by John Buchan
CHAPTER I
I HEAR NO GOOD IN THE INN AT THE FORDS O' CLYDE
For a second I was so filled with despair at Master Veitch's news thatmy mind was the veriest blank and I could get no thought save thatbitterest of all--that my lady was gone. But with a great effort Ibraced myself to action.
"And what of my servant Nicol?" I asked, and waited breathlessly for theanswer.
"Oh, he was away on the hills seeking ye, Master Burnet. When he got noword Marjory was in sic a terror that nothing would suffice her but thathe maun off to Tweeddale and seek every heather-buss for word of ye. Hehadna been gone twae days when half-a-dozen men, or maybe more, came wi'horse and a' and a letter frae you yoursel, seekin' the lass. They saidthat a' was peaceably settled now, and that you had sent them to fetchher to meet you at Lanerick. I hadna a thocht but that it was a' richtand neither had the lass, for she was blithe to gang. Next day, thatwas yestreen, here comes your servant Nicol wi' a face as red as asodger's coat, and when he finds Marjory gone he sits down wi' his heidatween his hands and spak never a word to any man. Then aboot thedarkening he gets up and eats a dinner as though he hadna seen meat fora twal'month. Then off he gangs, and tells na a soul where he wasgaun." The old man had lost all his fine bearing and correct speech,and stood by the door shivering with age and anxiety.
A whirlwind of thoughts passed through my mind. Now that the old orderwas at end, Gilbert's power had gone with it, and he was likely to findit go hard with him soon. There was but one refuge for him--in his ownlands in the west, where, in his great house of Eaglesham or his towndwelling in Glasgow, he might find harborage; for the very fact thatthey were in the stronghold of the Whigs made them the more secure.Thither he must have gone if he had any remnant of wit, and thither hehad taken my lady. And with the thought my whole nature was steeled intoone fierce resolve to follow him and call him to bitter account. Myfirst fit of rage had left me, and a more deadly feeling had taken itsplace. This earth was too narrow a place for my cousin and me to livein, and somewhere in these Westlands I would meet him and settleaccounts once and for all. It was not anger I felt, I give you my word.Nay, it was a sense of some impelling fate behind driving me forward tomeet this mm, who had crossed me so often. The torments of baffled loveand frustrated ambition were all sunk in this one irresistible impulse.
I clambered on my horse once more, and a strange sight I must haveseemed to the gaping servants and their astonished master.
"I am off on the quest," I cried, "but I will give you one word of newsere I go. The king has fled the land, and the Dutch William goes to thethrone." And I turned and galloped down the avenue, leaving a throng ofpale faces staring after my horse's tail.
Once on the road I lashed my animal into a mad gallop. Some devilseemed to have possessed me. I had oft thought fondly in the past thatmy nature was not such as the wild cavaliers whom I had seen, but morethat of the calm and reasonable philosopher. Now I laughed bitterly atthese vain imaginings. For when a man's heart is stirred to its bottomwith love or hatred all surface graces are stripped from it and the oldprimeval passions sway him, which swayed his father before him. Butwith all my heat I felt a new coolness and self-possession. A desperatecalm held me. In a little all things would be settled, for this was thefinal strife, from which one or other of the combatants would neverreturn.
The dull November eve came on me ere I reached the Clyde. 'Twas novantage to ford the stream, so I rode down the left bank among the damphaughs and great sedgy pools. In a little I had come to the awful gorgewhere the water foams over many linns and the roar of the place is likethe guns of an army. Here I left the stream side and struck into thecountry, whence I returned again nearly opposite the town of Lanark, atthe broad, shallow place in the river, which folk call the Fords o'Clyde.
Here there is a clachan of houses jumbled together in a crinkle of thehill, where the way from the Ayrshire moors to the capital comes down tothe bank. Here there was an inn, an indifferent place, but quiet andlittle frequented; and since there was little to be got by going furtherI resolved to pass the night in the house. So I rode down the unevenway to where I saw the light brightest, and found the hostel by aswinging lamp over the door. So giving my horse to a stableman, withmany strict injunctions as to his treatment, I entered the low doorwayand found my way to the inn parlour.
From the place came a great racket of mirth, and as I opened the door aglass struck against the top and was shivered to pieces. Inside, aroundthe long table, sat a round dozen of dragoons making merry after theirboisterous fashion. One would have guessed little indeed from theirfaces that their occupation was gone, for they birled at the wine as ifthe times were twenty years back and King Charles (whom God rest) justcome anew to his throne.
I had never seen the soldiers before, but I made a guess that they weredisbanded men of my cousin's company, both from their air of exceedingbraggadocio which clung to all who had any relation to Gilbert Burnet,and also since there were no soldiers in this special part of the Clydedale save his. I was in no temper for such a racket, and had there beenanother room in the house I should have sought it; but the inn was smalland little frequented, and the accommodation narrow at the best.However, I must needs make the most of it, so shutting the door behind Isought a retired corner seat. I was still worn with my exertions ofyesterday and weary with long riding, so I was blithe to get my limbs atrest.
But it was clear that three-fourths of the company were in the laststate of drunkenness, and since men in liquor can never let well alone,they must needs begin to meddle with me.
"Gidden," said one, "what kind o' gentleman hae we here? I havena seensic a fellow sin' yon steeple-jaick at Brochtoun Fair. D'ye think hewad be willin' to gie us a bit entertainment?"
Now you must remember that I still wore my suit of torn and dirtycrimson, and with my stained face and long hair I must have cut a rarefigure.
But had the thing gone no further than words I should never have stirreda finger in the matter, for when a man's energies are all bent upon somegreat quarrel, he has little stomach for lesser bickerings. But now onearose in a drunken frolic, staggered over to where I sat, and plucked merudely by the arm. "Come ower," he said, "my man, and let'sh see yedance the 'Nancy kilt her Coats.' You see here twelve honest sodgerswhae will gie ye a penny a piece for the ploy."
"Keep your hands off," I said brusquely, "and hold your tongue. 'Twillbe you that will do the dancing soon at the end of a tow on the castlehill, when King William plays the fiddle. You'll be brisker lads then."
"What," said he in a second, with drunken gravity. "Do I hear youshpeak treason against his majesty King James? Dod, I'll learn yebetter." And he tugged at his sword, but being unable in his presentstate to draw it with comfort, he struck me a hard thwack over theshoulder, scabbard and all.
In a moment I was ablaze with passion. I flung myself on the fellow,and with one buffet sent him rolling below the table. Then I wasashamed for myself, for a drunken man is no more fit for an honest blowthan a babe or a woman.
But there was no time for shame or aught save action. Three men--theonly three who were able to understand the turn of affairs--rose totheir feet in a trice, and with drawn swords came towards me. The otherssat stupidly staring, save two who had fallen asleep and rolled fromtheir seats.
I picked up my chair, which was broad and heavy and of excellent stoutoak, and held it before me like a shield. I received the first man'sawkward lunge full on it, and, thrusting it forward, struck him fairabove the elbow, while his blade fell with a clatter on the floor.Meantime the others were attacking me to the best of their power, andthough they were singly feeble, yet in their very folly they were moredangerous than a mettlesome opponent, who will keep always in front andobserve well the rules of the game. Indeed, it might have gone hard withme had not the door been flung violently open and the landlord entered,wringing his hands and beseeching, and close at his heels ano
ther man,very tall and thin and dark. At the sight of this second my heart gavea great bound and I cried aloud in delight. For it was my servantNicol.
In less time than it takes to write it we had disarmed the drunkenruffians and reduced them to order. And, indeed, the task was not a hardone, for they were a vast deal more eager to sleep than to fight, andsoon sank to their fitting places on the floor. Forbye they may havehad some gleam of sense, and seen how perilous was their conduct in thepresent regiment of affairs. Then Nicol, who was an old acquaintance ofthe host's, led me to another room in the back of the house, where wewere left in peace; and sitting by the fire told one another somefragment of our tales.
And first for his own, for I would speak not a word till he had told meall there was to tell. He had had much ado to get to Caerdon, for thehills were thick with the military, and at that wild season of the yearthere is little cover. When he found no letter he set off for thehiding-place above Scrape, where he knew I had been, and found itdeserted. Thence he had shaped his way again to Smitwood with infinitelabour and told Marjory the fruit of his errand. At this her grief hadbeen so excessive that nothing would content her but that he must be offagain and learn by hook or crook some word of my whereabouts. So beganhis wanderings among the hills, often attended with danger and alwayswith hardship, but no trace of me could he find. At last, somewhereabout the Moffat Water, he had forgathered with a single tinker whom hehad once befriended in the old days when he had yet power to help. Fromthis man he had learned that the Baillies had with them one whom he didnot know for certain, but shrewdly guessed as the laird of Barns. Withall speed he had set off on this new quest and followed me in my journeyright to the moss of Biggar. Here all signs of the band came to an end,for most of the folk of the place knew naught of the airt of the gipsyflight, and such as knew were loth to tell, being little in a mood toincur the Baillies' wrath. So naught was left for him but to return tothe place whence he had started. Here he was met with the bitter newsthat I have already set down. He was thrown into a state of utterdespondency, and sat for long in a fine confusion of mind. Then he fellto reasoning. There was no place whither Gilbert could take a womansave his own house of Eaglesham, for Dawyck and Barns were too near thehills and myself. You must remember that at this time my servant had noinkling of the momentous event which had set our positions upside down.Now, if they took her to the west they would do so with all speed; theyhad but one day's start; he might yet overtake them, and try if his witscould find no way out of the difficulty.
So off he set and came to this inn of the Clyde fords, and then he heardthat on the evening before such a cavalcade had passed as he sought.But he learned something more the next morn; namely, that my cousin'spower was wholly broken and that now I was freed from all suspicion ofdanger. Once more he fell into a confusion, but the one thing clear wasthat he must find me at all costs. He had heard of me last at the townof Biggar not fifteen miles off; when I heard the great news he guessedthat I would ride straight for Smitwood; I would hear the tidings thatthe folk there had to tell, and, if he knew aught of me, I would ridestraight, as he had done, on the track of the fugitives. So he turnedback to the inn, and abode there awaiting me, and, lo! at nightfall Ihad come.
Then for long we spoke of my own wanderings, and I told him many talesof my doings and sufferings up hill and down dale, as did Ulysses to theIthacan swineherd. But ere long we fell to discussing that far moremomentous task which lay before us. It behooved us to be up and doing,for I had a horrid fear at my heart that my cousin might seek to reachthe western seacoast and escape to France or Ireland, and thus sorelyhinder my meeting with my love. I had no fear but that I shouldovertake him sooner or later, for fate had driven that lesson deep intomy heart, and to myself I said that it was but a matter of days, orweeks, or maybe years, but not of failure. I was for posting on even atthat late hour, but Nicol would have none of it.
"Look at your face i' the gless, sir," said he, "and tell me if ye looklike muckle mair ridin' the day. Ye're fair forwandered wi' wearinessand want o' sleep. And what for wad ye keep thae queer-like claes?I'll get ye a new suit frae the landlord, decent man, and mak ye mairpresentable for gaun intil the Wast."
I looked as he bade me in the low mirror, and saw my dark face, andwind-tossed hair, and my clothes of flaming crimson. Something in theodd contrast struck my fancy.
"Nay," I said, grimly, "I will bide as I am. I am going on a grimerrand and I will not lay aside these rags till I have done that which Iwent for to do."
"Weel, weel, please yersel'," said my servant, jauntily, and he turnedaway, whistling and smiling to himself.
