I FALL IN WITH STRANGE FRIENDS
I lay there, still with fright and anxiety, while the wind roared around
my hiding-place, and the noise of the horses' feet came to my ears. My
first thought was to rush out and meet them, engage the company and get
the letter back by force. But a moment's reflection convinced me that
this was equal to rushing on my death. There was nothing for it but to
bide where I was, and pray that I might not be discovered.
The noise grew louder, and the harsh voices of the men echoed in the
little glen. I lay sweating with fear and I know not what foreboding,
as I heard the clatter of hooves among the slates and the heavy tread of
those who had dismounted and were searching every tuft of heather. I
know not to this day how I escaped. It may be that their eyes were
blinded with mist and rain; it may be that my hiding-place was securer
than I thought, for God knows I had no time to choose it; it may be that
their search was but perfunctory, since they had got the letter; it may
be that they thought in their hearts that I had escaped ever the back of
Caerdon and searched only to satisfy their leader. At any rate, in a
little all was still, save for the sound of distant voices, and with
vast caution and great stiffness of body I drew myself from the hole.
I have rarely felt more utterly helpless and downcast. I had saved my
skin, but only by a hairbreadth, and in the saving of it I had put the
match to my fortunes. For that luckless letter gave the man into whose
hands it might fall a clue to Marjory's whereabouts. It is true that the
thing was slight, but still it was there, and 'twas but a matter of time
till it was unravelled. All was up with me. Now that I was thus
isolated on Caerdon and the far western ridges of the Tweedside hills I
could have little hope of getting free, for to return to safety I must
cross either Holmes Water, which was guarded like a street, or the lower
Tweed, which, apart from the fact that it was in roaring flood, could no
more be passed by me than the gates of Edinburgh. But I give my word it
was not this that vexed me; nay, I looked forward to danger, even to
capture, with something akin to hope. But the gnawing anxiety gripped
me by the throat that once more my poor lass would be exposed to the
amenities of my cousin, and her easy, quiet life at Smitwood shattered
forever. An unreasoning fit of rage took me, and I dashed my foot on
the heather in my hopeless vexation. I cursed every soldier, and damned
Gilbert to the blackest torments which my heart could conjure.
But rage, at the best, is vain and I soon ceased. It was indeed high
time that I should be bestirring myself. I could not stay where I was,
for in addition to being without food or decent shelter, I was there on
the very confines of the most dangerous country. Not two miles to the
north from the place where I lay the hills ceased, and the low-lying
central moorlands succeeded, which, as being a great haunt of the more
virulent Whigs, were watched by many bands of dragoons. If my life were
to be saved I must get back once more to the wild heights of the upper
Tweed.
I climbed the gully and, keeping lower down the hill, made for the
mountain, named Coulter Fell, which is adjacent to Caerdon. I know not
why I went this way, save through a fantastic idea of getting to the
very head of the Holmes Water and crossing there. Every step I took led
me into more perilous ground, for it took me farther to the westward.
It was my sole chance, and in the teeth of the wind I wrestled on over
the long heather and grey sklidders, slipping and stumbling with
weariness and dispirit. Indeed I know not if anything could have
sustained me save the motto of my house, which came always to my mind.
_Virescit vulnere virtus_! The old proud saw cheered my heart
wondrously. I shall not shame my kin, said I to myself; it shall never
be said that misfortune did aught to one of my name save raise his
valour.
When I reached the head of the ridge I thought that the way was clear
before me and that I had outdistanced my pursuers. I stood up boldly on
the summit and looked down on the Holmes Water head. The next minute I
had flung myself flat again and was hastening to retrace my steps. For
this was what I saw. All up the stream at irregular intervals dragoons
were beating the heather in their quest for me. Clearly they thought
that I had made for the low ground. Clearly, also, there was no hope of
escape in that quarter.
With a heavy heart I held along the bald face of the great Coulter Fell.
I know no more heartless mountain on earth than that great black scarp,
which on that day flung its head far up into the mist. The storm, if
anything, had increased in fury. Every now and then there came a burst
of sharp hail, and I was fain to shelter for a moment by lying on the
earth. Very circumspectly I went, for I knew not when through the wall
of mist a gleam of buff coats or steel might meet me. In such a
fashion, half-creeping, half running, I made my way down the hills which
flank the Coulter Water, and came at length to the range of low hills
which look down upon Biggar and the lowlands of Clyde.
I struggled to the top and looked over into the misty haughs. The day
was thick, yet not so thick that I could not see from this little
elevation the plain features of the land below. I saw the tail trees of
Coulter House and the grey walls and smoking chimney. Beyond was the
road, thick in mud, and with scarce a traveller. All seemed quiet, and
as I looked a wild plan came into my head. Why should I not go through
the very den of the lion? What hindered me from going down by the marsh
of Biggar and the woods of Rachan, and thence to my hiding-place? It
was the high roads that were unwatched in these days, and the byways
which had each their sentinel.
But as I looked again the plan passed from my mind. For there below,
just issuing from the gateway of Coulter House, I saw a man on
horseback, and another, and still another. I needed no more. A glance
was sufficient to tell me their character and purport. Gilbert verily
had used his brains to better advantage than I had ever dreamed of. He
had fairly outwitted me, and the three airts of north and south and west
were closed against me.
There still remained the east, and thither I turned. I was shut in on a
triangle of hill and moorland, some three miles in length and two in
breadth. At the east was the spur of hill at the foot of the Holmes
Water and above the house of Rachan. If I went thither I might succeed
in crossing the breadth of the valley and win to the higher hills. It
was but a chance, and in my present weakness I would as soon have laid
me down on the wet earth and gone to sleep. But I forced myself to go
on, and once more I battled with the snell weather.
I do not very well remember how I crossed the Kilbucho glen, and
stumbled through the maze of little streams and sheep drains which cover
all the place. I had no more stomach for the work than an old dog has
for coursing. To myself I could give no reason for my conduct save a
sort of obstinacy which would not let me give in. At a place called
Blendewing I lay down on my face and drank pints of water from the
burn--a foolish action, which in my present condition was like to prove
dangerous. In the pine-wood at the back of the shieling I laid me down
for a little to rest, and when once more I forced myself to go on, I was
as stiff as a ship's figure-head. In this state I climbed the little
hills which line the burn, and came to the limit of the range above the
place called Whiteslade.
It was now about two o'clock in the afternoon, and the storm, so far
from abating, grew every moment in fierceness. I began to go hot and
cold all over alternately, and the mist-covered hills were all blurred
to my sight like a boy's slate. Now, by Heaven, thought I, things are
coming at last to a crisis. I shall either die in a bog-hole, or fall
into my cousin's hands before this day is over. A strange perverted joy
took possession of me. I had nothing now to lose, my fortunes were so
low that they could sink no farther; I had no cause to dread either
soldier or weather. And then my poor silly head began to whirl, and I
lost all power of anticipation.
To this day I do not know how I crossed the foot of the Holmes
valley--for this was what I did. The place was watched most jealously,
for Holmes Mill was there, and the junction of the roads to the upper
Tweed and the moors of Clyde. But the thing was achieved, and my next
clear remembrance is one of crawling painfully among the low birk
trees-and cliffs on the far side of the Wormel. My knees and hands were
bleeding, and I had a pain in my head so terrible that I forgot all
other troubles in this supreme one.
It was now drawing towards evening. The grey rain-clouds had become
darker and the shadows crept over the sodden hills. All the world was
desert to me, where there was no shelter. Dawyck and Barns were in the
hands of the enemy. The cave of the Cor Water was no more. I had
scarce strength to reach my old hiding-place in the hags above Scrape,
and if I did get there I had not the power to make it habitable. A
gravelled and sanded couch with a heathery roof is pleasant enough in
the dry weather, but in winter it is no better than a bog-hole.
Nevertheless I slid down the hill as best I could and set myself to
crossing the valley. It was half-filled with water pools which the
flood had left, and at the far side I saw the red, raging stream of
Tweed. I remember wondering without interest whether I should ever win
over or drown there. It was a matter of little moment to me. The fates
had no further power to vex me.
But ere I reached the hillfoot I saw something which gave me pause,
reckless though I had come to be. On the one hand there was a glimpse
of men coming up the valley--mounted men, riding orderly as in a troop.
On the other I saw scattered soldiers dispersing over the haughland.
The thought was borne in upon me that I was cut off at last from all
hope of escape. I received the tidings with no fear, scarcely with
surprise. My sickness had so much got the better of me that though the
heavens had opened I would not have turned my head to them. But I still
staggered on, blindly, nervelessly, wondering in my heart how long I
would keep on my feet.
But now in the little hollow I saw something before me, a glimpse of
light, and faces lit by the glow. I felt instinctively the near presence
of men. Stumbling towards it I went, groping my way as if I were
blindfold. Then some great darkness came over my brain and I sank on
the ground.