David Balfour

  CHAPTER XI

  THE WOOD BY SILVERMILLS

  I lost no time, but down through the valley and by Stockbrig andSilvermills as hard as I could stave. It was Alan's tryst to lie everynight between twelve and two "in a bit scrog of wood by east ofSilvermills and by south the south mill-lade." This I found easy enough,where it grew on a steep brae, with the mill-lade flowing swift and deepalong the foot of it; and here I began to walk slower and to reflectmore reasonably on my employment. I saw I had made but a fool's bargainwith Catriona. It was not to be supposed that Neil was sent alone uponhis errand, but perhaps he was the only man belonging to James More; inwhich case, I should have done all I could to hang Catriona's father,and nothing the least material to help myself. To tell the truth, Ifancied neither one of these ideas. Suppose, by holding back Neil, thegirl should have helped to hang her father, I thought she would neverforgive herself this side of time. And suppose there were otherspursuing me that moment, what kind of a gift was I come bringing toAlan? and how would I like that?

  I was up with the west end of that wood when these two considerationsstruck me like a cudgel. My feet stopped of themselves and my heartalong with them. "What wild game is this that I have been playing?"thought I; and turned instantly upon my heels to go elsewhere.

  This brought my face to Silvermills; the path came past the village witha crook, but all plainly visible; and, Highland or Lowland, there wasnobody stirring. Here was my advantage, here was just such a conjunctureas Stewart had counselled me to profit by, and I ran by the side of themill-lade, fetched about beyond the east corner of the wood, threadedthrough the midst of it, and returned to the west selvage, whence Icould again command the path, and yet be myself unseen. Again it was allempty, and my heart began to rise.

  For more than an hour I sat close in the border of the trees, and nohare or eagle could have kept a more particular watch. When that hourbegan the sun was already set, but the sky still all golden and thedaylight clear; before the hour was done it had fallen to be half mirk,the images and distances of things were mingled, and observation beganto be difficult. All that time not a foot of man had come east fromSilvermills, and the few that had gone west were honest countryfolk andtheir wives upon the road to bed. If I were tracked by the most cunningspies in Europe, I judged it was beyond the course of nature they couldhave any jealousy of where I was; and going a little further home intothe wood I lay down to wait for Alan.

  The strain of my attention had been great, for I had watched not thepath only, but every bush and field within my vision. That was now at anend. The moon, which was in her first quarter, glinted a little in thewood; all round there was a stillness of the country; and as I lay thereon my back, the next three or four hours, I had a fine occasion toreview my conduct.

  Two things became plain to me first: that I had had no right to go thatday to Dean, and (having gone there) had now no right to be lying whereI was. This (where Alan was to come) was just the one wood in all broadScotland that was, by every proper feeling, closed against me; Iadmitted that, and yet stayed on, wondering at myself. I thought of themeasure with which I had meted to Catriona that same night; how I hadprated of the two lives I carried, and had thus forced her to enjeopardyher father's; and how I was here exposing them again, it seemed inwantonness. A good conscience is eight parts of courage. No sooner had Ilost conceit of my behaviour, than I seemed to stand disarmed amidst athrong of terrors. Of a sudden I sat up. How if I went now toPrestongrange, caught him (as I still easily might) before he slept, andmade a full submission? Who could blame me? Not Stewart the writer; Ihad but to say that I was followed, despaired of getting clear, and sogave in. Not Catriona: here, too, I had my answer ready; that I couldnot bear she should expose her father. So, in a moment, I could lay allthese troubles by, which were after all and truly none of mine; swimclear of the Appin murder; get forth out of handstroke of all theStewarts and Campbells, all the whigs and tories, in the land; and livethenceforth to my own mind, and be able to enjoy and to improve myfortunes, and devote some hours of my youth to courting Catriona, whichwould be surely a more suitable occupation than to hide and run and befollowed like a hunted thief, and begin over again the dreadful miseriesof my escape with Alan.

  At first I thought no shame of this capitulation; I was only amazed Ihad not thought upon the thing and done it earlier; and began to inquireinto the causes of the change. These I traced to my lowness of spirits,that back to my late recklessness, and that again to the common, old,public, disconsidered sin of self-indulgence. Instantly the text came inmy head, "_How can Satan cast out Satan?_" What? (I thought) I had, byself-indulgence, and the following of pleasant paths, and the lure of ayoung maid, cast myself wholly out of conceit with my own character, andjeopardised the lives of James and Alan? And I was to seek the way outby the same road as I had entered in? No; the hurt that had been causedby self-indulgence must be cured by self-denial; the flesh I hadpampered must be crucified. I looked about me for that course which Ileast liked to follow: this was to leave the wood without waiting to seeAlan, and go forth again alone, in the dark and in the midst of myperplexed and dangerous fortunes.

  I have been the more careful to narrate this passage of my reflections,because I think it is of some utility, and may serve as an example toyoung men. But there is reason (they say) in planting kale, and even inethic and religion, room for common sense. It was already close onAlan's hour, and the moon was down. If I left (as I could not verydecently whistle to my spies to follow me) they might miss me in thedark and tack themselves to Alan by mistake. If I stayed, I could at theleast of it set my friend upon his guard which might prove his meresalvation. I had adventured other peoples' safety in a course ofself-indulgence; to have endangered them again, and now on a mere designof penance, would have been scarce rational. Accordingly, I had scarcerisen from my place ere I sat down again, but already in a differentframe of spirits, and equally marvelling at my past weakness andrejoicing in my present composure.

  Presently after came a crackling in the thicket. Putting my mouth neardown to the ground, I whistled a note or two of Alan's air; an answercame, in the like guarded tone, and soon we had thralled together in thedark.

  "Is this you at last, Davie?" he whispered.

  "Just myself," said I.

  "God, man, but I've been wearying to see ye!" says he. "I've had thelongest kind of a time. A' day, I've had my dwelling into the inside ofa stack of hay, where I couldnae see the nebs of my ten fingers; andthen two hours of it waiting here for you, and you never coming! Dod,and ye're none too soon the way it is, with me to sail the morn! Themorn? what am I saying?--the day, I mean."

  "Ay, Alan, man, the day, sure enough," said I. "It's past twelve now,surely, and ye sail the day. This'll be a long road you have beforeyou."

  "We'll have a long crack of it first," said he.

  "Well, indeed, and I have a good deal it will be telling you to hear,"said I.

  And I told him what behooved, making rather a jumble of it, but clearenough when done. He heard me out with very few questions, laughing hereand there like a man delighted: and the sound of his laughing (above allthere, in the dark, where neither one of us could see the other) wasextraordinary friendly to my heart.

  "Ay, Davie, ye're a queer character," says he, when I had done: "a queerbitch after a', and I have no mind of meeting with the like of ye. Asfor your story, Prestongrange is a Whig like yoursel', so I'll say theless of him; and, dod! I believe he was the best friend ye had, if yecould only trust him. But Symon Fraser and James More are my ain kind ofcattle, and I'll give them the name that they deserve. The muckle blackde'il was father to the Frasers, a'body kens that; and as for theGregara, I never could abye the reek of them since I could stotter ontwo feet. I bloodied the nose of one, I mind, when I was still so wamblyon my legs that I cowped upon the top of him. A proud man was my fatherthat day, God rest him! and I think he had the cause. I'll never candeny but what Robin was something of a piper," he added; "but as forJames M
ore, the de'il guide him for me!"

  "One thing we have to consider," said I. "Was Charles Stewart right orwrong? Is it only me they're after, or the pair of us?"

  "And what's your ain opinion, you that's a man of so much experience?"said he.

  "It passes me," said I.

  "And me too," says Alan. "Do ye think this lass would keep her word toye?" he asked.

  "I do that," said I.

  "Well, there's nae telling," said he. "And anyway, that's over and done:he'll be joined to the rest of them lang syne."

  "How many would ye think there would be of them?" I asked.

  "That depends," said Alan. "If it was only you, they would likely sendtwo-three lively, brisk young birkies, and if they thought that I was toappear in the employ, I daresay ten or twelve," said he.

  It was no use, I gave a little crack of laughter.

  "And I think your own two eyes will have seen me drive that number, orthe double of it, nearer hand!" cries he.

  "It matters the less," said I, "because I am well rid of them for thistime."

  "Nae doubt that's your opinion," said he; "but I wouldnae be the leastsurprised if they were hunkering this wood. Ye see, David man, they'llbe Hieland folk. There'll be some Frasers, I'm thinking, and some of theGregara; and I would never deny but what the both of them, and theGregara in especial, were clever experienced persons. A man kens littletill he's driven a spreagh of neat cattle (say) ten miles through athrong lowland country and the black soldiers maybe at his tail. It'sthere that I learned a great part of my penetration. And ye need naetell me: it's better than war; which is the next best, however, thoughgenerally rather a bauchle of a business. Now the Gregara have had grandpractice."

  "No doubt that's a branch of education that was left out with me," saidI.

  "And I can see the marks of it upon ye constantly," said Alan. "Butthat's the strange thing about you folk of the college learning: ye'reignorant, and ye cannae see 't. Wae's me for my Greek and Hebrew; but,man, I ken that I dinnae ken them--there's the differ of it. Now, here'syou. Ye lie on your wame a bittie in the bield of this wood, and ye tellme that ye've cuist off these Frasers and Macgregors. Why! _Because Icouldnae see them_, says you. Ye blockhead, that's their livelihood."

  "Take the worst of it," said I, "and what are we to do?"

  "I am thinking of that same," said he. "We might twine. It wouldnae begreatly to my taste; and forbye that, I see reasons against it. First,it's now unco dark, and it's just humanly possible we might give themthe clean slip. If we keep together, we make but the ae line of it; ifwe gang separate, we make twae of them: the more likelihood to stave inupon some of these gentry of yours. And then, second, if they keep thetrack of us, it may come to a fecht for it yet, Davie; and then, I'llconfess I would be blythe to have you at my oxter, and I think you wouldbe none the worse of having me at yours. So, by my way of it, we shouldcreep out of this wood no further gone than just the inside of nextminute, and hold away east for Gillane, where I'm to find my ship. It'llbe like old days while it lasts, Davie; and (come the time) we'll haveto think what you should be doing. I'm wae to leave ye here, wantingme."

  "Have with ye, then!" says I. "Do ye gang back where you were stopping."

  "De'il a fear!" said Alan. "They were good folks to me, but I think theywould be a good deal disappointed if they saw my bonny face again. For(the way times go) I amnae just what ye could call a Walcome Guest.Which makes me the keener for your company, Mr. David Balfour of theShaws, and set ye up! For, leave aside twa cracks here in the wood withCharlie Stewart, I have scarce said black or white since the day weparted at Corstorphine."

  With which he rose from his place, and we began to move quietly eastwardthrough the wood.

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