Lochinvar: A Novel

by S. R. Crockett

  CHAPTER IX

  MY LORD OF BARRA

  "Help! Help! For God's sake, help!" again cried Kate. And thelamentable cry was at once a prayer to God and an appeal to man.

  Very pitiful her voice sounded, and she thought, "Oh, if Wat Gordonwere only here, I should not have been treated so!" Alas! it was themore unfortunate for both that Wat at that moment stood on guard at thecity entrance of the camp of Amersfort.

  But just as Haxo put his arm about her waist, a loud, clear voicehigher up the street cried with authority, "Hold, rascals, what wouldyou with the lady?"

  "That is no business of yours!" instantly replied one of the men whohad come up last.

  Kate looked up hopefully. She saw at the corner of the street a tall,soldierly man clad in black velvet and wearing an orange cloak,evidently an officer of the prince's household. He had his sword barein his hand, and seeing her manifest distress, he ran towards hereagerly, his shoulder-ribbons waving as he came.

  "THE GENTLEMAN INSTANTLY ATTACKED THEM FURIOUSLY"]

  The fellows about her shrank back and drew their short sailors'"whingers." But the gentleman instantly attacked them furiously withhis long sword, for Haxo and his companions had fled at the first soundof Barra's voice, while the two who had arrived later were engagingKate's deliverer. Their short swords, however, were no match for theofficer's cavalry blade. The weapon of one presently clattered upon thepavement while his comrade ran off down an alley, holding his sideas if he had been wounded.

  Then, putting his left arm firmly about her, and holding his sword barein the other, Kate's rescuer urged her to mount quickly up the street.

  "They may return," he said; "they may bring others with them, my lady,in which case I might not be able to protect you, or even to serve youotherwise than by dying for you, which very gladly I would do."

  Now Kate desired much to walk by herself, finding the arm about herwaist discomposing, and having also the market-basket to carry; butit seemed at the time a thing impossible to say to a man who had justsaved her life--or, at the least, had preserved her from the hands ofmany cruel ruffians.

  In this manner they reached in safety the wider spaces of the upperstreets, where Kate gladly saw the town's officers marching hither andthither with their halberds ported and their pistols in their belts.

  Then she disengaged herself deftly from her protector's circling arm.

  "I thank you, sir," she said, very gratefully, "for your so great andtimely kindness to me. I shall never forget it; nor yet will my father,whose name is Roger McGhie of Balmaghie, in the country of Scotland,ever forget your gentle courtesy to his daughter in the land of herexile."

  The stranger doffed his bonnet and bowed low.

  "I also am of your nation, fair mistress," said he. "In my own countryI am called Murdo, Lord of Barra and the Small Isles; but now it ismine honor alone that is great, for I also am an exile for truth'ssake, and must serve a foreign master, as you see."

  And he touched with a certain noble humility his orange cloak and theprince's badge and motto that were upon it.

  Kate bowed in turn, and her eyes expressed a warmer interest than shehad yet shown.

  "My Lord of Barra," she said, "I have heard of you and of yourdistinguished services and position. I am the more grateful to one sonoble for protecting a poor maid and an exile from insult."

  "It is my privilege and my very great good fortune," said he, againlifting his hat with more than ordinary deference. "Let us walktogether to your home; you lodge with your cousin of Earlstoun, do younot?"

  "Yes; but how may my Lord Barra know of that?" said Kate, in somebewilderment.

  Her companion smiled complacently.

  "Though I be but an exile, yet, by the prince's special favor, I am setin charge of the good behavior of this turbulent city, wherein it is myduty to know everything. This morning it chanced that I was on a tourof inspection in the worst and most dangerous parts, when it was my hapto be able to render you a very slight service."

  Barra called a porter and bade him carry Kate's basket and walkbehind them; but this that proud lass would not allow, whereupon theprovost-marshal dismissed the man with a movement of his hand. And soin earnest talk the pair approached the entering in of the street ofZaandpoort.

  It so happened that Wat Gordon, released from his duty in the camp, hadhastened homeward as fast as he could, hoping that he might be in timeto help Kate with the preparation of the vegetables, and in especialwith the salad; for it had become his utmost pleasure to do for her themost common and menial offices. As he arrived at the end of the streethe saw Kate coming towards him, apparently lost in friendly intercoursewith a tall officer of the prince's household. He stood transfixed.

  Presently she paused at the door and, looking across, she saw him.

  "Wat!" she cried, eagerly, "come hither!"

  For she wished to tell him of her adventure.

  But facing about and standing straight as an arrow, Walter Gordon(being an exceedingly foolish person) saluted the officer in the orangecloak and marched past as though he had not heard. Whereat Kate,mightily offended at his rudeness, asked my Lord of Barra to do herfriend Mistress Maisie Gordon and herself the honor of entering theirpoor rooms.

  "For it is not needful that those who are of the same country and causeshould stand on punctilios."

  So because of the pride of this stiff-necked Wat, my Lord of Barrafound footing in the street of Zaandpoort; for pride ofttimes breedsmore and worse things than many sins called deadlier.

  * * * * *

  Before Scarlett and Wat issued forth from the presence of the princeon the day appointed for the interview, Wat had received a commissionin his own regiment, while Scarlett was nominated instructor to thenewly formed companies of exiles, called first Buchan's and afterwardsEgerton's Foot.

  In addition to all this, Wat had not forgotten to represent to theprince the case of his cousin Will, and had reminded him of the greatservices he had rendered the cause in Scotland; to which William ofOrange had listened with seeming pleasure, but with regard to WillGordon's promotion in the corps of the Covenant he had made no promises.

  It was, nevertheless, with a proud and happy heart that Wat returnedto his cousin's lodgings in the street of Zaandpoort. He had seen theprince and found him well disposed. Even his enemy Barra had been ableto do nothing against him, and if their feet were already climbing thelower rungs of the ladder of fortune, he felt that in some measure itwas owing to his courage and address.

  All that day Wat's heart kept time to a new and unwonted tune. Thestreets had never seemed so smiling, the faces of the children never somirthful. The commonwealth of things was manifestly in excellent repairthat afternoon in the city of Amersfort. Lochinvar hummed a jauntymarching-stave as he strode towards the low door in Zaandpoort Street,while his heart beat fast to think that in a moment more he would belooking into those wondrous eyes whose kindness or cruelty had nowbecome to him as life or death.

  As he went a little softly up the stairs, he heard above a noise ofcheerful converse. An unknown man's voice spoke high and clear amongthe others. The lighter tones of women intermingled with it, pleasantlyresponsive. For a moment those within did not in the instancy oftheir discourse hear Wat's summons. At last Maisie opened the door,astonished that any one should knock at inner chamber-port, and as Watentered he saw, sitting in his own accustomed place, his hat on thetable, his sword unslung for ease, his enemy the Lord of Barra. Theprovost-marshal was talking easily and familiarly to Kate, who sat onthe low window-seat leaning a little forward, with interest writtenclearly on every line of her face. She was nursing her knee between herclasped palms with that quaint and subtle grace which had often goneto Wat's heart. Her dark eyes rested, not upon his incoming, of whichshe appeared to be for the moment unconscious, but upon the face of thespeaker.

  Wat and Barra submitted (it could not be called more) to Maisie'sintroduction--Wat with sullen blackness of countenance an
d theslightest inclination of his head, Barra with smiling patience, asthough by the very irony of circumstances it had chanced to him to beintroduced to his stable-boy.

  Kate rose and took Wat's hand a moment in kindly fashion, though witheyes a little downcast, being not yet ready quite to forget hisrudeness upon the street. But immediately she went back to her seat inorder to listen to the conclusion of the story which Barra had beenrelating. It concerned the loyalty of the Highland clans to theirchiefs, and as Barra told of their sacrifices, a genuine pleasurelightened in his dark face, his eyes glittered, and a new life breathedthrough his whole form. For pride in the loyalty of his clan was theselfish man's one enthusiasm.

  Maisie sat down with her sewing close to where Wat stood moping andbending his brows, and, noting his brow of constraint and gloom, sheset herself lovingly to cheer him.

  "We have had good news to-day," she said, smiling pleasantly athim--"news that William does not know yet. See!" she added, handinghim a parchment from the table with heightened color, for she had beenmarried but six months, and her William was the pivot on which theuniverse revolved.

  It was a commission as captain in the Covenant regiment in favor ofWilliam Gordon, called younger, of Earlstoun. Wat continued to look atit in amazement. It was what he had asked for from William of Orangethat day without obtaining an answer.

  "My Lord of Barra had it from the prince's own hand. He says that thestadtholder has long marked the address of my husband, and hath onlydelayed to reward it lest the short space he has been with the colorsshould arouse the jealousy of his comrades."

  A spark of fury burned up suddenly in Wat's eyes.

  "Is the paper genuine, think you?" he asked, loudly enough for all tohear.

  Maisie looked up quickly, astonished, not so much at his words as bythe fierce, abrupt manner of his speech.

  "Genuine!" she said, in astonishment. "Why, my Lord Barra brought ithimself. It is signed by his own hand and issued in the name of theprince. Why do you ask if it be genuine?"

  "I ask," cried Lochinvar, in the same fiercely offensive tone, "becausethe only document which I have ever seen bearing that signature andissued in the name of the prince was a forgery, and as such wasrepudiated two days later by my Lord of Barra."

  The words rang clearly and unmistakably through the room. DoubtlessBarra heard them, and Kate also, for a deep flush of annoyance mountedslowly to her neck, touched with rose the ivory of her cheek, and fadedout again, leaving her with more than her former paleness. But Barranever stopped a moment in the full, easy current of his narration.He continued to let fall his sentences with precisely the same cool,untroubled deliberation, fingering meanwhile the prince's signet-ring,which he habitually wore on his hand. Kate almost involuntarily moved alittle nearer to him and fixed her eyes the more earnestly on his face,because she felt that Wat's words were a deliberate insult intended forher deliverer of the preceding day.

  Wat on his part pushed his chair noisily back from the table, andrapped nervously and defiantly with his knuckles on the board.

  "There is not a man in my wild western isles," Barra's voice was heardgoing on, evenly and calmly, "who would not die for his chief, givinghis life as readily as a platter of drammoch--not a poor unlearnedcotter who would not send his family to the death to save the honor ofthe clan from the least stain, or the life of the chief from any shadowof danger. The true clansman can do anything for his chief--"

  "Except tell the truth," burst in Walter Gordon, fiercely.

  Barra paused a moment and looked calmly at the interrupter. Then,turning a little more squarely to Kate and his hostess, he continuedhis speech without betraying the least annoyance.

  "He will do anything for his chief which does not involve the loss ofhis honor and his standing in the clan."

  "Does this your noble Highland honor include treachery, spying, andbutchery?" cried Wat, now speaking directly to his enemy.

  "It includes good manners in a lady's presence, sir," said Barra,calmly.

  "Do these your clansmen of honor and courtesy wear butchers' knifes intheir belts, and go by the name of Haxo the Bull, the Calf, and theKiller?"

  Barra spread his hands abroad with a French gesture of helplessnesswhich was natural to him, and which expressed his inability tocomprehend the vagaries and fancies of a person clearly out of hismind. Then, without betraying the least annoyance, he turned suavely toKate, and began to tell her of the new ambassadors from Austria who,with a great retinue, had that day arrived at the court of the Princeof Orange.

  Wat rose with his hand on his sword. "Cousin Maisie," he said, "I amnot a man of politic tricks nor specious concealments. I give you fairwarning that I know this man. I tell him to his face that I denouncehim for a traitor, a conspirator, a murderer. I find Murdo of Barra aguest in this house, and I do what I can to protect those I love fromso deadly an acquaintance--the very shadow of whose name is death."

  "Protect! You forget, Cousin Walter," returned Maisie, indignantly,standing up very white and determined--"you forget that I have ahusband who is entirely able to protect me. And you forget also thatthis is his house, not yours. Moreover, if you cannot suffer to meetmy friends here as one guest meets another, it is entirely within yourright to go where you will only meet with those of whom you are pleasedto approve."

  Here Walter snatched suddenly at the bonnet which had been lying on thefloor: but the indignant little lady of the house in Zaandpoort Streethad not yet said all her say.

  "And, moreover," she said, "so long as I am mistress of a hovel,neither you nor any other shall intrude your brawls and quarrels uponthose whom I choose to invite to my house."

  "You choose between us, then?" cried Wat, holding his head high, hisface as colorless as a sheet of paper.

  "If you desire to put it so--yes. I choose between a man of courtesyand a silly, hectoring boy. I choose, cousin mine, not to give you theright to select my guests for me."

  Wat turned to Kate. The blood had now ebbed from his lips, and leftthem gray. His eyes seemed in a short tale of moments to have sunk deepinto his face.

  "And you?" he said, more calmly than before, looking at the maid of hislove.

  The girl trembled like a leaf on an autumn gossamer; nevertheless, sheanswered firmly enough: "I am but a guest in this house, but so long asI abide here the friends of my hostess are my friends!"

  Wat Gordon bowed low with stateliest courtesy, first to his cousinMaisie, then to Kate McGhie, and lastly to his rival.

  "I shall have the honor of sending you a communication in the morning,"he said, looking the councillor of the prince between the eyes.

  Barra sat still on his chair, looking Wat over with the same calmlyamused contempt he had shown throughout. "Ah," he replied, nodding hishead, "perhaps it might be as well to let the--the application come inthe usual way--through my chamberlain."

  And he was still smiling as Wat Gordon strode down the stairs withanger burning coldly white on his face, and all hell raging in hisheart.

  Barra turned to Kate to continue his story, but her place was vacant.The girl had inexplicably vanished from the room before Wat's foot hadeven passed the threshold. She lay now on the little white bed in herown room, her whole frame shaken with sobs, and the hot, bitter tearsraining down on the pillow.

  Then, for the first time, she knew in her own heart that she was faceto face with great unreasoning love, which could neither be banishednor disowned.

  "Oh, why," she sobbed, "was he so foolish and wicked? Why did Maisiegrow of a sudden so hard and cruel to him? Why must things turn outthus deadly wrong, when they might just as easily have gone right?"

  She buried her face in the pillow, and whispered her conclusion to thefine linen of its coverture upon which her tears were falling.

  "Yet I love him--yes, I love him more than ever for it!" she said, andsank her head deeper, as if to hide her love from her own most secretsight.