"You have been less than kind to her."
Stephen felt the color rising at the back of his neck. "I didn't know,
until a few days ago."
"And how do you feel towards her now?"
"That's none of your affair!" he cried, whirling angrily. He would
have advanced, but Michael straightened and pointed the gun squarely
at his chest.
"That's enough. Save your anger for the digging." The other relented,
but did not turn away.
"Very well," continued Michael. "I will assume from the heat of your
answer that you care for her, and perhaps are not altogether happy
that she has been locked away."
"Why in Hell do you think I'm here?" he snapped. "You bloody savages
think you're the only ones to stand up for something? I stood up for
Mary, and look what became of it." He threw down the shovel in
disgust. "Do you think I'm glad at what's happened? I promised to
protect her! My father will pay
for what he's done to me."
Michael watched the younger man's face intently, searching for any
sign of deceit. He found none.
It seemed almost too good to be true. Not only might this man's
emotions be turned toward freeing the women. . .but by all appearances
he was as shallow and guileless as his father was deep and cunning.
But he knew better than to hope too much, or to show his true
feelings, at all.
"Well. Leaving `bloody savages' aside for the moment, perhaps we are
not as far apart as I feared." He lowered the weapon, leaned back
against the tree. "Calm yourself, and perhaps we can talk as
reasonable men.
"All right," he continued. "Here, then, is what I'm offering. Your
freedom, in exchange for the safe deliverance of Mary and the widow
Scott. In this you may serve me as ally, or hostage. The choice is
yours."
"If you want them back," said Stephen, "then let me go now. Give me
Stubb's horse, and a weapon to protect myself. All I have to do is
reach Earl Arthur, and tell him my story. My father will lose all
power over their fate, and a good many other things as well."
"You will forgive me," replied Michael, "if I am not as confident of
English justice as you are. After they are rescued, you may do what
you like to hurt your father. Not before."
Stephen looked hard at him, first in anger, then in disbelief.
"You're not serious. You can't expect to win them from the Tower by
stealth? It's over two hundred feet high. Inside the castle are scores
of armed soldiers, with a thousand more garrisoned less than two miles
away. We don't even know which cell they're in, or if they're still
together."
Michael grimaced, releasing a heavy breath. Though in his heart he
knew the grim realities, to hear them spoken was still disquieting.
"I do not say it will be easy, or without danger. I only know that
between you and I. . .we've got to find a way." He stiffened. "Look at
me, Purceville, square in the eye. As you love your sister, and on
your word as an Englishman, will you help me to free her? For I tell
you, in the eyes of God we can do no less."
Stephen did not answer at first, but stood returning his captor's firm
gaze. "Why do you ask me to swear as an Englishman? What makes you
think any promise will bind me?"
"Because I know that's important to you. And because I believe that in
spite of yourself, deep down, you are an honorable man." The other
turned away. "Listen
to me. Sooner or later you've got to choose between good and evil,
right and wrong. There's no middle ground. And the line between them's
got nothing to do with country, or birthright, but the way a man acts
in the role, the place he's been given. I'm asking you now, not as a
Highlander to a Red-coat, a commoner to nobility, or any other
distinction you care to draw. I'm asking you as a man, to another man.
Won't you help me, in what we both know is right?"
"You're very naive."
"No. God damn it, Purceville, listen! No man has greater reason to
hate and mistrust than I have. You've taken everything: my youth, my
health, my home, and now the only ones I love in all the world. But I
refuse
to hate you. I refuse to stoop so low, to believe in so little, to
sell my honor and my hope for that bastard emotion. There is no
greater defiance than that.
"Think! Have you never loved someone you should have hated? Or held on
to something you were told you must surrender? We share the same
needs, the worst of us, as we share the same flesh. Stephen. You and
I, we've got
to trust each other. We've got to get them out."
"While you hold the gun, and I dig the grave?"
"No." Michael opened his coat, and tucked the pistol once more beneath
his belt. "Come back to the house with me now---don't try anything
foolish---and I'll find you something to eat. By rights I should dig
this grave myself."
"And the horse?"
"I will use it to bear the body, and keep it close to me at all times.
I said trust, Stephen, not stupidity. Trust isn't blind, any more than
faith is, if it's real."
"Faith in what? In God? You're dreaming."
"Call it God, or Life, or anything else you like. I haven't given up
on it. Because no matter how close I've come to it, Death has never
had the final word. My flesh still lives, and therefore my hope. Maybe
I am dreaming. But without dreams a man's got nothing, nothing at
all."
Stephen looked down, undecided.
"So what's to keep me from walking out, except the threat of a shot in
the back?"
"I won't shoot you. If you want to walk out into hostile country, a
wanted man, that's up to you. But I wouldn't give a ha'penny for your
life, if you run afoul of that man Ballard. At least you know, or you
should, that I'm an honorable man."
"You speak of honor," said Stephen, "and trust. And yet you won't even
tell me your name. Don't I deserve that much?"
"I will tell you that when we have set them free, along with anything
else you like. I don't ask you to understand that, just accept it.
Anonymity is my one defense. That's the way it is."
... "I need time to think," said Stephen finally.
"And you shall have it. After I finish here I've got a long ride ahead
of me, to make preparations. You shall have most of the day. But
whatever you decide, we must be gone from here tonight. If I know
human nature, your Ballard won't send anyone to relieve his comrade,
or come himself, till tomorrow at least. Be we can't take that
chance."
"And what if he comes back today? You're not going to bind me, and
leave me here without a weapon?"
"I'm not going to bind you at all. As for a weapon, you've got
surprise. And you've got something far more lethal. The human mind,
and will to survive, are not to be underestimated." He shaded his eyes
and looked up, saw the sun already approaching the noon. "Enough of
this. You've got to eat, and then think. I've got to work."
Without further speech, they set out for the cottage. But as Stephen
passed the grave of Michael Scott, he could not help but wonder at the
identity of his worn but indomitable deliverer. And looking back to
the place where Stubb would lie, who but a day before had walked and
breathed, been proud, and stubborn, and afraid like himself, he felt a
cold shudder run through him.
For he, too, had been given a taste of Death.