*CHAPTER XXXVIII*
*THE PASSING OF ANDREW AND JEAN*
The land was in the iron grip of winter. No longer was there any workfor me in the fields, so that I was driven to spend nights and days inidleness. For a man to rest from his labours may be a pleasant thingfor one weary, whose heart is at ease; but my inactivity of body servedbut to fan the embers of my hopes, and I was tortured by lively flamesof hope which would flare up within me only to expire vacuously chokedby the cold ashes of reality. Mary was dead; my life was desolate!
On a morning in mid December I crawled out upon the sandstone ledgeabove the pool. The air was crisp and dry, so that my breath issuedfrom my mouth like a cloud of smoke; and, as I breathed, the chill ofthe atmosphere bit into my blood. The sky above me was blue, like apiece of polished and highly tempered steel; and only a few irresolutebeams of sunlight filtered through the gaunt branches of the trees onthe heights above me. The stream, where it poured into the pool, wasfestooned with dependent sword-points of ice; and the pool itself,except in the centre where the slow-moving waters still refused thefetters of winter, was shackled in ice. A robin was perched on a treeabove me--his buckler the one spark of warmth, his song the one note ofcheer.
I had paced up and down the narrow ledge several times when I heard thesound of footsteps. In the clear air they rang like iron upon iron.Alert, I listened to discover their direction. They came from down thestream. Someone was making his way along the course of the rivulettowards the pool. Could it be a dragoon on a quest at a venture, or wasour retreat discovered? Quickly I hurried round the edge of the pool.There was no time to slip into the cave without discovery--the footstepswere too close at hand. A spear of ice, and a stout heart could holdthe defile below the pool through which the intruder must pass before hecould reach the cave. If I held the gorge, the minister would have timeto make good his escape. His life was of greater worth than mine.
A glow pervaded me: the lust of combat was upon me. Life was sweet: butto die fighting was to die a death worth while, and the poignard of icewhich I held in my hand was a man's weapon. I peeped into the defile:the further end was blocked by the body of a man who, with face bentdownward, was choosing his footsteps with care. It was no soldier inthe trappings of war--but a countryman. The man raised his face and Icould have shouted for joy: it was Hector! He saw me at once, and waveda hand to me, and, hot with expectation, I awaited his coming. Soon hehad squeezed his way through, and stood beside me. I offered my hand inwelcome, and as I did so remembered that it still held my murderousweapon. I dropped it on the instant and it fell into the pool, itssharp end cutting a star-like hole in the sheet of ice. The packmanlaughed as he took my hand.
"So, so," he said, "ye thocht I was a trooper. A puir weapon yon! Gi'eme 'Trusty,'" and he struck the rocks with the head of his stick so thatthey rang. "And hoo is a' wi' ye?" he continued--"and the meenister?"
I had no need to reply, for at that moment he emerged from the cave.
Our first greetings over, we hustled the packman into the cave. Wespread food before him, and as he ate we plied him with questions. Onequestion was burning in my heart: but I knew the answer, and had not thecourage to put it; and as the minister was hungering for news, I gaveplace to him and held my peace.
How fared the Cause in the west country, and were the hill-men standingfirm? That was the essence of his questioning. And Hector, with eyesglowing so that they shone like little lamps in the darkness of hisface, told him all. The cruelties of the persecutors had reached theirzenith: but neither shootings, nor still more hideous torturesthreatened, could break the proud spirit of the Covenanters. As hetalked, Hector's voice thrilled until his last triumphant words rangthrough the cave like a challenge and a prophecy.
"Ay," he cried, "though the King's minions heap horror upon horror tillevery hill in the South o' Scotland is a heather-clad Golgotha, the menwill stand firm: and generations yet unborn will reap the harvest o'their sacrifice."
He ceased, and so deep a silence fell upon us that through the rock wallI could hear the splash of an icicle as it fell into the pool. Theminister's bowed head was in his hands. Awe and reverence fettered mytongue. Then Hector spoke again. He had taken his pipe from hispocket, and was filling it with care.
"And noo," he said, turning to me, "I ha'e news for you." A questionsprang to my lips, but before I could shape a word Hector held up hishand. "You maun ask nae questions till my tale is done. You can talk yerfill by and by: but hear me in silence first." I nodded my head, and hebegan.
"You mind I tellt ye, before I left, that when I went west I should tryto fin' oot what happened at Daldowie. Weel, on the road to Wigtown, Iheld away up into the hills, and by and by I cam' to the auld place. Itstood there--what had been a bien hoose and a happy home--a heap o'ruins, ae gable-end pointin' an angry finger tae the sky. I lookedamang the ruins, for I minded what you had seen there; but I sawnaething but ashes and charred stanes, save that Nature, a wee mairkindly than man is, had scattered a flooer or twa oot o' her lap in theby-gaun and they were bloomin' bonnily there. By and by I took the roadagain, and though I go as far West as the rocks below Dunskey, where theuntamed waves hammer the cliffs like an angry stallion, I gathered naneo' the news I was seekin'. But on the hame-comin' I dropped into theShip and Anchor at Kirkcudbright, and as I sat ower a pot o' yill Iheard a couple o' troopers haein' high words. What the quarrel was abootI dinna ken, but it ended by ane o' them springin' up and ganging oot o'the door. As he went, he half turned and said, wi' a laugh: 'Ye deservewhat the guid-wife o' Daldowie gied Claver'se.' Whereat the dragoonleft behin' let a roar o' laughter oot o' him and took a lang pull athis yill. When he set it doon he laughed again, and I jaloused that hisanger had passed. So I drew oot my pipe and tobacco, and I offered hima fill. He took the weed gledly, and then I drew in to his table andasked him to ha'e a drink. I ordered 'Solway waters,' for I ken hoothey can lowse the tongue, and when they cam' I clinked glasses wi' him,and by way o' settin' suspicion to rest, I drank to the King. Soon Ihad him crackin' away merrily. But I didna learn muckle frae him till Ihad plied him wi' mair drink, and then his tongue got the better o' hisdiscretion. Suddenly he said wi' a laugh, 'I deserve what the guid-wifeo' Daldowie gied to Claver'se, dae I? We'll see aboot that, my lad!' andhe laughed again. I had got my opening.
"'That seems to be a guid joke,' I said. 'If it's worth tellin' Ishould like to hear it.'
"'Oh,' he answered, 'it's a graun' joke; but for guidsake dinna belettin' on tae Claver'se I tellt ye. It's a sair point wi' him.'
"Little by little I got the story frae him in fragments mair or lessdisjointed. But since then I've put it thegither, and I'll tell it inmy ain way.
"Ae morning last April Claver'se and his troopers were oot on the moorsa mile or twa to the west o' Dairy, when they saw twa men comin' towardsthem. Ane o' the men was chasin' the other up and doon amang themoss-hags, and the troopers put spurs to their horses and sune had themsurrounded. When Claver'se looked at them he recognised in ane o' thema young Covenanter wha' had escaped twa nichts afore frae a barn nearNew Galloway where he had been flung after a dose o' the thumbikins. Theother was a much aulder man. The younger o' the twa was clean demented:and they could get nae sense oot o' him--juist a screed o' haiverswhenever they questioned him. The auld man was as dour as a rock--andwould gie nae account o' himsel', but it was enough that he had beenseen chasin' the daft lad on the moors, belike wi' the intention o'concealin' him in some hidie hole. Weel, Claver'se was for shootin' theauld man oot o' hand if he wouldna speak, and said as much; but a' theanswer he got was 'I'm ready, sir. Ye can dae nae mair than kill mybody,' and he took off his bonnet and looked undaunted up at the sky.Weel, just then ane o' the troopers drew up alangside Claver'se andspoke to him. He had recognised the man as Andrew Paterson o' Daldowie,and tellt Claver'se as much. 'O, ho!' said Claver'se, 'the old fox! Sothis is the guid-man o' Daldowie.
I think we had better tak' him hameto his ain burrow. Maybe we'll find other game there.' So wi' thatthey tied Andrew and the lad to the stirrup leathers o' twa troopers andmade for Daldowie--maybe ten miles awa.
"As they drew near to Daldowie they saw a woman standin' in the doorwaylookin' into the distance under the shade o' her hand. She dropped herhand, and made a half turn, and then she saw them comin'. Wi' that sherushed into the hoose and closed the door: but nae doot she was watchin'through a crack, for when they were near enough for her to see that herguid-man was a prisoner, she cam' oot again and stood waitin'. Whenthey drew up she threw oot her airms, and like a mither that rins taekeep her bairn frae danger, she ran towards her man, callin', 'Andra!Andra!' But at a sign frae Claver'se ane o' the dragoons turned hishorse across her path and kept her off. Then Claver'se louped frae hishorse, and tellin' ane o' the dragoons to lay hold on the woman, andcalling half a dozen to follow him, drew his sword and walked in at theopen door.
"Inside they made an awfu' steer, pokin' here and searchin' there,nosin' even into the meal barrel and castin' the blankets off the bedsafter Claver'se himsel' had driven his sword through and through them.Then ane o' the troopers spied a ladder in the corner, and up he goesinto the loft, and Claver'se follows him. Then they cam' doon again,Claver'se leadin' and no' lookin' pleased like. He stalked oot o' thekitchen into the open air. Juist then the daft laddie let a screech ooto' him, and Claver'se flung up his heid. 'What the devil is he yellingabout?' he cried. 'I'll stop his girning!' and wi' that he shouted anorder and twa sodgers ran forward and cuttin' the thongs frae hiswrists, dragged him tae the wall o' the hoose. They cast their handsoff him, but stood near enough to keep him frae runnin' away. He lookedat the dragoons wi' a simple look on his face, and then his e'enwandered away to the blue hills in the distance,--'From whence comethmine aid,' he said. But he spoke nae mair, for, wi' a quick 'Makeready: present: fire!' Claver'se let his sword drop, the musketscrashed, and the boy fell deid. 'A good riddance,' said Claver'se,spurning the body with his foot. 'There's enough daft folk in theworld,' and he laughed.
"There was a sudden turmoil among the men, and the soond o' a woman'svoice. The guid-wife was strugglin' to free hersel', and as she did soshe shouted, 'Inhuman deevils! Is there nae milk o' mercy in yer herts?What has the puir lad done that ye should murder him?' But a word fraeher husband quieted her, 'Jean,' he said--that was a'; but she stoodquite still and struggled nae mair, though the tears streamed doon herface. Then Claver'se made a sign and Andra was unbound and led beforehim, and at the same time the troopers let go their hold o' the womanand she cam' and stood beside her man. 'Daldowie,' says Claver'se, 'youhave long been suspected of consorting with and harbouring the hill-men.I have caught you red-handed to-day in the act of succouring one ofthem; and in your house I have found proof that you have shelteredfugitives from justice. What have you to say for yourself?' Andralooked his judge straight in the face. 'The facts are against me, sir;but I ha'e dune naething for which my conscience rebukes me, and I amready to answer to God.'
"'More cant! More cant!' roared Claver'se. 'You have to answer to me,the representative of the King. God only comes into the questionlater,' and he laughed as though he had said a clever thing. 'Will yetak' the Test? Will ye swear allegiance to the King?'"
"'Time was,' said Andra, 'that I would gladly ha'e sworn fealty to theKing in things temporal; but in things spiritual I am answerable to aHigher than ony Stuart. I was a loyal subject, like a' the hill-folk,till the Stuarts broke their ain pledged word: and ye canna' expect aScot, least o' a' a Galloway man, tae turn aboot like a weather-cock,when it pleases the King to turn.'
"'Damnable treason,' shouts Claver'se. 'Don't you know that the King isabove the law, and reigns by Divine Right?'
"Andra shook his head, but his wife answered: 'Ay, so the Stuarts say,but they waited till they got to England before they blew that bubble.Weel they kent there were ower mony jaggy thistles in Scotland for thatbag o' win' tae last long this side o' the border.'
"'Woman,' says Claver'se, angrily, 'be silent,' and turning to Andra hesaid: 'You know you have forfeited your life: many a man has died forless; but I would not be hard on you. Will you be done with theCovenanters? Say the word and you are free. Refuse'--and he waved hishand towards the body o' the lad. Andra followed the gesture wi' hise'en. Then he looked at Claver'se again--wi' nae sign o' fear on hisface. 'You ken my answer, sir, I canna.' And as Claver'se turnedangrily away the guid-wife threw her airms aboot her husband's neck andsobbed, 'Oh, Andra, my ain brave man!' The dragoons had loosened theirhold o' him, and he put his airms aboot her, and patted her heid.'Dinna greet, lassie,' he murmured, 'dinna greet. Death is naething:only a doorway that lets us ben the Maister's hoose. I'll wait for yeyonder; the pairtin' will no be lang.'
"Claver'se had turned to the dragoons and was rapidly gi'eing themorders. Twa sodgers laid hold on the woman and tried to drag her awa'frae her man, but wi' her face buried on his shoulder she clung to himsobbing. Wi' his ain hands he took her airms frae his neck, and haudin'her face between his palms, kissed her. 'My ain Jean,' he said, 'Godkeep you. You ha'e been a guid wife tae me,' and kissing her again heleft her and took his place by the wall o' the hoose. The firing partywas ready. Claver'se half raised his sword to gi'e the signal; then hechecked himsel' and turned to Andra.
"'An' you will,' he said, 'you may have five minutes to make your peacewith your Maker.'
"'I thank you,' replied Andra, 'but that's settled lang syne.'Claver'se's blade rose sharply in the air. 'Ready,' he shouted--and thesword fell, and as its point struck the ground, Andra Paterson o'Daldowie passed ower unafraid.
"The smoke had no' had time to blaw frae the muzzles o' the muskets ereJean had broken frae her captors, and flung hersel' on her knees besidethe body o' her man. She raised his heid and held it in her lap: andbendin' ower kissed his face. 'Andra,' she cried, 'Andra--my ain bonnieman! Waken, Andra! waken! and speak to me. Andra! Andra! Canna yehear me? It's me--Jean, yer ain wee lass: ye mind, Andra, ca'in' methat lang syne afore Dauvit was born. Andra, speak to me! Juist ae weeword, Andra!' She paused, and stared wildly at the upturned face. Thenbursting into tears she sobbed, 'Oh, Andra, my ain dear man, the faithero' my bairns, they ha'e killed ye.' As the tears streamed doon hercheeks she took her kerchief frae her neck and spread it ower his face.Then lovingly and tenderly she laid his heid doon and spreadin' her openhands abune it said, 'Ane o' the elect noo.'
"Then she rose tae her feet. As she did so she noticed the body o' thelad, and wringing her hands knelt doon beside it. 'Puir wee laddie,'she said. 'God comfort your mither, wherever she may be,' and she bentower and kissed his broo. Then springing up she faced Claver'se and thedragoons. He was pacing up and doon restlessly, sword in hand. Clenchingher fists she shook them angrily at him. 'May God in heaven pey ye forthis day's wark. Inhuman fiends! Are ye men born o' women--or spawn o'the de'il?' and leaping forward sae suddenly that Claver'se hadna timeto throw himsel' on guard, she seized his sword and wrenched it frae hisgrip afore he knew that she was on him. She swung up the blade, andbrocht it wi' a crash upon his heid. It was sic a blow as would ha'ecleft him to the chin, if she had had skill wi' the weapon. But itturned in her haun' so that she struck him wi' the flat o't, and he fellsenseless to the ground. And then she turned on the troopers--ae womanagainst twenty armed men--striking richt and left, stabbing, lunging,and thrusting till she had scattered the hale troop, aghast at heronslaught, and the mischief she had dune their leader. But her triumphwas short. Four o' the troopers plunged their spurs into their horsesand rode her down, and as she lay stunned ane o' the troopersdismounting put his musket to her heid and fired."
Flower o' the Heather: A Story of the Killing Times Page 38
