Lochinvar: A Novel

And indeed, as it proved, it was the Little Marie whose sharp eyes first saw their opponents tracking stealthily along the sandy bottoms between them and the forest. The pursuers seemed to be ten or twelve in number, and they came scouting cautiously here and there through the hollows, running briskly to the tops of the higher dunes, and looking eagerly all about them for the footprints of men or horses in the looser sand.

Before Scarlett or Wat could stop her – indeed, before either of them so much as suspected her intention, the Little Marie had climbed over the wall on the side farthest from the enemy but nearest to the sea. In a moment she had run deftly down among the ruts and hiding-places of the dells. With wonderful skill she threaded her way towards the approaching miscreants, without letting them catch a single glimpse of her. Indeed, even from their watch-tower on the top of the dune, it was as much as Wat and Scarlett could do to keep her in sight through the wavering glimmer of the heated air.

Presently, as they lay behind their defences, each in his own rude shelter, Wat and Scarlett could see her crouch low in a little cuplike depression upon the height of a dune overlooking the track by which the enemy must come. The girl lay motionless, with her body flat to the ground, like a cat which makes ready for the pounce; and they could see the sun of the afternoon wink on the steel barrels of her pistols as on dewy holly leaves.

Soon the vanguard of Haxo's little army came scouting and scenting along. The men kept signalling and crying, keeping touch with one another and making believe to search the wilderness of sand and bent with marvellous exactitude and care.

The foremost of them had just passed the hillock on the top of which Marie lay when "Crack! crack!" a couple of pistol-shots rang out loudly on the slumberous air. One man pitched heavily forward on his face, while another and younger man spun round like a rabbit, bent himself double, clawed convulsively at the sand, and then slowly collapsed across the path.

The scattered trackers here and there about the mounds and hollows stood rooted to the ground with vague alarm at the sight. Some of them, indeed, put their heads down and ran up the hill of sand from which the shots had come. But when they reached the summit all they saw was the reek of burned powder lazily dispersing in the hot haze of the afternoon, while upon the dune's extremest edge were the marks of a pair of elbows in the sand, where Marie had reclined as she took aim.

But of their dangerous assailant they found no further trace. For immediately upon firing Marie had snatched her pistols and descended into the winding lane of sand at the back of the dune. Then, being perfectly acquainted with her line of communication, and mindful ever to keep upon the shady side, she glided from shelter to shelter with the silence and skill of one bred to such guerilla warfare.

Haxo and his party were manifestly discouraged by their misfortune, and still more by the immunity of their unseen foe. What had happened once might very well happen again. Nevertheless, trusting to their numbers, they came on with still more infinite pains, Haxo himself climbing a high dune and crying directions to his men how they were to advance by this pass and that dell, in which from his post of vantage he could be certain that no enemy lurked.

CHAPTER XX

CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN

Marie had made good her retreat till she halted within a few hundred yards of the little fort where Wat and Scarlett kept their watch. Here she lay crouched behind a bush of broom which had escaped the general destruction as the shifting sand advanced, and which had made good its position by associating itself with stubborn clumps of pink and sea-holly. For these are both brave, self-helpful plants, and can bind the sand together with their own proper roots without the aid of bent-grass. Behind this ambuscade Marie crouched, and Wat would have descended to her assistance but that Scarlett forcibly withheld him.

"Lie still, man; can ye not bide and watch? It is as bonny as a painted picture. Think you that our muckle clumsy bodies could run and hide as featly? I trow not! Let the lass do her own ways. She has, indeed, a very pretty notion of war – aye, far better than many of our boasted generals, and nigh hand as good as the prince himself. For, to my thinking, there is more generalship in delaying and harassing the advance of a superior force than in defeating an equal number with trumpets, drums, and all the paraphernalia of war."

So, in obedience to Scarlett, and also because the girl's quick manœuvres at once astonished and fascinated him, Wat abode still where he was. But his eyes were chained to the slight form of the Little Marie, who lay behind the broom perfectly plain to them from their fortress eminence, but wholly hidden from the line of the enemy's advance. It seemed an unconscionable time before the pursuers came near, because on this occasion they took the utmost precautions to avoid surprise; and it was not till Haxo himself had ascended the knoll within thirty feet of where the girl lay that the foremost of the approaching skirmishers came within range.

But Marie was either so careless of her life or so sure of the line of her retreat that she appeared to pick and choose deliberately among her enemies. The persons of many of them were doubtless well known to her, and it is possible that she had private scores to pay off while thus fighting the battles of Wat and Scarlett.

Presently one of her pistols spoke again and a third man fell wounded. Haxo stood up to mark the spot from which the reek of the powder floated lazily into the air, and as he did so, Marie, wheeling about on her elbows, steadied her weapon on the edge of the sand between the broom-bush and the sea-holly. It cracked, and Haxo, with a cry of anger and pain, clapped his hand upon his ankle, for all the world like a boy that runs barefoot and whose toe meets a stone unexpectedly.

But this time it was impossible for Marie to conceal the line of her flight. She had to make a considerable detour to the right; for, in order to pick her men, she had allowed some of the enemy to pass her by, and these now bent hastily round to intercept her. The rest, following Haxo's frenzied directions as he leaped and swore with the pain of his hurt, pursued with might and main, getting glimpses of her as she ran. For on this occasion Marie took no care whatever to keep to the bottoms, but on the contrary chose the hardest surface and the most direct road for the shore, as though she had been fleeing to a boat which lay in waiting at the sea edge.

It was soon obvious that this was the idea of the pursuers, for those on the left who had passed her place of ambush exerted themselves to reach the shingle of the beach by the narrow and deep defile in front of the wall of the fort. They paused occasionally to fire, and cheered and shouted all the time in order to encourage one another – which doubtless they were much in need of, for it must have been most discomfortable to see their comrades dropping here and there about them without so much as the pleasure of getting a shot at the assailant.

Then for the first time Wat and Scarlett perceived whither Marie was leading the enemy. Ever as she came nearer she raised her arm and waved them to be ready. But with what they were to be ready did not appear, unless with their pistols, to have a chance at the rascals as they passed under the wall. Yet it was not a place favorable for pistol practice, because at that point the wall was broken down and fully thirty feet of it completely undermined and tottering to its fall.

"The wall, the wall! Push down the wall!" cried Marie, as she came almost underneath it.

It was Scarlett who first grasped her idea. Wat on his part was too much astonished at the daring and address of this girl to be capable of more than a vague, gaping wonderment.

"Quick, Wat!" cried Scarlett; "it must be the overhanging wall she means. See you not that these fellows, being ignorant of our presence, it is a thousand chances to one that for ease of road and haste to get before the lass to keep her away from the sea, they will take the path through the ravine and pass immediately underneath the wall?"

"And what of that?" asked Wat.

"What of that? Why, man, what is come of your ancient contrivance, your wise shifts, your forethought? How will you ever find your love if your wits are so moidered, before ever ye leave this dull Dutch country?"

"Faith, and I see it not yet," cried Wat, looking over at the chase more bewildered than ever.

"Why, she means that we are to push the wall over upon them when they come, I'll wager," said Scarlett.

"And so destroy our only defences; it is, indeed, a wise ploy!" cried Wat, scornfully.

"Hush, man, and come help. We may annihilate the whole crew at a blow," said the old soldier, who had no petty scruples about ways and means; "an enemy dead is a friend the more, however he come by his end."

Scarlett and Wat stole to the wall and peeped cautiously over. The ill-laid and mouldered stones tottered even as they leaned against them; one or two rattled into the defile as they looked down. The heads of the pursuers were just appearing at the entrance of the dell. One of them was training his piece to shoot it off at the girl, who ran lightly as at a frolic a hundred yards in front.

Without a suspicion of danger the assailants came posting along.

"Now, with all your might!" cried Scarlett, when he saw the villains exactly underneath. He could plainly descry the same four men who had sat about the table in the Hostel of the Coronation, and some of the others also who had flocked in thither to join the fray.

So without further word Wat and Scarlett set their thews to the wall; and between them, panting with the long chase and grimed with powder, where the touchhole had spat up in her face, the Little Marie threw herself on the parapet to help on the catastrophe with all her feeble strength.

The wall swayed in a piece and quivered a moment on the verge ere it fell with a prodigious crash upon the straggling file of men in the deep defile below. A hoarse, confused cry was heard, running up, as the pursuers too late recognized their danger, into a shriek of agony. Then a thick cloud of dust and sand arose, which prevented those in the redoubt from seeing the effect of their stratagem. Presently from the gap they could see a few limping stragglers disentangle their disabled bodies from the ruins, and make haste to put as much space as possible between themselves and the unseen dangers which beset them on every side on these wide, unwholesome dunes.

The Little Marie stood erect in the breach. She held her pistols in her hand and marked down the survivors as they ran.

"Let them go, Marie," cried Wat; "they are powerless to harm us now!"

Wat's heart was a little turned to pity by the wholesale destruction wrought beneath his eyes by the falling of the wall; but Marie's eyes only glistened the more brightly with excitement and the light of battle.

"But they are your enemies, my captain!" said Marie, evidently surprised at his words. Then very coolly she went on loading her pistols.

"Stand down, Marie," cried Wat, "or they will surely do you an injury. I saw a man's head behind yon highest dune."

"I care not so be they kill me outright. I do not want to be only wounded," answered the Little Marie, laughing recklessly. Nevertheless, she began obediently to descend.

Wat's warning came too late. Haxo himself, full of bitterness and foaming with the desire for vengeance, had managed to limp near enough to witness the destruction of his men in the defile. While the girl was priming her pistols, he had taken careful aim. Now he fired.

Marie gave a low, quick cry and put her hand to her breast to feel where the wound was. Then she steadied herself and attempted to go on with the preparation of her pistol.

But with a little moan of pain she sank back into Wat's arms, who gently laid her down in the shade of the wall. Scarlett brought her water in the brim of his broad hat. He sprinkled it on her face. A brief examination showed that Haxo's bullet had struck the girl an inch above the left breast. Scarlett and Wat looked squarely at each other. The significance of that single glance was not lost on the Little Marie.

A bright look of manifest joy instantly overspread her face.

"I am glad – very glad," she said, fighting a little with her utterance; "lift me up so that I may tell you. I am glad that I am to die. Yes, I know it. I wished nothing else. I tried so hard to die to-day, my captain, fighting your enemies; for I knew that I should never see you again, that you would sail away without a thought for the Little Marie who wrought so hard to take you out of prison. I knew that you were going to seek one whom you love, and that I could not come with you. But now I can keep you – keep you all, till it is time for me to go away."

She put an arm up about Wat's neck as he bent over her and drew his head down.

"Only this once," she said, smiling. "Even she would not be angry, for she has all – I nothing. And it is right – right – oh! so right. For you could not love the Little Marie – wife and mother she could not be; her life had been wicked – yet her heart was not all bad. And oh! but she loved you – yes, she loved you so dear. She could not help that – nor could you, my captain. Forgive Marie for loving you. But, then, you should not have spoken so graciously to the poor girl to whom none ever spoke kindly or gently."

Wat bent over the girl.

"You have, indeed, been brave and good," he said; "we truly love you for what you have done. Presently we will take you to a kindly house where you shall be nursed – "

"Nay, my captain," she whispered, smiling up at him gladly, "it is kind – yes, most sweet to hear you speak thus. But it is better that the Little Marie should die out here with your arm about her, and before the sun of this happy day goes quite down. Ah, if she had stayed in the fields always she might have been better, purer, perhaps – who knows? But then she had never known you, my captain. Maybe it is better as it is. At least, it is good to have known one true man."

She was silent a space. Wat tried hard to remember a prayer. Scarlett whistled a marching tune under his breath to keep from angry, rebellious weeping. The dying girl spoke again.

"Do not quite forget the Little Marie," she said; "her heart would not have been all bad – if only you had been there sooner to teach her how to be good."

She smiled up at him with eyes over which a pale, filmy haze was gathering. She put her hand a little farther about his neck and so brought her face nearer to his.

"Did I not lead them well?" she said, eagerly and gladly; "tell me – even she could not have done it better! Ah! love, but this is passing sweet," she went on, more slowly and plaintively; "it is good to be held up thus, and to watch death coming to me so softly, almost sweetly. Dear, just say once that what I did was well done, and that no one at all could have done it better for you."

"None has ever done so much for me, none so given all for me, as you have done, Little Marie!" murmured Wat, his tears dropping down on the pale face of the girl – who, if she had sinned greatly, had also greatly loved.

"It is true, and I am glad," she said again, "even your love of loves herself could do no more than die for you!"

Her smile fixed itself. Her eyes grew hazier, but their long, still look stayed intently and happily upon Wat's face. Murmuring a prayer, he bent and kissed the fair brow that was now growing cold as marble. At the touch of his lips a light, as from a paradise beyond, flamed up for a moment in the girl's eyes. Her smile grew infinitely sweeter, and the rigid lines of pain about the mouth relaxed.

"My captain – O my captain!" she whispered, sweetly as a little child that closes its eyes and nestles into sleep upon a loving shoulder.

CHAPTER XXI

THE GOOD SHIP SEA UNICORN

Kate McGhie was safe on board the Sea Unicorn, Captain Smith – a vessel English by ownership and manning, but which, for purposes which need not at this point be too closely defined, presently flew the Three Castles of the famous free city of Hamburg, though that fact would not materially have benefited any one on board had one of the British fleet from the Medway overhauled Captain Smith. For on board the Sea Unicorn there was much contraband of war, clearly intended for the sustenance and equipment of the enemies of his Majesty King James, both in the West of England and also more particularly in Scotland.

As Kate was being taken up the side, she could hear above all the sea noises the voice of a man in angry monologue. Captain Zachariah Smith, of the good town of Poole, was exceedingly wrathful at the delay. But in spite of his anger the work of the deck went forward as well as it might on so small a vessel, when everything creaked and tumbled in the dancing jabble of the cross seas. For the wrath of Captain Smith for the most part passed off in angry words, and did not, as was usual in the merchant service of the time, very promptly materialize itself in the form of a handspike. There was considerable difficulty in getting the boat alongside on account of the swell, and Kate was handed up like a piece of delicate goods. The man upon whose saddle she had been carried held her up lightly poised on his hand, and as the side of the plunging ship descended and the boat lurched upward, simultaneously half a dozen arms, rough but not untender, were outstretched to receive her. In a moment more she found herself safe on the deck of the Sea Unicorn.

"Ah, my lassie, come your ways," said a voice, which, simply because it was the voice of a woman, made Kate almost cry out with pleasure. It was a pleasant enough voice, too, and had something in the tone of it which seemed an excellent guarantee of the good intentions of its owner.

A tall, well-formed, rosily colored woman of forty or fifty stood by the mast, keeping her hand on a rope to steady herself as the vessel lunged and dipped her stem viciously into the trough of the waves.

"This is an uncanny and unheartsome journey for ye, my lassie," said the woman, "but it's an auld proverb that we maun a' do as things will do wi' us."

Kate ran to her as soon as her feet were free on the deck and caught her by the hand.

"You will help me – you will save me!" she said, looking up at the buxom woman with an agony of apprehension in her eyes. For it was a great thing after a night of terror and darkness, and after the enforced and unwelcome company of ungentle men, for the lonely girl to find a woman, and one so seemingly kindly of face and manner.

"Help ye, lassie! That will surely Betsy Landsborough do. Have no fear of that. They shall never steer ye gin ye like it not. That dour man o' mine has his orders frae the chief, belike, and in the mean time ye'll hae to bide wi' us. But there shall none hurt or molest ye, while Betsy, the wife of Alister, can win at them wi' her ten finger-nails."

"You speak like a Lowland woman," said Kate, ten minutes afterwards, when they found themselves in the little cabin in the stern of the ship. Kate was an excellent sailor, so that the plunging of the Sea Unicorn did not seriously affect her. By-and-by the heaving moderated as the ship turned tail to the land and sped away before a strong southeasterly wind towards the shores of England. Owing to the heavy sea it had been found utterly impossible to get the long-boat on board, and Captain Smith had reluctantly sent it back, to be cared for in the little port of Lis till his return.

The cabin of the Sea Unicorn was a narrow place, but it was dainty enough in its appointments, and the two small white berths were covered with white linen of wonderful softness.

Now the bitterest and most immediate of Kate's anxiety was over. She knew that for the present at least she was a prisoner in the hands of kindly people, and with one of her own sex on board. So it seemed as if she could not let her companion out of her sight.

"You have not yet told me why you speak like a Lowland woman," Kate said again to her new friend.

Betsy Landsborough had not heard the first time, being busied with the arrangement of various articles of dress in a dark closet by the side of the cabin.

"'Deed aye," she answered, "and what for no? Would ye hae me speak like thae muckle ill-favored sons 'o the peat-creel because for my sins are o' the Highland Host carried me away frae bonny Colmonel in Carrick in the year '79. Ever since which sorrowful day I have been the wife o' Alister McAlister, the tacksman of the Isle Suliscanna, near half-road across the Atlantic."

"Is your husband on board?" asked Kate.

"Aye, that he is; ye'll hae maybe seen mair o' him than ye like. For it was him that gat the chief's orders to bring ye here wi' him. He wad no hae muckle to say till ye. He is none ower gleg with the tongue at the best o' times. It was a year and a half before he understood mair o' my talk than juist 'Come here!' 'Gang there!' 'Stand oot o' the road o' me, or else I'll ding the head aff ye!'"

Kate smiled a little at the friendly sounding and natural accent of the Ayrshire woman, and though her path was still as dark as night before her, and she knew not whither she was being taken, a load consciously lifted from about her heart as she listened.

"But can you tell me," she returned, "by whose orders and for what purpose I have been stolen cruelly away from my friends and set on this vessel, going I know not where?"

"By whose orders I can tell ye, and welcome. It is by the orders o' the chief o' the McAlisters. Why, lass, it is something to be proud of. The Lord of Barra, the chief himsel', is fell fond o' ye, and, I doubt not, has ta'en ye awa' that ye may settle doon to island ways and be ready, when he gets his new coronet, to be a brave Lady of the Isles."

"But I will never marry my Lord Barra – no, nor any man but the man I love!" cried Kate, indignantly.

"Hoot, toot, gently and daintily, my lassie; that is even what I said mysel', when yon great rawboned stot first took me wi' him, never speerin' my leave. Dinna ye ken that no a Lord o' Barra has ever gotten a wife for five hunder years, but by the auld and honored Highland fashion o' takin' her first an' coortin' her after? Haith! there's mony a mislippened lass that wishes she had that way o't. For mony is the ane wha mairries for love and gets the butter and the comfits first, but in the afterings finds that right bitter in the belly which had been so sweet in the mouth."

And with this Sabine wisdom Betsy Landsborough vanished with a flourish of lifted petticoats up the ladder, which on the small Sea Unicorn served to communicate between the cabin and the deck.

The ship still sped on her course, and Kate sat below thinking of her strange adventure, which yet seemed so little and so natural to the wild, lawless folk among whom she found herself. Captain Smith incessantly prowled the deck and looked eagerly for Branksea Island, and still more anxiously for the lights of one of his Majesty's swift cruisers from the Nore. So in the mean time we will let the Sea Unicorn cut a furrow out of sight across the long heaving billows of the seas, while we go back to accompany Wat Gordon in his search for his lost love. Difficult and almost hopeless as the quest seemed, Wat's heart was wholly true and loyal. He never swerved from his resolve to search the world and to endure all manner of hardness till he died, rather than that he should not find his love. Whereat, as often as he put the matter into words, Jack Scarlett swore under his breath, and more than ever regretted (he stated it on his honor as a soldier) the best paymaster and the most complaisant landlady he had known for twenty years.

CHAPTER XXII

WISE JAN PETTIGREW

Gently, very gently, they laid in the earth the body of the Little Marie, and Wat Gordon said the prayer over her he could not remember before when she lay a-dying. It was a prayer to the Lord who takes reckoning with the intents of the heart as well as with the deeds of the body.

Under the shelter of a great dune they laid her, digging the grave as deep as they could, using the same tools with which they had intrenched the citadel she had helped them so well to defend. They laid her on the landward side, under a huge cliff of sand, so that as the winds blew and the sand wave advanced, it might bury her deeper and ever deeper till the trumpet of the archangel should blow reveille upon the morn of final judgment.