stroking down occasionally the sleek back of Bess, and at times
muttering somewhat irreverent expressions of impatience against David
and his customers. At last the door opened.
"They dinna need ye," said David; "Jehu will do their business, though
it's clear they're pursued. They're for Berwick, and intend travellin a'
nicht. She's a bonny cratur, man; sae young and guileless, and yet sae
fond o' the wark, that she wad hae been doin wi' ae witness, to save the
time o' gettin anither. As for him, I can see naething o' him for
whiskers, the cause, I fear, o' a' the mischief. It's a Chancery touch,
doubtless. They're for aff this minute. Five guineas, Mike--ha! ha!"
(shutting the door.)
"Five guineas," muttered Maxwell, imitating David's laugh, "and naething
for me. Come, Bess, and let us try what our Scottish cunning may do
against English treachery. It has filled our purse afore, and I dinna
see how it shouldna do't again. If they winna hae us as guides, they
canna refuse us (that is, Bess, if your heels keep, as they say, the
spur o' your head) as followers; and I hae made as muckle i' the ae
capacity as the ither. Come, lass" (throwing himself in the saddle, and
clapping her sleek neck as she tossed her head in the air), "come--hark!
the wheels row--awa--but whip or spur--awa--we'll try baith their mettle
and metal."
As he finished these words, he dashed down the lane, the foot of which
he reached just as the carriage containing the buckled lovers passed, at
the top of the speed of their spurred horses. It was clear they were
afraid of pursuit, and were hastening on to Berwick, to take shipping
for the Continent, the usual retreat of all runaway lovers passing
through Gretna. Confiding in the abilities of Bess, Mike allowed the
carriage to proceed onwards for half-a-mile before he seriously took the
way, as he did not wish to be observed following it so near to the
village. He kept moving in the middle of the road, reining in Bess, who,
having been gratified by the noise of the carriage-wheels, pricked up
her ears, pawed the ground, and capered from side to side. Roused by the
sound of a strange voice, he started and turned round.
"You've time yet, man," cried Giles Baldwin, a Cumberland man, whose arm
Mike had broken at a wrestling-match the year before, and whose suit to
Alice Parker he had strangled by her consent. "But her going's like a
Scotsman running from an Englishman over the Borders. Were my arm whole,
I'd lead Bess's head to the follow. Away, man, or the booty's lost, like
the field o' Flodden, before it is won."
"Ye've anither arm to brak, Giles," said Mike, in a low voice. "A craven
has nae richt to be impudent till a' his banes are cracked, and then,
like the serpent, he may bend and spit his venom. I'll see ye at the
next match at Carlisle, and let ye feel the strength o' the grip o'
friendship and kind remembrance. Tell Alice, as ye pass Netherwood, that
I'm awa after a carriage, to show a couple the way to Berwick. Marriages
beget marriages, they say; and she'll maybe tak ye, to be neebor-like,
and to get quit o' me, against whom ye hae tried to poison her ear."
Saying these words, Mike bounded away; and gave the Cumberland man no
opportunity of replying, otherwise than by bawling out some further
impertinence about his successful rival's expectation of booty from the
expedition in which he was engaged.
"If I had been to put mysel within the reach o' the arm o' the law,"
muttered Mike to himself, as he moved rapidly along, "this man's
impudence micht hae scared me and saved me; but, thanks to Lewie
Threshum, the writer o' Dumfries, I ken what I'm about. I can wring a
man, in wrestling, to within an inch o' his life; and cut so close by an
act o' parliament, that the leaves o't move by the wind o' my flight.
Nae fiscal dare speak to me, sae lang as my Scottish cunning does
justice to Threshum's counsel, and my arm defends me against a' ithers.
Stretch on, guid Bess, and let me hae twa words wi' the happy couple."
The spirited animal increased her speed, and, in a short time,
approached the carriage, which continued to whirl along with great
rapidity. A series of quick bounds brought Mike alongside of it. He now
saw that the blinds were still up, and the driver so intent upon
propelling his horses forward, that he did not know that any one was in
pursuit, while the noise of the vehicle prevented the possibility of
hearing the soft pattering of Bess's heels. Taking the point of his
whip, Mike gave a slight and knowing tap on the carriage-blind, like the
announcement of an expected lover. A noise, as of sudden fright and
agitation, followed from within.
"A's richt," muttered Mike to himself.
But the blinds were still kept up. He paced on a little further, and,
seeing that no answer was returned to his application, repeated the rap
a little louder than before.
"Who's there?" cried a rough voice.
"A friend," answered Mike.
"What is your name?" said the other, evidently in agitation.
"I never gie my name through closed doors," answered Mike; "and sae lang
as ane acts within the law, there's nae use for imitatin the ways o'
jail birds. My name, however, is no unlike your lady's maiden ane--an
admission I mak through sheer courtesy and guid manners, and respect for
her worthy faither."
The blind was taken down hurriedly, and a face covered with a great
profusion of curly black hair presented itself. Mike drew down his hat,
so as to cover his face, and, clapping Bess on the neck, paced along at
great ease. After trying to scan his countenance, the gentleman seemed
at a great loss.
"What is it, sir, that you wish with me?" said he, "or what is your
object in thus disturbing peaceable travellers by legal turnpikes?"
"I beg your pardon," replied Mike. "The night is dark, and the road
lonely; I thought ye micht hae wished a companion--sma' thanks for my
courtesy. The gentlemen in the carriage that's comin up behind, at a
speed greater than yours, ken better what is due to Scottish civility. I
accompanied them a space, and enjoyed their conversation. They're in
search o' twa Gretna fugitives, and wished me to assist them in the
pursuit. I'm sorry I left them, seein I hae forgathered wi' ithers wha
dinna appreciate fully my motives. I think I canna do better than ask
Bess to slacken her pace, and bring me again to the enjoyment o' their
society and conversation."
A suppressed scream from a female within followed this speech. The
gentleman withdrew his head, to assist the lady; the coachman looked
round, and was inclined to halt; but the words, "Drive on!" rang in his
ears, and he obeyed. Mike calmly kept his course, clapping Bess's neck
occasionally, and pretending not to notice the agitation and confusion
within the carriage, where it seemed as if the lady had gone off in a
faint. After some time, the same whiskered face appeared at the
carriage-window.
"Hark ye, friend," said he, in an agitated tone; "you're a Scotchman, I
presume, and must be _up_, as we say in London. What would you take to
put the gentlemen in the other carriage _off the scent_?"
"What scent?" asked Mike, gravely.
"The scent of the couple they're after," said the other. "Could you not
stimulate their noses with a red herring drag? Don't understand me? Hey,
man, quick! What say ye?"
"I understand ye," answered Mike, "mair easily than I can assist ye, I
fear. The hounds ken their track owre weel. They're for Berwick direct;
but a Scotchman micht maybe send them scamperin to Newcastle--I mean
that is possible, barely possible."
"Well, well!--what say ye?" replied the other. "Name your sum. Come,
quick!"
"Let me see," said Mike; "by returnin, I may lose the market--a dead
loss o' twenty pound, at least. Gie me that, and I'll answer for their
being twenty miles on their way to Newcastle by the time ye're twenty
miles on to Berwick."
"Here, here, then," said the gentleman, holding out his hand.
Mike met him half-way, and received a handful of guineas, among which
was a ring.
"Keep yersel and the braw leddy easy," said he, as he put the money into
his pocket. "Drive on, my lad" (to the driver), "and, if ye keep aff the
Newcastle road, ye'll no fa' into the hands o' the chancellor."
With these words, Mike drew up Bess's head, turned, and sauntered slowly
back to Gretna, gratifying his humour by a few words of soliloquy.
"But whar is the coach, wi' its contents, I was to send on to Newcastle?
A principle o' honesty I hae aboot me maks me almost wish for an
opportunity o' fulfillin my promise; but a' I undertook to insure was
safety, and if they hae safety ony way, they get value for their siller;
so, after a', I'm nae cheat. But here's anither coach drivin at deil's
speed."
"Holloa! sirrah!" cries a person from the window; "met you a carriage on
your way, driving quickly, and with closed blinds, towards Berwick?"
"You'll no likely find what ye want atween this and Berwick," replied
Mike. "But I dinna wonder at your speed; I could almost wish to flee
after her mysel. Sweet cratur!--she maun be fond o' whiskers."
"Then you have met the carriage!" cried the man, with great vehemence,
quickened by the concluding remark of Mike. "Quick, quick--tell us where
they are, and whither going. We lose time."
"I lose nane," replied Mike; "I'm saunterin at ony rate, thinkin o' my
poverty; are o' the very warst o' a' subjects o' mortal meditation."
"Will money drag a direct answer from you, sir?" cried the man.
"No; but it will draw it out o' me as smoothly as oil," replied Mike.
"Here, then," said the other, handing him some--"will that satisfy you?"
"Double it," said Mike, "and I'll halve your labour."
The eagerness of the pursuers forced a ready compliance.
"The lady and gentleman you are in quest o'," said Mike, "hae changed
their minds, and are on to Newcastle. They gave out Berwick as a
decoy--an hour's ridin will bring ye up to them. But, hark ye! I have
acted honourably by you--you maun do the same by me; and, therefore,
when ye come up to the fugitives, ye will act discreetly, and say
naething o' your informer. A nod's as guid's a wink----ye ken the rest."
The pursuers took no time to reply, but flew off at full speed to
Newcastle, while Mike sought, at his ease, his mother's house, at a
little distance from Gretna. About two hours after he arrived, a loud
knock came to the door. Mike himself opened it.
"Is your name Mike Maxwell?" said a man habited like a sheriff-officer.
"It is," said Mike; "and wha in thae parts doesna ken me, either by grip
or sicht?"
"It's by the first I get my acquaintance o' folk," said the officer, as
he seized his prisoner. "I apprehend ye in the name o' the king, for
highway robbery, committed on a lady and gentleman bound for Berwick."
Maxwell threw himself back, and, freeing himself from the grasp of the
man, laid him, by one blow, at his feet. His humour was gratified; and,
laughing boisterously, he lifted the messenger from the ground.
"That was merely for your impudence," said Mike. "I'm owre confident o'
innocence, either to fecht or flee. A present is nae robbery--they gied
me what I got o' their ain free-will and accord; and, if this is the way
they tak to get their gifts back again, I can only say that the presents
o' the English to the Scotch are like their blows--weel returned."
"Then you admit having the property of the lady and gentleman," said a
second officer, who, attended by a concurrent, now came up. "We must
search you."
"There's nae occasion for that," said Mike; "there's the guineas and the
ring."
"But where is the portmanteau and the papers?" said the officer, as he
took the gold. "Search the house, Jem, while we hold him; the hen's no
far off when the chicken whistles."
The man searched the house. Mike looked surprised and confused, and
suspected they had mistaken their man. He told them he had taken no
portmanteau, and expressed total ignorance of what they meant. The men
only laughed at him; they had got a damning evidence against him
already--the ring, which had carved on it the initials "C. B." (Charles
Beachum), the individual who had been robbed; and they did not require
to hesitate an instant about his apprehension. They therefore carried
him direct to Dumfries Jail.
Next morning, the news had spread far and wide that Mike Maxwell had
been apprehended for highway robbery; he and another individual,
unknown, having, on the previous night, attacked a travelling-carriage,
knocked down the driver, wounded the gentleman, frightened the lady, and
carried off a portmanteau filled with valuable articles, and
particularly many important documents, together with the gentleman's
diamond ring (which had been found on Maxwell's person), and other
things of great value. On being examined, Maxwell thought it best to
tell (with a slight exception) the truth; that he had followed the
carriage to inform the runaway couple that they were pursued, and had
received the money and the ring for undertaking to disappoint their
pursuers. He kept the secret to himself, that when he got the money he
did not know, certainly, that there were any persons in pursuit, and had
therefore obtained it on false pretences; but, even with this prudent
qualification, his examination was held to be just as complete an
admission of the highway robbery as any criminal ever uttered, under the
excitement of fear or the promise of pardon. The great desideratum was
the portmanteau, which the robbers had carried off; and this, by the
request of Captain Beachum, who had left instructions to that effect at
the next inn, as he proceeded onwards, was searched for by many
individuals, under promise of a very high reward.
About two hours after his examination, Maxwell was told that a young
woman wished to get in to see him. He knew at once who it was; and the
jailer, who was an old acquaintance, permitted her to enter.
"The secret that is denied to true love," said Alice, as she stood
before Mike, looking at him sorrowfully and dignifiedly, "is sometimes
told to the king. You hate my country, yet an Englishwoman would have
saved you, if your confidence had been equal to the love you have
expressed for me. When I asked you how you lived, you told me that a
lover requires little food. How much, Mike Maxwell, does a prisoner
within these walls either require or get? What avails your Scottish
cunning now, and how much does it transcend English honesty? But, thank
heaven, I have made a narrow escape! What would your strength, your fair
face, and manly bearing, which have made such conquests at our country
games, have yielded me of pride or pleasure, if I had been wedded to a
_robber_? Is it possible that that word and Mike Maxwell claim
kindred?--that Alice Parker, who treasured up your image in her bosom
as a sacred thing, or a charm against the evil eye, should this day be
doomed to the pain of saying that that hateful word and the name of her
heart's choice are one and the same? Miserable hour!"
"Alice," replied Maxwell, "I did you injustice. I should have confided
everything to your bosom; but I didna require to pollute that pure
casket wi' the confidence o' a robber. I am nae robber--the first man
wha said the word was laid in an instant at my feet, and sae should a'
slanderers be served. I defy Scotland and England to prove Mike Maxwell
a robber."
"The ring you have given up to the sheriff," said Alice, "is proof
against you."
"Ha, Alice," replied Mike, laughing, "rings are dangerous things. Was
the ane I got frae you, wi' a plait o' that raven hair in't, a sign o'
robbery?"
"Would to heaven that it had been such a sign!" said the maiden; "I
would not then have had to lament this miserable hour, and this dreadful
night." (Pausing.) "But can it be, Mike, that you are so hardened in
vice that you can laugh in a jail?"
"And why no, my love, if ane is innocent?" replied Maxwell. "I am
indebted for this apprehension to some enemy--probably my rival, Giles
Baldwin--who has got up a story about a portmanteau that never was
stolen; and my honesty in confessin that I got the ring frae the
gentleman for puttin the English beagles wha pursued him aff the scent,
has gien the lee some colour o' truth. Conscious as I am o' my
innocence, I am determined to keep up my spirits, laugh at my enemies
till I get out, and then mak game o' their banes, by giein them joints
whar nature never intended them to be."
"You have often, in playfulness, mocked me, Mike," answered she, "and
turned the inquiries of my love into questions to myself, by the force
of your Scottish humour; but I bear faith that you never told me a lie.
Yet, when I think of the mystery of your life, your secresy, the strange
way in which you left me last night, to make after the carriage, your
admission concerning the ring, and many other circumstances, I must also
admit that my heart is not satisfied. I cannot help it. Even my love,
unbounded as it is, does not enable me to vanquish a cold feeling that,
like the shivering of an ague, creeps over my skin. I cannot say I
_disbelieve_ you; but oh, what would I not give for _proof_ to still
this restless aching heart!" (Pausing.) "That proof, Mike, I _shall_
have. The unpretending Englishwoman, whose counsel the wily Scotchman
despised, shall now try to redeem the character of her countrywomen, and
show that love and honesty are stronger than wiles and secresy."
"Weel said, heroine Alice!" cried Mike, still laughing. "Ye intend to
mak me guilty, to increase the glory o' your efforts to save me; but,
thanks to the laws o' our country, there's nae great merit in savin an
innocent man. I defy a' my faes, and wad prefer a kiss o' my bonny
Alice" (clasping her to his bosom), "to a' her noble endeavours to do
that which innocence itsel will do for her lover."
"We stand at present on a _new_ footing, Mike," said she, as she
struggled to get free, and retired back. "I must have my _proof_. Till
then, farewell!"
"Noble wench!" said Mike, as she departed. "However I may dislike her
suspicions, I canna but admire her guidness and spirit. But Lewie
Threshum will goon blaw awa this cloud, wi' the wind o' the leaves o'
Stair or Mackenzie, and a' will shine bright again on Alice Parker and
Mike Maxwell."
The views and feelings of Alice were very different: she suspected her
lover, and the thought was death to her; yet her native nobility of soul
urged her to the task of draining every source of evidence to prove his
innocence. She called on Lewis Threshum, who had undertaken Mike's
defence, and learned from him, what pained her to the uttermost, that
the evidence, so far as it went, was loaded with heavy presumptions
against the prisoner. A letter had been lodged in the hands of the
fiscal, from Captain Beachum, stating that the robbery was committed at
a distance of about ten miles from Gretna; that the perpetrators were
two ruffians, mounted on good horses; that they had taken the
portmanteau filled with valuable papers, and also his purse, containing
a balance of twenty-two guineas, and a diamond ring, marked "C. B.;" all
of which they carried off in the direction of Gretna. The letter
contained authority to the Lord Advocate to prosecute the perpetrators,
and recover the articles. The ring and guineas, _minus two_, had been
found on Mike Maxwell, within some hours of the robbery. Then Giles
Baldwin had sworn that he saw Mike Maxwell in full pursuit after the
carriage some short time before the robbery was committed; and some
other individuals swore that they saw him return to Gretna some time
after, mounted on his black mare. In addition to all this, was Mike's
improbable examination, which seemed of itself to be conclusive of the
case. This appeared to Alice overpowering, especially when she added to
it what she herself had witnessed--the arrival of the carriage, and the
precipitate retreat of Mike, at a time when it was _impossible_ he could
know that there was (according to his theory) any carriage coming up in
pursuit of the other.
She went home, sad and disconsolate, and passed the remaining part of
the day and the night in the greatest misery. She revolved in her head
various schemes for eliciting something favourable to her lover; but the
absence of Captain Beachum, who could alone give any account of the
circumstances attending the alleged robbery, formed a bar to her
inquiries which she could not overleap. As she sat next evening, musing
on the unfortunate current of events that cast her from the elevation of
the pride of one who possessed the favour of the most proper and comely
man of the Borders, to the shame of the confidential friend and lover of
a robber, who might shortly be hanged, after associating, on the
scaffold, her name with his sorrows--she was roused from her grief by a
tap at the window. She started. It was Mike's rap, and the very hour at
which he generally visited her. She flew to the window, thinking he had
escaped, and had thus come to communicate the joyful tidings.
"Is it possible? It is not you, Mike?" she said, lowly.
"No, but it is his friend," said a voice she thought she knew.
"What friend?" said she; "and with what object does he call here?"
"Names have a dangerous odour," said the other, "when the beagles are
out and snuffing every breeze for the scent of red game. You wish Mike
Maxwell well--you visited him yesterday; would you aid in his escape?"
"Doubtless," said Alice. "Tell me what I could do to attain that object
honourably."
"Here is the portmanteau," said the other, "which was taken from Captain
Beachum. If it is sent back to him, he will give up the prosecution
against Mike, as all he wants is the papers contained in it. Open the
window a little till I rest the end of it on the sill."
Rendered stupid by this statement, Alice obeyed like an automaton. She
lifted up the window. The portmanteau was placed within it in an
instant.
"Get it sent to Beachum," said the voice. "_I joined Mike in the
robbery, and wish him to get off._"
The window fell from the powerless hold of the thunderstruck girl, and
struck the speaker's hand which was on the end of the portmanteau. The
blow was a severe one; he ran off, and the portmanteau fell down within
the house, where it lay as if it had been placed there by the hands of a
housewife. It was some time before the miserable girl came back to the
consciousness of her true position. The last words of the voice--"I
joined Mike in the robbery, and wish him to get off"--rung in her ears
like a death-knell; and the next moment her eyes fell on the fatal
portmanteau--the very article stolen by her lover--that which was to
convict him, to hang him. She grew frantic, ran to the door, looked east
and west through the shadows of the trees, flew first one way, then
another, called aloud, screamed, and called again. No one answered. The
man was gone. She returned into the house, where her eyes again met and
recoiled from the damning memorial. Terror now took possession of her
mind. The circumstance of the portmanteau being found there would form
the only link wanting of the evidence that would hang her lover. Were
she to state how it came there--concealing the last dreadful words which
still haunted her ear--she would not be believed; and if she told the
whole truth, including the fatal words, the same result--the
condemnation of her lover--would follow. What therefore was she to do?
She could not discover it; but could she conceal it without danger to
herself as well as to him? It was clear she could not; and, besides, her
soul abhorred secresy and deceit of all kinds.
As she sat in this state of doubt and despair, a noise of footsteps was
heard at the door, with whisperings and broken ejaculations. A tremor
passed over her. They might be officers of justice come to search the
house. A rap sounded softly on the door, and the whisperings continued.
The portmanteau must, in any view, be concealed in _the meantime_; and,
until her mind was made up, she flew and seized the covering of the bed,
and hurriedly threw it over the glaring evidence of her lover's guilt.
She had scarcely accomplished this hasty, but fatal concealment, when
the door opened, and three sheriff-officers entered the house, and
asked her if Mike Maxwell had left anything to her charge? The necessity
for acting prudently called up her energies. She stood erect before the
men.