most fierce brawl, and that inthe affray certain men have been grievously wounded, if not killed."
"And is our Wat in prison?" demanded Maisie, fiercely.
"He lies in the military prison of the city awaiting his trial bycourt-martial!" replied the provost.
Maisie turned her about and caught her husband by the braid of his coat.
"Go you to him at once--you must! Tell him it is all our fault--we havebeen unhappy and to blame, Kate and I--ask him to forgive."
And, being overwrought and strained, she put her head down on WillGordon's breast and wept aloud.
Kate went to her and took her hand gently. And to her Maisie instantlyturned, setting her husband aside with a pathetic little gesture ofrenunciation, as something which has been proven untrustworthy. Then,still leaning on Kate's shoulder, she passed slowly from the room.As Kate McGhie opened the door she flashed one glance, quick withmeasureless anger and contempt, back upon the two men who stood gazingafter her. Then she passed out.
There was a long silence between the provost-marshal and his host afterthe women had disappeared.
At last Barra broke in upon the awkward pause with a laugh of scornwhich ended with something like a sigh.
> "Oh, women! women," he cried. "From what pits will ye not dig the clayto make you your gods!"
"He had been our friend so long, and in such bitter passes anddesperate ventures," said Will Gordon, excusingly, speaking of Wat in ahushed voice almost as one would speak of the dead.
Barra shrugged his shoulders to intimate that the whole sex was utterlyimpossible of comprehension.
"Nevertheless, you will give our poor cousin your best word and officesto-morrow?" Will Gordon went on, anxiously.
"I shall see the prince in person," answered Barra, promptly, "andI shall make my endeavor to arrange that the prisoner shall not betried by court-martial--so that nothing summary may take place, and nosentence be hastily or vindictively carried out."
Will Gordon blanched at the word "summary," which in the severelydisciplined army of the States-General had but one meaning.
He conducted his guest to the door in silence. The moonlight wascasting deep shadows in the high-gabled street of Zaandpoort andglittering on the pole-axes and muskets of the provost's guard whostood without, stamping their feet impatiently and waiting theappearance of their leader.
"Till to-morrow, then!" said Will Gordon, as he parted.
"Till to-morrow!" replied the provost-marshal, more heartily than hehad yet spoken, giving him his hand.
But as he walked down the street towards the camp he smiled a smilefrom under the thin, drooping mustache which showed his teeth. Theyglittered white in the moonlight like a dog's.
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