"Yes. So, do I take it that you are still set on fighting the crown? After all the price you have paid!"
"Not the crown, Henry. I have no quarrel with the crown, as such. Scotland's ancient crown. It is misgovernment from London that I have fought. And will go on fighting. Mis-government in Scotland by Scots is bad enough. But that at least we should have the power to put right. But misgovernment, even good government, from another kingdom - that is intolerable for free men."
They paced in silence for a little.
"What of James?" Henry asked. "We hear only rumours. Wild rumours. Contradictory. Some say that he has abdicated, others that he never will. Some that he has fled to France, others that he is still near London. Some even say that he intends to come to Scotland. Although this I doubt. Now."
"Why now? I think John Graham would bring him back, if he would come. And there is still a Scots army at Watford."
"I doubt it because of what I found at Edinburgh. I went there yesterday, as I do each month, to render a report on the property, Saltoun, to Lord Dumbarton at Edinburgh Castle, or to his lawyer. Yesterday I found Dumbarton gone and the lawyer, Archie Primrose, much upset. He believes him to have fled the country."
"Fled? The Commander-in-Chief!"
"He says that Dumbarton secretly took ship from Leith. A ship bound for Le Havre. Went hurriedly, leaving all behind, save his wife and some personal papers. Primrose does not know what to think, what to do, who to turn to. He says that his father, Archie's own father, Lord Carrington, the Lord Clerk Register, has had word that King James sailed for France on the last day of the year. But whether this is true or not, he does not know. So Dumbarton may have decided to go and join his master."
"Aye, indeed - who knows? There have been so many stories. And James is utterly unpredictable. But it may be so -for he could not remain at Rochester indefinitely. And William's patience must be running out. And if so, Henry, lad - it looks as though we might be getting Saltoun back!"
"I would not be too sure of that, Dand. For it is still a forfeited estate. If not Dumbarton's, then the government's. Which could be worse."
"Nevertheless, as matters are now, I think that James's men here would be doubtful about handing over Saltoun to another. And any such about accepting it. We shall see."
"What are you going to do meantime, Andrew? Till we do see?"
"I cannot remain hidden in your house here, like some skulking fugitive, frightened at being recognised - that is certain. No, I think that I shall go travelling again. But about Scotland, this time. Using another name. Seeking to test opinion, to discover how matters stand, to seek out friends and men I could work with. I have been out of my own country for six long years. I need to learn much, see much, clear my mind. So that when I send word to William, I may do so from knowledge, not hearsay."
"But . . . not too soon, Andrew? Not for some time? You must stay awhile, here. Even though you have to lie low.
You will not hurry away from us now, when you are just home . . . ?"
"Scarcely home, lad. This is your house - and Margaret's - not mine. And it is a small house to be cooped up in. I am not going to get amongst your feet."
"What nonsense! Our home is yours. Indeed this house is your property, in truth, like all the rest of the estate. But that aside, we want you with us."
"Not all the time, Henry. Or you may. But I think that your wife would not."
"I swear that she does! Margaret loves you, Andrew. Always has done. I used to be almost jealous of you sometimes. She talked of you so much, feared for you, even called out your name in her sleep! Margaret would never wish you away."
Andrew swallowed. "You are good. Margaret too. But... I value your love and affection too much to endanger any of it, Henry. As I might well do by being overmuch amongst you, between you. A husband and wife need their . . . privacy. Besides, I cannot remain penned in the house like a stalled ox! Oh, I shall stay a day or two, never fear. But. . ." He looked sidelong at his brother. "Your marriage? It is . . . good? Happy? You, you suit each other?"
"Yes, oh yes. So very well. She is of all women the most wonderful! Adorable. And kind, kind."
"Kind?"
"Yes, kind. Beyond belief. I do not know what I would do without her. I am not like you, Andrew, a man who can work and fight and live alone. I require . . . support."
"Do not we all . . .?" his brother said.
13
Events rather overtook Andrew Fletcher's proposed programme. By the time that he arrived in Edinburgh, as Mr. Robertson from Strathearn, to put up at a modest hostelry in the Cowgate, at least some of the rumours had been confirmed. King James had indeed departed for France, but without abdicating first. However, as price for being allowed to do so unhindered, he had authorised Parliament to be recalled, the English Parliament. Many of his highly-placed supporters, if they had not already gone, were following him - which was leaving the field fairly clear for William. And Viscount Dundee and the rump of his Scots army was marching homewards.
All this was in England, to be sure. In Scotland the hiatus continued. Leadership, that winter, was indeed all but nonexistent. There were no doubt strong men in the country somewhere; but they were biding their time; and time-serving was a matter for judicious assessment, none could deny. When Dundee and his soldiers came back, it might be different.
There was not total inaction. Andrew learned that a group of Scots nobles and one bishop had in fact left for London to urge William to accept the Scottish crown, on certain conditions -although, of course, they had no real authority to do so. The Prelate, Rose, Bishop of Edinburgh, was indeed under attack from his fellow-bishops for this move, for it seemed that the Episcopal Church - which was the official Scottish Church by royal edict - was more in favour of James than of William, who, being a strong Calvinist, could be expected to support and advance the Presbyterian faith. And since most of the nobility and gentry had found it expedient, during the last two decades, to be Catholic or Episcopalian, William's acceptance was by no means certain, even though the vast mass of the people, strongly Presbyterian since the Reformation, were for him.
All this, and more, Andrew learned as he moved about in the Scots capital, in the ale-houses, hostelries, markets and the like, in his guise as a grain, fodder and cattle-dealer from Strathearn. He knew a good deal about these commodities from his running of the Saltoun farms in the past, and so could sustain the image convincingly enough. He did, also, make his presence known secretly, to one or two friends whom he felt that he could trust - Sir David Carnegie, at Little's Close, Scott of Harden, Cockburn of Ormiston; but these he visited only after dark and after ascertaining that they had no other callers. Being mid-winter, most of the aristocracy were staying at their Edinburgh town-houses rather than on their country estates.
Carnegie, of course, was the best-informed as to the political situation and seemed glad to see Andrew back, however urgent as to his warnings about taking care and doing nothing to draw attention to himself. According to him, although the government figures were indeed lying pretty low meantime, and with good reason, their minions, in their nervous state and left largely to their own devices, might do foolish, unpredictable things. Indeed, at the moment, Scotland was being governed, if that was the word, largely by these underlings, their betters and principals keeping well out of sight. In theory the Drummond brothers were ruling Scotland for King James, at the moment, James, Earl of Perth as Chancellor and John, Earl of Melfort as Secretary of State, both Catholics with a Gordon mother. Their cousin, now Duke of Gordon, formerly Marquis of Huntly, had been appointed Commander-in-Chief in the missing Dumbarton's place but he was not considered to be any formidable soldier. The Earl of Moray, another Catholic, was assistant Secretary of State. Sir George Mackenzie, the Lord Advocate, had fallen out with these gentry and resigned, to be succeeded, oddly enough, by none other than Sir James Dalrymple of Stair, he of the John Knox Confession of Faith, back from exile, and presumably having made himself acc
eptable again to the powers-that-were. So it was possible that William had at least one friend in the Scots government. But the real strong men of James's party were the two soldiers, John Graham and Colin Lindsay, Earl of Balcarres, second-in-command, both Privy Councillors and both out of the country but on their way home. When they arrived, with their troops, then would be the moment of decision. And it would not be long now, since they were reported to have reached Durham.
Andrew postponed his projected tour of the country for the time being, deciding that for the immediate future Edinburgh was the place to be. Meantime he sent a fairly lengthy report to Gilbert Burnet for onward transmission to the Prince of Orange.
In those two weeks of waiting he returned on two evenings to Saltoun and on one to Beil.
Strangely, it was at West Saltoun that he received the important news that he, and all Scotland, awaited, on his third visit there, and not from Carnegie or other highly-placed source. Soon after his arrival, another visitor rode into the darkened dower-house yard - William Paterson, from Dumfries. And he was full of news; like money-men everywhere he appeared to have swift and accurate sources of information.
"Both Houses of Parliament in London have declared James abdicant, having broken the essential contract between monarch and people and abandoned the country," he announced. "They have offered the crown to Mary and William, with the effective rule in William's hands. And William has accepted and agreed to a Bill of Rights to limit the powers of the monarchy. He will be declared King and his wife Queen, when she reaches London, in some two weeks' time. Mid-February. So - the die is cast!"
"At last!" Henry cried. "Now we shall see some movement, some advance."
"But James himself? He has not abdicated? From either throne?" Andrew asked.
"No. Or if he has, there is no word of it from France."
"Then how lawful, how effective, is this pronouncement by the English Parliament. Can they force an abdication? If the monarch does not agree?"
"They must believe that they can. And they must have the best legal advice, surely?"
"Or choose to ignore it! I would doubt if they can do this. Abdications can be forced, yes - but I would judge that the instrument which makes it lawful, binding, would have to be signed by the monarch himself."
Paterson shrugged. "As to that I know not. But William must accept it as valid, since he is already calling himself King."
"William desires to accept it. But that does not make it lawful."
"You sound almost like one of James's men!" Henry exclaimed. "One of these Jacobites, as they are calling themselves. You fought for William!"
"Worked for, scarcely fought. Though I was prepared to. I am not against William's accession. In England. Far from it. But if it is not lawful, there could be endless trouble.
And of course, it does not apply to Scotland, in any case."
"If William and Mary are King and Queen of England, both grand-children of Charles the First, then the chances are strong that they will become King and Queen of Scots also. Who else is there?"
"There are three choices, I suppose - even four. James could remain King, here. His infant son, the apparent heir, could be King in his place, with a Regent. Anne, his second daughter could be Queen of Scots, with her husband, Prince George of Denmark, Consort. And lastly, as a far cry perhaps, but possible - indeed it might appeal to many - there is Monmouth's son, the young Earl of Dalkeith. Monmouth assured me that he held his father's marriage-lines to Lucy Walters, his mother - a secret marriage, in Holland, but genuine enough, despite Charles's later denials. So young Dalkeith could be the true heir."
"Save us -I never heard of this!" Paterson exclaimed. "What a tale!"
"Nor I," Henry said. "Do you credit it, Andrew? This of a marriage?"
"Yes. Leastwise, I believe that Monmouth believed it. He told me in confidence. He did not seek to make anything of it, then - although he might have done had his invasion been successful. He did not show me the paper but said that he possessed it."
"But. . . Lord, this could change all! If it was known and accepted," Henry declared. "It turns all tapsalteerie! Where is this paper? These marriage-lines?"
"That I do not know. Monmouth may have carried it about with him. In which case it could have fallen into James's hands, when the Duke was executed - perhaps why he was executed! And would be destroyed, you may be sure. Or he may have left it with his wife, the Duchess of Buccleuch. Or it may still be in Holland."
"That document, if it exists, would be worth a fortune indeed!" the money-conscious Paterson asserted.
"Andrew," Margaret put in, "is it your intention to use this information? It could be dangerous, I think."
"I do not know. I have thought much on it, but cannot make up my mind. Without the document itself, there is not a lot that could be done. Only an assertion and no proof. The threat of it might be useful - that is all. In the right quarters."
"I think you should be very careful about using it. Or any such threat," she said, earnestly. "You have sufficient enemies as it is. To offend James and William, and their supporters -as this would - could be the end of you!"
"Never fear, lass - I shall be discreet on this."
"What is the next move, then, if William has become King of England ?" Henry wondered. "He may well consider that he is King of the United Kingdom also, may he not? And therefore of Scotland too."
"I left him in no doubts about that! Gilbert Burnet also will not let him believe so. Nor the Reverend Carstairs, who is another of his chaplains and whom he made minister of the English Presbyterian congregation at Leyden. He is a true Scot and as close to William as Gilbert is. No, I think William will not make that mistake, whatever others he may. Mr. Paterson -you mentioned a Bill of Rights which the English Parliament was insisting on, limiting the powers of the crown? Have you heard of the details?"
"No. Only that William had accepted it."
"This is hopeful, at least. He, of course, has been reared, not as an autocratic monarch, but as almost an Elector, as Stadt-holder. So he is no believer in the divine right of kings. We, in Scotland, will have to make up our own Bill of Rights to present to him - a wonderful opportunity to improve the rule and governance of this nation. At last!"
"Do not be too sanguine, Andrew," Margaret warned. "Once William finds himself on the throne in London, he may take a different attitude than he did as Prince of Orange."
"But the Scots Estates of Parliament have the power to make him adhere. We must see that they do so."
"And you intend to see that they do!" Henry said.
"I do - if it is in my power."
"Then, whilst you are at it, Mr. Fletcher, see that the discrimination against Scots traders, in England and the colonies, is ended," Paterson added. "There are sore barriers, I have found, unfair and prejudicial. We have been a great trading nation in the past. With France, the Low Countries, the Empire, even Muscovy. Much of that we have lost, because of English jealousy and wars. We can get it back. And better, trade more widely still. With the Americas. When I was there, in the Carolinas, in the lands of the Caribs, in Darien and Yucatan, I learned how vast are the riches waiting to be picked up by men with courage and foresight. I tell you, there is a whole new world waiting ..."
"Ah, yes, Mr. Paterson - tell us of your exploits and experiences in the Americas," Margaret urged, clearly anxious to get away from the dangerous subject of politics. "Andrew says that you had most exciting adventures."
Nothing loth, William Paterson launched forth.
* »
It was a month later that they had another significant visitor at West Saltoun, even more unexpected than William Paterson -and again Andrew was there, for Edinburgh, indeed all South Scotland, was in a turmoil and the city was a good place for such as Andrew Fletcher to avoid meantime. The Scots army was home, and James's supporters had taken new heart and crept out of their holes, to resume overtly the reins of power. The name of the Lord Viscount of Dundee was, of a sudden
, on everyone's lips; for it seemed that, before fleeing to France, King James had appointed Graham to be his right hand in Scotland, not exactly Lord High Commissioner, since he had called no parliament, more like a viceroy, with command over both military and civil power. So Bloody Clavers was, for the moment, uncrowned king; and he was not the man to falter or to hide his light under any bushel. It was the turn of William's supporters to go to ground, especially in the capital, with the returned army encamped in the park of Holyroodhouse, below Arthur's Seat, and more or less at liberty to hold the city to ransom.
Which made it all the more surprising that the visitor to West Saltoun that evening of early March was none other than John Graham himself, alone save for a single trooper as groom. And, like Andrew, he did his visiting under cover of darkness, even though it was ostensibly to see his Cousin Margaret.
After a somewhat restrained welcome and a purely formal congratulation on his viscountcy, he lost no time in asking for speech with Andrew, declaring that he knew very well that he was at Saltoun and that what he had to say to him was important and could be much to that man's advantage.
So Andrew was brought from the back-quarters, to eye the newcomer warily however affably he was greeted.
"The returned prodigal himself!" Graham exclaimed, smiling. "Only, in reverse, as it were, no? The loser, with all the powers and opportunities to be the winner!"
"From yourself, my lord, I take that as a compliment!"
"Take it as you like, man - so long as you also take my offer and advice. Which I have come here to give you."
"I cannot think that that is likely. We choose different paths, you and I."
"Aye - but you it is who has always chosen the wrong paths. As witness your present state. Why be always the loser? The betrayed, the man cast off?"
"Better than being the betrayer, at least! And who has cast me off now?"
"You ask that? Surely even you . . . !" Graham paused. "But perhaps a little privacy might be advisable?"
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