The Span o' Life: A Tale of Louisbourg & Quebec
THE SPAN O' LIFE
CHAPTER I
"AFTER HIGH FLOODS COME LOW EBBS"
Every one knows of my connection with the ill-starred Rebellion ofPrince Charles, and for this it was that I found myself, a fewmonths after the disaster of Culloden, lying close in an obscurelodging in Greek Street, Soho, London.
Surely a rash proceeding, you may say, this adventuring into thelion's den! But such has not been my experience: in an escalado,he who hugs closest the enemy's wall has often a better chance thanhe who lies at a distance. And so I, Hugh Maxwell of Kirkconnel,Chevalier of the Order of St. Louis, Captain en seconde in Berwick'sFoot in the service of His Most Christian Majesty, and lateAide-de-Camp to General Lord George Murray in the misdirected affairof His Royal Highness Charles, Prince of Wales and Regent for hisillustrious father, "Jacobus Tertius, Rex Angliae, Hiberniae, etFranciae, Dei Gratia"--Heaven save the mark!--found it safer andmore to my taste to walk abroad in London under the nose of theusurping but victorious Hanoverian than to continue skulking underthe broader heavens of the Highlands.
I will not deny there were moments when I would rather have beenenjoying the clearer atmosphere of France (for it is easier to puta brave face on such dangers once they are safely overcome thanbear them with an unruffled fortitude at the time); but there Iwas, with just enough money to discharge my most pressing necessities,with the precious Cause for which I had sacrificed my hopes ofadvancement in my own regiment blown to the four corners of theHighlands--more remote and unknown up to this time than the fourcorners of the earth, though to all appearance about to undergosuch a scouring when I left them that they would be uninhabitablefor any one who was not born with the Broad Arrow printed on hisback.
I was lodging in the attic of a disreputable pot-house, kept byone of those scurvy Scots who traded on his reputed disloyalty asa lure to entice unfortunate gentlemen in similar plight to myselfunder his roof, and then job them off to the government at so mucha head; but this I only knew of a certainty later.
It was not long, however, before I was relieved from my penury atleast, for my cousin, Lady Jane Drummond, who since my childhoodhad stood towards me in the relation of a mother, hearing from meof my position, raised me above all anxiety in that respect.
I cannot help reflecting here on the inopportuneness with whichProvidence is sometimes pleased to bestow its gifts; the starvingwretch, houseless in the streets, has an appetite and a digestionwhich, in this regard, make him the envy of the epicure, doweredwith a wealth useless in its most cherished application. And thoughingratitude has never been one of my faults, was it possible notto feel some resentment at the comparative uselessness of a blessingwhich fell at a time when I was debarred from any greater satisfactionthan paying my mean obligations or helping some more needyunfortunate, while forced to look on those pleasures incidental toa gentleman's existence with the unsatisfied eye of forbiddenindulgence?
The banker, Mr. Drummond of Charing Cross, who was an old familyfriend, and through whom I had received my remittance, could orwould give me no definite information of the movements of my cousin,Lady Jane, or of her probable arrival at London, so I had nothingto do but await further news and occupy my time as best I might.
On my arrival I had laid aside all the outward marks of a gentleman,dressing myself in imitation of--say a scrivener's clerk--and, savefor that bearing which is incorporate with one of my condition andbecomes a second nature, not to be disguised by any outward cloak,I might fairly well pass for my exemplar.
It was along in the month of July, when having become habituatedto my situation I was accustomed to move about with greater freedom,that being in Fleet Street, I made one of the crowd to gaze at thehorrid spectacle of the heads of the unfortunate Messieurs Towneleyand Fletcher displayed on Temple Bar, whose cruel fate I had onlyescaped by my firm resolution in withstanding the unreasonabledemands of the Duke of Perth to remain behind in their company inCarlisle.
"Your Grace, though I am willing to shed the last drop of my bloodfor Prince Charles," I had answered, with great firmness, "I willnever allow myself to be marked out as a victim for certaindestruction," and I held to my place in the retreat.
At such times the least error in judgment is certain to be attendedby a train of inevitable disaster, and apart from my own personalescape, for which I am duly thankful, it was a satisfaction to methat his Grace later on most handsomely acknowledged himself tohave been in the wrong.
But to return: I was plunged in these sombre reflections when Iheard a cry near me, a cry that has never appealed to my supportin vain--that of a lady in distress. I turned at once, and there,in full view of my sympathising eyes, was as fair an object as Iever looked upon. An unfortunate lady, overcome by the sights andsounds about her, had fallen back on the shoulder of her maid, whosupported her bravely; her black silken hood had been displaced,and her rich amber-coloured hair in some disorder framed her lovelyface. Another moment and I was beside them, shifting the unconsciouslady to my left arm, to the great relief of the maid, who at oncerecognised my quality in spite of my disguise.
"Spy 'em close, my beauty! Spy 'em close! Only a penny!" shouteda ruffian, holding a perspective-glass before the unhappy lady. "Arebel wench, lads, and must see her lover close!" But I cut hisribaldry short with a blow in the face, and with my foot pushedoff a wretched hag busily engaged in trying to find the pocket ofmy poor charge, and made immediate move to withdraw her from thecrowd.
"A rebel wench, lads, and must see her lover close!"]
But my efforts were met with a storm of curses and howls from thescum about us, and matters were fast growing serious, when a mostgenteelly dressed man pushed in beside us, and, with sword in hand,soon cleared a way, which I threaded with a determined countenance.A moment or two concluded the affair, and we were safe.
The lady recovered with surprising spirit, and turning to thenew-comer, cried: "Oh, Gaston! It was horrible beyond words!" andshe clasped his arm with both her shapely hands.
We hurried on without further speech, looking for a hackney-coach;and when this was found and hailed, the lady turned, and holdingout her hand to me, said: "Sir, forgive the discomposure whichprevented my sooner acknowledgment of your services. What wouldhave become of me without your aid? I cannot say half what I feel;"and the lovely creature's eyes filled as she spake.
"My dear young lady," I said, bending over and kissing her hand,"you could say nothing that would heighten the happiness I havehad in being of service to you;" and in order not to add to hergenerous embarrassment I handed her into the coach, whereupon ourcommon rescuer giving a direction to the man, which I did notoverhear, she and her maid drove off. Then, not to be behind sofair an original, I turned and complimented the stranger upon histimely succour.
"Sir," said he, in French, "I perceive, from some sufficient reason,which I can readily divine, it is convenient for you to appear indisguise."
"Truly, monsieur," I returned, "I did not hope that a disguisewould protect me from a discerning eye such as yours, but it sufficesfor the crowd. I am certain, though, that I confide in a gentlemanwhen I say I am Hugh Maxwell of Kirkconnel, late captain in Berwick'sFoot, and am entitled to qualify myself as Chevalier."
"And I, Chevalier," he replied, with equal frankness, "am theVicomte Gaston de Trincardel, at present on a diplomatic missiontowards the Court."
Being equally satisfied with each other's condition, we repairedto his lodgings in St. James's Street, where we fell into familiarconversation, in the course of which the Vicomte said,
"I suppose I am correct in my belief that you have been engaged inthe affair of Charles Edward?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Is there any reliable intelligence of his whereabouts?"
"To be absolutely frank with you, my dear Vicomte, it is a matterof the most perfect indifference to me where he is, or what becomesof him."
"Heavens!" he exclaimed. "I cannot understand such a feeling."
"Had you seen as much of
him as I did, even when he was trying toappear at his best as Fitzjames; had you been a daily spectator ofthe inconceivable folly with which every chance was mismanaged,every opportunity let slip; of the childish prejudice with whichevery true friend was estranged, and of the silly vanity whichdaily demanded new incense during the whole of this miserableaffair--you might understand without difficulty," I returned, withsome little heat.
"But, Chevalier," he inquired, soothingly, "may I ask why youfollowed his fortunes?"
"From that, Vicomte, which I doubt not has ever guided your owncourse in life, from the one motive that has alone influencedme--principle. My people followed the fortunes of his grandfatherafter the Boyne, and on both sides of my house, Maxwells andGeraldines, our name has been synonymous with loyalty to the Stuartcause abroad as well as at home."
"I know your name and its equivalent, Chevalier. May I ask towhich branch you belong?"
"I scarce know how to qualify my standing," I answered, laughing;"we have been proscribed rebels so long that I have lost touch withthose things men most value in regard to family. Just as I am aChevalier without so much as a steed whereon to mount my knightship,so am I a Maxwell of Kirkconnel without title to a rood of groundor a kinsman within measurable distance; and my father before meheld naught he could call his own save his honour, my lady mother,and my unworthy self. No! if there be a Spanish branch, I swearI'll lay claim to that, for 'tis Spain assuredly that must hold myflocks and herds, not to name my chateaux."
"Chevalier," he began, earnestly, "I shall esteem it a favour--"
"Not for the world, my dear Vicomte! Money is the one anxiety whichseldom causes me a second thought. My habit of life is simple,and my only ambition my profession. But to go back to the happychance of our meeting, may I inquire, without indiscretion, thename of the young lady whom you rescued?"
"Oh, come, come! Honour where honour is due. I am no more responsiblefor the rescue than yourself. The young lady is a Miss Grey, livingwith her aunt in temporary lodgings in Essex Street, off the Strand."
"I have a suspicion, sir, that the name may be as temporary as herlodging, and that I am fortunate in applying to one who can giveme reliable information."
To this, however, the Vicomte only bowed somewhat stiffly, andbeing unwilling that any contretemps should arise to mar so promisingan acquaintance--though the Lord only knows what umbrage any onecould take from my remark--I made my adieux, the Vicomte mostobligingly offering me his services should I wish to pass over toFrance. But of these I could not as yet avail myself, as it wasnecessary I should know of Lady Jane's intentions more definitely;so, with my acknowledgments, the interview ended.