CHAPTER XVIII
I TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE
Alan was the first to come round. He rose, went to the border of thewood, peered out a little, and then returned and sat down.
"Well," said he, "yon was a hot burst, David."
I said nothing, nor so much as lifted my face. I had seen murder done,and a great, ruddy, jovial gentleman struck out of life in a moment; thepity of that sight was still sore within me, and yet that was but a partof my concern. Here was murder done upon the man Alan hated; here wasAlan skulking in the trees and running from the troops; and whether hiswas the hand that fired or only the head that ordered, signified butlittle. By my way of it, my only friend in that wild country wasblood-guilty in the first degree; I held him in horror; I could not lookupon his face; I would have rather lain alone in the rain on my coldisle, than in that warm wood beside a murderer.
"Are ye still wearied?" he asked again.
"No," said I, still with my face in the bracken; "no, I am not weariednow, and I can speak. You and me must twine,"[19] I said. "I liked youvery well, Alan, but your ways are not mine, and they're not God's: andthe short and the long of it is just that we must twine."
"I will hardly twine from ye, David, without some kind of reason for thesame," said Alan, mighty gravely. "If ye ken anything against myreputation, it's the least thing that ye should do, for oldacquaintance' sake, to let me hear the name of it: and if ye have onlytaken a distaste to my society, it will be proper for me to judge ifI'm insulted."
"Alan," said I, "what is the sense of this? Ye ken very well yonCampbell man lies in his blood upon the road."
He was silent for a little; then says he, "Did ever ye hear tell of thestory of the Man and the Good People?"--by which he meant the fairies.
"No," said I, "nor do I want to hear it."
"With your permission, Mr. Balfour, I will tell it you, whatever," saysAlan. "The man, ye should ken, was cast upon a rock in the sea, where itappears the Good People were in use to come and rest as they wentthrough to Ireland. The name of this rock is called the Skerryvore, andit's not far from where we suffered shipwreck. Well, it seems the mancried so sore, if he could just see his little bairn before he died!that at last the king of the Good People took peety upon him, and sentone flying that brought back the bairn in a poke[20] and laid it downbeside the man where he lay sleeping. So when the man woke, there was apoke beside him, and something into the inside of it that moved. Well,it seemed he was one of these gentry that think aye the worst of things;and for greater security he stuck his dirk throughout that poke beforehe opened it, and there was his bairn dead. I am thinking to myself, Mr.Balfour, that you and the man are very much alike."
"Do you mean you had no hand in it?" cried I, sitting up.
"I will tell you first of all, Mr. Balfour of Shaws, as one friend toanother," said Alan, "that if I were going to kill a gentleman, it wouldnot be in my own country, to bring trouble on my clan; and I would notgo wanting sword and gun, and with a long fishing-rod upon my back."
"Well," said I, "that's true!"
"And now," continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying his hand uponit in a certain manner, "I swear upon the Holy Iron I had neither artnor part, act nor thought in it."
"I thank God for that!" cried I, and offered him my hand.
He did not appear to see it.
"And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell!" said he. "They arenot so scarce, that I ken!"
"At least," said I, "you cannot justly blame me, for you know very wellwhat you told me in the brig. But the temptation and the act aredifferent, I thank God again for that. We may all be tempted; but totake a life in cold blood, Alan!" And I could say no more for themoment. "And do you know who did it?" I added. "Do you know that man inthe black coat?"
"I have nae clear mind about his coat," said Alan cunningly; "but itsticks in my head that it was blue."
"Blue or black, did ye know him?" said I.
"I couldna just conscientiously swear to him," says Alan. "He gaed veryclose by me, to be sure, but it's a strange thing that I should justhave been tying my brogues."
"Can you swear that you don't know him, Alan?" I cried, half angered,half in a mind to laugh at his evasions.
"No' yet," says he; "but I've a grand memory for forgetting, David."
"And yet there was one thing I saw clearly," said I, "and that was, thatyou exposed yourself and me to draw the soldiers."
"It's very likely," said Alan; "and so would any gentleman. You and mewere innocent of that transaction."
"The better reason, since we were falsely suspected, that we should getclear," I cried. "The innocent should surely come before the guilty."
"Why, David," said he, "the innocent have aye a chance to get assoiledin court; but for the lad that shot the bullet, I think the best placefor him will be the heather. Them that havena dipped their hands in anylittle difficulty should be very mindful of the case of them that have.And that is the good Christianity. For if it was the other way roundabout, and the lad whom I couldna just clearly see had been in ourshoes, and we in his (as might very well have been), I think we would bea good deal obliged to him oursel's if he would draw the soldiers."
When it came to this, I gave Alan up. But he looked so innocent all thetime, and was in such clear good faith in what he said, and so ready tosacrifice himself for what he deemed his duty, that my mouth was closed.Mr. Henderland's words came back to me: that we ourselves might take alesson by these wild Highlanders. Well, here I had taken mine. Alan'smorals were all tail-first; but he was ready to give his life for them,such as they were.
"Alan," said I, "I'll not say it's the good Christianity as I understandit, but it's good enough. And here I offer ye my hand for the secondtime."
Whereupon he gave me both of his, saying surely I had cast a spell uponhim, for he could forgive me anything. Then he grew very grave, and saidwe had not much time to throw away, but must both flee that country; he,because he was a deserter, and the whole of Appin would now be searchedlike a chamber, and every one obliged to give a good account of himself;and I, because I was certainly involved in the murder.
"O!" says I, willing to give him a little lesson, "I have no fear of thejustice of my country."
"As if this was your country!" said he. "Or as if ye would be triedhere, in a country of Stewarts!"
"It's all Scotland," said I.
"Man, I whiles wonder at ye," said Alan. "This is a Campbell that's beenkilled. Well, it'll be tried in Inverara, the Campbells' head place;with fifteen Campbells in the jury-box, and the biggest Campbell of all(and that's the Duke) sitting cocking on the bench. Justice, David? Thesame justice, by all the world, as Glenure found a while ago at theroad-side."
This frighted me a little, I confess, and would have frighted me moreif I had known how nearly exact were Alan's predictions; indeed, it wasbut in one point that he exaggerated, there being but eleven Campbellson the jury; though as the other four were equally in the Duke'sdependence, it mattered less than might appear. Still, I cried out thathe was unjust to the Duke of Argyle, who (for all he was a Whig) was yeta wise and honest nobleman.
"Hoot!" said Alan, "the man's a Whig, nae doubt; but I would never denyhe was a good chieftain to his clan. And what would the clan think ifthere was a Campbell shot, and naebody hanged, and their own chief theJustice-General? But I have often observed," says Alan, "that youLow-country bodies have no clear idea of what's right and wrong."
At this I did at last laugh out aloud; when to my surprise, Alan joinedin, and laughed as merrily as myself.
"Na, na," said he, "we're in the Hielands, David; and when I tell ye torun, take my word and run. Nae doubt it's a hard thing to skulk andstarve in the heather, but it's harder yet to lie shackled in a red-coatprison."
I asked him whither we should flee; and as he told me "to the Lowlands,"I was a little better inclined to go with him; for, indeed, I wasgrowing impatient to get back and have the upper hand of
my uncle.Besides, Alan made so sure there would be no question of justice in thematter, that I began to be afraid he might be right. Of all deaths, Iwould truly like least to die by the gallows; and the picture of thatuncanny instrument came into my head with extraordinary clearness (as Ihad once seen it engraved at the top of a pedlar's ballad) and took awaymy appetite for courts of justice.
"I'll chance it, Alan," said I. "I'll go with you."
"But mind you," said Alan, "it's no small thing. Ye maun lie bare andhard, and brook many an empty belly. Your bed shall be the muircock's,and your life shall be like the hunted deer's, and ye shall sleep withyour hand upon your weapons. Ay, man, ye shall taigle many a weary foot,or we get clear! I tell ye this at the start, for it's a life that Iken well. But if ye ask what other chance ye have, I answer: Nane.Either take to the heather with me, or else hang."
"And that's a choice very easily made," said I; and we shook hands uponit.
"And now let's take another keek at the red-coats," says Alan, and heled me to the north-eastern fringe of the wood.
Looking out between the trees we could see a great side of mountain,running down exceeding steep into the waters of the loch. It was a roughpart, all hanging stone, and heather, and bit scrogs of birchwood; andaway at the far end towards Balachulish, little wee red soldiers weredipping up and down over hill and howe, and growing smaller everyminute. There was no cheering now, for I think they had other uses forwhat breath was left them; but they still stuck to the trail, anddoubtless thought that we were close in front of them.
Alan watched them, smiling to himself.
"Ay," said he, "they'll be gey weary before they've got to the end ofthat employ! And so you and me, David, can sit down and eat a bite, andbreathe a bit longer, and take a dram from my bottle. Then we'll strikefor Aucharn, the house of my kinsman, James of the Glens, where I mustget my clothes, and my arms, and money to carry us along; and then,David, we'll cry, 'Forth, Fortune!' and take a cast among the heather."
So we sat again and ate and drank, in a place whence we could see thesun going down into a field of great, wild, and houseless mountains,such as I was now condemned to wander in with my companion. Partly as weso sat, and partly afterwards, on the way to Aucharn, each of usnarrated his adventures; and I shall here set down so much of Alan's asseems either curious or needful.
It appears he ran to the bulwarks as soon as the wave was passed; saw meand lost me, and saw me again, as I tumbled in the roost; and at lasthad one glimpse of me clinging on the yard. It was this that put him insome hope I would maybe get to land after all, and made him leave thoseclues and messages which had brought me (for my sins) to that unluckycountry of Appin.
In the meantime, those still on the brig had got the skiff launched, andone or two were on board of her already, when there came a second wavegreater than the first, and heaved the brig out of her place, and wouldcertainly have sent her to the bottom, had she not struck and caught onsome projection of the reef. When she had struck first, it had beenbows-on, so that the stern had hitherto been lowest. But now her sternwas thrown in the air, and the bows plunged under the sea; and withthat, the water began to pour into the fore-scuttle like the pouring ofa mill-dam.
It took the colour out of Alan's face even to tell what followed. Forthere were still two men lying impotent in their bunks; and these,seeing the water pour in, and thinking the ship had foundered, began tocry out aloud, and that with such harrowing cries that all who were ondeck tumbled one after another into the skiff and fell to their oars.They were not two hundred yards away, when there came a third great sea;and at that the brig lifted clean over the reef; her canvas filled for amoment, and she seemed to sail in chase of them, but settling all thewhile; and presently she drew down and down, as if a hand was drawingher; and the sea closed over the _Covenant_ of Dysart.
Never a word they spoke as they pulled ashore, being stunned with thehorror of that screaming; but they had scarce set foot upon the beachwhen Hoseason woke up, as if out of a muse, and bade them lay hands uponAlan. They hung back indeed, having little taste for the employment; butHoseason was like a fiend, crying that Alan was alone, that he had agreat sum about him, that he had been the means of losing the brig anddrowning all their comrades, and that here was both revenge and wealthupon a single cast. It was seven against one; in that part of the shorethere was no rock that Alan could set his back to; and the sailorsbegan to spread out and come behind him.
"And then," said Alan, "the little man with the red head--I havena mindof the name that he is called."
"Riach," said I.
"Ay," said Alan, "Riach! Well, it was him that took up the clubs for me,asked the men if they werena feared of a judgment, and, says he, 'Dod,I'll put my back to the Hielandman's mysel'.' That's none such anentirely bad little man, yon little man with the red head," said Alan."He has some spunks of decency."
"Well," said I, "he was kind to me in his way."
"And so he was to Alan," said he; "and by my troth, I found his way avery good one! But ye see, David, the loss of the ship and the cries ofthese poor lads sat very ill upon the man; and I'm thinking that wouldbe the cause of it."
"Well, I would think so," says I; "for he was as keen as any of the restat the beginning. But how did Hoseason take it?"
"It sticks in my mind that he would take it very ill," says Alan. "Butthe little man cried to me to run, and indeed I thought it was a goodobserve, and ran. The last that I saw they were all in a knot upon thebeach, like folk that were not agreeing very well together."
"What do you mean by that?" said I.
"Well, the fists were going," said Alan; "and I saw one man go down likea pair of breeks. But I thought it would be better no' to wait. Ye seethere's a strip of Campbells in that end of Mull, which is no goodcompany for a gentleman like me. If it hadna been for that I would havewaited and looked for ye mysel', let alone giving a hand to the littleman." (It was droll how Alan dwelt on Mr. Riach's stature for, to saythe truth, the one was not much smaller than the other.) "So," says he,continuing, "I set my best foot forward, and whenever I met in withanyone I cried out there was a wreck ashore. Man, they didna stop tofash with me! Ye should have seen them linking for the beach! And whenthey got there they found they had had the pleasure of a run, which isaye good for a Campbell. I'm thinking it was a judgment on the clan thatthe brig went down in the lump and didna break. But it was a veryunlucky thing for you, that same; for if any wreck had come ashore theywould have hunted high and low, and would soon have found ye."
FOOTNOTES:
[19] Part.
[20] Bag.
The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 10 Page 29