Catriona
weapons, the Gregara three to two. It seemed we were beyond salvation,
when Neil screamed in his own tongue, ordering the others back, and
made his submission to myself in a manner the most abject, even giving
me up his knife which (upon a repetition of his promises) I returned to
him on the morrow.
Two things I saw plain: the first, that I must not build too high on
Andie, who had shrunk against the wall and stood there, as pale as
death, till the affair was over; the second, the strength of my own
position with the Highlanders, who must have received extraordinary
charges to be tender of my safety. But if I thought Andie came not very
well out in courage, I had no fault to find with him upon the account
of gratitude. It was not so much that he troubled me with thanks, as
that his whole mind and manner appeared changed; and as he preserved
ever after a great timidity of our companions, he and I were yet more
constantly together.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE MISSING WITNESS
On the seventeenth, the day I was trysted with the Writer, I had much
rebellion against fate. The thought of him waiting in the _King’s
Arms_, and of what he would think, and what he would say when next we
met, tormented and oppressed me. The truth was unbelievable, so much I
had to grant, and it seemed cruel hard I should be posted as a liar and
a coward, and have never consciously omitted what it was possible that
I should do. I repeated this form of words with a kind of bitter
relish, and re-examined in that light the steps of my behaviour. It
seemed I had behaved to James Stewart as a brother might; all the past
was a picture that I could be proud of, and there was only the present
to consider. I could not swim the sea, nor yet fly in the air, but
there was always Andie. I had done him a service, he liked me; I had a
lever there to work on; if it were just for decency, I must try once
more with Andie.
It was late afternoon; there was no sound in all the Bass but the lap
and bubble of a very quiet sea; and my four companions were all crept
apart, the three Macgregors higher on the rock, and Andie with his
Bible to a sunny place among the ruins; there I found him in deep
sleep, and, as soon as he was awake, appealed to him with some fervour
of manner and a good show of argument.
“If I thoucht it was to do guid to ye, Shaws!” said he, staring at me
over his spectacles.
“It’s to save another,” said I, “and to redeem my word. What would be
more good than that? Do ye no mind the scripture, Andie? And you with
the Book upon your lap! _What shall it profit a man if he gain the
whole world_?”
“Ay,” said he, “that’s grand for you. But where do I come in! I have my
word to redeem the same’s yoursel’. And what are ye asking me to do,
but just to sell it ye for siller?”
“Andie! have I named the name of siller?” cried I.
“Ou, the name’s naething”, said he; “the thing is there, whatever. It
just comes to this; if I am to service ye the way that you propose,
I’ll lose my lifelihood. Then it’s clear ye’ll have to make it up to
me, and a pickle mair, for your ain credit like. And what’s that but
just a bribe? And if even I was certain of the bribe! But by a’ that I
can learn, it’s far frae that; and if _you_ were to hang, where would
_I_ be? Na: the thing’s no possible. And just awa’ wi’ ye like a bonny
lad! and let Andie read his chapter.”
I remember I was at bottom a good deal gratified with this result; and
the next humour I fell into was one (I had near said) of gratitude to
Prestongrange, who had saved me, in this violent, illegal manner, out
of the midst of my dangers, temptations, and perplexities. But this was
both too flimsy and too cowardly to last me long, and the remembrance
of James began to succeed to the possession of my spirits. The 21st,
the day set for the trial, I passed in such misery of mind as I can
scarce recall to have endured, save perhaps upon Isle Earraid only.
Much of the time I lay on a brae-side betwixt sleep and waking, my body
motionless, my mind full of violent thoughts. Sometimes I slept indeed;
but the court-house of Inverary and the prisoner glancing on all sides
to find his missing witness, followed me in slumber; and I would wake
again with a start to darkness of spirit and distress of body. I
thought Andie seemed to observe me, but I paid him little heed. Verily,
my bread was bitter to me, and my days a burthen.
Early the next morning (Friday, 22nd) a boat came with provisions, and
Andie placed a packet in my hand. The cover was without address but
sealed with a Government seal. It enclosed two notes. “Mr. Balfour can
now see for himself it is too late to meddle. His conduct will be
observed and his discretion rewarded.” So ran the first, which seemed
to be laboriously writ with the left hand. There was certainly nothing
in these expressions to compromise the writer, even if that person
could be found; the seal, which formidably served instead of signature,
was affixed to a separate sheet on which there was no scratch of
writing; and I had to confess that (so far) my adversaries knew what
they were doing, and to digest as well as I was able the threat that
peeped under the promise.
But the second enclosure was by far the more surprising. It was in a
lady’s hand of writ. “_Maister Dauvit Balfour is informed a friend was
speiring for him and her eyes were of the grey_,” it ran—and seemed so
extraordinary a piece to come to my hands at such a moment and under
cover of a Government seal, that I stood stupid. Catriona’s grey eyes
shone in my remembrance. I thought, with a bound of pleasure, she must
be the friend. But who should the writer be, to have her billet thus
enclosed with Prestongrange’s? And of all wonders, why was it thought
needful to give me this pleasing but most inconsequent intelligence
upon the Bass? For the writer, I could hit upon none possible except
Miss Grant. Her family, I remembered, had remarked on Catriona’s eyes
and even named her for their colour; and she herself had been much in
the habit to address me with a broad pronunciation, by way of a sniff,
I supposed, at my rusticity. No doubt, besides, but she lived in the
same house as this letter came from. So there remained but one step to
be accounted for; and that was how Prestongrange should have permitted
her at all in an affair so secret, or let her daft-like billet go in
the same cover with his own. But even here I had a glimmering. For,
first of all, there was something rather alarming about the young lady,
and papa might be more under her domination than I knew. And, second,
there was the man’s continual policy to be remembered, how his conduct
had been continually mingled with caresses, and he had scarce ever, in
the midst of so much contention, laid aside a mask of friendship. He
must conceive that my imprisonment had incensed me. Perhaps this little
jesting, friendly message was intended to disarm my rancour?
I will be honest—and I think it did. I felt a sudden warmth towards
that beautiful Miss Grant, that she should stoop to so much interest in
my affairs. The summoning up of Catriona moved me of itself to milder
and more cowardly counsels. If the Advocate knew of her and our
acquaintance—if I should please him by some of that “discretion” at
which his letter pointed—to what might not this lead! _In vain is the
net prepared in the sight of any fowl_, the Scripture says. Well, fowls
must be wiser than folk! For I thought I perceived the policy, and yet
fell in with it.
I was in this frame, my heart beating, the grey eyes plain before me
like two stars, when Andie broke in upon my musing.
“I see ye has gotten guid news,” said he.
I found him looking curiously in my face; with that there came before
me like a vision of James Stewart and the court of Inverary; and my
mind turned at once like a door upon its hinges. Trials, I reflected,
sometimes draw out longer than is looked for. Even if I came to
Inverary just too late, something might yet be attempted in the
interests of James—and in those of my own character, the best would be
accomplished. In a moment, it seemed without thought, I had a plan
devised.
“Andie,” said I, “is it still to be to-morrow?”
He told me nothing was changed.
“Was anything said about the hour?” I asked.
He told me it was to be two o’clock afternoon.
“And about the place?” I pursued.
“Whatten place?” says Andie.
“The place I am to be landed at?” said I.
He owned there was nothing as to that.
“Very well, then,” I said, “this shall be mine to arrange. The wind is
in the east, my road lies westward: keep your boat, I hire it; let us
work up the Forth all day; and land me at two o’clock to-morrow at the
westmost we’ll can have reached.”
“Ye daft callant!” he cried; “ye would try for Inverary after a’!”
“Just that, Andie,” says I.
“Weel, ye’re ill to beat!” says he. “And I was a kind o’ sorry for ye
a’ day yesterday,” he added. “Ye see, I was never entirely sure till
then, which way of it ye really wantit.”
Here was a spur to a lame horse!
“A word in your ear, Andie,” said I. “This plan of mine has another
advantage yet. We can leave these Hielandman behind us on the rock, and
one of your boats from the Castleton can bring them off to-morrow. Yon
Neil has a queer eye when he regards you; maybe, if I was once out of
the gate there might be knives again; these red-shanks are unco
grudgeful. And if there should come to be any question, here is your
excuse. Our lives were in danger by these savages; being answerable for
my safety, you chose the part to bring me from their neighbourhood and
detain me the rest of the time on board your boat: and do you know,
Andie?” says I, with a smile, “I think it was very wisely chosen.”
“The truth is I have nae goo for Neil,” says Andie, “nor he for me, I’m
thinking; and I would like ill to come to my hands wi’ the man. Tam
Anster will make a better hand of it with the cattle onyway.” (For this
man, Anster, came from Fife, where the Gaelic is still spoken.) “Ay,
ay!” says Andie, “Tam’ll can deal with them the best. And troth! the
mair I think of it, the less I see we would be required. The place—ay,
feggs! they had forgot the place. Eh, Shaws, ye’re a lang-heided chield
when ye like! Forby that I’m awing ye my life,” he added, with more
solemnity, and offered me his hand upon the bargain.
Whereupon, with scarce more words, we stepped suddenly on board the
boat, cast off, and set the lug. The Gregara were then busy upon
breakfast, for the cookery was their usual part; but, one of them
stepping to the battlements, our flight was observed before we were
twenty fathoms from the rock; and the three of them ran about the ruins
and the landing-shelf, for all the world like ants about a broken nest,
hailing and crying on us to return. We were still in both the lee and
the shadow of the rock, which last lay broad upon the waters, but
presently came forth in almost the same moment into the wind and
sunshine; the sail filled, the boat heeled to the gunwale, and we swept
immediately beyond sound of the men’s voices. To what terrors they
endured upon the rock, where they were now deserted without the
countenance of any civilised person or so much as the protection of a
Bible, no limit can be set; nor had they any brandy left to be their
consolation, for even in the haste and secrecy of our departure Andie
had managed to remove it.
It was our first care to set Anster ashore in a cove by the Glenteithy
Rocks, so that the deliverance of our maroons might be duly seen to the
next day. Thence we kept away up Firth. The breeze, which was then so
spirited, swiftly declined, but never wholly failed us. All day we kept
moving, though often not much more; and it was after dark ere we were