CHAPTER XXXVII.
A CAVALIER'S WOOING.
John Graham assured himself that none of the servants were in the room,and then he said:
"I have sure informations from one Birsay Smith, a cobbler, by which Ihave my hand as good as upon the throat of that arch-fanatic, AnthonyLennox of the Duchrae, and also upon Sandy Gordon of Earlstoun, hisyounger brother William, Maclellan of Barscobe, and some others. It willbe a great taking, for there is a long price on every head of them."
"Think you, John," said Balmaghie, shrewdly, "that you will addEarlstoun and Barscobe to your new lands of Freuch?"
"Nay," said Clavers, "that is past hoping. They will give them to theirEnglish colonels, Oglethorpe and the like. Aye, even though, at my ownrequest, I had the promise from the Council of the estates of any that Ishould find cause of forfeiture against, a thing which is only my due.But as by this time you may know, a plain soldier hath small chanceamong the wiles of the courtiers."
"I question, John, if thou hadst all Galloway and Nidsdale to boot, thouwouldst be happy, even with the fairest maid therein, for one shortweek. Thou wouldst be longing to have Boscobel out, saddled and bridled,and be off to the Whig-hunting with a 'Ho-Tally-Ho!' For that is thyway, John!"
Claverhouse laughed a little stern laugh like a man that is forced tolaugh at himself, yet is somedeal proud of what he hears.
"It is true," he said. "There is no hunting like this hunting of men,which the King's service sees in these days. It makes it worth living tokeep the crown of the moorland with one's company of dragoons, like aman hefting lambs on a sheep farm; and know that no den, no knowe, nomoss, no hill has been left unsearched for the King's rebels."
"And how speeds the wooing, John?" I heard Balmaghie say after a littlepause, and the opening of another bottle.
For I thought it no shame to listen, since the lives of all that weredear to me, as well as my own, were in this man's power. And, besides, Iknew very well that Kate McGhie had put me in this place, that I mightgain good intelligence of the intentions of the great captain of theman-hunters.
Clavers sat awhile silent. He looked long and scrupulously at his finewhite hand and fingered the lace ruffle upon his sleeve.
"It was of that mainly that I came to speak to you, Roger. Truth totell, it does not prosper to my mind."
"Hath the fair Jean proved unkind?" said Roger McGhie, looking over atClaverhouse, with a quiet smile in his eye.
John Graham leaned back in his chair with a quick amused look and threwback his clustering love locks.
"No," he said; "there is, I think, little fear of that."
"What then is the difficulty--her mother?"
"Aye," said Claverhouse, "that is more like it. Yet though the LadyDundonald drills me and flytes me and preaches at me, I care not somuch. For like the hardships of life, that will come to an end.Nevertheless, I own that at times I am tempted to take the lady at mysaddle-bow, and ride out from Paisley to return no more."
"You will not do that, John!" said Balmaghie quietly, with a certainlight of irony in his eye.
Claverhouse looked up quickly.
"How so, Balmaghie?" he said, and I saw through my little slant wicketthe pride grow in his eye.
"The forty thousand marks, John."
Claverhouse struck his hand on the table.
"Thank you----" he said coldly, and then for a moment was silent.
"There is no man that dare say that to me but yourself, Roger McGhie,"he added.
"No," said the Laird of Balmaghie, sipping at his canary, "and that iswhy you rode over to see me to-night, John--a silly old man in a dullhouse, instead of guzzling at Kirkcudbright with Winram and theburgesses and bailies thereof. You are a four-square, truth-telling man,and yet hear little of it, save at the house of Balmaghie."
Claverhouse still said nothing, but stared at the table, from which thecloth had been removed.
The elder man reached over and put his hand on the sleeve of theyounger.
"Why, John," he said softly, "pluck up heart and do nothing hastily--asI know thou wilt not. Forty thousand marks is not to be despised. Itwill help thee mightily with Freuch and Dudhope. It is worth having thyears soundly boxed once or twice for a persecutor, by a covenantingmother-in-law."
"But that is not the worst of it, Roger," said Claverhouse, who hadgotten over his pique; "my enemies lay it against me to York and theKing, that I frequent a suspected and disloyal house. They will put medown as they put down Aberdeen----"
At this moment I felt a hand upon my arm. It was that of Kate McGhie.She drew me out of the closet where Alisoun had bestowed me, intending,as she intimated, to come cosily in beside me when she had washed thedishes. But Kate took me by the hand, and together we passed out intothe cool night. Wat met us by the outer gate. He was standing in theshadow. There was then no time for me to tell Kate what I had heardClaverhouse reveal to the laird of his intentions regarding Anton Lennoxand my brother Sandy. To which there was added a further greatuncertainty, lest Birsay had been able to add to his other informationsan account of my mother's hiding-place and our own disguises. Nay, eventhough he had not already done so, there was no saying how soon thismight come about.
However, as we stood conferring a moment together, there was one camerunning hastily from the house to the stables, carrying a lantern.
Then in a little, out of the stable door came clattering the war-horseof the commander of dragoons.
William McCutcheon, the serving-man and chief groom of the stables, ledBoscobel with a certain awe, as if he might actually be leading theAccuser of the Brethren, haltered and accoutred.
He had not been at the door a minute, when Claverhouse come out and wentdown the steps, drawing on his riding gauntlets as he came. Roger McGhiewalked behind him carrying burning candles in a great silver triplecandlestick. He held the light aloft in his hand while the cavaliermounted with a free, easy swing into the saddle; and, gathering thereins in his hand, turned to bid his host adieu. "Be a wee canny withthe next Whig ye catch, for the sake of your ain bonny Whiggie, JeanCochrane!" cried Roger McGhie of Balmaghie, holding the cresset highabove his head.
"Deil a fear!" laughed Clavers, gaily waving his hand. "Tis not in thepower of love or any other folly to alter my loyalty."
"Pshaw!" said the laird; "then, John, be assured ye ken nothing aboutthe matter."
But Claverhouse was already clattering across the cobble stones of theyard. We drew back into the deep shadow of the bushes and he passed us,a noble figure of a man sitting slenderly erect on his black horseBoscobel, and so riding out into the night, like a prince of darknessgoing forth to war.
* * * * *
That night, down in the little holding of Waterside, upon the broadmeadows of the Dee, we held a council. My mother was for setting outforthwith to look after her son Sandy.
But I gently dissuaded her, telling her that Sandy was far better leftto his own resources, than with her safety also to provide for.
"I daresay," said she, a little shortly; "but have you thought how I amlike to sleep when you are all away--when in every foot that comes bythe door, I hear the messenger who comes to tell me of my sons streekedstiff in their winding sheets?"
But, after all, we managed to persuade her to bide on at the Boatcroft,where little Margaret of Glen Vernock was to stay with her for company.As for the rest of us, we had information brought us by sure hands, ofthe hiding-places of Anton Lennox and the rest of the wanderers.
The maids were set upon accompanying us--Maisie Lennox to see herfather, and Kate McGhie because Maisie Lennox was going. But after along controversy we also prevailed on them to abide at home and wait forour return. Yet it came to me afterwards that I saw a look pass betweenthem, such as I had seen before, when it is in the heart of the womenfolk to play some trick upon the duller wits of mankind. It is as thoughthey said, "After all, what gulls these men be!"
So that night I slept with Wat in the gardener's
hut, and early in themorning we went down to the great house to bid the maids good-bye. Butthere we found only Alisoun Begbie. The nest was empty and the birdsflown. Only Roger McGhie was walking up and down the beech avenue of theold house, deep in thought. He had his hands behind his back, andsometimes the corners of his mouth seemed to smile through his gloomwith a curious pleasantry. Wat and I kept well out of his sight, and Icould not help wondering how much, after all, he understood of ourongoings. More than any of us thought at that time, I warrant, for itwas the man's humour to know much and say little.
Alisoun Begbie, who seemed not unwilling that we should stop andconverse with her, told us that after Clavers had departed, MistressKate had gone in to her father to tell him that she was going away for aspace of days.
"Mind, ye are not to rise before your ordinary in the morning, father,"she said; "I shall be gone by the dawn."
"Very well, Kate," he replied, continuing to draw off his coat andprepare for bed; "I shall sell the Boreland to pay the fine."
This was all he said; and having kissed his daughter good-night, calmlyand pleasantly as was his wont, he set a silken skull-cap on his crownand fell asleep.
Truly a remarkable man was Roger McGhie of Balmaghie.