*CHAPTER XII*
*THE GREATER LOVE*
Idly I pulled a little sprig of thyme which grew beside me, and crushingit between my fingers inhaled its perfume.
My companion watched me, saying: "Wonderful! wonderful! what gloriesthere are in creation. Many a time I've lain awake at nights andthought about it all. Flowers on the moor, far bonnier than anythingthat ever man fashioned; birds in the air lilting sweeter melodies thanman can make; the colour spilled across the sky when the sun sets; themist on the hills. Glory everywhere; but nothing to the gloryyonder"--and he raised his eyes to the heavens.
When we had rested for a time, my companion rose and we set out again.
The sun was setting when we came within sight of our hiding places.
"Come to my side of the loch," he said. "Ye'll want your supper beforeye make for your bed," and together we made for the place where we hadalready enjoyed so many meals together. I went to the little stream tosee if haply I might discover a trout there, but he forbade me sternly.
"Must I tell ye again that it is the Sabbath day? Ye maunna catch fishthe nicht."
He left me for a moment, and sought his little store, and when he cameback, we took our meal in silence. When we had finished he said: "I amwearied to-night; God send us sweet repose," and kneeling down hecommended us both and "all good hill-folk" to the protection of theAlmighty. He prayed too for his little congregation, and as he did so Iwondered if another prayer might at that hour be ascending like incensefrom the lips of the girl who had begun to haunt my heart; and Iwondered if in her petitions there would be any thought of me.
When his prayer was over the old man rose to his feet, and laying a handupon my shoulder while I bowed my uncovered head he lifted his face tothe sky and gave me his blessing. There was a catch in my voice as,touched at heart and humbled, I bade him "Good night."
I walked round the end of the loch and sought my hiding-place, butthough I was fatigued I could not fall asleep. The stars wereglittering afar, and I wondered if at that moment she, too, were lookingup at their beauty. I lived through once again all the incidents of theday in which she had played a part. I heard her sweet voice singing, Isaw the light upon her hair, the glint in her eyes and, once again, Ifelt the pressure of her hand. There in the darkness I lifted my ownright hand to my lips and kissed it--for had she not touched it? Then Ifell asleep, but even as I slept she walked, an angel, through mydreams.
When I awoke my first thought was of her: then, as I looked up at thesky, I judged that the day was already some hours past the dawn.Cautiously I separated the fronds of brackens and looked along the moor.What I saw made me draw back in horror: then, with a beating heart, Itook courage and peeped carefully through once more.
The troopers were upon us, and on my side of the loch there were sometwenty who, scattered about, on horseback, were quartering andrequartering the whole hill-side. I looked warily across to the otherside of the loch. There I could see none. I knew that my safety lay inabsolute stillness. A movement of one of the bracken stems beneathwhich I lay might betray me--even my breathing might be heard, and Iknew the uncanny instinct with which a trooper's horse was sometimesaware of the presence of a fugitive when his rider might be ignorant.As I listened to the voices of the troopers, and heard the hoofs oftheir horses, I felt a sudden love for all the timorous hunted creaturesof the earth. In imagination I saw a hare, with ears laid back, andeyes dilate with fear, lying clapped in her form.
In my extremity I thought of Mary, and wondered if she knew of my peril.My lips were dry as sand, my hands were moist, and my heart was beatingloudly, so that I thought the sound of it must be heard by my pursuers.Would it be a speedy death there on the moorland, or would I be taken toWigtown and given a trial? Life had never seemed sweeter than in thatmorning hour, and now fate was about to dash the cup of happiness frommy lips. I dared not stir to look again through the brackens, but Iknew from the sound of the voices that some of the troopers were nowclose to my hiding-place. With ears alert I listened. Surely that wasAgnew's voice. I heard the jangle of bridle chains, and the creak ofstirrup leathers: I could hear the heavy breathing of the horses--theywere closing in upon me on every side. One minute more and I should bediscovered, and then, death! And I, because I had learned to love, hadgrown afraid to die.
Suddenly, clear and shrill, the sound of a flute came from the far sideof the loch. What madness was this? Did not the old man know that thetroopers were upon us? In the very teeth of danger he was calmlyplaying a tune that I had heard more than once in the moonlit hours ofthe night. O fool! What frenzy had seized him?
The sound reached the troopers. I heard a voice shout, "What the devilis that?" and the tramp of the horses ceased. The player played on....There was a sharp word of command; the horses were spurred to thegallop, and raced to the other side of the loch. As they passed myhiding-place one of them almost brushed my feet with its hoofs. Theplayer played on.... There was no tremor in his notes; clear and shrillthey cleft the moorland air. I took courage and peered out. Look whereI might I could see no trooper on my side of the loch, but on the otherside I saw them rapidly converging to the place from which the musiccame. The player ceased as suddenly as he had begun, and lying there inmy hiding-place I cursed him for his folly. Never before had I heardhis flute save in the hours of darkness. And then the truth flashedupon me. It was not madness: it was sacrifice! He had seen my danger,and to save me, with no thought of self, he had done this thing.
Would they find him? I, with no skill in prayer, found myself prayingfervently that he might escape. Then something within me cried: "You cansave him--show yourself." It was the voice of Mary, and, startled, Ipeered through the brackens to see if she could be near, but there wasno one to be seen on my side of the loch and nothing to be heard but thetrailing of the wind along the tops of the heather. "Save him!" criedthe voice again. I sprang to my feet and shouted, but the wind carriedmy voice away over my shoulder. Then I heard loud cries on the otherside of the loch and I knew that the troopers had found the Minister....Could I save him now? ... Was any good purpose to be served by mysurrender, or did it mean simply that two lives would be taken in placeof one? Again I heard the voice: "Too late," it said, "too late," andit was the voice of Mary, choked with tears.
I threw myself down again, and cursed myself for a coward. I could notsee what was happening on the other side of the loch. For a time therewas the tumult of many voices, and then all was still. I knew what thatmeant. Lag or Claver'se or whatever devil incarnate might be at thehead of the troop was putting my friend to the test. Would he take theoath? I knew that to him allegiance to his God was far more preciousthan fealty to an earthly king. I could see the whole scene: he, calm,in the circle of his accusers, with the firing party charging theirweapons. I could hear the bullying voice of the commander trying tobreak his spirit, and then I knew--for I had seen it--that he would begiven five minutes to make his peace with God. Little need for that!... The crash of muskets tore the silence and I knew that AlexanderMain, hillman, and Saint, had won his crown of glory at the last.
I felt the tears brim in my eyes, and trickle scalding down my cheeks.Then I was seized with dread once more. Would the troopers be contentwith this one victim, or would they come again to my side of the lochand continue their search? I knew not; I could only wait for whatevermight happen. In a few minutes I should know.
I could hear the sound of the troopers' voices and their laughter, andpeering through the brackens I saw the little cavalcade go back to theedge of the loch where they gave their horses to drink. In a body theymarched to the end of the loch. If they swung round to the left andcame again to quarter my side of the hill, my fate was sealed. Withhands clenched I waited, watching. I was taut as a bow-string withsuspense. The string snapped: I was free!--for when they reached theend of the loch, they set their horses to the ascent that led to the top
of the hill, and in half an hour the last of them had disappeared. Andthere on my bed of heather beneath the brackens I lay and cried like achild.
I lay there till the sun went down; then in the gloaming I stole roundto the other side of the loch to look for my friend. I found him atlast. He was lying on his back, with eyes open, looking into the depthof the sky. There was a smile upon his face, a smile of pride andunspeakable joy. A great bloody gash, where the murderous bullets hadstruck him, lay over his heart. Beside him, face downward, lay an openbook. I picked it up reverently. It was his Bible, and a splash ofblood lay upon the open page across these words: "They shall hunger nomore, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, norany heat." Gently I closed the book, and sat down beside him. I hadlost a friend; a friend who had shown me the greater love; he was aCovenanter, and I--God help me!--I had been a persecutor. My heart wastorn by shame and remorse: but in the dim light his quiet pale face wassmiling, as though he was satisfied.
Suddenly a thought struck me. I must give him burial, and quick on theheels of the thought came another: The dead need no covering but thekindly earth; would it be sacrilege to strip him of his clothes? He hadno further need of them, while I was in sore straits to get rid of myuniform. I knelt down and peered into his face. The smile there gaveme courage. In life he had been shrewd and kindly, and I knew that indeath he would understand. So, very gently, I began to strip him. As Itook his coat off something fell from the pocket. It was his flute. Iput it beside his Bible. I have kept both till this day.
Then when I had stripped him, I cast about in my mind for some means togive him burial. Not far away I knew there was a gash in the hill-sidewhere once some primeval tarn had been. Reverently I lifted his bodyand bore it thither. Gently I laid it down, and standing with bowedhead under the starlit sky, I pronounced over that noble dust all Icould remember of the English burial service. Did ever Covenanter havea stranger burial? I trow not. Then reverently I happed him over withheather and brackens and turf which I tore from the hill-side, andlaboured on until the trench was filled and I had built a cairn ofstones over it.
So I left him sleeping there, and, as I turned away, I was overwhelmedby a sense of loss and loneliness.
I gathered up the clothing which I had taken from his body, and bore itto the side of the loch. There, from the coat, I washed the stains ofblood, and laid it on the sward to dry.
Occupied as I had been, I was unconscious of the flight of time; but Iwas reminded by a sudden access of hunger. A problem faced me, for Ihad no food of my own. For days I had been depending on the charity ofmy friend; and I did not know where his store lay hidden. In thatwilderness it was well secreted lest any questing bird or four-footedcreature of the moorlands might find it. A sudden apprehension seizedme, and, with its coming, my hunger disappeared. I hurried to the placewhere we were wont to take our evening meal together, and then I walkedin the direction which he had usually taken when he went to fetch theprovender. I sought beneath likely tussocks of heather and under theshadow of boulders and beneath the shelves of overhanging turf, wheresome sheep, aforetime, had had a rubbing place. But nowhere could Ifind a trace of his store. Baffled, I determined that I would seek myhiding-place and lie down to sleep for the rest of the night. In themorning, with the help of the light, perhaps my quest would be rewarded.So I betook myself to my heather bed, and as I crawled under thebracken--and laid myself down, I thought how, but for the divine charityof my dead friend, I should at that hour have been sleeping the sleep ofdeath.
Flower o' the Heather: A Story of the Killing Times Page 12
