Archie could hardly believe that his eyesight had not deceived him. It
seemed impossible that Marjory, whom he deemed a hundred miles away, in
his castle at Aberfilly, should be here in the town of Berwick, and yet
when he thought it over he saw that it might well be so.
There was indeed ample time for her to have made the journey two or
three times, while he had been lying in prison at Port-Patrick awaiting
a ship. She would be sure, when the news reached her of his capture,
that he would be taken to Edward at Carlisle, and that he would be
either executed there or at Berwick. It was then by no means
impossible, strange and wondrous as it appeared to him, that Marjory
should be in Berwick.
She was attired in the garment of a peasant woman of the better class,
such as the wife of a small crofter or farmer. Remembering that she had
saved his life before at Dunstaffnage, Archie felt that she had come
hither to try to rescue him.
Archie's heart beat with delight, and his eyes filled with tears at the
devotion and courage of Marjory. For the first time since he had been
hurried into the boat on the night of his capture, a feeling of hope
entered his breast.
Momentary as the glance had been which he had obtained of the face of
Marjory's companion, Archie had perceived that it was in some way
familiar to him. In vain he recalled the features of the various
servants at Aberfilly, and those of the wives and daughters of the
retainers of the estate; he could not recognize the face of the woman
accompanying Marjory as belonging to any of them.
His wife might, indeed, have brought with her some one from the estates
at Ayr whom she had known from a child, but in that case Archie could
not account for his knowledge of her. This, however, did not occupy his
mind many minutes; it was assuredly one whom Marjory trusted, and that
was sufficient for him. Then his thoughts turned wholly to his wife.
Anyone who had noticed the prisoner's manner for the last few days would
have been struck with the change which had come over it. Hitherto he
had stood, often for hours, leaning motionless, with his arms crossed,
in the corner of his cage, with head bent down and listless air, his
thoughts only being busy. Now he paced restlessly up and down his
narrow limits, two steps each way and then a turn, like a caged beast.
His hands were clenched, his breast heaved, his breath came fast, his
head was thrown back; often he brushed his hand across his eyes, and
rapid words came from his lips.
The sun sank. An hour later a jailer brought his jug of water and piece
of bread, and then, without a word, retired, leaving, as usual, the door
into the cell open, but carefully locking and barring the inner door.
Archie had a longer walk now, from the front of the cage to the back of
the cell, and for three hours he paced up and down.