Kidnapped

  CHAPTER XXIII

  CLUNY'S CAGE

  We came at last to the foot of an exceeding steep wood, which scrambledup a craggy hillside, and was crowned by a naked precipice.

  "It's here," said one of the guides, and we struck up hill.

  The trees clung upon the slope, like sailors on the shrouds of a ship,and their trunks were like the rounds of a ladder, by which we mounted.

  Quite at the top, and just before the rocky face of the cliff sprangabove the foliage, we found that strange house which was known in thecountry as "Cluny's Cage." The trunks of several trees had been wattledacross, the intervals strengthened with stakes, and the ground behindthis barricade levelled up with earth to make the floor. A tree, whichgrew out from the hillside, was the living centre-beam of the roof.The walls were of wattle and covered with moss. The whole house hadsomething of an egg shape; and it half hung, half stood in that steep,hillside thicket, like a wasp's nest in a green hawthorn.

  Within, it was large enough to shelter five or six persons with somecomfort. A projection of the cliff had been cunningly employed to be thefireplace; and the smoke rising against the face of the rock, and beingnot dissimilar in colour, readily escaped notice from below.

  This was but one of Cluny's hiding-places; he had caves, besides, andunderground chambers in several parts of his country; and following thereports of his scouts, he moved from one to another as the soldiersdrew near or moved away. By this manner of living, and thanks to theaffection of his clan, he had not only stayed all this time in safety,while so many others had fled or been taken and slain: but stayed fouror five years longer, and only went to France at last by the expresscommand of his master. There he soon died; and it is strange to reflectthat he may have regretted his Cage upon Ben Alder.

  When we came to the door he was seated by his rock chimney, watching agillie about some cookery. He was mighty plainly habited, with a knittednightcap drawn over his ears, and smoked a foul cutty pipe. For all thathe had the manners of a king, and it was quite a sight to see him riseout of his place to welcome us.

  "Well, Mr. Stewart, come awa', sir!" said he, "and bring in your friendthat as yet I dinna ken the name of."

  "And how is yourself, Cluny?" said Alan. "I hope ye do brawly, sir. AndI am proud to see ye, and to present to ye my friend the Laird of Shaws,Mr. David Balfour."

  Alan never referred to my estate without a touch of a sneer, when wewere alone; but with strangers, he rang the words out like a herald.

  "Step in by, the both of ye, gentlemen," says Cluny. "I make ye welcometo my house, which is a queer, rude place for certain, but one where Ihave entertained a royal personage, Mr. Stewart--ye doubtless ken thepersonage I have in my eye. We'll take a dram for luck, and as soon asthis handless man of mine has the collops ready, we'll dine and take ahand at the cartes as gentlemen should. My life is a bit driegh," sayshe, pouring out the brandy; "I see little company, and sit and twirl mythumbs, and mind upon a great day that is gone by, and weary for anothergreat day that we all hope will be upon the road. And so here's a toastto ye: The Restoration!"

  Thereupon we all touched glasses and drank. I am sure I wished no illto King George; and if he had been there himself in proper person, it'slike he would have done as I did. No sooner had I taken out the drainthan I felt hugely better, and could look on and listen, still a littlemistily perhaps, but no longer with the same groundless horror anddistress of mind.

  It was certainly a strange place, and we had a strange host. In his longhiding, Cluny had grown to have all manner of precise habits, like thoseof an old maid. He had a particular place, where no one else must sit;the Cage was arranged in a particular way, which none must disturb;cookery was one of his chief fancies, and even while he was greeting usin, he kept an eye to the collops.

  It appears, he sometimes visited or received visits from his wife andone or two of his nearest friends, under the cover of night; but for themore part lived quite alone, and communicated only with his sentinelsand the gillies that waited on him in the Cage. The first thing in themorning, one of them, who was a barber, came and shaved him, and gavehim the news of the country, of which he was immoderately greedy. Therewas no end to his questions; he put them as earnestly as a child; andat some of the answers, laughed out of all bounds of reason, and wouldbreak out again laughing at the mere memory, hours after the barber wasgone.

  To be sure, there might have been a purpose in his questions; forthough he was thus sequestered, and like the other landed gentlemen ofScotland, stripped by the late Act of Parliament of legal powers, hestill exercised a patriarchal justice in his clan. Disputes were broughtto him in his hiding-hole to be decided; and the men of his country,who would have snapped their fingers at the Court of Session, laidaside revenge and paid down money at the bare word of this forfeited andhunted outlaw. When he was angered, which was often enough, he gavehis commands and breathed threats of punishment like any king; and hisgillies trembled and crouched away from him like children before a hastyfather. With each of them, as he entered, he ceremoniously shook hands,both parties touching their bonnets at the same time in a militarymanner. Altogether, I had a fair chance to see some of the innerworkings of a Highland clan; and this with a proscribed, fugitive chief;his country conquered; the troops riding upon all sides in quest ofhim, sometimes within a mile of where he lay; and when the least of theragged fellows whom he rated and threatened, could have made a fortuneby betraying him.

  On that first day, as soon as the collops were ready, Cluny gave themwith his own hand a squeeze of a lemon (for he was well supplied withluxuries) and bade us draw in to our meal.

  "They," said he, meaning the collops, "are such as I gave his RoyalHighness in this very house; bating the lemon juice, for at that time wewere glad to get the meat and never fashed for kitchen.* Indeed, therewere mair dragoons than lemons in my country in the year forty-six."

  * Condiment.

  I do not know if the collops were truly very good, but my heart roseagainst the sight of them, and I could eat but little. All the whileCluny entertained us with stories of Prince Charlie's stay in the Cage,giving us the very words of the speakers, and rising from his placeto show us where they stood. By these, I gathered the Prince was agracious, spirited boy, like the son of a race of polite kings, but notso wise as Solomon. I gathered, too, that while he was in the Cage, hewas often drunk; so the fault that has since, by all accounts, made sucha wreck of him, had even then begun to show itself.

  We were no sooner done eating than Cluny brought out an old, thumbed,greasy pack of cards, such as you may find in a mean inn; and his eyesbrightened in his face as he proposed that we should fall to playing.

  Now this was one of the things I had been brought up to eschew likedisgrace; it being held by my father neither the part of a Christiannor yet of a gentleman to set his own livelihood and fish for that ofothers, on the cast of painted pasteboard. To be sure, I might havepleaded my fatigue, which was excuse enough; but I thought it behovedthat I should bear a testimony. I must have got very red in the face,but I spoke steadily, and told them I had no call to be a judgeof others, but for my own part, it was a matter in which I had noclearness.

  Cluny stopped mingling the cards. "What in deil's name is this?" sayshe. "What kind of Whiggish, canting talk is this, for the house of ClunyMacpherson?"

  "I will put my hand in the fire for Mr. Balfour," says Alan. "He is anhonest and a mettle gentleman, and I would have ye bear in mind who saysit. I bear a king's name," says he, cocking his hat; "and I and any thatI call friend are company for the best. But the gentleman is tired, andshould sleep; if he has no mind to the cartes, it will never hinder youand me. And I'm fit and willing, sir, to play ye any game that ye canname."

  "Sir," says Cluny, "in this poor house of mine I would have you to kenthat any gentleman may follow his pleasure. If your friend would like tostand on his head, he is welcome. And if either he, or you, or any otherman, is not preceesely satisfied, I will be proud to step o
utside withhim."

  I had no will that these two friends should cut their throats for mysake.

  "Sir," said I, "I am very wearied, as Alan says; and what's more, asyou are a man that likely has sons of your own, I may tell you it was apromise to my father."

  "Say nae mair, say nae mair," said Cluny, and pointed me to a bed ofheather in a corner of the Cage. For all that he was displeased enough,looked at me askance, and grumbled when he looked. And indeed it mustbe owned that both my scruples and the words in which I declared them,smacked somewhat of the Covenanter, and were little in their place amongwild Highland Jacobites.

  What with the brandy and the venison, a strange heaviness had come overme; and I had scarce lain down upon the bed before I fell into a kindof trance, in which I continued almost the whole time of our stay in theCage. Sometimes I was broad awake and understood what passed; sometimesI only heard voices, or men snoring, like the voice of a silly river;and the plaids upon the wall dwindled down and swelled out again, likefirelight shadows on the roof. I must sometimes have spoken or criedout, for I remember I was now and then amazed at being answered; yetI was conscious of no particular nightmare, only of a general, black,abiding horror--a horror of the place I was in, and the bed I lay in,and the plaids on the wall, and the voices, and the fire, and myself.

  The barber-gillie, who was a doctor too, was called in to prescribefor me; but as he spoke in the Gaelic, I understood not a word of hisopinion, and was too sick even to ask for a translation. I knew wellenough I was ill, and that was all I cared about.

  I paid little heed while I lay in this poor pass. But Alan and Clunywere most of the time at the cards, and I am clear that Alan must havebegun by winning; for I remember sitting up, and seeing them hard at it,and a great glittering pile of as much as sixty or a hundred guineas onthe table. It looked strange enough, to see all this wealth in a nestupon a cliff-side, wattled about growing trees. And even then, Ithought it seemed deep water for Alan to be riding, who had no betterbattle-horse than a green purse and a matter of five pounds.

  The luck, it seems, changed on the second day. About noon I was wakenedas usual for dinner, and as usual refused to eat, and was given a dramwith some bitter infusion which the barber had prescribed. The sun wasshining in at the open door of the Cage, and this dazzled and offendedme. Cluny sat at the table, biting the pack of cards. Alan had stoopedover the bed, and had his face close to my eyes; to which, troubled asthey were with the fever, it seemed of the most shocking bigness.

  He asked me for a loan of my money.

  "What for?" said I.

  "O, just for a loan," said he.

  "But why?" I repeated. "I don't see."

  "Hut, David!" said Alan, "ye wouldnae grudge me a loan?"

  I would, though, if I had had my senses! But all I thought of then wasto get his face away, and I handed him my money.

  On the morning of the third day, when we had been forty-eight hours inthe Cage, I awoke with a great relief of spirits, very weak and wearyindeed, but seeing things of the right size and with their honest,everyday appearance. I had a mind to eat, moreover, rose from bed of myown movement, and as soon as we had breakfasted, stepped to the entry ofthe Cage and sat down outside in the top of the wood. It was a grey daywith a cool, mild air: and I sat in a dream all morning, only disturbedby the passing by of Cluny's scouts and servants coming with provisionsand reports; for as the coast was at that time clear, you might almostsay he held court openly.

  When I returned, he and Alan had laid the cards aside, and werequestioning a gillie; and the chief turned about and spoke to me in theGaelic.

  "I have no Gaelic, sir," said I.

  Now since the card question, everything I said or did had the power ofannoying Cluny. "Your name has more sense than yourself, then," said heangrily, "for it's good Gaelic. But the point is this. My scout reportsall clear in the south, and the question is, have ye the strength togo?"

  I saw cards on the table, but no gold; only a heap of little writtenpapers, and these all on Cluny's side. Alan, besides, had an oddlook, like a man not very well content; and I began to have a strongmisgiving.

  "I do not know if I am as well as I should be," said I, looking at Alan;"but the little money we have has a long way to carry us."

  Alan took his under-lip into his mouth, and looked upon the ground.

  "David," says he at last, "I've lost it; there's the naked truth."

  "My money too?" said I.

  "Your money too," says Alan, with a groan. "Ye shouldnae have given itme. I'm daft when I get to the cartes."

  "Hoot-toot! hoot-toot!" said Cluny. "It was all daffing; it's allnonsense. Of course you'll have your money back again, and the double ofit, if ye'll make so free with me. It would be a singular thing for meto keep it. It's not to be supposed that I would be any hindrance togentlemen in your situation; that would be a singular thing!" cries he,and began to pull gold out of his pocket with a mighty red face.

  Alan said nothing, only looked on the ground.

  "Will you step to the door with me, sir?" said I.

  Cluny said he would be very glad, and followed me readily enough, but helooked flustered and put out.

  "And now, sir," says I, "I must first acknowledge your generosity."

  "Nonsensical nonsense!" cries Cluny. "Where's the generosity? This isjust a most unfortunate affair; but what would ye have me do--boxedup in this bee-skep of a cage of mine--but just set my friends to thecartes, when I can get them? And if they lose, of course, it's not to besupposed----" And here he came to a pause.

  "Yes," said I, "if they lose, you give them back their money; and ifthey win, they carry away yours in their pouches! I have said beforethat I grant your generosity; but to me, sir, it's a very painful thingto be placed in this position."

  There was a little silence, in which Cluny seemed always as if he wasabout to speak, but said nothing. All the time he grew redder and redderin the face.

  "I am a young man," said I, "and I ask your advice. Advise me as youwould your son. My friend fairly lost his money, after having fairlygained a far greater sum of yours; can I accept it back again? Wouldthat be the right part for me to play? Whatever I do, you can see foryourself it must be hard upon a man of any pride."

  "It's rather hard on me, too, Mr. Balfour," said Cluny, "and ye giveme very much the look of a man that has entrapped poor people to theirhurt. I wouldnae have my friends come to any house of mine to acceptaffronts; no," he cried, with a sudden heat of anger, "nor yet to givethem!"

  "And so you see, sir," said I, "there is something to be said upon myside; and this gambling is a very poor employ for gentlefolks. But I amstill waiting your opinion."

  I am sure if ever Cluny hated any man it was David Balfour. He lookedme all over with a warlike eye, and I saw the challenge at his lips.But either my youth disarmed him, or perhaps his own sense of justice.Certainly it was a mortifying matter for all concerned, and not leastCluny; the more credit that he took it as he did.

  "Mr. Balfour," said he, "I think you are too nice and covenanting, butfor all that you have the spirit of a very pretty gentleman. Upon myhonest word, ye may take this money--it's what I would tell my son--andhere's my hand along with it!"