The Men of the Moss-Hags
CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE GARDENER OF BALMAGHIE.
I was wakened one morning by Jean coming to the side of my bed. She wasfully dressed, as if to receive company, and her tall and straightfigure looked imposing enough.
"Rise!" she said. "Rise! there's a chiel here, that wants ye to gang wi'him."
"A chiel, Jean Gordon?" said I, in a sleepy kind of surprise. "What kenye aboot him?"
"Oh, I ken he's a honest lad," she said, "an' he brings ye a messagefrae the gardener o' Balmaghie that ye are to accompany him there forgreater safety."
"A likely story!" returned I, for I was none too well pleased to bewakened up out of my sleep at that time in the morning to see a regimentof Balmaghie gardeners. "There is great safety in the neighbourhood ofthe eagle's nest!"
"There is so," said Jean Gordon, dryly--"for sparrows. 'Tis the safestplace in the world for the like of them to build, for the eagle will nottouch them, an' the lesser gleds dare not come near."
Nor do I think that this saying pleased me over well, because I thoughtthat a Gordon of Earlstoun, of whatever rank, was a city set on a hillthat could not be hid.
Then Jean Gordon, the hermit of the Garpel glen, bade me an adieu,giving me an old-fashioned salutation as well, which savoured little ofhaving forgotten all that she had lightlied to me.
"Tak' tent to yoursel'," she said. "Ye are a good lad and none sofeckless as ye look. There's stuff and fushion in ye, an' ye micht eventak' the e'e o' woman--gin ye wad pad your legs."
And with this she went in, leaving me in a quandary whether to throw astone at her, or run back and take her round the neck.
I found the gardener of Balmaghie standing with his back towards me. Hewalked on a little before me without speaking, as though wishing me tofollow him. He was, to the back view, dressed but ordinarily, yet withsome of the neatness of a proper gentleman's servant.
And this was a great deal in a country where for common the men wearlittle that is handsome, save and except the Sabbath cloak--which if itdo not, like charity, cover a multitude of sins, of a truth hides amultitude of old duddy clothes.
At the foot of the burn, where by the bridge it runs over some black andrugged rocks, the gardener stopped and turned round. I declare I nevergat a greater or more pleasant surprise in my life, save as it may be,once--of what I have yet to tell.
"Wat, dear Wat!" I cried, and ran to him. We clasped one another'shands, and then we stood a little off, gazing each at the other. I hadnot known that I was so fond of him. But nothing draws the heart likecoming through trials together. At least, so it is with men. 'Twixtwomen and men so many things draw the heart, that it is well-nighimpossible to separate one thing from the other.
"How came Jean Gordon to say that you were the gardener at Balmaghie?" Iasked of him, when I was a little satisfied with looking at him.
"Why, because I am the gardener at Balmaghie--second gardener!" answeredWat, smiling in a sly way that he had when he meant to provoke andmystify me. Yet a way that I liked not ill, for he never used it savewhen he had within him a light and merry heart.
But I knew by this time how to counter his stroke, which was to holdone's peace, as if one cared nothing about the matter. For in this Watwas just like a woman, or a fencer, whom it provokes more to measure athrust and avoid, than a hundred times to parry and return.
But for all I could not keep the anxiety out of my eyes as we walkedalong.
"You do not want to hear," said he, provoking me; for because of MaisieLennox and my mother, he knew that he had the better of me.
"But I do, though!" That was all I could say.
For indeed the matter was a mystery to me, as well it might be. WatGordon of Lochinvar, sometime favourite of her Grace the Duchess ofWellwood, now gardener to a latitudinarian and cavalier Galloway laird,that had been a ferlie even on a day of miracles.
Wat continued to smile and smile.
"Well, I will tell you," he said. Yet for a while did not, but onlywalked on smiling.
At last he pursed his mouth and began to whistle. It was a bar or two ofthe air "Kate Kennedy is my darling."
Now at that time I own that I was not bright in the uptake about suchthings. For I had not till lately concerned me much with love andwomen's favours, but it came across me all in an instant.
"Oh!" I said.
"Ah!" said Wat.
And we looked at one another and nodded--Wat defiantly.
"Kate of the black eyebrows!" I said musingly. "They are joined over herbrow," I went on, "and her ear comes straight down to her neck withoutany rounded lobe. They are two well-considered signs!"
Wat Gordon stopped suddenly, and cried out at me.
"See here, William Gordon, what mean you by that? What if her eyebrowsmeet under her chin and her ears hang down like band strings? What isthat to you?"
"Happily nothing!" said I--for I was patiently paying him out, as it isever easy to do with a spit-fire like young Lochinvar.
"Speak plain, Will," he cried, "or by the Lord I will immediately runyou through!"
"With a spade," said I, mocking. "Mind, Wat, you are a laird's secondgardener now."
But when I perceived that he was really angry, I hastened to appeasehim.
"Joined eyebrows and lobeless ear have been held by learned folk toprefigure some temper, Wat!" I said.
His brow cleared on an instant.
"Pshaw!" he exclaimed, "I like a lass with a sparkle. No mim missie forWat Gordon of Lochinvar, but a lass that keeps you in doubt till thelast moment, whether your best wooing will speed you to a kiss or abodkin-prick--that's the maid for me!"
"For me, I would e'en take the kiss," I said--"take it plain!"
"Tush, slow-coach!" he said, "your Earlstoun blood always did run likeso much moss water!"
Now I had borne the burden of the day on the moss of Ayr, and felt thatI need not take his scornful word.
"I have been where other than women's bodkins flashed--aye, ten againsta hundred, and this was the only brand that wan through," I said,putting my hand on my side. "There was small time for kisses then! Yemay kiss your lass gin ye like, about the woods of Balmaghie. As for me,I prefer to ride upon Cameron's flank, on a day when the garments arerolled in blood."
This I said dourly, for my gall was working hot within me. So far fromour first friendship had the clack of foolish tongues brought us. 'Deed,we were but silly boys that needed skelping, but I far the worst, for myhead was by nature cooler and I knew better all the while.
"And so perhaps would I have preferred it," answered he gently.
"Aye," said he again, "I think it is somewhat late in the day for WatGordon of Lochinvar, to have to prove his courage upon his cousinWilliam of Earlstoun. So then, take it from me that but for my oathsworn to the King, it had been more pleasure to ride with you in thecharge at Ayrsmoss, than to be bridegroom to any maid soever in theworld!"
And at the name of the King, he lifted his worn old countryman's bonnetas nobly and loyally as though it had been the plumed hat, whose featherhad been so proudly set that night when he defied heaven and hell tokeep him from his tryst beyond the Netherbow.
At the word I stretched out my hand to him.
"Forgive me, Wat," I said, and would have taken his arm, but he moved ita little away for a moment.
"Pray remember," he said grandly, "that though I am a jerkined man andhandle the mattock in another man's kail yaird,--aye, though I be put tothe horn and condemned unheard as a traitor, I am true King's man. Vivele Roi!"
"Well," replied I, "so be it, and much good may it do you. At any rate,there is no need to make such a work about it. After all, gin ye be atthe horn, it's Guid's truth that ye gied Duke Wellwood's lads some mostunmerciful jags aneath the ribs!"
While thus we snarled and fought between ourselves, the very strife ofour tongues made the legs go faster, and we drew southward between thetwo lochs, Ken and Grenoch, crossing over the Black Water and leavingthe Duchrae behind. And this made me
very wae, to mind the days that wehad there, with that brave company which should meet no more on theearth together.