And they brought him. He stood forth, much feared indeed, but taking
the matter dourly, like the burly ruffian he was. Nevertheless when put
to the question he denied the rope, and that in spite of all threats of
torture. Yet I could see that the King was greatly shaken in his
opinion, and knew not what to think. For when John Mure drew near to
touch his arm and as before say somewhat in his private ear, the King
drew hastily away and looked at Auchendrayne's hand as though there had
been pollution upon it. So I knew that his opinion was wavering. Also
the poor body in the mother's arms daunted him.
Suddenly he clapped his hands together and became exceedingly joyous and
alert.
'I have it,' he cried, 'the ordeal of touch. It is God's ordinary and
manifest way of vindicating His justice. Here is the dead body of the
slain. Here are all the accused and the accusers. Let it be equally
done. Let all touch the body, for the revealing of the secrets of the
hearts of wicked men.'
Then John Mure laughed and scoffed, saying that it was but a freit, a
foolish opinion, an old wives' fable.
But for all his quirksome guile he had gotten this time very mightily on
the wrong side of the King. For His Majesty was just mad with belief in
such things as omens and miracles of God's providence. So the King
shook him off and said, 'It is my royal will, that all who are tainted
with the matter shall immediately touch or be held guilty.'
And the saying comforted King James, being, as it were, easily pleased
with his own words and plaiks.
So they brought us forward from among the crowd bound as we were, and
first of all I touched fearlessly the poor dead body of the lad. Yet it
was with some strange feeling, though I knew well that I was wholly
innocent. But yet I could not forget that something untoward might
happen, and then good-bye to this fair world and all the pleasant stir
of life within it.
Then after me the Dominie touched--even Marjorie and Nell doing it with
set faces and strange eyes.
It was now the turns of the real murderers, and my heart beat little and
fast to see what should happen.
'Let Auchendrayne the younger touch first, being the more directly
accused!' cried the King.
But James Mure seemed to flame out suddenly distract, like a madman
being taken to Bethlem. He cried out, 'No, no, I will not touch. I
declare that I will not go near him!'
And when John Mure strove to persuade him to it, he struck at him
fiercely with his open hand, leaving the stead of his fingers dead white
upon his father's cheek. And when they took his arm and would have
forced him to it, he threw himself down headlong in the sand, foaming
and crying, 'I will not touch for blood! I will not touch for blood!'
But in spite of his struggling they carried him to where the body lay.
And, all men standing back, they thrust his bare hand sharply upon the
neck where the rope had been.
And, it is true as Scripture, I that write declare (though I cannot
explain) it, out from the open mouth of the lad there sprang a gout of
black and oozy blood.
Whereat a great cry went up and James Mure fell forward oh the sand as
one suddenly stricken dead. All crowded forward to see, crying with one
voice, 'The Judgment of God! The Judgment of God!'
And I shouted too, for I had seen the vindication of justice upon the
murderer. The blood of Abel had cried out of the waste sea sand. The
mark of God was on the guilty.
Then suddenly in the midst of the push I heard a stirring and a
shouting.
'Stop him! stop him!' they cried.
I looked about, and lo! there, sitting erect upon his horse and riding
like fire among heather, was John Mure. He had stolen away while all
eyes were on the marvel. He had passed unregarded through the press, and
now he rode for his life southward along the shore.
I gave one mighty twist to the manacles on my wrists, and whether those
that set them had been kindly, being of my own name and clan, or whether
the gyves were weak, I cannot tell. At all events, my hands were free,
and so, with never a weapon in my possession, I leaped on a horse--the
same, indeed, which the King had been riding--and set it to the gallop
after the man whose death was my life.
It was the maddest, foolishest venture, for doubtless my enemy was well
armed. But I seemed to see my love, and all the endowment of grace and
favour I was to receive with her, vanishing away with every stride of
John Mure's horse. Besides, there was a King and an Earl looking on; so
upon the King's horse I settled down to a long chase.
I was already far forward ere behind me I heard the clatter of mounting
men, the crying to restive horses to stand still, and the other
accompaniments of a cavalcade leaping hastily into the saddle. But when
I looked at John Mure upon his fleet steed, and saw that I upon the
King's horse but scarcely held mine own, I knew that the stopping of the
murderer must be work of mine, if it were to be done at all. So I
resolved to chance it, in spite of whatever armoury of weapons he might
carry.
But first I cleared my feet of the great stirrups which the King used,
so that if it came to the bitter pinch, and I was stricken with a bullet
or pierced with steel, I should not be dragged helpless along the ground
with my foot in the iron, as once or twice I had seen happen in battle.
And that, though an easily memorable, is, I can bear witness, not a
bonny sight.
My charger stretched away as though he had been a beagle running conies
of the down into their holes. But John Mure's horse went every whit as
fast. I saw well that he made for the deep, trackless spaces of
Killochan wood. The oak trees that grew along its edge stretched out
their arms to hide him; the birken shaw waved all its green boughs with
a promise of security. I shortened my grip upon the stout
golden-crowned staff which the King carried at the pommel of his saddle.
Yet as John Mure drave madly towards the wood, and sometimes looked over
his shoulder to see how I came on, I was overjoyed to notice a wide
ditch before him which he must needs overleap--and at that business, if
at no other, I thought to beat him, being slim and of half his weight.
So I kept my horse to the right upon better ground, though it took me a
little out of the straight course for the wood. His horse at the first
refused the leap, and I counted upon him as mine. But I counted too
soon, for he went down the bankside a short way to an easier place,
where there was a landward man's bridge of trees and sods. Here he
easily walked his horse across, and, having mounted the bank, he waved
his hand at me and set off again toward the wood.
But now while he had an uneven country to overpass I had only the green
fields, rich in old pasture and undulating like the waves of an oily
tide when the sea is deep, and there is no break of the water. He was
at the very edge of the wood before I came upon his flank. Then I gave
a loud shout as I set my horse to his speed and circled about to head
him off. But John Mure, though an old man, only settled himself firmer
in his saddle, and with his sword in his hand rode soldierly and
straight at the wood, as though I had not been in front of him at all.
It was wisely enough done, for his heavier beast took mine upon the
shoulder and almost rolled me in the dust. He came upon me, not front to
front as a rider meets his foe in the lists, but, as it were stem to
side, like two boats that meet upon converging tacks.
Yet I managed to avoid him, being light and supple, though he leaned far
over and struck savagely at me as he passed. Again at the third shock
he had almost overridden me and made me die the death. But I had not
practised horsemanship and the art of fighting in the saddle so long for
nothing. Indeed, on all the seaboard of Ayr there was no one that could
compare with me in these things. Therefore, it was easy for me, by dint
of my quickness and skill, to swerve off to the right and receive the
sword stroke in my cloak, which I carried twisted about my left arm.
Then keeping still between the wood and John Mure, I met him this time
face to face, with my eyes watching the direction of his eye and the
crook of his elbow, that I might know where he meant to strike. For a
good sworder knows the enemy's intent, and his blade meets it long ere
thought can pass into action.
So it was no second-sight which told me that he meant to slash me across
the thigh when he came a-nigh me. I knew it or ever his blade was
raised. So that when he struck I was ready for him and measured his
sword, proving my distance as it had been upon parade. And as the blade
whistled by me, I judged that it was my turn, and struck him with all
the force I could muster a crashing blow upon the face with the heavy
butt of the King's stave, which stunned and unsettled him so that he
pitched forward upon his horse, yet not so as to lose his seat.
Nevertheless, owing to the swing of my arm, the stroke fell also partly
upon his horse's back, which affrighted the beast and set him harder
than ever to the running. So that I was passed ere I knew it, and the
wood was won. But I was not thirty yards behind him, and looked to make
the capture ere we reached the further side. And but for a foul trick I
should have done it. It so happens that there is a little hill in the
woods of Killochan, and I, seeing that John Mure was riding about one
side, took round the other, thinking that I had the shorter line of it.
But he, so soon as he saw me make round the corner, turned his horse
into its own hoof-marks and sped away back again--as it had been to meet
them that pursued, but at the same time bearing enough to the south to
clear them easily. So that when I came round the hill I saw no quarry,
and only heard the boughs crashing in his wake.
Nevertheless, without the loss of a moment, I took the line of his
retreat (as I thought), yet not so correctly but that when I issued
forth from the wood I saw him nigh half a mile in front. Again he waved
a contumelious hand which made me so fiercely angry that I tightened my
waist-belt, and vowed to go no more to sunny Culzean if I took not back
the head and hands of John Mure at my saddlebow.
So, with set and determined brow, I rode ever forward. It was the cast
of the die for me, for Nell herself, our life together, and our green
pastures and lavender-scented napery cupboards were all to come out of
the catching of this enemy of our house. It is small wonder therefore
that I was passing keen upon the matter.
Yet, in spite of my endeavours, I gained but little. And it was already
greying to the twilight when I came to a place by the seashore, waste
and solitary, where there were but few houses about. I had seen John
Mure ride in thitherwards. And so I followed him full tilt, reckless of
danger, being weary-heart with the ill-fortune of my riding and quest.
But as I entered the narrows of the pass, a stone flew from an
ambuscade. I felt a hot, stunning blow upon the head, and with the pain
I remember laying hold of my horse's mane and gripping tight with the
hand on which a broken manacle still jangled. Something warm flowed
over my brow, and suddenly I saw everything red, as though I had been
looking through the stained glass of some ancient kirk--red flowers, red
grass, red sand, and red sea.
That was all I saw, and I do not remember even falling to the ground.
*CHAPTER XLVII*
*THE PLACE OF THE LEGION OF DEVILS*
When I woke it was exceedingly dark, but a darkness with shooting lights
and hideous sounds. At the first start I thought that I was dead and in
the place of torment. And when I grew a little more awake, I wished to
God that I had been. For all about were swart naked men and
harpy-clawed women dancing round me, while on a cask or keg at my head
sat John Mure himself, wrapped in his cloak and regarding me with
gloating, baleful, bloodshot eyes.
Then I knew that I was lost indeed. For by the flickering light of a
dying fire of driftwood I could see that I was again in the cave of
Sawny Bean, in the same wide hall with the strange narrow hams a-swing
on the roof, the tubs of salt meat festering under the eaves, and the
wild savage crew dancing about me.
What wonder that my heart fainted within me to be thus left alone in
that den of hideous things, and especially to think of the free birds
going to their beds on the cliffs above me and the fishing solan geese
circling and balancing home to the lonely rock of Ailsa.
'Ha, Sir Launcelot Kennedy,' said a mocking voice, as the deafening
turmoil quieted a little, 'you are near your honours now--that is, if
there be such bauble dignities either in heaven or hell. The Treasure
of Kelwood in hand, John Mure's life out of hand--and there on the shelf
(as it were) are your broad acres and your bonny lady!'
I was silent, for I knew that nothing could avail me now. It was
useless to waste words.
'But ere all that comes to pass,' he went on, 'there are sundry little
formalities to be gone through.--Oh, we are right dainty folk here in
Sawny Bean's mansion. You shall be kept warm and cherished tenderly.
There are here twenty sonsier queans than the one whose heart you
desire. Warmly shall they welcome, sweetly shall they cherish handsome
Sir Launcelot. Their embracements shall sting you more than all
sweethearting raptures.'
Again he pauses to observe the effect of his words.
'You that so lately held me in chase, like a steer that has escaped from
the shambles. Now you yourself are in the thills. You that have
crossed me a thousand times in my plans since that frore night in Sir
Thomas Nesbitt's yard in Maybole, you shall now be crossed in a new
fashion. You that wagged tongue so merrily at another's expense, you
shall see your tongue wag upon the redhot brander to an unkenned tune.
'You that have ridden so fast and so far, you shall ride your last
ride--ride slowly, very slowly,' cried the fiend in my ear, 'for I shall
hoard every drop of your blood as John of Cassillis hoards his gold rose
nobles. I shall husband every minute of your life, as though they were
the hours of young bridal content.
'Ye have bruised my old face indeed with your oaken staff, but I will
cherish yours, that is youthful and blooming. Tenderly shall we take
off the coverture of hide, the tegument of beauty. Sawny Bean has
famous skill in such surgery. Gently will we lay you down in the
swarming nest of the patient ant. We have read how Scripture bids the
sluggard go to the ant, for if that makes him not lively, nothing will.
I have ofttimes commented on the passage at family worship. And I must
see that the young and headstrong, like you, my Lord Launcelot, give
heed to that which is commanded.'
But in spite of all his terrible threatenings, I bode still and answered
him never a word. They laid logs of driftwood upon the fire, till the
whole inside of the cave grew bright and clear; and all the monstrous
deformity of the women and the cruel hideousness of the men were made
apparent as in broad daylight. Some of them were painted and stained
like demons, and danced and leaped through the fire like them, too. For
such monsters have not been heard of, much less seen, in the history of
any country as were Sawny Bean and his crew in the cave upon the
seashore of Bennanbrack.
'Bring me a knife,' cried John Mure from where he sat, for he appeared
like a chief devil among a company of gibbering lubber fiends. He had
still his grey cloak about him. His plumed hat was upon his head, and
he looked, save for the eyes of him in which the fires of hell burned, a
civil, respectable, well-put-on man of means and substance. As, indeed,
save for his evil heart he might have been, for he came of as good a
family as the Earl of Cassillis, or, as it might be, as I myself,
Launcelot Kennedy of Kirrieoch.
So when Auchendrayne asked for a knife, Sawny Bean himself, the ruffian
kemper, low-browed, buck-toothed, and inhuman, brought it to him with a
grin. He made as if he would have set it in me to the hilt. But John
Mure stayed him.
'Bide,' he said, 'not so fast. There is long and sweet pleasuring to
come before that--such slow, relishing delight, such covetous mouseplay
of the brindled cat, such luxurious tiger-licking of the delicate skin
till it be raw, such well-conceited dainty torments as when one would
bite his love and be glad of it. He shall taste them all, this frolic
squire of errant-dames, this gamesome player upon pipes, this curious
handler of quaint love tunes. Ere we pluck the red rose of his life, he
shall sate himself with new delicious experience--rarer than the
handling of many maidens' tresses.'