go for it, I tell thee.--It would go the moment they should return and
find that thou hadst escaped. They may be already near at hand, too,
if I mistake not the time of evening. Therefore, teaze me no more,
I pray thee."
"Spirits of mine ancestors, give me strength and boldness!" cried the
Lady Catherine, starting up energetically, after a moment's pause,
during which she seemed to have taken her resolution, and assuming
a commanding attitude and air as she spoke.--"Let me pass, young
man!--give me way, I say!--or I will struggle with thee to the death,
but I will force a passage!"
"I have a sharp argument against that," said the youth, drawing his
dirk, and planting himself in the gap before her.--"Stand back!--or
thou shalt have every inch of its blade."
"Out of the way, vermin!" cried Patrick Stewart, no longer able to
contain his rage, and dashing down the youth before him as he entered.
"Patrick!--my dear Patrick!" cried the Lady Catherine, flying into
his arms with a scream of joy.
"My dearest, dearest Catherine!" said Patrick, fondly--"this is indeed
to be rewarded!--Wretch!" cried he, grappling the youth by the throat,
and putting the point of his dirk to his breast, as he was in the act
of rising from the ground, apparently with the intention of making
his escape--"Wretch! our safety requires thy death."
"Oh, do not kill me, good Sir Knight!" cried the terrified youth
piteously, and with a countenance as pale as a corpse.
"Spare him!--spare him!" cried Catherine,--"his worthless life is
unworthy of thy blade."
"Oh, mercy, mercy!" cried the youth again.--"Spare me!--spare me!--oh,
do not kill me!"
"If I did kill thee, it would be no more than what thou hast well
merited," said Patrick.--"But, as thou sayest, Catherine, my love,
such worthless blood should never wantonly soil the steel of a brave
man; and if I could but make him secure by any other means, I should
be better contented."
"Bind me, if thou wilt, Sir Knight; but, oh, do not!--do not kill
me!" cried the youth.
"Well then, I will spare thy life, though I half question the wisdom
of so doing," said Patrick.
Casting his eyes around the cave, he espied some ropes lying in a
dark corner. Catherine flew and brought them to him. He seized them,
and quickly bound the youth neck and heel, in such a manner as to make
it quite impossible for him to move body or limb, and then, lifting
him in his arms, he groped his way with him into the farther end of
one of those dark recesses that branched off from the main cavern,
and there he deposited him.
"Now, let us fly, my love!" cried he, hastily returning to the Lady
Catherine. "Every moment we tarry here is fraught with danger.--Follow
me quickly!--I grieve to think of the fatigue you must undergo. But
cheer up, and trust for your defence, from all danger, to this good
arm of mine. Above all things, be silent."
"With thee as my protector I am strong and bold," said
Catherine. "Thanks be to the Virgin for this deliverance!"
Patrick now led the Lady Catherine forth into the open air. But
before he ventured to proceed, he listened for a moment to ascertain
that there was no one near. To his great horror, and to the lady's
death-like alarm, they distinctly heard a footstep slowly and
cautiously approaching. Pushing Catherine gently behind the dark mass
of stone at the entrance, he placed himself before her in the shadow,
that, whilst concealed by it himself, he might have a perfect view of
whosoever came, the moment the person should advance into the light,
that was reflected on the wall-like side of the rocky mass opposite to
him, and fell on the ground for a little space beyond it. He listened,
with attention so breathless, that he seemed to hear every beat of his
own heart, as well as of that of his trembling companion. The footstep
was that of one person only, and he felt as if his resolution was
quite equal to an encounter with a dozen; but he knew not how many
might be following, and he was fully conscious of the importance,
as regarded the lady, of avoiding a conflict, unless rendered
indispensable by circumstances. The step came on, falling gently,
at intervals of several moments, as if the individual who approached
was unwilling to make the least unnecessary noise. The dim figure
of a man at length appeared, under the arched boughs of the fallen
pine tree. He advanced, step by step, with increased caution. A dirk
blade, which he held forward in his outstretched hand, first caught the
stream of reflected light that came from the mouth of the cavern. The
next step that the figure took brought his face under its influence;
and, to the great relief of Patrick Stewart, displayed the features of
Michael Forbes. Patrick gave a low whistle. Michael had at that moment
stopped to listen, with a strange expression of dread and horror, to
the complaints of the youth who was bound in the innermost recesses of
the cavern, whence they came, reduced by its sinuosities, into a low
wild moaning sound, that had something supernatural in it, so as to be
quite enough to appal any superstitious mind. The whistle startled him.
"Michael!" said Patrick in a low tone of voice, "why did'st thou
desert thy post?"
"Holy virgin, is that you, Sir Knight?" said Michael, in a voice
which seemed to convey a doubt whether he was not holding converse
with a spirit.
"What could make you desert your post?" demanded Patrick, angrily,
and at the same time showing himself.
"Holy saints, I am glad that it is really you, Sir Knight," replied
Michael. "I crave your pardon, but your long delay led me to fear
that something had befallen you, and that you might lack mine aid."
"Had an accident befallen me, Michael," said Patrick, "thine aid,
I fear, would have been of little avail. But we have lost much time
by this thy neglect of mine orders. Quick! let us lose no more,
and give me thy best help to aid thy mistress, the Lady Catherine."
"The Virgin be praised!" exclaimed Michael, as Catherine appeared;
"then the lady is safe!"
"But so for only," replied Patrick Stewart. "We have yet much peril
to encounter; but our perils are increased every precious moment
that we loiter here. Get thee on quickly before us to the top of the
path where it quits the ravine,--the spot, I mean, where I left thee,
and see that you be sure to give me good warning, shouldst thou see
or hear any thing to cause alarm."
Michael obeyed; and Patrick, having led Catherine out from under
the boughs of the fallen pine, began to assist her in ascending the
path. He had some difficulty in dragging her up the wild-cat's ladder
that scaled the side of the cliff; but, by the assistance of his
strongly nerved arm, she reached the summit without danger. She then
forced her way through the narrow passage in the brushwood that grew
over the top of the crags, until she had at length the satisfaction
of being able to stand erect, to receive the cooling mountain breeze
on her flushed cheek and throbbing temples. But this was no place
for them to rest. Patrick whistled softly, and Michael appeared.
"Catherine, my love," said he, "this is no time for ceremony. Give
one arm to Michael, and put the other firmly into mine--so. Now take
the best care you can of your footing, and lean well upon me as we go
down the mountain side. Oh, how I long to talk to thee! But, dearest,
we must be silent as death, for we know not whom we may meet."
After a long, rough, and slippery descent, they came at length into
a narrow glen, where the trees grew taller and farther apart from
each other. This was so far fortunate for them; for as the shadows
of night became deeper here than they had been on the mountain side,
they were compelled to move slower; and it required all the care of
the Lady Catherine's supporters, to save her from the injuries she
might have sustained from the numerous fallen branches, and other
obstacles lying in their way.
They had nearly reached the lower extremity of this lesser tributary
glen, where it discharged a small rill into the wider glen and stream
of the Aven, when Patrick Stewart suddenly halted.
"Stop!" cried he; "I hear voices on the breeze, and they come this way
too. We must up the bank, Michael. Courage, my dearest Catherine! let
me help thee to climb. Trust me love, thou hast nothing to fear."
"I fear nothing whilst thou art by my side," replied Catherine,
exerting herself to the utmost.
"Now," said Patrick, after they had half carried her some
thirty or forty paces up the steep slope; "we have time to go no
farther. Hark! they come! Stretch thyself at length among this
long heather, Catherine, and let me throw my plaid over thee. Nay,
now I think on't, Michael's green one is better, the red of mine
might be more visible. There; that will do. Now, Michael, draw thy
good claymore, as I do mine. Here are two thick trunks which stand
well placed in front of us. Do thou take thy stand behind that one,
whilst I post myself behind this, so that both of us may be between
the lady and danger. They cannot come at her but by passing between
us. And if they do! But see that thou dost not strike till I give
thee the word. Hush! they come!"
They had hardly thus disposed of themselves, when the voices drew
nearer, and the dusky figures were obscurely seen moving up the bottom
of the little glen. They came loitering on, one after another, in
what we of the army used to call Indian files,--man following man
along the track, where they knew that the footing was likely to be
the best. This plan of march necessarily made them longer of passing
by, but it relieved those who were lurking in the bank above from any
great fear of being discovered by any stray straggler. Two individuals
of the party, who had probably some sort of command over the rest,
were considerably in advance. These lingered on their way, and halted
more than once to give time for those that followed to come up, so
that Patrick Stewart caught a sentence or two of the conversation
that fell from them.
"He must be as cunning as the devil," said one of them to the other,
in Gaelic.
"Thou knowest that she has not yet seen his face," replied the other;
"so that, when he comes to act the part of her deliverer, she will
never suspect that it was to him she was indebted for her unwilling
travel last night, and her present confinement. And then, you see, he
thinks, in this way, to make his own, both of her and her old father,
by his pretended gallantry in rescuing her from----"
Patrick Stewart in vain stretched his ears to catch more, for on came
the rest in closer lines, gabbling together so loudly about trifles,
and with voices so commingled, that it was not possible to gather
the least sense out of their talk. These all passed onwards; and, a
little way behind them, came four other men, who walked very slowly,
and stopped occasionally to converse in Gaelic, like people, who
were so travel-worn, that they were not sorry to halt now and then,
and to rest against a tree for a few moments.
"What made Grigor Beg stop behind Allister?" demanded one.
"Hoo! you may well guess it was nothing but his old trick," replied
the other. "The boddoch would have fain had me to tarry for him, that
I might help him, by carrying a part of what load he might get. But
I was no such fool. My shoulders ache enough already with carrying
the rough rungs of that accursed litter last night, to let me wish
for any new burden."
"If thou hadst not been carrying the bonny lassie for another's
pleasure, methinks you would maybe have thought less of it," said a
third man.
Whilst attentively listening to this dialogue, Patrick Stewart
observed some ill-defined object, coming stealing up the slope of
the bank, in a diagonal line, from the place a little way down the
glen, where the four men had halted. It came on noiselessly, but
steadily pointing towards the spot where Catherine lay. It stopped,
and uttered a short bark, and Patrick now saw that it was a large,
rough, Highland wolf-dog. Again, with its long snout directed towards
the plaid that covered Catherine, it barked and snarled.
"Dermot, boy!--Dermot!"--cried one of the men from the hollow
below.--"What hast thou got there?"
As if encouraged by its master's voice, the animal barked and
snarled again yet more eagerly, and seemed to be on the very eve of
springing upon the plaid. The blade of Patrick Stewart's claymore
made one swift circuit in the air, and, descending like a flash of
lightning on the neck of the creature, his head and his body rolled
asunder into different parts of the heather, and again Patrick took
his silent but determined stand behind the tree.
"Dermot!--Dermot, boy!"--cried the man again from below.--"What think
ye is the beast at, lads?"
"Some foulmart or badger it may be," replied another.
"Can'st thou not go up and see, man?" said a third.
"Go thyself, my good man," said the dog's master.--"I am fond enough
of the dog--aye, and, for that part, I am fond enough of travel too,
but I am content with my share of fagg for this day without going up
the brae there to seek for more. A man may e'en have his serving of
the best haggis that ever came out of a pot. Trust me, I am for going
no foot to-night beyond what I can help.--Dermot--Dermot, boy!--See
ye any thing of him at all, lads?"
"The last sight that I had of him at all, was near yon dark looking
hillock, a good way up the bank yonder," said another man.
"I'm thinking that the brute has winded a passing roebuck," said the
fourth man, "I thought I saw something like a glimmer just against
the light cloud yonder above, as if it had been the dog darting over
the height, the very moment after the last bark he gave."
"Dermot! whif-hoo-if!" cried the dog's master, and, at the same time,
whistling shrilly upon his fingers. "Tut! the fiend catch him for
me! let him go! I'll be bound that he'll be home before us."
"Come, then, let's on!" said another, "I wonder much that Grigor Beg
hath not come up with us ere this."
"Hulloah, Grigor!" shouted one of them. "No, no, we'll not see him
so soon, I'll warrant ye."
"Come! come away, lads!" said another, moving on with the rest
following him. "I'll be bound that the boddoch hath got a swingeing
load upon his back."
"Awell!" said one of the first speakers, "rather him than me. But we
shan't be the worse of it when it's well broiled, for all that. I'm
sure I wish I had a bit of it at this moment, for I'm famishing. I'm
dead tired to-night; I hope that we may have some rest to-morrow. Know
ye aught that is to do?"
"I heard the Captain say that"----but the rest of the dialogue was
cut off by the distance which the men had by this time reached.
"Thanks be to St. Peter, they are gone at last!" said
Patrick Stewart. "How my fingers itched to have a cut at the
villains.--Catherine," continued he, lifting the plaid, and assisting
her to rise, "art thou not half dead with terror? But courage, my
love. There lies the murderous four-footed savage, whose fell fangs
had so nearly been busied with the plaid that covered thee. If we may
trust to what we have just heard, there is but one man to come; and,
judging by the name of Beg [3] which they gave him, he ought to be no
very formidable person. Michael, get thee on a few steps in front, and
keep a good look out for him. Were we but out of this narrow place,
and fairly into the wider glen of the Aven, we should have less to
fear, and then we shall find means to carry thee."
"Thanks to the Virgin, I am yet strong," said Catherine. "Let us fly,
then, with all speed."
A farther walk, of a few minutes only, brought them into Glen Aven,
and they pursued its downward course, for a considerable length of way,
until Patrick Stewart began to perceive something like fatigue in the
Lady Catherine's step. He therefore halted, and made her sit down to
rest a while. In the mean time, he and Michael Forbes contrived to hew
down two small sapling fir trees, by the aid of their good claymores,
and having tied their plaids between them, they, in this manner,
very speedily constructed a tolerably easy litter for the lady to
recline at length in. This they carried between them, by resting
the ends of the poles upon their shoulders, Patrick making Michael
Forbes go foremost, and reserving the place behind for himself. I need
hardly tell you that the Stewart especially selected that position,
for the obvious reason that he might be thereby enabled to cheer the
Lady Catherine's spirits, and to lighten her fatigues, by now and then
addressing a word or two of comfort to her as they went. In this manner
they pursued their way down the glen, until the loud roar of many
waters informed them that they were approaching the grand waterfall,
called the Lynn of Aven. You will have ample opportunity of becoming
intimately acquainted with all the details of this fine scene,
gentlemen, as you go up the glen to-morrow. But in the meanwhile,
I may tell you generally, that the whole of this large river, there
precipitates itself headlong, through a comparatively narrow chasm
in the rocks, into a long, wide, and extremely deep pool below.
The sound increased as the bearers of the litter drew nearer to
the waterfall, and the rocky and confined passage, over which they
had to make their way, compelled them to walk at greater leisure,
and to select their footing with more caution. Fortunately they had
now the advantage of the moon, which had been for some time shining
favourably upon them, and they were already within a very few steps
of coming immediately over the waterfall, when they were suddenly
alarmed by a fearful and most unearthly shriek. It came apparently
from the very midst of the descending column of water below them.
"Holy Virgin Mother!" cried Michael Forbes, halting, and backing like
a restive horse, so unexpectedly, that the ends of the poles were
nearly jerked from Patrick Stewart's shoulders, by the shock which
was thus communicated to them. "Holy Mother, didst thou not hear that,
Sir Knight?"
"I did hear something," said Stewart, not quite willing to increase
that dread which he perceived was already quite sufficiently excited in
his companion, and of which he could not altogether divest himself. "I
did fancy that I heard something. But for the love of the Virgin
take care what thou dost. Thou hadst almost shaken the poles from my
shoulders by thy sudden start.--Come! proceed man!"
Again, a louder, and more appalling shriek arose from the midst of
the cataract, piercing their ears above all the roaring of its thunder.
"For the love of all the saints, let us turn back, Sir Knight!" cried
Michael. "It is the water-kelpie himself!"
"Nay," said Patrick Stewart; "back we may not go, without the risk
of falling again into the very jaws of the Catteranes. They are no
doubt hard on foot after us by this time.--Forward then, and fear not!"
Again came the wild shriek, if possible louder and more terrible
than before.
"For the love of God, Sir Knight, back!" cried Michael, now losing
all command of himself, and forcing the litter so backwards upon
Patrick Stewart, as to compel him, from the narrowness of the rocky
shelf where they then stood, to retreat in a corresponding degree,
to avoid the certain alternative of being precipitated over the giddy
ledge into the boiling stream of the Aven. "For the love of God, back,
I say! were it but for a few paces, till we have leisure to lay down
our burden, and cross ourselves."
"Merciful saints! what will become of us?" cried the Lady Catherine,
in great alarm.
"Now," said Patrick Stewart, after yielding a few steps, "now, we
may surely halt here till thy courage return to thee, Michael. What
a fiend hath so unmanned thee to-night? I thought thou hadst been
brave as a lion."
"A fiend indeed, Sir Knight," replied Michael, as they were laying down
the litter; "I trust that I lack not courage, at any time, to face any
mortal foe that ever came before me. But," added he, eagerly crossing
himself, "to meet with the devil thus in one's very path!--Good angels
be about us, heard ye not that scream again? Have mercy upon us all!"
"There is something very strange in this," said Patrick Stewart. "But
this will never do. We cannot tarry here long without the certainty
of being overtaken by the whole body of the Catteranes. By this time
they must be well on their way in pursuit of us."
"Holy Virgin! what will become of us if we should fall into their
hands?" cried the Lady Catherine, in an agony of distress.
"Fear not, my love!" said Patrick Stewart; "I will forthwith fathom
this mystery. I will see whence these horrible screams proceed."
"Nay, Sir Patrick, tempt not thy fate," cried Michael. "If thou dost,
thou goest to thy certain destruction."
"Oh stir not, dear Patrick!" cried the Lady Catherine, starting up
from the litter, and endeavouring to detain him. "Do not attempt so
great, so dreadful a danger."
"Catherine, my dearest!" said Patrick, fondly taking her hands in his;
"listen to reason, I entreat thee. The danger that presses on us from
behind is imminent, and more than what two swords, good as they may
be, could by any means save thee from. And since God hath given us
strength to flee from it, he will not forsake me in a conflict with
the powers of hell, should they stand in my way. I go forward in his
holy name, then; have no fear for me therefore. Rest thine arm upon
Michael, dearest--tell thy beads, and may the blessed Virgin hover
over thee to protect thee! As for you, Michael, draw your claymore,
and stir not a step from the lady till I call thee."
Patrick Stewart now crossed himself, and then strode, slowly and
resolutely, along the narrow ledge of rock towards the roaring lynn,
repeating a paternoster as he went. The moon was by this time high
in the heavens, and its beams produced a faint tinge of the rainbow's
hues, as they played among the mists that arose from the waterfall. The
shrieks that came from below were now loud and incessant, and might
have quailed the stoutest heart. But still Patrick advanced firmly,
till he stood upon a shelving rock, forming the very verge of the
roaring cataract, whence he could throw his eyes directly downwards,
through the shooting foam, into the abyss below. Far down, in the
midst of the rising vapour, and apparently suspended in it, close
by the edge of the descending column of water, he could distinguish
a dark object. New and more piercing screams arose from it. He bent
forward, and looked yet more intently. To his no inconsiderable dismay,
he beheld a fearful head rear itself, as it were from out of it; the
long hair by which it was covered, and the immense beard that flowed
from the chin, hanging down, drenched by the surrounding moisture,
and the eyes glaring fearfully in the moonlight, whilst the terrific
screams were inconceivably augmented. Appalled as he was by this most
unaccountable apparition, Patrick was shifting his position, in order
to lean yet more forward, that he might the better contemplate it,
when the toe of his sandal grazed against something that had nearly
destroyed his equilibrium, and sent him headlong over the rock. Having,
with some difficulty, recovered himself, he stooped down to ascertain
what had tripped him, when he found, to his surprise, that it was a
rope. He now remembered, that the feudal tenant of the neighbouring
ground, who owed service to his father, Sir Allan, was accustomed
to hang a conical creel, or large rude basket, by the edge of the
fall, for the purpose of catching the salmon that fell into it,
after failing in their vain attempts to leap up.
"Ho, there!" cried Patrick Stewart, in that voice of thunder, which
he required to exert in order to overcome the continuous roar of
the cataract.
"Oh, help! help! help!" cried the fearful head from below.
"Man or demon, I will see what thou art!" cried Patrick, stooping down
to lay hold of the rope, with the intention of making an attempt to
pull up the creel.
"For the love of Saint Andrew, lay not a hand on the rope, Sir
Knight, as thou may'st value thy life!" said Michael Forbes, who,
having heard Patrick's loud shout, had been hurried off to his aid
by the fears and the commands of the Lady Catherine.
"Why hast thou left the lady, caitiff?" demanded Patrick Stewart,
angrily. "Did I not tell thee to stay with her till I should call
thee?"