But this was no time to give way.  I had (by God's single mercy)
got myself alive out of that fortress; and now I had to try to get
the others, my comrades.  There was about a fathom of rope to
spare; I got it by the end, and searched the whole ground
thoroughly for anything to make it fast to.  In vain:  the ground
was broken and stony, but there grew not there so much as a bush of
furze.

'Now then,' thought I to myself, 'here begins a new lesson, and I
believe it will prove richer than the first.  I am not strong
enough to keep this rope extended.  If I do not keep it extended
the next man will be dashed against the precipice.  There is no
reason why he should have my extravagant good luck.  I see no
reason why he should not fall--nor any place for him to fall on but
my head.'

From where I was now standing there was occasionally visible, as
the fog lightened, a lamp in one of the barrack windows, which gave
me a measure of the height he had to fall and the horrid force that
he must strike me with.  What was yet worse, we had agreed to do
without signals:  every so many minutes by Laclas' watch another
man was to be started from the battlements.  Now, I had seemed to
myself to be about half an hour in my descent, and it seemed near
as long again that I waited, straining on the rope for my next
comrade to begin.  I began to be afraid that our conspiracy was
out, that my friends were all secured, and that I should pass the
remainder of the night, and be discovered in the morning, vainly
clinging to the rope's end like a hooked fish upon an angle.  I
could not refrain, at this ridiculous image, from a chuckle of
laughter.  And the next moment I knew, by the jerking of the rope,
that my friend had crawled out of the tunnel and was fairly
launched on his descent.  It appears it was the sailor who had
insisted on succeeding me:  as soon as my continued silence had
assured him the rope was long enough, Gautier, for that was his
name, had forgot his former arguments, and shown himself so
extremely forward, that Laclas had given way.  It was like the
fellow, who had no harm in him beyond an instinctive selfishness.
But he was like to have paid pretty dearly for the privilege.  Do
as I would, I could not keep the rope as I could have wished it;
and he ended at last by falling on me from a height of several
yards, so that we both rolled together on the ground.  As soon as
he could breathe he cursed me beyond belief, wept over his finger,
which he had broken, and cursed me again.  I bade him be still and
think shame of himself to be so great a cry-baby.  Did he not hear
the round going by above? I asked; and who could tell but what the
noise of his fall was already remarked, and the sentinels at the
very moment leaning upon the battlements to listen?

The round, however, went by, and nothing was discovered; the third
man came to the ground quite easily; the fourth was, of course,
child's play; and before there were ten of us collected, it seemed
to me that, without the least injustice to my comrades, I might
proceed to take care of myself.

I knew their plan:  they had a map and an almanack, and designed
for Grangemouth, where they were to steal a ship.  Suppose them to
do so, I had no idea they were qualified to manage it after it was
stolen.  Their whole escape, indeed, was the most haphazard thing
imaginable; only the impatience of captives and the ignorance of
private soldiers would have entertained so misbegotten a device;
and though I played the good comrade and worked with them upon the
tunnel, but for the lawyer's message I should have let them go
without me.  Well, now they were beyond my help, as they had always
been beyond my counselling; and, without word said or leave taken,
I stole out of the little crowd.  It is true I would rather have
waited to shake hands with Laclas, but in the last man who had
descended I thought I recognised Clausel, and since the scene in
the shed my distrust of Clausel was perfect.  I believed the man to
be capable of any infamy, and events have since shown that I was
right.



CHAPTER VII--SWANSTON COTTAGE



I had two views.  The first was, naturally, to get clear of
Edinburgh Castle and the town, to say nothing of my fellow-
prisoners; the second to work to the southward so long as it was
night, and be near Swanston Cottage by morning.  What I should do
there and then, I had no guess, and did not greatly care, being a
devotee of a couple of divinities called Chance and Circumstance.
Prepare, if possible; where it is impossible, work straight
forward, and keep your eyes open and your tongue oiled.  Wit and a
good exterior--there is all life in a nutshell.

I had at first a rather chequered journey:  got involved in
gardens, butted into houses, and had even once the misfortune to
awake a sleeping family, the father of which, as I suppose, menaced
me from the window with a blunderbuss.  Altogether, though I had
been some time gone from my companions, I was still at no great
distance, when a miserable accident put a period to the escape.  Of
a sudden the night was divided by a scream.  This was followed by
the sound of something falling, and that again by the report of a
musket from the Castle battlements.  It was strange to hear the
alarm spread through the city.  In the fortress drums were beat and
a bell rung backward.  On all hands the watchmen sprang their
rattles.  Even in that limbo or no-man's-land where I was
wandering, lights were made in the houses; sashes were flung up; I
could hear neighbouring families converse from window to window,
and at length I was challenged myself.

'Wha's that?' cried a big voice.

I could see it proceeded from a big man in a big nightcap, leaning
from a one-pair window; and as I was not yet abreast of his house,
I judged it was more wise to answer.  This was not the first time I
had had to stake my fortunes on the goodness of my accent in a
foreign tongue; and I have always found the moment inspiriting, as
a gambler should.  Pulling around me a sort of great-coat I had
made of my blanket, to cover my sulphur-coloured livery,--'A
friend!' said I.

'What like's all this collieshangie?' said he.

I had never heard of a collieshangie in my days, but with the
racket all about us in the city, I could have no doubt as to the
man's meaning.

'I do not know, sir, really,' said I; 'but I suppose some of the
prisoners will have escaped.'

'Bedamned!' says he.

'Oh, sir, they will be soon taken,' I replied:  'it has been found
in time.  Good morning, sir!'

'Ye walk late, sir?' he added.

'Oh, surely not,' said I, with a laugh.  'Earlyish, if you like!'
which brought me finally beyond him, highly pleased with my
success.

I was now come forth on a good thoroughfare, which led (as well as
I could judge) in my direction.  It brought me almost immediately
through a piece of street, whence I could hear close by the
springing of a watchman's rattle, and where I suppose a sixth part
of the windows would be open, and the people, in all sorts of night
gear, talking with a kind of tragic gusto from one to another.
Here, again, I must run the gauntlet of a half-dozen questions, the
rattle all the while sounding nearer; but as I was not walking
inordinately quick, as I spoke like a gentleman, and the lamps were
too dim to show my dress, I carried it off once more.  One person,
indeed, inquired where I was off to at that hour.

I replied vaguely and cheerfully, and as I escaped at one end of
this dangerous pass I could see the watchman's lantern entering by
the other.  I was now safe on a dark country highway, out of sight
of lights and out of the fear of watchmen.  And yet I had not gone
above a hundred yards before a fellow made an ugly rush at me from
the roadside.  I avoided him with a leap, and stood on guard,
cursing my empty hands, wondering whether I had to do with an
officer or a mere footpad, and scarce knowing which to wish.  My
assailant stood a little; in the thick darkness I could see him bob
and sidle as though he were feinting at me for an advantageous
onfall.  Then he spoke.

'My goo' frien',' says he, and at the first word I pricked my ears,
'my goo' frien', will you oblishe me with lil neshary infamation?
Whish roa' t' Cramond?'

I laughed out clear and loud, stepped up to the convivialist, took
him by the shoulders and faced him about.  'My good friend,' said
I, 'I believe I know what is best for you much better than
yourself, and may God forgive you the fright you have given me!
There, get you gone to Edinburgh!'  And I gave a shove, which he
obeyed with the passive agility of a ball, and disappeared
incontinently in the darkness down the road by which I had myself
come.

Once clear of this foolish fellow, I went on again up a gradual
hill, descended on the other side through the houses of a country
village, and came at last to the bottom of the main ascent leading
to the Pentlands and my destination.  I was some way up when the
fog began to lighten; a little farther, and I stepped by degrees
into a clear starry night, and saw in front of me, and quite
distinct, the summits of the Pentlands, and behind, the valley of
the Forth and the city of my late captivity buried under a lake of
vapour.  I had but one encounter--that of a farm-cart, which I
heard, from a great way ahead of me, creaking nearer in the night,
and which passed me about the point of dawn like a thing seen in a
dream, with two silent figures in the inside nodding to the horse's
steps.  I presume they were asleep; by the shawl about her head and
shoulders, one of them should be a woman.  Soon, by concurrent
steps, the day began to break and the fog to subside and roll away.
The east grew luminous and was barred with chilly colours, and the
Castle on its rock, and the spires and chimneys of the upper town,
took gradual shape, and arose, like islands, out of the receding
cloud.  All about me was still and sylvan; the road mounting and
winding, with nowhere a sign of any passenger, the birds chirping,
I suppose for warmth, the boughs of the trees knocking together,
and the red leaves falling in the wind.

It was broad day, but still bitter cold and the sun not up, when I
came in view of my destination.  A single gable and chimney of the
cottage peeped over the shoulder of the hill; not far off, and a
trifle higher on the mountain, a tall old white-washed farmhouse
stood among the trees, beside a falling brook; beyond were rough
hills of pasture.  I bethought me that shepherd folk were early
risers, and if I were once seen skulking in that neighbourhood it
might prove the ruin of my prospects; took advantage of a line of
hedge, and worked myself up in its shadow till I was come under the
garden wall of my friends' house.  The cottage was a little quaint
place of many rough-cast gables and grey roofs.  It had something
the air of a rambling infinitesimal cathedral, the body of it
rising in the midst two storeys high, with a steep-pitched roof,
and sending out upon all hands (as it were chapter-houses, chapels,
and transepts) one-storeyed and dwarfish projections.  To add to
this appearance, it was grotesquely decorated with crockets and
gargoyles, ravished from some medieval church.  The place seemed
hidden away, being not only concealed in the trees of the garden,
but, on the side on which I approached it, buried as high as the
eaves by the rising of the ground.  About the walls of the garden
there went a line of well-grown elms and beeches, the first
entirely bare, the last still pretty well covered with red leaves,
and the centre was occupied with a thicket of laurel and holly, in
which I could see arches cut and paths winding.

I was now within hail of my friends, and not much the better.  The
house appeared asleep; yet if I attempted to wake any one, I had no
guarantee it might not prove either the aunt with the gold
eyeglasses (whom I could only remember with trembling), or some ass
of a servant-maid who should burst out screaming at sight of me.
Higher up I could hear and see a shepherd shouting to his dogs and
striding on the rough sides of the mountain, and it was clear I
must get to cover without loss of time.  No doubt the holly
thickets would have proved a very suitable retreat, but there was
mounted on the wall a sort of signboard not uncommon in the country
of Great Britain, and very damping to the adventurous:  SPRING GUNS
AND MAN-TRAPS was the legend that it bore.  I have learned since
that these advertisements, three times out of four, were in the
nature of Quaker guns on a disarmed battery, but I had not learned
it then, and even so, the odds would not have been good enough.
For a choice, I would a hundred times sooner be returned to
Edinburgh Castle and my corner in the bastion, than to leave my
foot in a steel trap or have to digest the contents of an automatic
blunderbuss.  There was but one chance left--that Ronald or Flora
might be the first to come abroad; and in order to profit by this
chance if it occurred, I got me on the cope of the wall in a place
where it was screened by the thick branches of a beech, and sat
there waiting.

As the day wore on, the sun came very pleasantly out.  I had been
awake all night, I had undergone the most violent agitations of
mind and body, and it is not so much to be wondered at, as it was
exceedingly unwise and foolhardy, that I should have dropped into a
doze.  From this I awakened to the characteristic sound of digging,
looked down, and saw immediately below me the back view of a
gardener in a stable waistcoat.  Now he would appear steadily
immersed in his business; anon, to my more immediate terror, he
would straighten his back, stretch his arms, gaze about the
otherwise deserted garden, and relish a deep pinch of snuff.  It
was my first thought to drop from the wall upon the other side.  A
glance sufficed to show me that even the way by which I had come
was now cut off, and the field behind me already occupied by a
couple of shepherds' assistants and a score or two of sheep.  I
have named the talismans on which I habitually depend, but here was
a conjuncture in which both were wholly useless.  The copestone of
a wall arrayed with broken bottles is no favourable rostrum; and I
might be as eloquent as Pitt, and as fascinating as Richelieu, and
neither the gardener nor the shepherd lads would care a halfpenny.
In short, there was no escape possible from my absurd position:
there I must continue to sit until one or other of my neighbours
should raise his eyes and give the signal for my capture.

The part of the wall on which (for my sins) I was posted could be
scarce less than twelve feet high on the inside; the leaves of the
beech which made a fashion of sheltering me were already partly
fallen; and I was thus not only perilously exposed myself, but
enabled to command some part of the garden walks and (under an
evergreen arch) the front lawn and windows of the cottage.  For
long nothing stirred except my friend with the spade; then I heard
the opening of a sash; and presently after saw Miss Flora appear in
a morning wrapper and come strolling hitherward between the
borders, pausing and visiting her flowers--herself as fair.  THERE
was a friend; HERE, immediately beneath me, an unknown quantity--
the gardener:  how to communicate with the one and not attract the
notice of the other?  To make a noise was out of the question; I
dared scarce to breathe.  I held myself ready to make a gesture as
soon as she should look, and she looked in every possible direction
but the one.  She was interested in the vilest tuft of chickweed,
she gazed at the summit of the mountain, she came even immediately
below me and conversed on the most fastidious topics with the
gardener; but to the top of that wall she would not dedicate a
glance!  At last she began to retrace her steps in the direction of
the cottage; whereupon, becoming quite desperate, I broke off a
piece of plaster, took a happy aim, and hit her with it in the nape
of the neck.  She clapped her hand to the place, turned about,
looked on all sides for an explanation, and spying me (as indeed I
was parting the branches to make it the more easy), half uttered
and half swallowed down again a cry of surprise.

The infernal gardener was erect upon the instant.  'What's your
wull, miss?' said he.

Her readiness amazed me.  She had already turned and was gazing in
the opposite direction.  'There's a child among the artichokes,'
she said.

'The Plagues of Egyp'!  I'LL see to them!' cried the gardener
truculently, and with a hurried waddle disappeared among the
evergreens.

That moment she turned, she came running towards me, her arms
stretched out, her face incarnadined for the one moment with
heavenly blushes, the next pale as death.  'Monsieur de. Saint-
Yves!' she said.

'My dear young lady,' I said, 'this is the damnedest liberty--I
know it!  But what else was I to do?'

'You have escaped?' said she.

'If you call this escape,' I replied.

'But you cannot possibly stop there!' she cried.

'I know it,' said I.  'And where am I to go?'

She struck her hands together.  'I have it!' she exclaimed.  'Come
down by the beech trunk--you must leave no footprint in the border-
-quickly, before Robie can get back!  I am the hen-wife here:  I
keep the key; you must go into the hen-house--for the moment.'

I was by her side at once.  Both cast a hasty glance at the blank
windows of the cottage and so much as was visible of the garden
alleys; it seemed there was none to observe us.  She caught me by
the sleeve and ran.  It was no time for compliments; hurry breathed
upon our necks; and I ran along with her to the next corner of the
garden, where a wired court and a board hovel standing in a grove
of trees advertised my place of refuge.  She thrust me in without a
word; the bulk of the fowls were at the same time emitted; and I
found myself the next moment locked in alone with half a dozen
sitting hens.  In the twilight of the place all fixed their eyes on
me severely, and seemed to upbraid me with some crying impropriety.
Doubtless the hen has always a puritanic appearance, although (in
its own behaviour) I could never observe it to be more particular
than its neighbours.  But conceive a British hen!



CHAPTER VIII--THE HEN-HOUSE



I was half an hour at least in the society of these distressing
bipeds, and alone with my own reflections and necessities.  I was
in great pain of my flayed hands, and had nothing to treat them
with; I was hungry and thirsty, and had nothing to eat or to drink;
I was thoroughly tired, and there was no place for me to sit.  To
be sure there was the floor, but nothing could be imagined less
inviting.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, my good-humour was restored.
The key rattled in the lock, and Master Ronald entered, closed the
door behind him, and leaned his back to it.

'I say, you know!' he said, and shook a sullen young head.

'I know it's a liberty,' said I.

'It's infernally awkward:  my position is infernally embarrassing,'
said he.

'Well,' said I, 'and what do you think of mine?'

This seemed to pose him entirely, and he remained gazing upon me
with a convincing air of youth and innocence.  I could have
laughed, but I was not so inhumane.

'I am in your hands,' said I, with a little gesture.  'You must do
with me what you think right.'

'Ah, yes!' he cried:  'if I knew!'

'You see,' said I, 'it would be different if you had received your
commission.  Properly speaking, you are not yet a combatant; I have
ceased to be one; and I think it arguable that we are just in the
position of one ordinary gentleman to another, where friendship
usually comes before the law.  Observe, I only say ARGUABLE.  For
God's sake, don't think I wish to dictate an opinion.  These are
the sort of nasty little businesses, inseparable from war, which
every gentleman must decide for himself.  If I were in your place--
'

'Ay, what would you do, then?' says he.

'Upon my word, I do not know,' said I.  'Hesitate, as you are
doing, I believe.'

'I will tell you,' he said.  'I have a kinsman, and it is what HE
would think, that I am thinking.  It is General Graham of Lynedoch-
-Sir Thomas Graham.  I scarcely know him, but I believe I admire
him more than I do God.'

'I admire him a good deal myself,' said I, 'and have good reason
to.  I have fought with him, been beaten, and run away.  Veni,
victus sum, evasi.'

'What!' he cried.  'You were at Barossa?'

'There and back, which many could not say,' said I.  'It was a
pretty affair and a hot one, and the Spaniards behaved abominably,
as they usually did in a pitched field; the Marshal Duke of Belluno
made a fool of himself, and not for the first time; and your friend
Sir Thomas had the best of it, so far as there was any best.  He is
a brave and ready officer.'

'Now, then, you will understand!' said the boy.  'I wish to please
Sir Thomas:  what would he do?'

'Well, I can tell you a story,' said I, 'a true one too, and about
this very combat of Chiclana, or Barossa as you call it.  I was in
the Eighth of the Line; we lost the eagle of the First Battalion,
more betoken, but it cost you dear.  Well, we had repulsed more
charges than I care to count, when your 87th Regiment came on at a
foot's pace, very slow but very steady; in front of them a mounted
officer, his hat in his hand, white-haired, and talking very
quietly to the battalions.  Our Major, Vigo-Roussillon, set spurs
to his horse and galloped out to sabre him, but seeing him an old
man, very handsome, and as composed as if he were in a coffee-
house, lost heart and galloped back again.  Only, you see, they had
been very close together for the moment, and looked each other in
the eyes.  Soon after the Major was wounded, taken prisoner, and
carried into Cadiz.  One fine day they announced to him the visit
of the General, Sir Thomas Graham.  "Well, sir," said the General,
taking him by the hand, "I think we were face to face upon the
field."  It was the white-haired officer!'

'Ah!' cried the boy,--his eyes were burning.

'Well, and here is the point,' I continued.  'Sir Thomas fed the
Major from his own table from that day, and served him with six
covers.'

'Yes, it is a beautiful--a beautiful story,' said Ronald.  'And yet
somehow it is not the same--is it?'

'I admit it freely,' said I.

The boy stood awhile brooding.  'Well, I take my risk of it,' he
cried.  'I believe it's treason to my sovereign--I believe there is
an infamous punishment for such a crime--and yet I'm hanged if I
can give you up'

I was as much moved as he.  'I could almost beg you to do
otherwise,' I said.  'I was a brute to come to you, a brute and a
coward.  You are a noble enemy; you will make a noble soldier.'
And with rather a happy idea of a compliment for this warlike
youth, I stood up straight and gave him the salute.

He was for a moment confused; his face flushed.  'Well, well, I
must be getting you something to eat, but it will not be for six,'
he added, with a smile:  'only what we can get smuggled out.  There
is my aunt in the road, you see,' and he locked me in again with
the indignant hens.

I always smile when I recall that young fellow; and yet, if the
reader were to smile also, I should feel ashamed.  If my son shall
be only like him when he comes to that age, it will be a brave day
for me and not a bad one for his country.

At the same time I cannot pretend that I was sorry when his sister
succeeded in his place.  She brought me a few crusts of bread and a
jug of milk, which she had handsomely laced with whisky after the
Scottish manner.

'I am so sorry,' she said:  'I dared not bring on anything more.
We are so small a family, and my aunt keeps such an eye upon the
servants.  I have put some whisky in the milk--it is more wholesome
so--and with eggs you will be able to make something of a meal.
How many eggs will you be wanting to that milk? for I must be
taking the others to my aunt--that is my excuse for being here.  I
should think three or four.  Do you know how to beat them? or shall
I do it?'

Willing to detain her a while longer in the hen-house, I displayed
my bleeding palms; at which she cried aloud.

'My dear Miss Flora, you cannot make an omelette without breaking
eggs,' said I; 'and it is no bagatelle to escape from Edinburgh
Castle.  One of us, I think, was even killed.'

'And you are as white as a rag, too,' she exclaimed, 'and can
hardly stand!  Here is my shawl, sit down upon it here in the
corner, and I will beat your eggs.  See, I have brought a fork too;
I should have been a good person to take care of Jacobites or
Covenanters in old days!  You shall have more to eat this evening;
Ronald is to bring it you from town.  We have money enough,
although no food that we can call our own.  Ah, if Ronald and I
kept house, you should not be lying in this shed!  He admires you
so much.'

'My dear friend,' said I, 'for God's sake do not embarrass me with
more alms.  I loved to receive them from that hand, so long as they
were needed; but they are so no more, and whatever else I may lack-
-and I lack everything--it is not money.'  I pulled out my sheaf of
notes and detached the top one:  it was written for ten pounds, and
signed by that very famous individual, Abraham Newlands.  'Oblige
me, as you would like me to oblige your brother if the parts were
reversed, and take this note for the expenses.  I shall need not
only food, but clothes.'

'Lay it on the ground,' said she.  'I must not stop my beating.'

'You are not offended?' I exclaimed.

She answered me by a look that was a reward in itself, and seemed
to imply the most heavenly offers for the future.  There was in it
a shadow of reproach, and such warmth of communicative cordiality
as left me speechless.  I watched her instead till her hens' milk
was ready.

'Now,' said she, 'taste that.'

I did so, and swore it was nectar.  She collected her eggs and
crouched in front of me to watch me eat.  There was about this tall
young lady at the moment an air of motherliness delicious to
behold.  I am like the English general, and to this day I still
wonder at my moderation.

'What sort of clothes will you be wanting?' said she.

'The clothes of a gentleman,' said I.  'Right or wrong, I think it
is the part I am best qualified to play.  Mr. St. Ives (for that's
to be my name upon the journey) I conceive as rather a theatrical
figure, and his make-up should be to match.'

'And yet there is a difficulty,' said she.  'If you got coarse
clothes the fit would hardly matter.  But the clothes of a fine
gentleman--O, it is absolutely necessary that these should fit!
And above all, with your'--she paused a moment--'to our ideas
somewhat noticeable manners.'

'Alas for my poor manners!' said I.  'But my dear friend Flora,
these little noticeabilities are just what mankind has to suffer
under.  Yourself, you see, you're very noticeable even when you
come in a crowd to visit poor prisoners in the Castle.'

I was afraid I should frighten my good angel visitant away, and
without the smallest breath of pause went on to add a few
directions as to stuffs and colours.

She opened big eyes upon me.  'O, Mr. St. Ives!' she cried--'if
that is to be your name--I do not say they would not be becoming;
but for a journey, do you think they would be wise?  I am afraid'--
she gave a pretty break of laughter--'I am afraid they would be
daft-like!'

'Well, and am I not daft?' I asked her.

'I do begin to think you are,' said she.

'There it is, then!' said I.  'I have been long enough a figure of
fun.  Can you not feel with me that perhaps the bitterest thing in
this captivity has been the clothes?  Make me a captive--bind me
with chains if you like--but let me be still myself.  You do not
know what it is to be a walking travesty--among foes,' I added
bitterly.

'O, but you are too unjust!' she cried.  'You speak as though any
one ever dreamed of laughing at you.  But no one did.  We were all
pained to the heart.  Even my aunt--though sometimes I do think she
was not quite in good taste--you should have seen her and heard her
at home!  She took so much interest.  Every patch in your clothes
made us sorry; it should have been a sister's work.'

'That is what I never had--a sister,' said I.  'But since you say
that I did not make you laugh--'

'O, Mr. St. Ives! never!' she exclaimed.  'Not for one moment.  It
was all too sad.  To see a gentleman --'

'In the clothes of a harlequin, and begging?' I suggested.

'To see a gentleman in distress, and nobly supporting it,' she
said.

'And do you not understand, my fair foe,' said I, 'that even if all
were as you say--even if you had thought my travesty were becoming-
-I should be only the more anxious, for my sake, for my country's
sake, and for the sake of your kindness, that you should see him
whom you have helped as God meant him to be seen? that you should
have something to remember him by at least more characteristic than
a misfitting sulphur-yellow suit, and half a week's beard?'

'You think a great deal too much of clothes,' she said.  'I am not
that kind of girl.'

'And I am afraid I am that kind of man,' said I.  'But do not think
of me too harshly for that.  I talked just now of something to
remember by.  I have many of them myself, of these beautiful
reminders, of these keepsakes, that I cannot be parted from until I
lose memory and life.  Many of them are great things, many of them
are high virtues--charity, mercy, faith.  But some of them are
trivial enough.  Miss Flora, do you remember the day that I first
saw you, the day of the strong east wind?  Miss Flora, shall I tell
you what you wore?'

We had both risen to our feet, and she had her hand already on the
door to go.  Perhaps this attitude emboldened me to profit by the
last seconds of our interview; and it certainly rendered her escape
the more easy.

'O, you are too romantic!' she said, laughing; and with that my sun
was blown out, my enchantress had fled away, and I was again left
alone in the twilight with the lady hens.



CHAPTER IX--THREE IS COMPANY, AND FOUR NONE



The rest of the day I slept in the corner of the hen-house upon
Flora's shawl.  Nor did I awake until a light shone suddenly in my
eyes, and starting up with a gasp (for, indeed, at the moment I
dreamed I was still swinging from the Castle battlements) I found
Ronald bending over me with a lantern.  It appeared it was past
midnight, that I had slept about sixteen hours, and that Flora had
returned her poultry to the shed and I had heard her not.  I could
not but wonder if she had stooped to look at me as I slept.  The
puritan hens now slept irremediably; and being cheered with the
promise of supper I wished them an ironical good-night, and was
lighted across the garden and noiselessly admitted to a bedroom on
the ground floor of the cottage.  There I found soap, water,
razors--offered me diffidently by my beardless host--and an outfit
of new clothes.  To be shaved again without depending on the barber
of the gaol was a source of a delicious, if a childish joy.  My
hair was sadly too long, but I was none so unwise as to make an
attempt on it myself.  And, indeed, I thought it did not wholly
misbecome me as it was, being by nature curly.  The clothes were
about as good as I expected.  The waistcoat was of toilenet, a
pretty piece, the trousers of fine kerseymere, and the coat sat
extraordinarily well.  Altogether, when I beheld this changeling in
the glass, I kissed my hand to him.

'My dear fellow,' said I, 'have you no scent?'

'Good God, no!' cried Ronald.  'What do you want with scent?'

'Capital thing on a campaign,' said I.  'But I can do without.'

I was now led, with the same precautions against noise, into the
little bow-windowed dining-room of the cottage.  The shutters were
up, the lamp guiltily turned low; the beautiful Flora greeted me in
a whisper; and when I was set down to table, the pair proceeded to
help me with precautions that might have seemed excessive in the
Ear of Dionysius.

'She sleeps up there,' observed the boy, pointing to the ceiling;
and the knowledge that I was so imminently near to the resting-
place of that gold eyeglass touched even myself with some
uneasiness.

Our excellent youth had imported from the city a meat pie, and I
was glad to find it flanked with a decanter of really admirable
wine of Oporto.  While I ate, Ronald entertained me with the news
of the city, which had naturally rung all day with our escape:
troops and mounted messengers had followed each other forth at all
hours and in all directions; but according to the last intelligence
no recapture had been made.  Opinion in town was very favourable to
us:  our courage was applauded, and many professed regret that our
ultimate chance of escape should be so small.  The man who had
fallen was one Sombref, a peasant; he was one who slept in a
different part of the Castle; and I was thus assured that the whole
of my former companions had attained their liberty, and Shed A was
untenanted.

From this we wandered insensibly into other topics.  It is
impossible to exaggerate the pleasure I took to be thus sitting at
the same table with Flora, in the clothes of a gentleman, at
liberty and in the full possession of my spirits and resources; of
all of which I had need, because it was necessary that I should
support at the same time two opposite characters, and at once play
the cavalier and lively soldier for the eyes of Ronald, and to the
ears of Flora maintain the same profound and sentimental note that
I had already sounded.  Certainly there are days when all goes well
with a man; when his wit, his digestion, his mistress are in a
conspiracy to spoil him, and even the weather smiles upon his
wishes.  I will only say of myself upon that evening that I
surpassed my expectations, and was privileged to delight my hosts.
Little by little they forgot their terrors and I my caution; until
at last we were brought back to earth by a catastrophe that might
very easily have been foreseen, but was not the less astonishing to
us when it occurred.

I had filled all the glasses.  'I have a toast to propose,' I
whispered, 'or rather three, but all so inextricably interwoven
that they will not bear dividing.  I wish first to drink to the
health of a brave and therefore a generous enemy.  He found me
disarmed, a fugitive and helpless.  Like the lion, he disdained so
poor a triumph; and when he might have vindicated an easy valour,
he preferred to make a friend.  I wish that we should next drink to
a fairer and a more tender foe.  She found me in prison; she
cheered me with a priceless sympathy; what she has done since, I
know she has done in mercy, and I only pray--I dare scarce hope--
her mercy may prove to have been merciful.  And I wish to conjoin
with these, for the first, and perhaps the last time, the health--
and I fear I may already say the memory--of one who has fought, not
always without success, against the soldiers of your nation; but
who came here, vanquished already, only to be vanquished again by
the loyal hand of the one, by the unforgettable eyes of the other.'

It is to be feared I may have lent at times a certain resonancy to
my voice; it is to be feared that Ronald, who was none the better
for his own hospitality, may have set down his glass with something
of a clang.  Whatever may have been the cause, at least, I had
scarce finished my compliment before we were aware of a thump upon
the ceiling overhead.  It was to be thought some very solid body
had descended to the floor from the level (possibly) of a bed.  I
have never seen consternation painted in more lively colours than
on the faces of my hosts.  It was proposed to smuggle me forth into
the garden, or to conceal my form under a horsehair sofa which
stood against the wall.  For the first expedient, as was now plain
by the approaching footsteps, there was no longer time; from the
second I recoiled with indignation.

'My dear creatures,' said I, 'let us die, but do not let us be
ridiculous.'

The words were still upon my lips when the door opened and my
friend of the gold eyeglass appeared, a memorable figure, on the
threshold.  In one hand she bore a bedroom candlestick; in the
other, with the steadiness of a dragoon, a horse-pistol.  She was
wound about in shawls which did not wholly conceal the candid
fabric of her nightdress, and surmounted by a nightcap of
portentous architecture.  Thus accoutred, she made her entrance;
laid down the candle and pistol, as no longer called for; looked
about the room with a silence more eloquent than oaths; and then,
in a thrilling voice--'To whom have I the pleasure?' she said,
addressing me with a ghost of a bow.

'Madam, I am charmed, I am sure,' said I.  'The story is a little
long; and our meeting, however welcome, was for the moment entirely
unexpected by myself.  I am sure--' but here I found I was quite
sure of nothing, and tried again.  'I have the honour,' I began,
and found I had the honour to be only exceedingly confused.  With
that, I threw myself outright upon her mercy.  'Madam, I must be
more frank with you,' I resumed.  'You have already proved your
charity and compassion for the French prisoners, I am one of these;
and if my appearance be not too much changed, you may even yet
recognise in me that ODDITY who had the good fortune more than once
to make you smile.'

Still gazing upon me through her glass, she uttered an
uncompromising grunt; and then, turning to her niece--'Flora,' said
she, 'how comes he here?'

The culprits poured out for a while an antiphony of explanations,
which died out at last in a miserable silence.

'I think at least you might have told your aunt,' she snorted.

'Madam,' I interposed, 'they were about to do so.  It is my fault
if it be not done already.  But I made it my prayer that your
slumbers might be respected, and this necessary formula of my
presentation should be delayed until to-morrow in the morning.'

The old lady regarded me with undissembled incredulity, to which I
was able to find no better repartee than a profound and I trust
graceful reverence.

'French prisoners are very well in their place,' she said, 'but I
cannot see that their place is in my private dining-room.'

'Madam,' said I, 'I hope it may be said without offence, but
(except the Castle of Edinburgh) I cannot think upon the spot from
which I would so readily be absent.'

At this, to my relief, I thought I could perceive a vestige of a
smile to steal upon that iron countenance and to be bitten
immediately in.

'And if it is a fair question, what do they call ye?' she asked.

'At your service, the Vicomte Anne de St.-Yves,' said I.

'Mosha the Viscount,' said she, 'I am afraid you do us plain people
a great deal too much honour.'

'My dear lady,' said I, 'let us be serious for a moment.  What was
I to do?  Where was I to go?  And how can you be angry with these
benevolent children who took pity on one so unfortunate as myself?
Your humble servant is no such terrific adventurer that you should
come out against him with horse-pistol and'--smiling--'bedroom
candlesticks.  It is but a young gentleman in extreme distress,
hunted upon every side, and asking no more than to escape from his
pursuers.  I know your character, I read it in your face'--the
heart trembled in my body as I said these daring words.  'There are
unhappy English prisoners in France at this day, perhaps at this
hour.  Perhaps at this hour they kneel as I do; they take the hand
of her who might conceal and assist them; they press it to their
lips as I do--'

'Here, here!' cried the old lady, breaking from my solicitations.
'Behave yourself before folk!  Saw ever anyone the match of that?
And on earth, my dears, what are we to do with him?'

'Pack him off, my dear lady,' said I:  'pack off the impudent
fellow double-quick!  And if it may be, and if your good heart
allows it, help him a little on the way he has to go.'

'What's this pie?' she cried stridently.  'Where is this pie from,
Flora?'

No answer was vouchsafed by my unfortunate and (I may say) extinct
accomplices.

'Is that my port?' she pursued.  'Hough!  Will somebody give me a
glass of my port wine?'

I made haste to serve her.

She looked at me over the rim with an extraordinary expression.  'I
hope ye liked it?' said she.

'It is even a magnificent wine,' said I.

'Aweel, it was my father laid it down,' said she.  'There were few
knew more about port wine than my father, God rest him!'  She
settled herself in a chair with an alarming air of resolution.
'And so there is some particular direction that you wish to go in?'
said she.

'O,' said I, following her example, 'I am by no means such a
vagrant as you suppose.  I have good friends, if I could get to
them, for which all I want is to be once clear of Scotland; and I
have money for the road.'  And I produced my bundle.

'English bank-notes?' she said.  'That's not very handy for
Scotland.  It's been some fool of an Englishman that's given you
these, I'm thinking.  How much is it?'

'I declare to heaven I never thought to count!' I exclaimed.  'But
that is soon remedied.'

And I counted out ten notes of ten pound each, all in the name of
Abraham Newlands, and five bills of country bankers for as many
guineas.

'One hundred and twenty six pound five,' cried the old lady.  'And
you carry such a sum about you, and have not so much as counted it!
If you are not a thief, you must allow you are very thief-like.'

'And yet, madam, the money is legitimately mine,' said I.

She took one of the bills and held it up.  'Is there any
probability, now, that this could be traced?' she asked.

'None, I should suppose; and if it were, it would be no matter,'
said I.  'With your usual penetration, you guessed right.  An
Englishman brought it me.  It reached me, through the hands of his
English solicitor, from my great-uncle, the Comte de Keroual de
Saint-Yves, I believe the richest emigre in London.'

'I can do no more than take your word for it,' said she.

'And I trust, madam, not less,' said I.

'Well,' said she, 'at this rate the matter may be feasible.  I will
cash one of these five-guinea bills, less the exchange, and give
you silver and Scots notes to bear you as far as the border.
Beyond that, Mosha the Viscount, you will have to depend upon
yourself.'

I could not but express a civil hesitation as to whether the amount
would suffice, in my case, for so long a journey.

'Ay,' said she, 'but you havenae heard me out.  For if you are not
too fine a gentleman to travel with a pair of drovers, I believe I
have found the very thing, and the Lord forgive me for a
treasonable old wife!  There are a couple stopping up by with the
shepherd-man at the farm; to-morrow they will take the road for
England, probably by skriegh of day--and in my opinion you had best
be travelling with the stots,' said she.

'For Heaven's sake do not suppose me to be so effeminate a
character!' I cried.  'An old soldier of Napoleon is certainly
beyond suspicion.  But, dear lady, to what end? and how is the
society of these excellent gentlemen supposed to help me?'

'My dear sir,' said she, 'you do not at all understand your own
predicament, and must just leave your matters in the hands of those
who do.  I dare say you have never even heard tell of the drove-
roads or the drovers; and I am certainly not going to sit up all
night to explain it to you.  Suffice it, that it is me who is
arranging this affair--the more shame to me!--and that is the way
ye have to go.  Ronald,' she continued, 'away up-by to the
shepherds; rowst them out of their beds, and make it perfectly
distinct that Sim is not to leave till he has seen me.'

Ronald was nothing loath to escape from his aunt's neighbourhood,
and left the room and the cottage with a silent expedition that was
more like flight than mere obedience.  Meanwhile the old lady
turned to her niece.

'And I would like to know what we are to do with him the night!'
she cried.

'Ronald and I meant to put him in the hen-house,' said the
encrimsoned Flora.

'And I can tell you he is to go to no such a place,' replied the
aunt.  'Hen-house, indeed!  If a guest he is to be, he shall sleep
in no mortal hen-house.  Your room is the most fit, I think, if he
will consent to occupy it on so great a suddenty.  And as for you,
Flora, you shall sleep with me.'

I could not help admiring the prudence and tact of this old
dowager, and of course it was not for me to make objections.  Ere I
well knew how, I was alone with a flat candlestick, which is not
the most sympathetic of companions, and stood studying the snuff in
a frame of mind between triumph and chagrin.  All had gone well
with my flight:  the masterful lady who had arrogated to herself
the arrangement of the details gave me every confidence; and I saw
myself already arriving at my uncle's door.  But, alas! it was
another story with my love affair.  I had seen and spoken with her
alone; I had ventured boldly; I had been not ill received; I had
seen her change colour, had enjoyed the undissembled kindness of
her eyes; and now, in a moment, down comes upon the scene that
apocalyptic figure with the nightcap and the horse-pistol, and with
the very wind of her coming behold me separated from my love!
Gratitude and admiration contended in my breast with the extreme of
natural rancour.  My appearance in her house at past midnight had
an air (I could not disguise it from myself) that was insolent and
underhand, and could not but minister to the worst suspicions.  And
the old lady had taken it well.  Her generosity was no more to be
called in question than her courage, and I was afraid that her
intelligence would be found to match.  Certainly, Miss Flora had to
support some shrewd looks, and certainly she had been troubled.  I
could see but the one way before me:  to profit by an excellent
bed, to try to sleep soon, to be stirring early, and to hope for
some renewed occasion in the morning.  To have said so much and yet
to say no more, to go out into the world upon so half-hearted a
parting, was more than I could accept.

It is my belief that the benevolent fiend sat up all night to baulk
me.  She was at my bedside with a candle long ere day, roused me,
laid out for me a damnable misfit of clothes, and bade me pack my
own (which were wholly unsuited to the journey) in a bundle.  Sore
grudging, I arrayed myself in a suit of some country fabric, as
delicate as sackcloth and about as becoming as a shroud; and, on
coming forth, found the dragon had prepared for me a hearty
breakfast.  She took the head of the table, poured out the tea, and
entertained me as I ate with a great deal of good sense and a
conspicuous lack of charm.  How often did I not regret the change!-
-how often compare her, and condemn her in the comparison, with her
charming niece!  But if my entertainer was not beautiful, she had
certainly been busy in my interest.  Already she was in
communication with my destined fellow-travellers; and the device on
which she had struck appeared entirely suitable.  I was a young
Englishman who had outrun the constable; warrants were out against
me in Scotland, and it had become needful I should pass the border
without loss of time, and privately.

'I have given a very good account of you,' said she, 'which I hope
you may justify.  I told them there was nothing against you beyond
the fact that you were put to the haw (if that is the right word)
for debt.'

'I pray God you have the expression incorrectly, ma'am,' said I.
'I do not give myself out for a person easily alarmed; but you must
admit there is something barbarous and mediaeval in the sound well
qualified to startle a poor foreigner.'

'It is the name of a process in Scots Law, and need alarm no honest
man,' said she.  'But you are a very idle-minded young gentleman;
you must still have your joke, I see:  I only hope you will have no
cause to regret it.'

'I pray you not to suppose, because I speak lightly, that I do not
feel deeply,' said I.  'Your kindness has quite conquered me; I lay
myself at your disposition, I beg you to believe, with real
tenderness; I pray you to consider me from henceforth as the most
devoted of your friends.'

'Well, well,' she said, 'here comes your devoted friend the drover.
I'm thinking he will be eager for the road; and I will not be easy
myself till I see you well off the premises, and the dishes washed,
before my servant-woman wakes.  Praise God, we have gotten one that
is a treasure at the sleeping!'

The morning was already beginning to be blue in the trees of the
garden, and to put to shame the candle by which I had breakfasted.
The lady rose from table, and I had no choice but to follow her
example.  All the time I was beating my brains for any means by
which I should be able to get a word apart with Flora, or find the
time to write her a billet.  The windows had been open while I
breakfasted, I suppose to ventilate the room from any traces of my
passage there; and, Master Ronald appearing on the front lawn, my
ogre leaned forth to address him.

'Ronald,' she said, 'wasn't that Sim that went by the wall?'

I snatched my advantage.  Right at her back there was pen, ink, and
paper laid out.  I wrote:  'I love you'; and before I had time to
write more, or so much as to blot what I had written, I was again
under the guns of the gold eyeglasses.

'It's time,' she began; and then, as she observed my occupation,
'Umph!' she broke off.  'Ye have something to write?' she demanded.

'Some notes, madam,' said I, bowing with alacrity.

'Notes,' she said; 'or a note?'

'There is doubtless some finesse of the English language that I do
not comprehend,' said I.

'I'll contrive, however, to make my meaning very plain to ye, Mosha
le Viscount,' she continued.  'I suppose you desire to be
considered a gentleman?'

'Can you doubt it, madam?' said I.

'I doubt very much, at least, whether you go to the right way about
it,' she said.  'You have come here to me, I cannot very well say
how; I think you will admit you owe me some thanks, if it was only
for the breakfast I made ye.  But what are you to me?  A waif young
man, not so far to seek for looks and manners, with some English
notes in your pocket and a price upon your head.  I am a lady; I
have been your hostess, with however little will; and I desire that
this random acquaintance of yours with my family will cease and
determine.'