by Jane Porter
Chapter XV.
The Hut.
Meanwhile the Lady Helen, hardly rational from the horror and hope thatagitated her, extricated herself from the dead body; and in hereagerness to escape, would certainly have fallen over the precipice,had not the same gallant arm which had covered her persecutor withwounds, caught her as she sprung from the litter. "Fear not, lady,"exclaimed a gentle voice; "you are under the protection of a Scottishknight."
There was a kindness in the sound, that seemed to proclaim the speakerto be of her own kindred; she felt as if suddenly rescued by a brother;and dropping her head on his bosom, a shower of grateful tears relievedher heart, and prevented her fainting. Aware that no time was to belost, that the enemy might soon be on him again, he clasped her in hisarms, and with the activity of a mountain deer, crossed two rushingstreams; leaping from rock to rock, even under the foam of their flood;and then treading with a light and steady step, an alpine bridge of onesingle tree, which arched the cataract below, he reached the oppositeside, where, spreading his plaid upon the rock, he laid the tremblingHelen upon it. Then softly breathing his bugle, in a moment he wassurrounded by a number of men, whose rough gratulations might havereawakened the alarm of Helen, had she not still heard his voice.There was graciousness and balm-distilling sweetness in every tone; andshe listened in calm expectation.
He directed the men to take their axes, and cut away, on their side ofthe fall, the tree which arched it. It was probable the villian he hadjust assailed, or his followers, might pursue him; and he thought itprudent to demolish the bridge.
The men obeyed, and the warrior returned to his fair charge. It wasraining fast; and fearful of further exposing her to the inclemenciesof the night, he proposed leading her to shelter. "There is a hermit'scell on the northern side of this mountain. I will conduct you thitherin the morning as to the securest asylum; but meanwhile we must seek anearer refuge."
"Anywhere, sir, with honor my guide," answered Helen, timidly.
"You are safe with me, lady," returned he, "as in the arms of theVirgin. I am a man who can now have no joy in womankind, but when as abrother I protect them. Whoever you are, confide in me, and you shallnot be betrayed."
Helen confidently gave him her hand, and strove to rise; but at thefirst attempt, the shackles piercing her ankles, she sunk again on theground. The cold iron on her wrists touched the hand of her preserver.He now recollected his surprise on hearing the clank of chains, whencarrying her over the bridge. "Who," inquired he, "could have done thisunmanly deed?"
"The wretch from whom you rescued me--to prevent my escape from acaptivity worse than death."
While she spoke, he wrenched open the manacles from her wrists andankles, and threw them over the precipice. As she heard them dash intothe torrent, an unutterable gratitude filled her heart; and againgiving her hand to him to lead her forward, she said with earnestness,"O sir, if you have a wife or sister--should they ever fall into thelike peril with mine; for in these terrific times, who is secure? mayHeaven reward your bravery, by sending them such a preserver!"
The stranger sighed deeply: "Sweet lady," returned he, "I have nosister, no wife. But my kindred is nevertheless very numerous, and Ithank thee for thy prayer." The hero sighed profoundly again, and ledher silently down the windings of the declivity. Having proceeded withcaution, they descended into a little wooded dell, and soon approachedthe half-standing remains of what had once been a shepherd's hut.
"This," said the knight, as they entered, "was the habitation of a goodold man, who fed his flock on these mountains; but a band of Southronsoldiers forced his only daughter from him, and, plundering his littleabode, drove him out upon the waste. He perished the same night, bygrief, and the inclemencies of the weather. His son, a brave youth,was left for dead by his sister's ravishers; but I found him in thisdreary solitude, and he told me the too general story of his wounds andhis despair. Indeed, lady, when I heard your shrieks from the oppositeside of the chasm, I thought they might proceed from this poor boy'ssister, and I flew to restore them to each other."
Helen shuddered, as he related a tale so near resembling her own; andtrembling with weakness, and horror of what might have been her fatehad she not been rescued by this gallant stranger, she sunk exhaustedupon a turf seat. The chief still held her hand. It was very cold,and he called to his men to seek fuel to make a fire. While hismessengers were exploring the crannies of the rocks for dried leavesand sticks, Helen, totally overcome, leaned almost motionless againstthe wall of the hut. Finding, by her shortened breath, that she wasfainting, the knight took her in his arms, and supporting her on hisbreast, chafed her hands and her forehead. His efforts were in vain;she seemed to have ceased to breathe; hardly a pulse moved her heart.Alarmed at such signs of death, he spoke to one of his men who remainedin the hut.
The man answered his master's inquiry by putting a flash into his hand.The knight poured some of its contents into her mouth. Her streaminglocks wetted his cheek. "Poor lady!" said he, "she will perish inthese forlorn regions, where neither warmth nor nourishment can befound."
To his glad welcome, several of his men soon after entered with aquantity of withered boughs, which they had found in the fissures ofthe rock at some distance. With these a fire was speedily kindled; andits blaze diffusing comfort through the chamber, he had thesatisfaction of hearing a sigh from the breast of his charge. Her headstill leaned on his bosom when she opened her eyes. The light shonefull on her face.
"Lady," said he, "I bless God you are revived." Her delicacy shrunk atthe situation in which she found herself; and raising herself, thoughfeebly, she thanked him, and requested a little water. It was given toher. She drank some, and would have met the fixed and compassionategaze of the knight, had not weakness cast such a film before her eyesthat she scarcely saw anything. Being still languid, she leaned herhead on the turf seat. Her face was pale as marble, and her long hair,saturated with wet, by its darkness made her look of a more deadly hue.
"Death! how lovely canst thou be!" sighed the knight to himself--he evengroaned. Helen started, and looked around her with alarm. "Fear not,"said he, "I only dreaded your pale looks; but you revive, and will yetbless all that are dear to you. Suffer me, sweet lady, to drain thedangerous wet from these tresses?" He took hold of them as he spoke.She saw the water running from her hair over his hands, and allowinghis kind request, he continued wiping her glossy locks with his scarf,till, exhausted by fatigue, she gradually sunk into a profound sleep.
Dawn had penetrated the ruined walls of the hut before Lady Helenawoke. But when she did, she was refreshed; and opening hereyes--hardly conscious where she was, or whether all that floated in hermemory were not the departing vapors of a frightful dream--she turnedher head and fixed them upon the figure of the knight, who was seatednear her. His noble air; and the pensive expression of his finefeatures, struck like a spell upon her gathering recollections; she atonce remembered all she had suffered, all that she owed to him. Shemoved. Her preserver turned his eyes toward her; seeing she was awake,he rose from the side of the dying embers he had sedulously kept aliveduring her slumber, and expressed his hopes that she felt restored.She returned him a grateful reply, in the affirmative; and he quittedher, to rouse his men for their journey to the hermit's cell.
When he re-entered, he found Helen braiding up the fine hair which hadso lately been scattered by the elements. She would have risen at hisapproach, but he seated himself on a stone at her feet. "We shall bedetained here a few minutes longer," said he; "I have ordered my men tomake a litter of crossed branches, to bear you on their shoulders.Your delicate limbs would not be equal to the toil of descending theseheights, to the glen of stones. The venerable man who inhabits therewill protect you until he can summon your family, or friends, toreceive his charge."
At these words, which Helen thought were meant to reprove her for nothaving revealed herself, she blushed; but fearful of breathing a nameunder the interdict of t
he English governors, and which had alreadyspread devastation over all with whom it had been connected; fearful ofinvolving her preserver's safety, by making him aware of the persecutedcreature he had rescued; she paused for a moment, and then, with thecolor heightening on her cheeks, replied: "For your humanity, bravesir, shown this night to a friendless woman, I must be ever grateful;but not even to the hermit may I reveal my name. It is fraught withdanger to every honest Scot who should know that he protects one whobears it; and therefore, least of all, noble stranger, would I breatheit to you." She averted her face, to conceal the emotions she couldnot subdue.
The knight looked at her intensely, and profoundly sighed. Half herunbraided locks lay upon her bosom, which now heaved with suppressedfeelings; and the fast-falling tears, gliding through her longeyelashes dropped upon his hand; he sighed again, and tore his eyesfrom her countenance. "I ask not, madam, to know what you think properto conceal; but danger has no alarms for me, when, by incurring it, Iserve those who need a protector."
A sudden thought flashed across her mind; might it not be possible thatthis tender guardian of her safety, this heroic profferer of service,was the noble Wallace? But the vain idea fled. He was pent up amidstthe beleaguered defiles of Cartland Craigs, sworn to extricate thehelpless families of his followers, or to perish with them. Thisknight was accompanied by none but men; and his kind eyes shone in tooserene a luster to be the mirrors of the disturbed soul of thesuffering chief of Ellerslie. "Ah! then," murmured she to herself,"are there two men in Scotland who will speak thus?" She looked up inhis face. The plumes of his bonnet shaded his features; but she sawthey were paler than on his entrance, and a strange expression ofdistraction agitated their before composed lines. His eyes were bentto the ground as he proceeded:
"I am the servant of my fellow-creatures--command me and my fewfaithful followers; and if it be in the power of such small means tosuccor you or yours, I am ready to answer for their obedience. If thevillain from whom I had the happiness to release you be yet more deeplyimplicated in your sorrows, tell me how they can be relieved, and Iwill attempt it. I shall make no new enemies by the deed, for theSouthrons and I are at eternal enmity."
Helen could not withdraw her eyes from his varying countenance, which,from underneath his dark plumes, seemed like a portentous cloud, atintervals to emit the rays of the cheering sun, or the lightning ofthreatening thunder. "Alas!" replied she, "ill should I repay suchnobleness were I to involve it in the calamities of my house. No,generous stranger, I must remain unknown. Leave me with the hermit;and from his cell I will send to some relation to take me thence."
"I urge you no more, gentle lady," replied the knight, rising; "were Iat the head of an army, instead of a handful of men, I might then havea better argument for offering my services; but as it is, I feel myweakness, and seek to know no further."
Helen trembled with unaccountable emotion. "Were you at the head of anarmy, I might then dare to reveal the full weight of my anxieties; butHeaven has already been sufficiently gracious to me by your hands, inredeeming me from my cruelest enemy; and for the rest, I put my trustin the same overruling Providence." At this moment a man entered andtold the knight the vehicle was finished, the morning fine, and his menready to march. He turned toward Helen: "May I conduct you to the rudecarriage we have prepared?"
Helen gathered her mantle about her; and the knight, throwing his scarfover her head--it had no other covering--she gave him her hand, and heled her out on the hut to the side of the bier. It was overlaid withthe men's plaids. The knight placed her on it; and the carriersraising it on their shoulders, her deliverer led the way, and they tooktheir course down the mountain.
