Salute to Adventurers

by John Buchan

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  HOW I STROVE ALL NIGHT WITH THE DEVIL.

  It was late in the evening ere we reached the shelf in the high glenswhich was the headquarters of the Indian host. I rode on a horse,between Onotawah and Shalah, as if I were a chief and no prisoner. Onthe road we met many bands of Indians hastening to the trysting-place,for the leader had flung his outposts along the whole base of therange, and the chief warriors returned to the plateau for the lastritual. No man spoke a word, and when we met other companies the onlygreeting was by uplifted hands.

  The shelf was lit with fires, and there was a flare of torches in thecentre. I saw an immense multitude of lean, dark faces--how many Icannot tell, but ten thousand at the least. It took all my faith towithstand the awe of the sight. For these men were not the commonIndian breed, but a race nurtured and armed for great wars, disciplinedto follow one man, and sharpened to a needle-point in spirit. Perhapsif I had been myself a campaigner I should have been less awed by thespectacle; but having nothing with which to compare it, I judged this ahost before which the scattered Border stockades and Nicholson's scantymilitia would go down like stubble before fire.

  At the head of the plateau, just under the brow of the hill, and facingthe half-circle of level land, stood a big tent of skins. Before it wasa square pile of boulders about the height of a man's waist, heaped onthe top with brushwood so that it looked like a rude altar. Around thisthe host had gathered, sitting mostly on the ground with knees drawn tothe chin, but some few standing like sentries under arms. I was takento the middle of the half-circle, and Shalah motioned me to dismount,while a stripling led off the horses. My legs gave under me, for theywere still very feeble, and I sat hunkered up on the sward like theothers. I looked for Shalah and Onotawah, but they had disappeared, andI was left alone among those lines of dark, unknown faces.

  I waited with an awe on my spirits against which I struggled in vain.The silence of so vast a multitude, the sputtering torches, lightingthe wild amphitheatre of the hills, the strange clearing with itsaltar, the mystery of the immense dusky sky, and the memory of what Ihad already endured--all weighed on me with the sense of impendingdoom. I summoned all my fortitude to my aid. I told myself that Ringanbelieved in me, and that I had the assurance that God would not see mecast down. But such courage as I had was now a resolve rather than anyexhilaration of spirits. A brooding darkness lay on me like a cloud.

  Presently the hush grew deeper, and from the tent a man came. I couldnot see him clearly, but the flickering light told me that he was verytall, and that, like the Indians, he was naked to the middle. He stoodbehind the altar, and began some incantation.

  It was in the Indian tongue which I could not understand. The voice washarsh and discordant, but powerful enough to fill that whole circle ofhill. It seemed to rouse the passion of the hearers, for grave facesaround me began to work, and long-drawn sighs came from their lips.

  Then at a word from the figure four men advanced, bearing somethingbetween them, which they laid on the altar. To my amazement I saw thatit was a great yellow panther, so trussed up that it was impotent tohurt. How such a beast had ever been caught alive I know not. I couldsee its green cat's eyes glowing in the dark, and the striving of itsmuscles, and hear the breath hissing from its muzzled jaws.

  The figure raised a knife and plunged it into the throat of the greatcat. The slow lapping of blood broke in on the stillness. Then thevoice shrilled high and wild. I could see that the man had marked hisforehead with blood, and that his hands were red and dripping. Heseemed to be declaiming some savage chant, to which my neighbours beganto keep time with their bodies. Wilder and wilder it grew, till itended in a scream like a seamew's. Whoever the madman was, he knew themystery of Indian souls, for in a little he would have had that hostlusting blindly for death. I felt the spell myself, piercing through myawe and hatred of the spell-weaver, and I won't say but that my wearyhead kept time with the others to that weird singing.

  A man brought a torch and lit the brushwood on the altar. Instantly aflame rose to heaven, through which the figure of the magician showedfitfully like a mountain in mist. That act broke the wizardry for me.To sacrifice a cat was monstrous and horrible, but it was alsouncouthly silly. I saw the magic for what it was, a maniac's trickery.In the revulsion I grew angry, and my anger heartened me wonderfully.Was this stupendous quackery to bring ruin to the Tidewater? Though Ihad to choke the life with my own hands out of that warlock's throat, Ishould prevent it.

  Then from behind the fire the voice began again. But this time Iunderstood it. The words were English. I was amazed, for I hadforgotten that I knew the wizard to be a white man.

  "_Thus saith the Lord God_," it cried, "_Woe to the bloody city! I willmake the pile great for fire. Heap on wood, kindle the fire, consumethe flesh, and spice it well, and let the bones be burned_."

  He poked the beast on the altar, and a bit of burning yellow fur felloff and frizzled on the ground.

  It was horrid beyond words, lewd and savage and impious, anddesperately cruel. And the strange thing was that the voice wasfamiliar.

  "_O thou that dwellest upon many waters_," it went on again, "_abundantin treasures, thine end is come, and the measure of thy covetousness.The Lord of Hosts hath sworn by Himself, saying, Surely I will fillthee with men as with caterpillars_...."

  With that last word there came over me a flood of recollection. It wasspoken not in the common English way, but in the broad manner of my ownfolk.... I saw in my mind's eye a wet moorland, and heard a voiceinveighing against the wickedness of those in high places.... I smelledthe foul air of the Canongate Tolbooth, and heard this same mantestifying against the vanity of the world.... "_Cawterpillars!_" Itwas the voice that had once bidden me sing "Jenny Nettles."

  Harsh and strident and horrible, it was yet the voice I had known, nowblaspheming Scripture words behind that gruesome sacrifice. I think Ilaughed aloud. I remembered the man I had pursued my first night inVirginia, the man who had raided Frew's cabin. I remembered Ringan'stale of the Scots redemptioner that had escaped from Norfolk county,and the various strange writings which had descended from the hills.Was it not the queerest fate that one whom I had met in my boyishscrapes should return after six years and many thousand miles to playonce more a major part in my life! The nameless general in the hillswas Muckle John Gib, once a mariner of Borrowstoneness, and some timeleader of the Sweet-Singers. I felt the smell of wet heather, and thefishy odours of the Forth; I heard the tang of our country speech, andthe swirl of the gusty winds of home.

  But in a second all thought of mirth was gone, and a deep solemnityfell upon me. God had assuredly directed my path, for He had broughtthe two of us together over the widest spaces of earth. I had no fearof the issue. I should master Muckle John as I had mastered him before.My awe was all for God's mysterious dealing, not for that poor foolposturing behind his obscene sacrifice. His voice rose and fell ineldritch screams and hollow moans. He was mouthing the words of someBible Prophet.

  "_A Sword is upon her horses, and upon her chariots, and upon all themingled people that are in the midst of her, and they shall become aswomen. A Sword is upon her treasures, and they shall be robbed; adrought is upon her waters, and they shall be dried up; for it is theland of graven images, and they are mad upon their idols_."

  Every syllable brought back some memory. He had the whine and sough inhis voice that our sectaries prized, and I could shut my eyes andimagine I was back in the little kirk of Lesmahagow on a hot summermorn. And then would come the scream of madness, the high wail of theSweet-Singer.

  "_Thus saith the Lord God: Behold, I will bring a King of kings fromthe north, with horses and with chariots, and with horsemen andcompanies and muck people. He shall slay with the sword thy daughtersin the field_...."

  "Fine words," I thought; "but Elspeth laid her whip over yourshoulders, my man."

  "... _With the hoofs of his horses shall he tread down all thy streets.He shall slay thy people by the sword,
and thy strong garrisons shallgo down to the ground.... And I will cause the music of thy songs tocease, and the sound of thy harps shall no more be heard."_

  I had a vision of Elspeth's birthday party when we sat round theGovernor's table, and I had wondered dismally how long it would bebefore our pleasant songs would be turned to mourning.

  The fires died down, the smoke thinned, and the full moon rising overthe crest of the hills poured her light on us. The torches flickeredinsolently in that calm radiance. The voice, too, grew lower and theincantation ceased. Then it began again in the Indian tongue, and thewhole host rose to their feet. Muckle John, like some old priest ofDiana, flung up his arms to the heavens, and seemed to be invoking hisstrange gods. Or he may have been blessing his flock--I know not which.Then he turned and strode back to his tent, just as he had done on thatnight in the Cauldstaneslap....

  A hand was laid on my arm and Onotawah stood by me. He motioned me tofollow him, and led me past the smoking altar to a row of painted whitestones around the great wigwam. This he did not cross, but pointed tothe tent door, I pushed aside the flap and entered.

  An Indian lamp--a wick floating in oil--stood on a rough table. But itsthin light was unneeded, for the great flood of moonshine, comingthrough the slits of the skins, made a clear yellow twilight. By it Imarked the figure of Muckle John on his knees.

  "Good evening to you, Mr. Gib," I said.

  The figure sprang to its feet and strode over to me.

  "Who are ye," it cried, "who speaks a name that is no more spoken onearth?"

  "Just a countryman of yours, who has forgathered with you before. Haveyou no mind of the Cauldstaneslap and the Canongate Tolbooth?"

  He snatched up the lamp and peered into my face, but he was long pastrecollection.

  "I know ye not. But if ye be indeed one from that idolatrous country ofScotland, the Lord hath sent you to witness the triumph of His servant,Know that I am no longer the man John Gib, but the chosen of the Lord,to whom He hath given a new name, even Jerubbaal, saying let Baal pleadagainst him, because he hath thrown down his altar."

  "That's too long a word for me to remember, Mr. Gib, so by your leaveI'll call you as you were christened."

  I had forced myself to a slow coolness, and my voice seemed to maddenhim.

  "Ye would outface me," he cried. "I see ye are an idolater from thetents of Shem, on whom judgment will be speedy and surprising. Know yenot what the Lord hath prepared for ye? Down in your proud cities yeare feasting and dicing and smiling on your paramours, but the writingis on the wall, and in a little ye will be crying like weaned bairnsfor a refuge against the storm of God. Your strong men shall be slain,and your virgins shall be led captive, and your little children shallbe dashed against a stone. And in the midst of your ruins I, even I,will raise a temple to the God of Israel, and nations that know me notwill run unto me because of the Lord my God."

  I had determined on my part, and played it calmly.

  "And what will you do with your Indian braves?" I asked.

  "Sharon shall be a fold of flocks, and the valley of Achor a place tolie down in, for my people that have sought me," he answered.

  "A bonny spectacle," I said. "Man, if you dare to cross the Border youwill be whipped at a cart-tail and clapped into Bedlam as a crazyvagabond."

  "Blasphemer," he shrieked, and ran at me with the knife he had used onthe panther.

  It took all my courage to play my game. I stood motionless, looking athim, and his head fell. Had I moved he would have struck, but to hismad eyes my calmness was terrifying.

  "It sticks in my mind," I said, "that there is a commandment, Do nomurder. You call yourself a follower of the Lord. Let me tell you thatyou are no more than a bloody-minded savage, a thousandfold more guiltythan those poor creatures you are leading astray. You serve Baal, notGod, John Gib, and the devil in hell is banking his fires and countingon your company."

  He gibbered at me like a bedlamite, but I knew what I was doing. Iraised my voice, and spoke loud and clear, while my eyes held his inthat yellow dusk.

  "Priest of Baal," I cried, "lying prophet! Go down on your knees andpray for mercy. By the living God, the flames of hell are waiting foryou. The lightnings tremble in the clouds to scorch you up and sendyour black soul to its own place."

  His hands pawed at my throat, but the horror was descending on him. Heshrieked like a wild beast, and cast fearful eyes behind him. Then herushed into the dark corners, stabbing with his knife, crying that thedevils were loosed. I remember how horribly he frothed at the mouth.

  "Avaunt," he howled. "Avaunt, Mel and Abaddon! Avaunt, Evil-Merodachand Baal-Jezer! Ha! There I had ye, ye muckle goat. The stink of hellis on ye, but ye shall not take the elect of the Lord."

  He crawled on his belly, stabbing his knife into the ground. I easilyavoided him, for his eyes saw nothing but his terrible phantoms. VerilyShalah had spoken truth when he said that this man had bodily conversewith the devils.

  Then I threw him--quite easily, for his limbs were going limp in theextremity of his horror. He lay gasping and foaming, his eyes turningback in his head, while I bound his arms to his sides with my belt. Ifound some cords in the tent, and tied his legs together. He moanedmiserably for a little, and then was silent.

  * * * * *

  I think I must have sat by him for three hours. The world was verystill, and the moon set, and the only light was the flickering lamp.Once or twice I heard a rustle by the tent door. Some Indian guard wason the watch, but I knew that no Indian dared to cross the forbiddencircle.

  I had no thoughts, being oppressed with a great stupor of weariness. Imay have dozed a little, but the pain of my legs kept me fromslumbering.

  Once or twice I looked at him, and I noticed that the madness had goneout of his face, and that he was sleeping peacefully. I wiped the frothfrom his lips, and his forehead was cool to my touch.

  By and by, as I held the lamp close, I observed that his eyes wereopen. It was now time for the gamble I had resolved on. I rememberedthat morning in the Tolbooth, and how the madness had passed, leavinghim a simple soul. I unstrapped the belt, and cut the cords about hislegs.

  "Do you feel better now, Mr. Gib?" I asked, as if it were the mostordinary question in the world.

  He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Was it a dwam?" he inquired. "I getthem whiles."

  "It was a dwam, but I think it has passed."

  He still rubbed his eyes, and peered about him, like a big collie dogthat has lost its master.

  "Who is it that speirs?" he said. "I ken the voice, but I havena heardit this long time."

  "One who is well acquaint with Borrowstoneness and the links of Forth,"said I.

  I spoke in the accent of his own country-side, and it must have wokesome dim chord in his memory, I made haste to strike while the iron washot.

  "There was a woman at Cramond..." I began.

  He got to his feet and looked me in the face. "Ay, there was," he said,with an odd note in his voice. "What about her?" I could see that hishand was shaking.

  "I think her name was Alison Steel."

  "What ken ye of Alison Steel?" he asked fiercely. "Quick, man, whatword have ye frae Alison?"

  "You sent me with a letter to her. D'you not mind your last days inEdinburgh, before they shipped you to the Plantations?"

  "It comes back to me," he cried. "Ay, it comes back. To think I shouldlive to hear of Alison! What did she say?"

  "Just this. That John Gib was a decent man if he would resist the devilof pride. She charged me to tell you that you would never be out of herprayers, and that she would live to be proud of you. 'John will nevershame his kin,' quoth she."

  "Said she so?" he said musingly. "She was aye a kind body. We were tobe married at Martinmas, I mind, if the Lord hadna called me."

  "You've need of her prayers," I said, "and of the prayers of everyChristian soul on earth. I came here yestereen to find you mouthingblasphemies, and howling like a mad tyke a
mid a parcel of heathen. Andthey tell me you're to lead your savages on Virginia, and give thatsmiling land to fire and sword. Think you Alison Steel would not beblack ashamed if she heard the horrid tale?"

  "'Twas the Lord's commands," he said gloomily, but there was noconviction in his words.

  I changed my tone. "Do you dare to speak such blasphemy?" I cried. "TheLord's commands! The devil's commands! The devil of your own sinfulpride! You are like the false prophets that made Israel to sin. Whatbrings you, a white man, at the head of murderous savages?"

  "Israel would not hearken, so I turned to the Gentiles," said he.

  "And what are you going to make of your Gentiles? Do you think you'veput much Christianity into the heart of the gentry that were watchingyour antics last night?"

  "They have glimmerings of grace," he said.

  "Glimmerings of moonshine! They are bent on murder, and so are you, andyou call that the Lord's commands. You would sacrifice your own folk tothe heathen hordes. God forgive you, John Gib, for you are noChristian, and no Scot, and no man."

  "Virginia is an idolatrous land," said he; but he could not look up atme.

  "And are your Indians not idolaters? Are you no idolater, with yourburnt offerings and heathen gibberish? You worship a Baal and a Molochworse than any Midianite, for you adore the devils of your own rottenheart."

  The big man, with all the madness out of him, put his towsy head in hishands, and a sob shook his great shoulders.

  "Listen to me, John Gib. I am come from your own country-side to saveyou from a hellish wickedness, I know the length and breadth ofVirginia, and the land is full of Scots, men of the Covenant you haveforsworn, who are living an honest life on their bits of farms, andworshipping the God you have forsaken. There are women there likeAlison Steel, and there are men there like yourself before youhearkened to the devil. Will you bring death to your own folk, withwhom you once shared the hope of salvation? By the land we both haveleft, and the kindly souls we both have known, and the prayers you saidat your mother's knee, and the love of Christ who died for us, I adjureyou to flee this great sin. For it is the sin against the Holy Ghost,and that knows no forgiveness."

  The man was fairly broken down. "What must I do?" he cried. "I'm all ina creel. I'm but a pipe for the Lord to sound through."

  "Take not that Name in vain, for the sounding is from your own corruptheart. Mind what Alison Steel said about the devil of pride, for it wasthat sin by which the angels fell."

  "But I've His plain commands," he wailed. "He hath bidden me cast downidolatry, and bring the Gentiles to His kingdom."

  "Did He say anything about Virginia? There's plenty idolatry elsewherein America to keep you busy for a lifetime, and you can lead yourGentiles elsewhere than against your own kin. Turn your face westward,John Gib. I, too, can dream dreams and see visions, and it is borne inon me that your road is plain before you. Lead this great people awayfrom the little shielings of Virginia, over the hills and over thegreat mountains and the plains beyond, and on and on till you come toan abiding city. You will find idolaters enough to dispute your road,and you can guide your flock as the Lord directs you. Then you will beclear of the murderer's guilt who would stain his hands in kindlyblood."

  He lifted his great head, and the marks of the sacrifice were still onhis brow.

  "D'ye think that would be the Lord's will?" he asked innocently.

  "I declare it unto you," said I. "I have been sent by God to save yoursoul. I give you your marching orders, for though you are half a madmanyou are whiles a man. There's the soul of a leader in you, and I wouldkeep you from the shame of leading men to hell. To-morrow morn you willtell these folk that the Lord has revealed to you a better way, and bynoon you will be across the Shenandoah. D'you hear my word?"

  "Ay," he said. "We will march in the morning."

  "Can you lead them where you will?"

  His back stiffened, and the spirit of a general looked out of his eyes.

  "They will follow where I bid. There's no a man of them dare cheep atwhat I tell them."

  "My work is done," I said. "I go to whence I came. And some day I shallgo to Cramond and tell Alison that John Gib is no disgrace to his kin."

  "Would you put up a prayer?" he said timidly. "I would be the better ofone."

  Then for the first and last time in my life I spoke aloud to my Makerin another's presence, and it was surely the strangest petition everoffered.

  "Lord," I prayed, "Thou seest Thy creature, John Gib, who by theperverseness of his heart has come to the edge of grievous sin. Takethe cloud from his spirit, arrange his disordered wits, and lead him toa wiser life. Keep him in mind of his own land, and of her who praysfor him. Guide him over hills and rivers to an enlarged country, andmake his arm strong against his enemies, so be they are not of his ownkin. And if ever he should hearken again to the devil, do Thou blasthis body with Thy fires, so that his soul may be saved."

  "Amen," said he, and I went out of the tent to find the grey dawnbeginning to steal up the sky.

  Shalah was waiting at the entrance, far inside the white stones. 'Twasthe first time I had ever seen him in a state approaching fear.

  "What fortune, brother?" he asked, and his teeth chattered.

  "The Tidewater is safe. This day they march westwards to look for theirnew country."

  "Thy magic is as the magic of Heaven," he said reverently. "My heartall night has been like water, for I know no charm which hath prevailedagainst the mystery of the Panther."

  "'Twas no magic of mine," said I. "God spoke to him through my lips inthe night watches."

  We took our way unchallenged through the sleeping host till we hadclimbed the scarp of the hills.

  "What brought you to the tent door?" I asked.

  "I abode there through the night, I heard the strife with the devils,and my joints were loosened. Also I heard thy voice, brother, but Iknew not thy words."

  "But what did you mean to do?" I asked again.

  "It was in my mind to do my little best to see that no harm befellthee. And if harm came, I had the thought of trying my knife on theribs of yonder magician."

  CHAPTER XXVIII.

  HOW THREE SOULS FOUND THEIR HERITAGE.

  In that hour I had none of the exhilaration of success. So strangelyare we mortals made that, though I had won safety for myself and mypeople, I could not get the savour of it. I had passed too far beyondthe limits of my strength. Now that the tension of peril was gone, mylegs were like touchwood, which a stroke would shatter, and my foolishhead swam like a merry-go-round. Shalah's arm was round me, and helifted me up the steep bits till we came to the crown of the ridge.There we halted, and he fed me with sops of bread dipped in eau-de-vie,for he had brought Ringan's flask with him. The only result was to makeme deadly sick. I saw his eyes look gravely at me, and the next I knewI was on his back. I begged him to set me down and leave me, and Ithink I must have wept like a bairn. All pride of manhood had flown inthat sharp revulsion, and I had the mind of a lost child.

  As the light grew some strength came back to me, and presently I wasable to hobble a little on my rickety shanks. We kept the very crest ofthe range, and came by and by to a promontory of clear ground, thesame, I fancy, from which I had first seen the vale of the Shenandoah.There we rested in a nook of rock, while the early sun warmed us, andthe little vapours showed, us in glimpses the green depths and thefar-shining meadows.

  Shalah nudged my shoulder, and pointed to the south, where a glendebouched from the hills. A stream of mounted figures was pouring outof it, heading for the upper waters of the river where the valleybroadened again. For all my sickness my eyes were sharp enough toperceive what manner of procession it was. All were on horseback,riding in clouds and companies without the discipline of a march, butmoving as swift as a flight of wildfowl at twilight. Before the othersrode a little cluster of pathfinders, and among them I thought I couldrecognize one taller than the rest.

  "Your magic hath prevailed, brother," Shalah said
. "In an hour's timethey will have crossed the Shenandoah, and at nightfall they will campon the farther mountains."

  That sight gave me my first assurance of success. At any rate, I hadfulfilled my trust, and if I died in the hills Virginia would yet blessher deliverer.

  And yet my strongest feeling was a wild regret. These folk were makingfor the untravelled lands of the sunset. You would have said I had gotmy bellyful of adventure, and should now have sought only a quiet life.But in that moment of bodily weakness and mental confusion I was shakenwith a longing to follow them, to find what lay beyond the farthestcloud-topped mountain, to cross the wide rivers, and haply to come tothe infinite and mystic Ocean of the West.

  "Would to God I were with them!" I sighed.

  "Will you come, brother?" Shalah whispered, a strange light in hiseyes. "If we twain joined the venture, I think we should not be thelast in it. Shalah would make you a king. What is your life in themuddy Tidewater but a thing of little rivalries and petty wrangles andmoping over paper? The hearth will soon grow cold, and the bright eyesof the fairest woman will dull with age, and the years will find youheavy and slow, with a coward's shrinking from death. What say you,brother? While the blood is strong in the veins shall we ride westwardon the path of a king?"

  His eyes were staring like a hawk's over the hills, and, light-headedas I was, I caught the infection of his ardour. For, remember, I was solow in spirit that all my hopes and memories were forgotten, and I wasin that blank apathy which is mastered by another's passion. For alittle the life of Virginia seemed unspeakably barren, and I quickenedat the wild vista which Shalah offered. I might be a king over a proudpeople, carving a fair kingdom out of the wilderness, and ruling itjustly in the fear of God. These western Indians were the stuff of agreat nation. I, Andrew Garvald, might yet find that empire of whichthe old adventurers dreamed.

  With shame I set down my boyish folly. It did not last, long, for to mydizzy brain there came the air which Elspeth had sung, that song ofMontrose's which had been, as it were, the star of all my wanderings.

  "For, if Confusion have a part, Which virtuous souls abhor--"

  Surely it was confusion that had now overtaken me. Elspeth's clearvoice, her dark, kind eyes, her young and joyous grace, filled again mymemory. Was not such a lady better than any savage kingdom? Was not theservice of my own folk nobler than any principate among strangers?Could the rivers of Damascus vie with the waters of Israel?

  "Nay, Shalah," I said. "Mine is a quieter destiny. I go back to theTidewater, but I shall not stay there. We have found the road to thehills, and in time I will plant the flag of my race on the Shenandoah."

  He bowed his head. "So be it. Each man to his own path, but I wouldours had run together. Your way is the way of the white man. Youconquer slowly, but the line of your conquest goes not back. Slowly iteats its way through the forest, and fields and manors appear in thewaste places, and cattle graze in the coverts of the deer. Listen,brother. Shalah has had his visions when his eyes were unsealed in thenight watches. He has seen the white man pressing up from the sea, andspreading over the lands of his fathers. He has seen the glens of thehills parcelled out like the meadows of Henricus, and a great multitudesurging ever on to the West. His race is doomed by God to perish beforethe stranger; but not yet awhile, for the white man comes slowly. Ithath been told that the Children of the West Wind must seek theircradle, and while there is time he would join them in that quest. Thewhite men follow upon their heels, but in his day and in that of hisson's sons they will lead their life according to the ancient ways. Hehath seen the wisdom of the stranger, and found among them men afterhis own heart; but the Spirit of his fathers calls, and now he returnsto his own people."

  "What will you do there?" I asked.

  "I know not. I am still a prince among them, and will sway theircouncils. It may be fated that I slay yonder magician and reign in hisstead."

  He got to his feet and looked proudly westward.

  "In a little I shall overtake them. But I would my brother had been ofmy company."

  Slowly we travelled north along the crests, for though my mind was nowsaner, I had no strength in my body. The hill mists came down on us,and the rain drove up from the glens. I was happy now for all myweakness, for I was lapped in a great peace. The raw weather, which hadonce been a horror of darkness to me, was now something kindly andhomelike. The wet smells minded me of my own land, and the cool buffetsof the squalls were a tonic to my spirit. I wandered into pleasantdreams, and scarce felt the roughness of the ground on my bare feet andthe aches in every limb.

  Long ere we got to the Gap I was clean worn out. I remember that I fellconstantly, and could scarcely rise. Then I stumbled, and the lastpower went out of will and sinew. I had a glimpse of Shalah's graveface as I slipped into unconsciousness.

  I woke in a glow of firelight. Faces surrounded me, dim wraith-likefigures still entangled in the meshes of my dreams. Slowly the scenecleared, and I recognized Grey's features, drawn and constrained, andyet welcoming. Bertrand was weeping after his excitable fashion.

  But there was a face nearer to me, and with that face in my memory Iwent off into pleasant dreams. Somewhere in them mingled the words ofthe old spaewife, that I should miss love and fortune in the sunshineand find them in the rain.

  The strength of youth is like a branch of yew, for if it is bent itsoon straightens. By the third day I was on my feet again, with onlythe stiffness of healing wounds to remind me of those desperatepassages. When I could look about me I found that men had arrived fromthe Rappahannock, and among them Elspeth's uncle, who had girded on agreat claymore, and looked, for all his worn face and sober habit, amighty man of war. With them came news of the rout of the Cherokees,who had been beaten by Nicholson's militia in Stafford county anddriven down the long line of the Border, paying toll to every stockade.Midway Lawrence had fallen upon them and driven the remnants into thehills above the head waters of the James. It would be many a day, Ithought, before these gentry would bring war again to the Tidewater.The Rappahannock men were in high feather, convinced that they hadborne the brunt of the invasion. 'Twas no business of mine to enlightenthem, the more since of the three who knew the full peril, Shalah wasgone and Ringan was dead. My tale should be for the ear of Lawrence andthe Governor, and for none else. The peace of mind of Virginia shouldnot be broken by me.

  Grey came to me on the third morning to say good-bye. He was going backto the Tidewater with some of the Borderers, for to stay longer with ushad become a torture to him. There was no ill feeling in his proudsoul, and he bore defeat as a gentleman should.

  "You have fairly won, Mr. Garvald," he said. "Three nights ago I sawclearly revealed the inclination of the lady, and I am not one tostrive with an unwilling maid. I wish you joy of a great prize. Youstaked high for it, and you deserve your fortune. As for me, you havetaught me much for which I owe you gratitude. Presently, when my heartis less sore, I desire that we should meet in friendship, but till thenI need a little solitude to mend broken threads."

  There was the true gentleman for you, and I sorrowed that I should everhave misjudged him. He shook my hand in all brotherliness, and wentdown the glen with Bertrand, who longed to see his children again.

  Elspeth remained, and concerning her I fell into my old doubting mood.The return of my strength had revived in me the passion which had dweltsomewhere in my soul from, the hour she first sang to me in the rain.She had greeted me as girl greets her lover, but was that any more thanthe revulsion from fear and the pity of a tender heart? Doubtsoppressed me, the more as she seemed constrained and uneasy, her eyesfalling when she met mine, and her voice full no longer of its frankcomradeship.

  One afternoon we went to a place in the hills where the vale of theShenandoah could be seen. The rain had gone, and had left behind it ataste of autumn. The hill berries were ripening, and a touch of flamehad fallen on the thickets.

  Soon the great valley lay below us, running out in a golden haze to thefar b
lue mountains.

  "Ah!" she sighed, like one who comes from a winter night into a firelitroom. She was silent, while her eyes drank in its spacious comfort.

  "That is your heritage, Elspeth. That is the birthday gift to which oldStudd's powder-flask is the key."

  "Nay, yours," she said, "for you won it."

  The words died on her lips, for her eyes were abstracted. My legs werestill feeble, and I had leaned a little on her strong young arm as wecame up the hill, but now she left me and climbed on a rock, where shesat like a pixie. The hardships of the past had thinned her face anddeepened her eyes, but her grace was the more manifest. Fresh and dewyas morning, yet with a soul of steel and fire--surely no loveliernymph ever graced a woodland. I felt how rough and common was my ownclay in contrast with her bright spirit.

  "Elspeth," I said hoarsely, "once I told you what was in my heart."

  Her face grew grave. "And have you not seen what is in mine?" sheasked.

  "I have seen and rejoiced, and yet I doubt."

  "But why?" she asked again. "My life is yours, for you have preservedit. I would be graceless indeed if I did not give my best to you whohave given all for me."

  "It is not gratitude I want. If you are only grateful, put me out ofyour thoughts, and I will go away and strive to forget you. There weretwenty in the Tidewater who would have done the like."

  She looked down on me from the rock with the old quizzing humour in hereyes.

  "If gratitude irks you, sir, what would you have?"

  "All," I cried; "and yet, Heaven knows, I am not worth it. I am no manto capture a fair girl's heart. My face is rude and my speech harsh,and I am damnably prosaic. I have not Ringan's fancy, or Grey'sgallantry; I am sober and tongue-tied and uncouth, and my mind runsterribly on facts and figures. O Elspeth, I know I am no hero ofromance, but a plain body whom Fate has forced into a month ofwildness. I shall go back to Virginia, and be set once more at myaccompts and ladings. Think well, my dear, for I will have nothing lessthan all. Can you endure to spend your days with a homely fellow likeme?"

  "What does a woman desire?" she asked, as if from herself, and hervoice was very soft as she gazed over the valley. "Men think it is ahandsome face or a brisk air or a smooth tongue. And some will have itthat it is a deep purse or a high station. But I think it is the honestheart that goes all the way with a woman's love. We are not so blind asto believe that the glitter is the gold. We love romance, but we seekit in its true home. Do you think I would marry you for gratitude,Andrew?"

  "No," I said.

  "Or for admiration?"

  "No," said I.

  "Or for love?"

  "Yes," I said, with a sudden joy.

  She slipped from the rock, her eyes soft and misty. Her arms were aboutmy neck, and I heard from her the words I had dreamed of and yet scarcehoped for, the words of the song sung long ago to a boy's ear, andspoken now with the pure fervour of the heart--"My dear and only love."

  Years have flown since that day on the hills, and much has befallen;but the prologue is the kernel of my play, and the curtain which roseafter that hour revealed things less worthy of chronicle. Why should Itell of how my trade prospered mightily, and of the great house webuilt at Middle Plantation; of my quarrels with Nicholson, which weremany; of how we carved a fair estate out of Elspeth's inheritance, andled the tide of settlement to the edge of the hills? These things wouldseem a pedestrian end to a high beginning. Nor would I weary the readerwith my doings in the Assembly, how I bearded more Governors than one,and disputed stoutly with His Majesty's Privy Council in London. Thehistorian of Virginia--now by God's grace a notable land--may,perhaps, take note of these things, but it is well for me to keepsilent. It is of youth alone that I am concerned to write, for it is acomfort to my soul to know that once in my decorous progress throughlife I could kick my heels and forget to count the cost; and as youthcries farewell, so I end my story and turn to my accounts.

  Elspeth and I have twice voyaged to Scotland. The first time my uncleand mother were still in the land of the living, but they died in thesame year, and on our second journey I had much ado in settling theirestates. My riches being now considerable, I turned my attention to thelittle house of Auchencairn, which I enlarged and beautified, so thatif we have the wish we may take up our dwelling there. We have found inthe West a goodly heritage, but there is that in a man's birth placewhich keeps tight fingers on his soul, and I think that we desire todraw our last breath and lay our bones in our own grey country-side.So, if God grants us length of days, we may haply return to Douglasdalein the even, and instead of our noble forests and rich meadows, lookupon the bleak mosses and the rainy uplands which were our childhood'smemory.

  That is the fancy at the back of both our heads. But I am very surethat our sons will be Virginians.

  THE END.