'Where gat ye that horse, Robert?'
'I got it,' he replied, readily and also calmly, 'from a man that is
little likely to need it again, at least for a tale of months.'
'From Thomas of Drummurchie?' I asked.
'Who else?' said Harburgh, simply, as though the fact had been
sufficient explanation; as, indeed, it was--in the way he said it.
But all the while Marjorie stood looking calmly down at James Mure. He
recovered little by little from the stunning knock, and presently made
as if he would sit up.
'Tie his hands,' said Marjorie Kennedy. And then seeing that we
hesitated--'nay, give me the halter,' she said, 'I will do it myself.'
And there on the open moor, with the bridle of his own beast, I declare
she did the binding featly and well.
'Now, listen, James Mure,' she said, raising her voice, 'ye have steeped
your hands in my father's blood. Ye have shed yet more blood to cover
that crime, even the blood of an innocent young child. With these hands
that are tied, you did these things. I am your wife. I will never
leave you nor forsake you till you die. I will see that you have fair
and honourable trial; but be assured that I shall testify against you
truly as to that which I know and have seen.
She turned to us with her old easy way of command, imperiously gracious,
but sharper a little than her ordinary. 'Mount him on that horse,' she
said, like a queen who issues commands to her court.
And this was she who had walked gladsomely with me in the garden at
Culzean, and who in smiling maidenly condescension had given a love-sick
boy her favour to wear. What agony of hell had passed over her spirit
thus to turn the sweet maiden to a woman of stone?
'Whither shall we take him?' said I, for it seemed to me not at all
expedient to delay longer than we could help in that disturbed and fatal
part of the country.
'To the Earl, on his way to the King!' replied Marjorie Kennedy.
'If ye bide still half-an-hour where ye are, ye will see the Earl come
hither,' said Robert Harburgh. 'He rides to the south to hold his
yearly Court of Bailiary on the borders of Carrick.'
For since the great defeat of the Bargany faction, and the death of the
young chief at the gate of Maybole upon that memorable day of snow, my
Lord Cassillis had gained more and more in power, so that none now was
able to make any head openly against him. The death of Sir Thomas, my
good master, had also thrown all that additional weight of authority
upon his shoulders. Indeed Earl John bode fair to be what his father
had been before him--the King of Carrick.
His titular jurisdiction had always included the southern parts of the
district. But it was only of late that he had made himself so strong as
to be able to enforce his authority there.
Now, however, Earl John was riding to hold his Court near Girvan, in a
country which not a great while ago had been purely a stronghold of his
enemies, and which still swarmed with the disaffected and rebellious.
So even while we stood and waited there, Nell cried out that a cavalcade
rode southward toward us by the edge of the Red Moss. It was not long
before we could discern the fluttering pennons of blue and gold, which
denoted the presence of the Earl. He had with him a noble retinue of
well-nigh four hundred--all handsomely armed--many of them knights and
gentlemen of his own name.
We waited for them to come up with us, I meanwhile keeping close by
Nell's side, and Marjorie Kennedy standing steadfastly at her husband's
head and looking at him, while Robert Harburgh marched up and down with
his hands under his points and whistled the 'Broom o' the Cowdenknowes.'
When the Earl John, riding first as was his custom, perceived who we
were, he lighted down with much courtesy to salute his cousins.
'How do you, ladies? And what, by the grace of God, brings you hither
with so small a company in such a dangerous place?'
Then said Marjorie, 'Earl of Cassillis, you are my cousin; but you are
also Bailzie of Carrick and hold the power of life and death. I take
you and all your company to witness that I deliver over to you this man,
called James Mure of Auchendrayne. He is twice a convict
murderer--right cruelly he slew my father and your uncle, and I charge
him also with the fact of the murder of William Dalrymple, a poor boy of
tender years, whom he killed with his own hands to cover the first
deed--both which accusations I shall in due time make good.'
The Earl was manifestly mightily astonished, as well he might be, at the
Lady Marjorie's declaration; but he was glad also, because it was no
light thing for him to lay the enemy of his house by the heels, and,
seeing good prospect of getting the Mures attainted and denounced, to be
able to make himself omnipotent in all the lands of the south.
'Bring the man along with us!' he commanded. 'Let him have all tendance
and care; but let a double guard be placed over him.'
'I will be his guard!' said Marjorie, firmly. 'I, and no other!'
Nevertheless, Earl John named a retinue to ride with Marjorie and her
husband, in the name of a guard of honour; but really because he felt
his fingers already on the throat of his house's enemy.
And as we rode back the way we had come--now no longer in fear and
trembling, but in manifest state and pomp--Marjorie sate humbly upon a
sheltie by the side of the man who was lawfully her husband, and yet
whom she had most sacredly vowed to bring to the gallows.
And for the present the Dominie and I resolved to keep the secret of the
Cave of Death, and of the fearsome inner place where was bestowed the
Treasure of Kelwood.
But immediately after the Court of Justiceaire I resolved to make it
known to the Earl, for so Nell and I had made our compact. And as for
the Dominie he might be relied upon to speak or to be silent even as I
bade him.
*CHAPTER XLIII*
*THE MOOT HILL OF GIRVAN*
As may well be imagined, two hundred gentlemen with their retinue of as
many more of the commonalty made a gallant stir, and required almost the
providing of an army. So that as we went southward the people were well
warned to repair to the Court of my Lord Bailzie of Carrick, for the
office of Earl John was the greatest of the Lowland hereditary
jurisdictions. Though the house of Cassillis has never been so beloved
of the people nor yet so careful of their rights as that of the Agnews
of Lochnaw, who from very ancient times have been Sheriffs of Galloway.
Nevertheless, it was a right solemn gathering which assembled on the
little hill outside the town of Girvan, where such feudal courts had
always been held. Within the enclosure, formed by the fluttering blue
and gold pennons of the Earl, there was set a high seat for Cassillis
himself. In front of him, at a draped table, sat his adviser and
assessor, Lawyer Boyd of Penkill, while all round the gentlemen of his
house and name sat or stood according to their degree, just outside the
line of pennons, within which none might come save the accused and they
who gave their evidence.
Then the trumpeter from the summit of the Moot Hill of Girvan made
proclamation with three blasts of his horn that the session was open,
and that all men's causes were to be brought to the probation.
First there came sundry usual complaints of stouthreif and oppression,
for the country was yet very unsettled. A woman cried for vengeance on
Thomas of Drummurchie, called the Wolf, for the carrying off of her
daughter. But as Drummurchie was already ten times attainted, it seemed
as though little would come of it.
But Robert Harburgh strode forward and cried out, 'By your leave, Earl
of Cassillis, the Wolf of Drummurchie will carry off no more tender
lambs, neither mell with other men's wives any more. The dainty ladies
of Ayr need no more draw their purses to rescue him, neither to provide
him with costly gear. For he has gone to a country where he shall be
keeped bien and warm, beiking forever foment the hottest fires of Satan,
so lately his master here on earth!'
And with that he threw the arms and accoutrement of the Wolf on the
green with prodigious clatterment.
'But this,' said the Earl John, 'though greatly creditable to our squire
and of excellent omen for the peace of Carrick from this day forth,
gives not this poor woman again her daughter.'
For he did not wish to assign any reward to Robert Harburgh besides the
lands which had already been given him, perhaps desiring to retain so
valiant a sworder near to his own person and estate.
'I had been to the house of Drummurchie ere I settled accounts with the
Wolf himself,' replied Robert Harburgh, in the same manner of exceeding
quiet, 'and there have I set all things in order, sending every man's
daughter to her father's house and every man's wife back to his
keeping.'
'Retaining none for yourself!' cried Earl John, for daffing's sake. For
that was his idea of a jest.
'Whatever my desires, I have married a wife that sees to that--even as
hath also my Lord Earl!' quoth Robert Harburgh.
And so the laugh was turned against the Earl John, because all knew how
carefully the ancient Countess kept the valleys about Cassillis and the
Inch clear of buxom dames and over-complacent maids. For, in his youth,
Earl John had the name of being both generally and most subtly amorous.
Yet, strange to say, the jest thus broken at his expense, put the Earl
into a good key, for it was only the outlay of money that he grudged.
So he cried out, 'Robert Harburgh, your tongue can be as sharp as your
rapier. You have rid us of a great curse here in the south, and there
is muckle need in these parts of such a sword and such a tongue as yours
to keep the landward oafs in civility. You shall have the lands of
Drummurchie, with ten men's fighting charges to hold them against all
evil folk till such time as the land be quiet.'
And Robert Harburgh bowed low to his lord and retired. As he went I
clapped him on the back, and said, 'Robert, I would that my long sword
had done as muckle for me.'
'Steady on the hilt! Keep your point low, your tongue silent, and it
shall do more!' he answered over his shoulder as he went by.
Then was brought forward James Mure of Auchendrayne, clad only in the
suit of russet leather which he had worn under the mail wherein he had
been taken. He was ever a hang-dog, ill-favoured oaf, and now looked
sullenly and silently upon the ground.
His names and titles were first declared.
'Who accuses this man, and of what?' cried Earl John in loud tones.
And every man in the assembly moved a little, as though he itched to be
the accuser himself. But since there was none that directly knew of our
adventure, no one stood forth save our Marjorie and Nell, till I myself
stepped forth with them, with Robert Harburgh and the Dominie a little
behind us.
'Now speak out,' whispered Harburgh of the Long Sword to me, 'and let
your nimble wit win you a wife.'
And I looked at Nell, and resolved that if she slipped through my
fingers, it should not be the fault of my lack of address.
'Who accuses this man?' cried the herald, taking the word from his
master, for the Lords of Carrick and Cassillis were beyond the paltry
fashion of pursuivants.
'I do!' said Marjorie Kennedy, and all men set their eyes on her.
Neither, so long as the case lasted, did they withdraw their eyes from
her face. Then she opened her mouth and spoke firmly and sternly her
accusation.
'I, Marjorie, daughter of the Tutor of Cassillis, in law wife to this
man, charge James Mure the younger of Auchendrayne with the murder of my
father, committed, as all men know, upon the sandhills of Ayr. I also
accuse him of the murder of William Dalrymple, the lad who carried the
message to Auchendrayne concerning my father's journey.'
'Cousin,' said Earl John, 'you have doubtless abundant proof to support
these strange charges?'
Marjorie Kennedy stood up among us, tall like a lily flower, and she
held her head erect.
'Hear you, John of Cassillis, and all men,' she said. 'I will tell my
tale. Of my own griefs I will say naught, for in no realm do a woman's
heart-breakings count for a docken's value. It is enough that my father
in the simplicity of his heart gave me to this man, as an innocent
sacrifice is cast to a monster to appease his ravening. These many
months I dwelt in this man's castle. I have been prisoned, starved,
tortured--yet all the Mures in Auchendrayne could neither prevail to
break my resolve, nor yet could they close my mouth concerning the
things which I saw.
'And now I, that am no more bound to this man than I was when he took me
out of my father's house of Culzean--I, who have never looked upon him
that is my wedded husband save with eyes of hatred, never lain by his
side, stand here to denounce James Mure and his father for black, cruel,
repeated, defenceless MURDER!'
*CHAPTER XLIV*
*THE MURDER UPON THE BEACH*
Marjorie Kennedy rang out the last words like a trumpet. Not even the
Earl's herald could have been heard further.
'All men hear my tale before they judge,' she went on. 'It was the morn
before my father's death-day. From my window in the house of
Auchendrayne I had seen this man and his father, with Thomas of
Drummurchie and Walter of Cloncaird, come and go all day with trappings
and harness, because they knew that the time was nigh at hand for my
father's riding to Edinburgh. It chanced that I was looking down
through the bars of my prison-house, for there was little else to do in
the house of Auchendrayne. It was about eleven of the clock when I saw
a young lad, dusty from head to foot, venture a little way within the
castle yett and stand as one that looks about him, not knowing where to
turn. The court was void and silent, and the lad seemed distressed.
But while he thus stood James Mure and his father came down the turnpike
stair and stepped, talking whisperingly together, out into the flagged
court.
'It was John Mure the elder who first saw the lad and called him. I saw
the boy put a letter into his hand, the which he opened carefully and
read, passing it to his son, who read also. Then James Mure stepped
back and called Thomas of Drummurchie and Cloncaird. They came both of
them, and the four bent their heads together over the writing.
'Then in a little John Mure closed the letter again as it had been and
gave it with certain charges to the boy.'
'Saw you that letter or knew you aught of its contents?' asked the Earl
John.
'Nay,' said Marjorie Kennedy, 'my window was too far from, them, and
they spoke low and with privity among themselves.'
Then was my time.
'My Lord Bailzie of Carrick,' said I, 'may it please you it was I,
Launcelot Kennedy of Kirrieoch, some time squire to Sir Thomas of
Culzean, who sent that letter. I sent it from Maybole by the hands of
William Dalrymple, the lad whom the Lady Marjorie saw come within the
castle yett of Auchendrayne.'
The Dominie stood forward.
'And it was I, Robert Mure, schoolmaster in the town of Maybole, who
wrote that letter. I wrote it as Launcelot Kennedy set me the words,
for he is a man readier with the sword than the pen, though he hath some
small skill even of that. But that day he was hot upon his game of golf
(which I hold to be but a foolish sport which rapidly obscures the
senses), so I, having, as is mine office, pen in hand, wrote the letter
for him. Also I sent one William Dalrymple, called for a nickname
Willie of the Gleg-foot, with it to John Mure at his house of
Auchendrayne. I bear witness that after a space this boy came back,
with the story that he had found John Mure from home. But when we
charged it upon him that the letter had been thumbed and opened, he grew
confused and confessed that he had been compelled to bring back that
message by Mure himself, who had broken the seal and given it again to
him, even as the Lady Marjorie has said.'
'And what further proof do you offer of all this?' asked the Earl,
bending forward with eagerness to catch the Dominie's words.
The Dominie put his hand into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled
out, among various pipe reeds and scraps of writing, a letter which he
kept carefully folded in a leathern case by itself.
'There is the thing itself; may it please your lordship to look upon
it,' said he, calmly. And as soon as he had said that, the Earl rose
eagerly to see the famous missive which had drought about all this
turmoil. There was also a stir among the folk that were gathered about,
for all strained their eyes as if they could see that which was going
on, and read the writing at that distance.
'It is a most notable proof,' said the Earl, 'and so we receive it. But
can you not produce the lad William Dalrymple?'
'That can we not,' said the Lady Marjorie; 'but I, and I alone, can tell
you all the story of his death--blacker even than the other, because
done to a young lad against whom even these cruel murderers could allege
no quarrel.'
And again there could be heard the sound of men settling down to deep
attention throughout all the crowd at the diet of Justiceaire. And they
even crowded in a little past the pennons, so that the heralds had to
beat upon the ground with the butts of their halbards, as though to
bruise their feet, before they could force them to give back. But James
Mure abode stupidlike and sullen before his judge, while his accuser
stood not three feet from him and told her story.
'It was just when the bruit of my father's death began to go abroad
against the Auchendraynes,' so Marjorie Kennedy again took up her tale,
'and when John Mure the elder began to fear that the matter of the
letter would be made manifest, that I again saw the little lad William
Dalrymple. One night I observed James Mure leading him rudely by the
neck into one of the barred cells which underlie the stables. And to
that place with his own hands he carried food and water once every day
thereafter.
'Then came to visit John Mure one Sir Robert Montgomery, the Laird of
Skelmorlie. And with him they sent the lad, on pretext to be a page at
his house of Loch Ranza, which he keeps for the King's hunting lodge on
the Isle of Arran. What befell there I cannot tell, but it was not many
weeks before William Dalrymple was back again. And this time they sent
him (as he told me afterwards) to the Lowlands of Holland, there to
serve in the Lord Buccleuch's regiment, which, first as a trumpeter and
after as a soldier, he did. Nevertheless, being but young, he wearied
easily of the stress and chance of foreign war, and so returned as
before.
'Then when, in spite of all, the boy came back, and it was told to John
Mure that William Dalrymple was again in his native town, he was neither
to hold nor to bind. He neither rested nor slept till he had again
brought the lad to his house, where he abode for some weeks, but not so
closely shut up as before, so that it was often my chance to see him as
he came and went about the court, and even to converse with him. But in
a little while he vanished, and from that time I saw him no more.
'Now, the bitterness of my life and my desire to bring to justice the
murderers of my father caused me at last to quit the house of
Auchendrayne. For now I held, as I thought, the strings which would
draw mine enemies to their doom. So upon a night I had it set to
escape, she that was my maid helping me, with one other that was a body
servant of Auchendrayne's and my tire-woman's lover.
'When I came out I found a pony waiting for me, and it was my purpose to
ride to the house of my kinsman, the Earl of Cassillis. But, as I
journeyed, what was my great affrightment to come upon a company of two,
who rode some little way before me. I could easily have turned
bridle-rein and ridden another way, but for something which came into my
heart to make me follow on. For in a trice I recognised the riders to
be John Mure and his son, the father being wrapped in his great cloak of
grey, as is his custom. And by this I knew him.
'So I followed them, but not very near. And because my beast was a
stable companion of their horses, he went after of his own accord--till,
by the first breaking touch or morn we came to a waste place upon the
edge of the sea, where in a secret dell I dismounted and tied my pony to
a broom-bush which shot out over a sandy hollow.
'Then, yet more secretly, I followed them across the sandhills, and on
the very edge on the links, where the turf ceases underfoot and there is
only sand, John Mure and his son, this man before you, waited. For a
while they stood listening and talking low together, so that, though I
lay hidden behind a whin which overgrew a little turfy dell, I could
neither hear what was said, nor yet by reason of the bareness of the
sand, dared I to adventure nearer them. 'But they waited not long before
one came down to meet them over the turf, bringing a lad with him.
Then, immediately James Mure whistled a call, and the reply came back in
like manner.
'"You are late, James Bannatyne," I heard John Mure the elder say; "what
has taigled you?"
'"My sea cloth is not so well accustomed to night ploys as your cloak of
grey!" the man growled as he came along sullenly enough.
'Then the three men of them walked a little apart, and came in their
circuit very near to the hollow where I lay. While down on the shore the
young lad stood and yawned, with his hands in his pockets, like one that
shivers and wishes he were back in bed. Nor had he, I am confident,
even then any thought of evil.
'But the talk of the three, as I heard it in snatches, was black and
bitter.
'The darkest counsel was that of the man who stands here, for James Mure
said only, "The dead are no tale-pyets." And again, "We have had enough
of this silly, endless, hiding-and-seeking work. Let the earth hide
him, or the sea keep him--and be done with it!"
'Now John Mure the elder, and the man whom they called James Bannatyne,
seemed at the least inclined to discuss milder councils. Bannatyne was
all for sending the lad over to Ireland. And John Mure listened as
though he might be persuaded. Yet I knew his guile, for even when he
stood with his back to his son, I saw him lift up his hand for a signal.
And with that and no more, James Mure rushed at the poor lad and
overbore him to the ground. And there upon the sands of the seashore,
this James Mure set his knee on the bairnie's breast, and with bloody
hands choked and worried him till there was no life left in the lad.
And his father also went and held the lad when he fought, his white,
reverend beard waggling in the wind, till at last the bairn lay still.
But James Bannatyne stood by and clasped his hands, as the boy tossed
and struggled for his dear young life, for I think he was now mainly
sorry that he had brought the lad to his death.
'Then I could stand the vileness no longer without protest. So I,
Marjorie Kennedy, even though I well knew that they would certainly do
the like to me, rose from my hiding-place in the sand-hollow, and cried,
"Murderers, cease from your cruel work. God will come and judge you!"
'Whereat John Mure came hastily to where I stood and gripped me. "You
have seen all," he said, "then you must die. Let us see if God will
come and help you!"
'So I defied them to do their worst with me, for madness had come upon
me at the sight of the monstrous cruelty to an innocent bairn. And for
the time I cared not what should become of myself.
'Then I called to James Bannatyne requiring of him to declare if he too
were a murderer like the other fiends, and to call upon him to protect
the innocent.
'"We will settle all that in the one payment, mistress," said John Mure
to me.
'So by force I was compelled to abide with them, John Mure the elder
taking me cruelly by the arm, while he sent the others to cast into the
sea the dead body of the lad. But even so oft as they threw him in, so
often the waves cast him out again upon the shore; and that though there
was a strong wind off the land, which blew the tops from the waves and
drave the sand in hissing streams into the sea.
'So when for the third time the boy had been tumbled upon the beach,
John Mure bade Bannatyne bring his boat, saying that they would cast the
loon afloat out in the deeps of the bay, so that the outerly wind might
drive him to the coast of Ireland. After that they would return betimes
to attend to other matters--by which I took him to mean that they would
do that for me, which I had so lately seen them do for the young boy.
And, indeed, I looked for no other mercy at their brutal hands. So in a
little space James Bannatyne brought his boat, and with hard endeavour
they launched her, and compelled me to accompany them. There was a
strong wind from the east, and we were soon blown far out into the wild
sea. There they cast the body of the lad overboard, and turned to make
again for the shore. But though they all took oars and laboured in
rowing, sames Bannatyne taking twain, they could make nothing of it; but
were rather worse than they had been before they started.
'So they began to be afraid, and I was right glad thereat, for I looked
that the doom of the twice guilty murderers should speedily come. And
so the pain of this trial and my witnessing might have been spared.
'Now the Mures were the most fearful of the quick-risen storm, being as
it were inland bred. It was all that James Bannatyne could get them to
do to sit still.
'"Ye will wreck us all and send us red-hand before our Maker, with the
lad's body not cold in the water, and his spirit there to meet us at the
Judgment seat!" said he.
'And with that John Mure rose in his place, and in despite of the
swaying and plunging of the ship, into which the water came lashing, he
cried out, "The Wraith, the Wraith! It is following us--we are
doomed!"'
'And lo! when I looked, I saw that which chilled me more than the
whistling tempest. And if it feared me to the soul, judge ye what it
must have been to the guilty men whose hands were yet red with the blood
of the innocent.
'For there, not thirty yards behind the boat, and following strongly in
our wake, as a stark swimmer might do, now tumbling and leaping in the
wash of the seas and now lunging forward like a boat that is towed, was
the murdered boy himself. And thus he followed with a smile on his
face, or what looked like it in the uncertain light of the morning.
'So with that the men who rowed fell on their faces and could not look
any more, though the prodigy followed us a good while. Only John Mure
sat wrapped in his grey cloak steering the boat, and I sat beside him.
Little by little we came to the land, but as it had been sideways,
having been driven by the wind to the other side of the wide bay.
'There we disembarked and the Mures kept me close all that day in a
place of strength on the seashore, till it was night. They plied me to
promise silence, for they believed that I would keep my word if once I
pledged it. They offered me all that they had of honour or place in the
country. There was nothing, they said, that was not within the power of
their compassing. For since the death of Gilbert of Bargany the King
needed someone in Carrick strong enough to count spears with the Earl of
Cassillis.
'But very steadfastly I withstood them, declaring that I should
certainly reveal all their murder and treachery, both in the matter of
the death of my lather, and in that which I had seen done upon the sands
to the young lad William Dalrymple.
'So finally seeing that they could prevail nothing, they went out and
kept silent watch by the door till the even. Then as soon as it was dark
they opened the lock and bade me come forth. And this I did, knowing
for a certainty that my last hour was come. Yet my life had not been so
pleasant to me as to be very greatly precious. So I followed them with
no very ill will, nor yet greatly concerned. Then on the craggy top they
gave me, for the sake of their house and good name (as they said), one
more chance to swear silence. This I would not accept, and they, being
startled with the approach of a boat upon the water which steered
towards our light, pinioned my arms, and thrusting something into my
mouth, forthwith threw me over the cliff into the sea. And as to the
mode of my rescuing and standing here before the Earl my cousin, young
Launcelot Kennedy, my father's squire, can tell. And also my sister and
Robert Mure of Maybole.'
*CHAPTER XLV*
*THE MAN IN THE WIDE BREECHES*
She ceased suddenly after this long account of her adventuring, and the
folk stood still in amazement, having held their breath while she told
of the killing of young William Dalrymple and of the Wraith. And then
there arose a great cry from all the people,--
'Tear the murderer in pieces--kill him, kill him!' So that Cassillis
had to summon men-at-arms to keep back that throng of furious folk, for
the death of my master seemed to them but a little thing and venial,
compared to the killing of a lad like William Dalrymple. And this was
because the people of Carrick had been used all their days to family
feuds and the expiation of blood by blood.
The Earl was about to call me up to give an account of my part in the
affair, and I was preparing myself to make a good and creditable
appearance--a thing which I have all my life studied to do--when there
was heard a mighty crying in the rear of the Bailzie Court. Men cried
'He comes! He comes!' as though it had been some great one. And
everybody turned their heads, to the no small annoyance of Earl John,
who when on his Hill of Justice loved not that men should look in any
other direction than his own.
The ranks of the men-at-arms opened, and there strode into the square of
trial, which was guarded by the pennons of blue and gold at the four
corners--who but John Mure of Auchendrayne himself, wearing the same
cloak of grey and broad plumed hat which had been his wont when he went
abroad upon dangerous quests! With him was another shorter man, whose
face was for the time being almost hidden, for he had pulled the cloak
he was wearing close about his mouth. He walked with an odd jolt or
roll in his gait, and his breeches were exceedingly broad in the
basement.
It was small wonder that we stood aghast at this sudden compearing of
the arch criminal, whose misdeeds throughout all the countryside had
filled the cup of his wickedness to the brim.
'Seize him!' cried the Earl, pointing directly at John Mure.
And his Bailzie's men took him roughly by the shoulders and set him
beside his son. Then it was to be noticed, as the two stood together,
that there was a great likeness between father and son. The elder man
possessed the same features without any evident differences in outline.
But so informed was his face with intelligence and power, that what was
simply dull cruelty and loutishness in the one became the guile of
statecraft in the other.
'Wherefore, my Lord Earl,' cried John Mure of Auchendrayne, 'is this
violence done to me and to the heir of my house? I demand to know
concerning what we are called in question and by whom?'