'Nell Kennedy!' I called as loudly as I dared, 'you are nothing but a
thief, and a mean thief!'
The lass put her head out of the window and looked up at me, so that her
hair hung down and I saw the soft lace ruffle of her night apparel. It
was long and swayed in the wind, being of a golden yellow colour. (The
hair, I am speaking of, not, by'r Lady, the bedgown.)
'Mistress Helen Kennedy from you, sirrah, if you please!' she said.
'What may be the business upon which Squire Launce Spurheel ventures to
address his master's daughter?'
'Besom!' said I, taking no heed of her tauntings; 'thief, grab-all, give
me back my bundle!'
My heart was hot within me, for indeed I had intended to share
everything with her in the morning, if only she would be humble enough
and come with me into the cove. Now, there is nothing more angering than
thus to be baulked on the threshold of a generous action; and, indeed, I
was not given to the doing of any other kind--though often enough
frustrated of my intention by the illsetness of others.
'Thou wast a noble ghost, Spurheel,' she cried, mocking me. 'I heard
thee laughing, brave frightener of girls! Well, I forgive thee, for it
is a good bundle of excellent devices that thou hast carried for me all
the way from the fair at Maybole. Everything that I craved for is here,
saving the brown puggy-monkey wrought with French pastry and with little
black raisins for the eyes which I heard of yesterday!'
'I am glad I ate that by the way,' I said, in order to have some amends
of her; for, indeed, there was no such thing in the fair, at least so
far ar I saw.
'May it give thee twisty thraws and sit ill on thy stomach, Spurheel!'
she cried up at me. For at sixteen she was more careless of her speech
than a herd on the hill when his dogs are not working sweetly.
Nevertheless she spoke as though she had been saying something pleasant
and, by its nature, agreeable to hear.
For I do not deny that the lass was sometimes pleasant-spoken enough--to
others, not to me; and that upon occasion she could demean herself as
became a great lady, which indeed she was. And when no one was by, then
I took no ill tongue from her, but gave as good as I got or maybe a
kenning better.
I could hear her at the window below taking the packages out of the
bundle.
'Ye have good taste in the choice of cakes!' she said, coming to the
window again. 'The sweetmeats are most excellent. The pastry melts in
the mouth.'
As she looked out, she munched one of the well-raised comfits I had
bought for my own eating. At Culzean we had but plain beef and double
ale, but no lack of these. Also puddings, black and white.
'See, it flakes tenderly, being well readied!' she cried up at me,
flipping it with the forefinger of her right hand to show its delicate
lightness. She held the cake, in order to eat it, in the palm of her
left hand.
At which, being angered past enduring, I took up an ornament of wood
which had fallen from the back of an oak chair, and threw it at her.
But she ducked quickly within, so that it went clattering on the rocks
beneath.
She looked out again.
'Ah--um--blundershot!' she said, mocking me with her mouth. 'Remember
you are not shooting at a rantipole cockshy at Maybole fair.'
'Give me my property,' I replied with some dignity and firmness, 'else
in the morning I will surely tell your father.'
'Ay, ay,' cried she, 'even tell him about Maybole fair, and coming home
through the wood with your arm round the waist of bonny Kate Allison,
the Grieve's lass! He will be most happy to hear of that, and of the
other things you have been doing all the night. Also to be thy father
confessor and set thee penance for thy deed!'
'It is a lie!' I said, angry that Nell Kennedy should guess so
discomfortably near to the truth.
'What is a lie, most sweet and pleasant-spoken youth?' she queried, with
a voice like Mistress Pussie's velvet paws.
'The matter you have spoken concerning the Grieve's lass. I care
nothing for girls!'
And I spoke the truth--at the moment--for, indeed, there were things
bypast that I was now sorry for.
She went in and explored further in my bundle, while I stood at the
upper window above and miscalled her over the window sill as loudly as I
dared. Every little while she ran to the window to examine something,
for the light was now coming broad from the east and flooding the sea
even to the far blue mountains of Arran and Cantyre.
'Ribbons--and belts--and hatbands, all broidered with silk!' she cried.
'Was ever such grandeur known in this place of Culzean? They will do
bravely for me, and besides they will save thy back from the hangman and
the cart-tail whip. For thou, Spurheel, art not of the quality to wear
such, but they will do excellently for the pearling and ribboning of a
baron's daughter. Nevertheless, heartily do I applaud your taste in
taffeta, Spurheel, and let that be a comfort to thee.'
'Was there ever such a wench?' I said to myself, stamping my foot in
anger.
Last of all Nell brought to the window the three bottles of Canary wine,
for which I had paid so dear.
'What is this?' she cried, with her head at the side in her masterful
cock-sparrow way. 'What is this? Wine, wine of Canary--rotten water
rather, I warrant, to be sold in a booth at a fair? At any rate, wine
is not good for boys,' she added, 'and such drabbled stuff is not for
the drinking of a lady--wouldst thou like it, Spurheel?'
She ducked in, thinking that I was about to throw something more at
her--which, indeed, I scorned to do, besides having nothing convenient
to my hand.
'Look you, Squire Launce,' she said again, crying from the window
without setting her head out, 'you are something of a marksman, they
say. There never was a nonsuch like our Spurheel--in Spurheel's own
estimation. But I can outmark him. Fix your eye on yon black rock with
the tide just coming over it--one, two, and three--!'
And in a moment one of my precious broad-bellied bottles of wine played
clash on Samson's reef two hundred feet below the White Tower. I was
fairly dancing now with anger, and threatened to come down my rope
ladder to be even with her. Indeed, I made the cord ready to throw
myself out of the window to clamber down. But even as I did so, the
glaiked maiden sent the other two jars of Canary to keep company with
the first.
Then she leaned out and looked up sweetly, holding the sash of the
window meantime in her hand.
'You are going to visit my father in the morning, doubtless, and tell
him all about the bundle and the Grieve's lass. Good speed and my
blessing!' she cried, making ready to shut the window and draw the bolt.
'I am going to sleep in Marjorie's room. The gulls are beginning to
sing. I love not to hear gabble--yours or theirs!'
But I leave you to guess who it was that felt himself the greater gull.
*CHAPTER III*
*THE SECOND TAUNTING OF SPURHEEL*
Now I shall ever affirm that there was not in all this realm of
Scotland, since the young Queen Mary came out of France--of whom our
grandfathers yet make boast, and rise from their chairs with their
natural strength unabated as they tell--so lovely a maid as Marjorie
Kennedy, the elder of the two remaining daughters of Sir Thomas, the
Tutor of Cassillis. Ever since I came to the house of Culzean, I could
have lain down gladly and let her walk over me--this even when I was but
a boy, and much more when I grew nigh to eighteen, and had all the heart
and some of the experience of a man in the things of love.
And how the lairds and knights came a-wooing her! Ay, even belted earls
like Glencairn and Eglintoun! But Marjorie gave them no more than the
bend of a scornful head or the waft of a white hand, for she had a way
with her that moved men's brains to a very fantasy of desire.
For myself, I declare that when she came down and walked in the garden,
I became like a little waggling puppy dog, so great was my desire to
attract her attention. Yet she spoke to me but seldom, being of a nature
as noble as it was reserved. Silent and grave Marjorie Kennedy mostly
was, with the lustre of her eyes turned more often on the far sea edges,
than on the desirable young men who rode their horses so gallantly over
the greensward to the landward gate of Culzean.
But it is not of Marjorie Kennedy, whom with all my heart I worshipped
(and do worship, spite of all), that I have at this time most to tell.
It happened on this day that, late in the afternoon, Sir Thomas, my
master, came out of the chamber where ordinarily he did his business,
and commanded me to prepare his arms, and also bid the grooms have the
horses ready, for us two only, at seven of the clock.
'That will be just at the darkening,' I said, for I thought it a strange
time to be setting forth, when the country was so unsettled with the
great feud between the Kennedies of Cassilis and the young Laird of
Bargany and his party.
'Just at the darkening,' he made answer, very shortly indeed, as though
he would have minded me that the time of departure was no business of
mine--which, indeed, it was not.
So I oiled and snapped the pistolets, and saw that the swords moved
easily from their sheaths. Thereafter I prepared my own hackbutt and
set the match ready in my belt. I was ever particular about my arms and
of those of my lord as well, for I prided myself on never having been
faulted in the performing of my duty, however much I might slip in other
matters that touched not mine honour as a soldier.
Once or twice as I rubbed or caressed the locks with a feather and fine
oil thereon, I was aware of a lightly-shod foot moving along the passage
without. I knew well that it was the lassie Helen, anxious, as I
judged, to make up the quarrel; or, perhaps, with yet more evil in her
heart, wishful to try my temper worse than before.
Presently she put her head within the door, but I stood with my back to
her, busy with my work at the window. I would not so much as look up.
Indeed, I cared nothing about the matter one way or the other, for why
should a grown man and a soldier care about the glaiks and puppet-plays
of a lassie of sixteen?
She stayed still by the door a moment, waiting for me to notice her.
But I did not, whereat at last she spoke. 'Ye are a great man this day,
Spurheel,' she said tauntingly. 'Did ye rowell your leg yestreen to
waken ye in time to bring hame the Grieve's lassie?'
I may as well tell the origin now of the name 'Spurheel,' by which at
this time she ordinarily called me. It was a nothing, and it is indeed
not worth the telling. It chanced that for my own purpose I desired to
wake one night at a certain time, and because I was a sound sleeper, I
tied a spur to my heel, thinking that with a little touch I should waken
as I turned over. But in the night I had a dream. I dreamed that the
foul fiend himself was riding me, and I kicked so briskly to dismount
him that I rowelled myself most cruelly. Thus I was found in the morning
lying all naked, having gashed myself most monstrously with the spur,
which has been a cast-up against me with silly people ever since.
Now this is the whole tale why I was called 'Spurheel,' and in it there
was no word of the Grieve's daughter--though Kate Allison was a bonny,
well-favoured lass too, and that I will maintain in spite of all the
gibes of Helen Kennedy.
'I will bring you the spoons and the boots also to clean,' she said,
'and the courtyard wants sweeping!'
In this manner she often spoke to me as if I had been a menial, because
when I did my squire's duty with the weapons and the armour, I would not
let her so much as touch them, which she much desired to do, for she was
by nature as curious about these things as a boy.
So for show and bravery I tried the edge of my own sword on the back of
my hand. Nell Kennedy laughed aloud.
'Hairs on the back of a bairn's hand!' quoth she. 'Better try your
carving knife instead on the back of a horse's currying comb!'
But I knew when to be silent, and she got no satisfaction out of me.
And that was ever the better way of it with her, when I could
sufficiently command my temper to follow mine own best counsel.
So the afternoon wore on, and before it was over I had time to go out
into the fields, and also towards evening to the tennis-court--where, to
recreate myself, I played sundry games with James and Alexander Kennedy,
good lads enough, but ever better at that ball play which has no powder
behind it.
At the gloaming the horses were ready and accoutred for the expedition.
The Tutor of Cassillis and I rode alone, as was his wont--so great was
his trust in my courage and discretion, though my years were not many,
and (I grant it) the hairs yet few on my chin. It was still March, and
the bitter winter we had had seemed scarcely to have blown itself out.
So that, although the crows had a week before been carrying sticks for
their nesting in the woods of Culzean, yet now, in the quick-coming
dark, the snowflakes were again whirling and spreading ere they reached
the ground.
As we rode through the courtyard and out at the gate, I heard the soft
pit-pat of a foot behind us, for I have a good ear. I heard it even
through the clatter of the hoofs of our war horses. So I turned in my
saddle, and there behind us was that madcap lass, Nell Kennedy, with her
wylicoats kilted and a snowball in her hand, which she manifestly
designed to throw at me. But even as I ducked my head the ball flew
past me and hit Sir Thomas's horse 'Ailsa' on the rump, making him
curvet to the no small discomfort of the rider.
'What was that, think ye, Launcelot?' my master asked in his kindly way.
'It might have been a bat,' I made answer--for it was, at least, no use
bringing the lassie into the affair, in spite of what she had done to me
that morning. Besides, I could find out ways of paying my debts to her
without the telling of tales, and that was always one comfort.
'It is a queer time of year for bats,' answered Sir Thomas, doubtfully.
But he rode on and said no more. I kept behind him, ducking my head and
appearing to be in terror of another snowball, for the ground was now
whitening fast. Nell Kennedy followed after, making her next ball
harder by pressing it in her hand. So we went till we came to the far
side of the drawbridge and were ready to plunge into the woodlands.
Then I gave the whistle which tells that all is well on the landward
side, and is the signal for the bridge to be raised. Gabby Gib-cat
heard and obeyed quickly, as he was wont to do when his master was not
far away. At other times he was lazy as the hills.
The bridge went grinding up, and therefore the Gib-cat would
immediately, as I knew, stretch himself for a sleep by the fire. So
there I had Mistress Nell on the landward side of the drawbridge and the
gate up, with the snow dancing down on her bare head and her coats
kilted for mischief.
I lagged a little behind Sir Thomas, so that I could say to Nell, whose
spirits were somewhat dashed by the raising of the bridge, 'Step down to
the water side and bring up the three bottles of Canary, or go over to
the farm and keep the Grieve's lass company. She may perchance be
lonely.'
So waving my hand and laughing, I rode off and left her alone. I hoped
that she cried, for my heart was hot within me because of the good
things on which I had expended all my saving, and which I had in all
kindliness meant to share with her.
Yet we had not reached the great oak in the park before she was again by
my side.
'Think ye I canna gang up the ladder in the White Tower as well as you,
Spurheel. It is just kilting my coats a kennin' higher!'
And I could have bitten my fingers off that I had forgotten to pull it
in again to my chamber. For in the morning I had mended and dropped it,
not knowing when it might be needed.
*CHAPTER IV*
*THE INN ON THE RED MOSS*
And now to tell of sterner business. For light-wit havering with a lass
bairn about a great house is but small part of the purpose of my
story--though I can take pleasure in that also when it chances to come
my way, as indeed becomes a soldier.
We rode on some miles through the woods. It still snowed, and straying
flakes disentangled themselves from among the branches and sprinkled us
sparsely. It grew eerie as the night closed in, and we heard only the
roar of the wind above us, the leafless branches clacking against one
another like the bones of dead men.
It was not my place to ask whither we were going, but it may be believed
that I was anxious enough to learn. By-and-by we struck into the
moorland road which climbs over the Red Moss in the direction of the
hill that is called Brown Carrick. The snow darkness settled down, and,
but that once I had been friendly with a lass who lived in that
direction, and so was accustomed to night travel in these parts, I
should scarce have known whither we were going.
But I understood that it could only be to the lonesome Inn of the Red
Moss, kept by Black Peter, that Culzean was making his way. As we began
to climb the moor, Sir Thomas motioned me with his hand to ride abreast
of him, and to make ready my weapons, which I was not loth to do, for I
am no nidderling to be afraid of powder. When at last we came to the
Inn of the Red Moss, there were lights shining in the windows, and
looking out ruddy and lowering under the thatch of the eaves. It was
ever an uncanny spot, and so it was more than ever now.
But for all that the Red Moss was populous as a bees' byke that night,
for men and horses seemed fairly to swarm about it. Yet there was no
jovial crying or greeting between man and man, such as one may hear any
market day upon the plainstones of Ayr.
The men who were meeting thus by dark of night, were mostly men of
position come together upon a dangerous and unwholesome ploy. As soon
as I saw the quality of the gentlemen who were, assembled, I knew that
we had come to a gathering of the heads of the Cassillis faction. Nor
was it long before I saw my lord himself, a tall, well-set young man,
inclining to stoutness, and of a fair complexion with closely-cut flaxen
hair.
The Laird of Culzean, my master, lighted down and took the Earl by the
hand, asking in his kindly way,--
'Is it well with you, John?'
For in his minority he had been his tutor and governor, and in after
years had agreed well with him, which is not so common.
'Ay, well with me,' replied the Earl, 'but it is that dotard fool,
Kelwood, who has gotten the chest of gold and jewels, which in my
father's time was stolen from the house of Cassillis by Archibald
Bannatyne, who was my father's man. He died in my father's hands, who
was not a cat to draw a straw before. Nevertheless, even in the Black
Vault of Dunure he could not be brought to reveal where he had hidden
the chest. But now Kelwood, or another for him, has gotten it from
Archie's widow, a poor woman that knew not its worth.'
'But Kelwood will deliver it, John. Is he not your man? Trouble not
any more about the matter,' counselled the Tutor, who was ever for the
milder opinion, and very notably wise as well as slow in judgment.
'Nay,' said the Earl, 'deliver it he will not, for Bargany and
Auchendrayne have gotten his ear, and he has set his mansion house in
defence against us. I have called you here, Tutor, for your good
advice. Shall we levy our men and beset Kelwood, or how shall we
proceed that I may recover that which is most justly mine own?'
For it was ever the bitterest draught to the Earl to lose siller or
gear. The Tutor stood for a moment by his beast's neck, holding his
head a little to one side in a way he had when he was considering
anything--a trick which his daughter Nell has also.
'How many are ye here?' he said to the Earl.
'We are fifteen,' the Earl replied.
'All gentlemen?' again asked the Tutor.
'All cadets of mine own house, and ready to fight to the death for the
blue and gold!' replied the Earl, giving a cock to the bonnet, in the
side of which he had the lilies of France upon a rosette of blue velvet,
which (at that time) was the Cassillis badge of war.
As the Earl spoke, I, who stood a little behind with my finger on the
cock of my pistol, saw my lord raise a questioning eyebrow at me, as if
to ask his uncle who the young squire might be whom he had brought with
him.
'He is the son of John Kennedy of Kirrieoch, and with us to the death,'
said my master.
For which most just speech I thanked him in my heart.
'The name is a good one,' said the Earl, with a little quaintish smile.
And well might he say so, for it was his own, and my father of as good
blood as he, albeit of a younger branch.
Presently we were riding forth again, seventeen men in our company, for
the Earl had not counted the Tutor and myself in his numeration. We
rode clattering and careless over the moors, by unfrequented tracks or
no track at all. As we went I could hear them talking ever about the
treasure of Kelwood, and, in especial, I heard a strange, daftlike old
man, whom they called Sir Thomas Tode, tell of the Black Vault of
Dunure, and how lands and gear were gathered by the tortures there. His
tales and his manners were so strange and unseemly, that I vowed before
long to take an opportunity to hear him more fully. But now there was
much else to do.
Betimes we came to the tower of Kelwood and saw only the black mass of
it stand up against the sky, with not a peep of light anywhere. Now, as
you may judge, we went cannily, and as far as might be we kept over the
soft ground. The Tutor bade us cast a compass about the house, so that
we might make ourselves masters of the fields, and thus be sure that no
enemy was lying there in wait for us. But we encompassed the place and
found nothing alive, save some lean swine that ran snorting forth from a
shelter where they had thought to pass the night.
Then I and the young Laird of Gremmat, being the best armed and most
active there, were sent forward to spy out the securest way of taking
the tower. I liked the job well enough, for I never was greatly feared
of danger all my days; and at any rate there is small chance of
distinction sitting one's horse in the midst of twenty others in an open
field.
So Gremmat and I went about the house and about, which was not a castle
with towers and trenches, like Dunure or Culzean, but only a petty
blockhouse. And I laughed within myself to think of such a bees' byke
having the mighty assurance to dream of keeping a treasure against my
Lord Cassillis, as well as against the Tutor of that ilk and me, his
squire.
There was no drawbridge nor yet so much as a ditch about Kelwood Tower,
but only a little yett-house with an open pend or passage, that gave
against the main wall of the building. Within this passage, could we
gain it, I knew that we should be well protected, and have time to burst
in the wall, even if the door withstood us. For once within the
archway, I could not see how it was possible for those in the house to
reach us, in any way to do us harm.
Gremmat and I therefore went back to our company with the news, but the
best of it--the part concerning the yett-house--I kept to myself. For
the Laird of Gremmat, though a tough fighter, was not a man of
penetration, so that I well deserved the credit of telling what I alone
had seen.
When I told the chiefs of my discovery, my Lord of Cassillis said
nothing but turned abruptly to the Tutor, thinking nothing of my tidings
or of the danger I had been in to bring them. Nevertheless Sir Thomas,
my master, turned first to me, as was his kindly custom.
'It is well done of you, Launcelot. The sheep herding on Kirrieoch has
given you an eye for other things,' he said.
And at that I think the Earl gave me a little more consideration, though
all that he said was no more than, 'Well, Tutor, and what do you
advise?'
'I think,' said the Tutor, 'that you and the younger men had best take
Launcelot's advice, and conceal yourselves in the pend of the
yett-house, with picks and, perhaps, a mickle tree for a battering-ram,
while I and a trumpeter lad summon Kelwood himself to surrender. In
that clump of trees over there we shall be out of reach of their
matchlocks.'
So the Earl took the advice, and in a little we were in the black trough
of the pend, with an iron-bolted door in front and the rough, unhewn
stones of the wall on either side of us.
Then the Tutor's trumpet blew one rousing blast and then another, till
we could hear the stir of men roused out of their sleep in the tower
above us. But we ourselves held our breaths and keeped very quiet.
Once more the trumpet blew from the clump of oak trees over against the
main gate.
'Who may ye be that blaws horns in the Kelwood without asking leave of
me?' cried a voice from the narrow window in the wall above us.