by John Buchan
CHAPTER XV
THE BAILLIES OF NO MAN'S LAND
The next period in my life lies still in my mind like a dream. I have aremembrance of awaking and an impression of light, and strange faces,and then all was dark again. Of those days my memory is a blank; thereis nothing but a medley of sickness and weariness, light and blackness,and the wild phantoms of a sick man's visions.
When I first awoke to clear consciousness, it was towards evening in awild glen just below the Devil's Beef Tub at the head of the Annan. Ihad no knowledge where I was. All that I saw was a crowd of men andwomen around me, a fire burning and a great pot hissing thereon. Allthat I heard was a babel of every noise, from the discordant cries ofmen to the yelping of a pack of curs. I was lying on a very soft couchmade of skins and cloaks in the shade of a little roughly-made tent.Beyond I could see the bare hillsides rising shoulder on shoulder, andthe sting of air on my cheek told me that it was freezing hard. But Iwas not cold, for the roaring fire made the place warm as a baker'soven.
I lay still and wondered, casting my mind over all the events of thepast that I could remember. I was still giddy in the head, and theeffort made me close my eyes with weariness. Try as I would I couldthink of nothing beyond my parting from Marjory at Smitwood. All theevents of my wanderings for the moment had gone from my mind.
By and by I grew a little stronger, and bit by bit the thing returned tome. I remembered with great vividness the weary incidents of my flight,even up to its end and my final sinking. But still the matter was noclearer. I had been rescued, it was plain, but by whom, when, where,why? I lay and puzzled over the thing with a curious mixture ofindifference and interest.
Suddenly a face looked in upon me, and a loud strident voice cried outin a tongue which I scarce fully understood. The purport of its wordswas that the sick man was awake and looking about him. In a minute thebabel was stilled, and I heard a woman's voice giving orders. Then someone came to me with a basin of soup.
"Drink, lad," said she; "ye've had a geyan close escape but a' is richtwi' ye noo. Tak this and see how ye feel."
The woman was tall and squarely built like a man; indeed, I cannot thinkthat she was under six feet. Her face struck me with astonishment, for Ihad seen no woman for many a day since Marjory's fair face, and theharsh commanding features of my nurse seemed doubly strange. For dressshe wore a black hat tied down over her ears with a 'kerchief, andknotted in gipsy fashion beneath her chin. Her gown was of somedark-blue camlet cloth, and so short that it scarce reached her knees,though whether this fashion was meant for expedition in movement ormerely for display of gaudy stockings, I know not. Certainly herstockings were monstrously fine, being of dark blue flowered withscarlet thread, and her shoon were adorned with great buckles of silver.Her outer petticoat was folded so as to make two large pockets on eitherside, and in the bosom of her dress I saw a great clasp-knife.
I drank the soup, which was made of some wild herbs known only to thegipsy folk, and lay back on my couch.
"Now, sleep a wee, lad," said the woman, "and I'll warrant ye'll be asblithe the morn as ever."
I slept for some hours, and when I awoke sure enough I felt mightilystrengthened. It was now eventide and the camp-fire had been madelarger to cook the evening meal. As I looked forth I could see mensquatting around it, broiling each his own piece of meat in the ashes,while several cauldrons sputtered and hissed on the chains. It was awild, bustling sight, and as I lay and watched I was not sorry that Ihad fallen into such hands. For I ever loved to see new things andstrange ways, and now I was like to have my fill.
They brought me supper, a wild duck roasted and coarse home-made bread,and a bottle of very tolerable wine, got I know not whence unless fromthe cellars of some churlish laird. I ate it heartily, for I had fastedlong in my sickness, and now that I was recovered I had much to make up.
Then the woman returned and asked me how I did. I told her, "Well," andthanked her for her care, asking her how I had been rescued and where Iwas. And this was the tale she told me.
She was of the clan of the Baillies, the great gipsies of Tweeddale andClydesdale, offshoots of the house of Lamington, and proud as the devilor John Faa himself. They had been encamped in the little haugh at thefoot of the Wormel on the night of my chase. They had heard a cry, and aman with a face like death had staggered in among them and fainted attheir feet. Captain William Baillie, their leader, of whom more anon,had often been well-entreated at Barns in my father's time, and hadheard of my misfortunes. He made a guess as to who I was and orderedthat I should be well looked after. Meantime the two companies ofsoldiers passed by, suspecting nothing, and not troubling to look forthe object of their search, who all the while was lying senselessbeneath a gipsy tent. When all was safe they looked to my condition,and found that I was in a raging fever with cold and fatigue. Now thegipsies, especially those of our own countryside, are great adepts inmedicine, and they speedily had all remedies applied to me. For threeweeks I lay ill, delirious most of the time, and they bore me with themin a litter in all their wanderings. I have heard of many strangepieces of generosity, but of none more strange than this--to carry withmuch difficulty a helpless stranger over some of the roughest land inScotland, and all for no other motive than sheer kindliness to a housewhich had befriended them of old. With them I travelled over the wilduplands of Eskdale and Ettrick, and with them I now returned to theconfines of Tweeddale.
"The Captain's awa' just noo," added she, "but he'll be back the morn,and blithe he'll be to see ye so weel."
And she left me and I slept again till daybreak.
When I awoke again it was morning, just such a day as the last, frostyand clear and bright. I saw by the bustle that the camp was makingpreparations for starting, and I was so well recovered that I felt fitto join them. I no longer needed to be borne like a child in a litter,but could mount horse and ride with the best of them.
I had risen and gone out to the encampment and was watching the activityof man and beast, when one advanced from the throng toward me. He was avery tall, handsome man, dark in face as a Spaniard, with fine curlingmoustachios. He wore a broad blue bonnet on his head, his coat was ofgood green cloth and his small-clothes of black. At his side he carrieda sword and in his belt a brace of pistols, and save for a certainforeign air in his appearance he seemed as fine a gentleman as one couldsee in the land. He advanced to me and made me a very courtly bow,which I returned as well as my still-aching back permitted me.
"I am glad you are recovered, Master John Burnet," said he, speakingexcellent English, though with the broad accent which is customary toour Scots lowlands. "Permit me to make myself known to you. I have thehonour to be Captain William Baillie at your service, captain of theragged regiment and the Egyptian guards." All this he said with as finean air as if he were His Majesty's first general.
At the mention of his name I called to mind all I had heard of thisextraordinary man, the chief of all the south-country gipsies, and acharacter as famous in those days and in those parts as Claverhouse ormy lord the King. He claimed to be a bastard of the house of Lamington,and through his mother he traced descent, also by the wrong side of theblanket, to the Gay Gordons themselves. Something of his assumedgentrice showed in his air and manner, which was haughty and lofty asany lord's in the land. But in his face, among wild passions andunbridled desires, I read such shrewd kindliness that I found it in myheart to like him. Indeed, while the tales of his crimes are hawked atevery fair, the tales of his many deeds of kindness are remembered inlonely places by folk who have cause to bless the name of Baillie. Thissame captain had indeed the manners of a prince, for when he boughtanything he was wont to give his purse in payment, and indignantlyrefuse to receive change of any kind. It is only fair to add that themoney was not got by honest means, but by the plunder of the rich andchurlish. Yet though his ways were roguish his acts were often mostChristian-like and courteou
s, and there were worse men in higher placesthat this William Baillie. More, he was reputed the best swordsman inall Scotland, though, as being barred from the society of men of birthand education, his marvellous talent was seldom seen. He was of themost indomitable courage and self-possession, and even in the court,when on his trial, he spoke fearlessly to his judges. I do not seek todefend him; but to me and mine he did a good deed and I would seek to begrateful. When long afterwards he was killed in a brawl in the alehouseof Newarthill, I heard the tidings with some sorrow, for he diedbravely, though in an ignoble quarrel.
He now informed me with great civility of the incidents of my escape andsickness. When I thanked him he waved me off with a great air.
"Tut, tut," said he, "that is a small matter between gentlefolk. I haveoften had kindness from your father, and it is only seemly that I shoulddo my best for the son. Besides, it is not in my nature to see a man sosore pressed by the soldiery and not seek to deliver him. It is apredicament I have so often been in myself."
A horse was brought for me, a little wiry animal, well suited for hillsand sure-footed as a goat. When I felt myself in the saddle once again,even though it were but a gipsy hallion, I was glad; for to one who hasscrambled on his own feet for so many days, a horse is something like anearnest of better times. Captain Baillie bade me come with him toanother place, where he showed me a heap of gipsy garments. "It isnecessary," said he, "if you would ride with us that you change yourappearance. One of your figure riding among us would be too kenspeckleto escape folk's notice. You must let me stain your face, too, with thejuice which we make for our bairns' cheeks. It will wash off when youwant it, but till that time it will be as fast as sunburn." So taking acrow's feather and dipping it in a little phial, he with much skillpassed it over my whole face and hands. Then he held a mirror for me tolook, and lo and behold, I was as brown as a gipsy or a Barbary Moor. Ilaughed loud and long at my appearance, and when I was bidden put on along green coat, the neighbour of the captain's, and a pair of stoutuntanned riding-boots, I swear my appearance was as truculent as theroughest tinker's.
Thus accoutred we set out, the men riding in front in pairs and threes,the women behind with donkeys and baggage shelties. It was a queerpicture, for the clothing of all was bright-coloured, and formed astrange contrast with the clear, chilly skies and the dim moor. Therewas no fear of detection, for apart from the company that I was with, mydisguise was so complete that not even the most vigilant dragoon couldspy me out. Our road was that which I had already travelled often to myown great weariness--down Tweed by Rachan and the Mossfennan haughs. Ihad no guess at our destination; so when at Broughton we turned to thewestward and headed through the moss towards the town of Biggar, I wasnot surprised. Nay, I was glad, for it brought me nearer to the westcountry and Smitwood, whither I desired to go with the utmost speed.For with my returning health my sorrows and cares came back to me morefiercely than ever. It could not be that my cousin should find outMarjory's dwelling-place at once, for in the letter there was no clearinformation; only indefinite hints, which in time would bring him there.The hope of my life was to reach the house before him and rescue mylove, though I had no fixed plan in my mind and would have been at asore loss for aid. Nevertheless, I was quieter in spirit, and morehopeful. For, after all, thought I, though Gilbert get my lass, he yethas me to deal with, and I will follow him to the world's end ere I lethim be.
