by G. A. Henty
Chapter XIII
The Castle of Dunstaffnage
Bruce's party were now more than ever straitened for provisions,since they had to depend almost entirely upon such fish as theymight catch, as it was dangerous to stray far away in pursuit ofdeer. Archie, however, with his bow and arrows ventured severaltimes to go hunting in order to relieve the sad condition of theladies, and succeeded two or three times in bringing a deer homewith him.
He had one day ventured much further away than usual. He had notsucceeded in finding a stag, and the ladies had for more than aweek subsisted entirely on fish. He therefore determined to continuethe search, however long, until he found one. He had crossed severalwooded hills, and was, he knew, leagues away from the point wherehe had left his party, when, suddenly emerging from a wood, he cameupon a road just at the moment when a party some twenty strong ofwild clansmen were traversing it. On a palfrey in their centre wasa young lady whom they were apparently escorting. They were buttwenty yards away when he emerged from the wood, and on seeing himthey drew their claymores and rushed upon him. Perceiving thatflight from these swift footed mountaineers would be impossible,Archie threw down his bow and arrows, and, drawing his sword, placedhis back against a tree, and prepared to defend himself until thelast.
Parrying the blows of the first two who arrived he stretched themdead upon the ground, and was then at once attacked by the whole ofthe party together. Two more of his assailants fell by his sword;but he must have been soon overpowered and slain, when the younglady, whose cries to her followers to cease had been unheeded inthe din of the conflict, spurred her palfrey forward and broke intothe ring gathered round Archie.
The clansmen drew back a pace, and Archie lowered his sword.
"Desist," she cried to the former in a tone of command, "or my uncleAlexander will make you rue the day when you disobeyed my orders.I will answer for this young knight. And now, sir," she said,turning to Archie, "do you surrender your sword to me, and yieldyourself up a prisoner. Further resistance would be madness; youhave done too much harm already. I promise you your life if youwill make no further resistance."
"Then, lady," Archie replied, handing his sword to her, "I willinglyyield myself your prisoner, and thank you for saving my life fromthe hands of your savage followers."
The young lady touched the hilt of his sword, and motioned him toreplace it in its scabbard.
"You must accompany me," she said, "to the abode of my uncle AlexanderMacDougall. I would," she continued, as, with Archie walking besideher palfrey, while the Highlanders, with sullen looks, kept closebehind, muttering angrily to themselves at having been cheated bythe young lady of their vengeance upon the man who had slain fourof their number, "that I could set you at liberty, but my authorityover my uncle's clansmen does not extend so far; and did I bid themlet you go free they would assuredly disobey me. You are, as Ican see by your attire, one of the Bruce's followers, for no otherknight could be found wandering alone through these woods."
"Yes, lady," Archie said, "I am Sir Archibald Forbes, one of thefew followers of the King of Scotland."
The lady gave a sudden start when Archie mentioned his name, andfor some little time did not speak again.
"I would," she said at last in a low voice, "that you had beenany other, seeing that Alexander MacDougall has a double cause ofenmity against you--firstly, as being a follower of Bruce, whoslew his kinsman Comyn, and who has done but lately great harm tohimself and his clansmen; secondly, as having dispossessed AllanKerr, who is also his relative, of his lands and castle. My uncleis a man of violent passions, and"--she hesitated.
"And he may not, you think," Archie went on, "respect your promisefor my life. If that be so, lady--and from what I have heard ofAlexander MacDougall it is like enough--I beg you to give me backmy surrender, for I would rather die here, sword in hand, than beput to death in cold blood in the castle of Dunstaffnage."
"No," the lady said, "that cannot be. Think you I could see youbutchered before mine eyes after having once surrendered yourselfto me? No, sir. I beseech you act not so rashly--that were certaindeath; and I trust that my uncle, hostile as he may be against you,will not inflict such dishonour upon me as to break the pledge Ihave given for your safety."
Archie thought from what he had heard of the MacDougall that hischance was a very slight one. Still, as the young ever cling to hope,and as he would assuredly be slain by the clansmen, he thought itbetter to take the chance, small as it was, and so continued hismarch by the side of his captor's palfrey.
After two hours' journey they neared the castle of Alexanderof Lorne. Archie could not repress a thrill of apprehension as helooked at the grim fortress and thought of the character of itslord; but his bearing showed no fear, as, conversing with the younglady, he approached the entrance. The gate was thrown open, andAlexander of Lorne himself issued out with a number of retainers.
"Ah! Marjory!" he said, "I am glad to see your bonny face atDunstaffnage. It is three months since you left us, and the timehas gone slowly; the very dogs have been pining for your voice.But who have we here?" he exclaimed, as his eye fell upon Archie.
"It is a wandering knight, uncle," Marjory said lightly, "whomI captured in the forest on my way hither. He fought valiantlyagainst Murdoch and your followers, but at last he surrendered tome on my giving him my pledge that his life should be safe, andthat he should be treated honourably. Such a pledge I am sure,uncle," she spoke earnestly now, "you will respect."
Alexander MacDougall's brow was as black as night, and he spoke inGaelic with his followers.
"What!" he said angrily to the girl; "he has killed four of mymen, and is doubtless one of Bruce's party who slipped through myfingers the other day and killed so many of my kinsmen and vassals.You have taken too much upon yourself, Marjory. It is not by youthat he has been made captive, but by my men, and you had no powerto give such promise as you have made. Who is this young springall?"
"I am Sir Archibald Forbes," Archie said proudly--"a name whichmay have reached you even here."
"Archibald Forbes!" exclaimed MacDougall furiously. "What! theenemy and despoiler of the Kerrs! Had you a hundred lives youshould die. Didst know this, Marjory?" he said furiously to thegirl. "Didst know who this young adventurer was when you asked hislife of me?"
"I did, uncle," the girl said fearlessly. "I did not know his namewhen he surrendered to me, and afterwards, when he told me, whatcould I do? I had given my promise, and I renewed it; and I trust,dear uncle, that you will respect and not bring dishonour upon it."
"Dishonour!" MacDougall said savagely; "the girl has lost her senses.I tell you he should die if every woman in Scotland had given herpromise for his life. Away with him!" he said to his retainers;"take him to the chamber at the top of the tower; I will give himtill tomorrow to prepare for death, for by all the saints I swearhe shall hang at daybreak. As to you, girl, go to your chamber,and let me not see your face again till this matter is concluded.Methinks a madness must have fallen upon you that you should thusventure to lift your voice for a Forbes."
The girl burst into tears as Archie was led away. His guards tookhim to the upper chamber in a turret, a little room of some sevenfeet in diameter, and there, having deprived him of his arms, theyleft him, barring and bolting the massive oaken door behind them.
Archie had no hope whatever that Alexander MacDougall would changehis mind, and felt certain that the following dawn would be hislast. Of escape there was no possibility; the door was solid andmassive, the window a mere narrow loophole for archers, two orthree inches wide; and even had he time to enlarge the opening hewould be no nearer freedom, for the moat lay full eighty feet below.
"I would I had died sword in hand!" he said bitterly; "then itwould have been over in a moment."
Then he thought of the girl to whom he had surrendered his sword.
"It was a sweet face and a bright one," he said; "a fairer andbrighter I never saw. It is strange that I should meet her nowonly when I
am about to die." Then he thought of the agony whichhis mother would feel at the news of his death and at the extinctionof their race. Sadly he paced up and down his narrow cell tillnight fell. None took the trouble to bring him food--considering,doubtless, that he might well fast till morning. When it becamedark he lay down on the hard stone, and, with his arm under his headwas soon asleep--his last determination being that if possiblehe would snatch a sword or dagger from the hand of those who cameto take him to execution, and so die fighting; or if that wereimpossible, he would try to burst from them and to end his life bya leap from the turret.
He was awakened by a slight noise at the door, and sprang to hisfeet instantly, believing that day was at hand and his hour hadcome. To his surprise a voice, speaking scarcely above a whisper,said:
"Hush! my son, make no noise; I am here as a friend." Then thedoor closed, and Archie's visitor produced a lighted lantern fromthe folds of his garments, and Archie saw that a priest stood beforehim.
"I thank you, father," he said gratefully; "you have doubtless cometo shrive me, and I would gladly listen to your ministrations. Iwould fain intrust you, too, with a message to my mother if youwill take it for me; and I would fain also that you told the LadyMarjory that she must not grieve for my death, or feel that she isin any way dishonoured by it, seeing that she strove to her utmostto keep her promise, and is in no way to blame that her uncle hasoverriden her."
"You can even give her your message yourself, sir knight," thepriest said, "seeing that the wilful girl has herself accompaniedme hither."
Thus saying, he stepped aside, and Archie perceived, standingbehind the priest, a figure who, being in deep shadow, he had nothitherto seen. She came timidly forward, and Archie, bending onone knee, took the hand she held out and kissed it.
"Lady," he said, "you have heard my message; blame not yourself,I beseech you, for my death. Remember that after all you havelengthened my life and not shortened it, seeing that but for yourinterference I must have been slain as I stood, by your followers.It was kind and good of you thus to come to bid me farewell."
"But I have not come to bid you farewell. Tell him, good FatherAnselm, our purpose here."
"'Tis a mad brain business," the priest said, shrugging his shoulders;"and, priest though I am, I shall not care to meet MacDougall inthe morning. However, since this wilful girl wills it, what can Ido? I have been her instructor since she was a child; and insteadof being a docile and obedient pupil, she has been a tyrannicalmaster to me; and I have been so accustomed to do her will in allthings that I cannot say her nay now. I held out as long as I could;but what can a poor priest do against sobs and tears? So at lastI have given in and consented to risk the MacDougall's anger, tobring smiles into her face again. I have tried in vain to persuadeher that since it is the chief's doing, your death will bring nodishonour upon her. I have offered to absolve her from the promise,and if she has not faith in my power to do so, to write to thepope himself and ask for his absolution for any breach that theremay be; but I might as well have spoken to the wind. When a younglady makes up her mind, stone walls are less difficult to move; soyou see here we are. Wound round my waist are a hundred feet ofstout rope, with knots tied three feet apart. We have only now toascend the stairs to the platform above and fix the rope, and inan hour you will be far away among the woods."
Archie's heart bounded with joy with the hope of life and freedom;but he said quietly, "I thank you, dear lady, with all my heart foryour goodness; but I could not accept life at the cost of bringingyour uncle's anger upon you."
"You need not fear for that," the girl replied. "My uncle ispassionate and headstrong--unforgiving to his foes or those hedeems so, but affectionate to those he loves. I have always been hispet; and though, doubtless, his anger will be hot just at first,it will pass away after a time. Let no scruple trouble you on thatscore; and I would rather put up with a hundred beatings than livewith the knowledge that one of Scotland's bravest knights came tohis end by a breach of my promise. Though my uncle and all my peopleside with the English, yet do not I; and I think the good fatherhere, though from prudence he says but little, is a true Scotsmanalso. I have heard of your name from childhood as the companionand friend of Wallace, and as one of the champions of our country;and though by blood I ought to hate you, my feelings have been verydifferent. But now stand talking no longer; the castle is soundasleep, but I tremble lest some mischance should mar our plans."
"That is good sense," Father Anselm said; "and remember, not aword must be spoken when we have once left this chamber. There isa sentry at the gate; and although the night is dark, and I deemnot that he can see us, yet must we observe every precaution."
"Holy father," Archie said, "no words of mine can thank you forthe part which you are playing tonight. Believe me, Archie Forbeswill ever feel grateful for your kindness and aid; and should youever quit Dunstaffnage you will be welcomed at Aberfilly Castle. Asto you, lady, henceforth Archie Forbes is your knight and servant.You have given me my life, and henceforth I regard it as yours. Willyou take this ring as my token? Should you ever send it to me, inwhatever peril or difficulty you may be, I will come to your aidinstantly, even should it reach me in a stricken battle. Think notthat I speak the language of idle gallantry. Hitherto my thoughtshave been only on Scotland, and no maiden has ever for an instantdrawn them from her. Henceforth, though I fight for Scotland, yetwill my country have a rival in my heart; and even while I chargeinto the ranks of the English, the fair image of Marjory MacDougallwill be in my thoughts."
Father Anselm gave a slight start of surprise as Archie concluded,and would have spoken had not the girl touched him lightly. Shetook the pledge from Archie and said, "I will keep your ring, SirArchibald Forbes; and should I ever have occasion for help I willnot forget your promise. As to your other words, I doubt not thatyou mean them now; but it is unlikely, though I may dwell in yourthoughts, that you will ever in the flesh see Marjory MacDougall,between whose house and yours there is, as you know, bitter enmity."
"There! there!" Father Anselm said impatiently; "enough, and morethan enough talk. Go to the door, Sir Archibald, and prepare toopen it directly I have blown out the light. The way up the stairslies on your right hand as you go out."
Not another word was spoken. Noiselessly the little party made theirway to the roof; there one end of the rope was quickly knotted roundthe battlement. Archie grasped the good priest's hand, and kissedthat of the girl; and then, swinging himself off the battlement,disappeared at once in the darkness. Not a sound was heard forsome time, then the listening pair above heard a faint splash inthe water. The priest laid his hands on the rope and found that itswung slack in the air; he hauled it up and twisted it again roundhis waist. As he passed the door of the cell he pushed it to andreplaced the bars and bolts, and then with his charge regained theportion of the castle inhabited by the family.
A few vigorous strokes took Archie across the moat, and an hourlater he was deep in the heart of the forest. Before morning brokehe was far beyond the risk of pursuit; and, taking the bearings ofthe surrounding hills, he found himself, after some walking, at thespot where he had left the royal party. As he had expected, it wasdeserted; he, however, set out on the traces of the party, and thatnight overtook them at their next encampment.
With the reticence natural to young lovers Archie felt a disinclinationto speak of what had happened, or of the services which MarjoryMacDougall had rendered him. As it was naturally supposed that hehad lost his way in the woods on the previous day, and had not reachedthe encampment in the morning, until after they had started, fewquestions were asked, and indeed the thoughts of the whole partywere occupied with the approaching separation which the nightbefore they had agreed was absolutely necessary. The ladies wereworn out with their fatigues and hardships, and the Earl of Athole,and some of the other elder men, were also unable longer to supportit. Winter was close at hand, and the hardships would increase tenfold in severity. Therefore it was concluded that the time
had comewhen they must separate, and that the queen and her companions,accompanied by those who could still be mounted, should seek shelterin Bruce's strong castle of Kildrummy. The Earl of Athole and theking's brother Nigel were in charge of the party.
Bruce with his remaining companions determined to proceed intoKintyre, the country of Sir Neil Campbell, and thence to cross fora time to the north of Ireland. Sir Neil accordingly started toobtain the necessary vessels, and the king and his company followedslowly. To reach the Firth of Clyde it was necessary to cross LochLomond. This was a difficult undertaking; but after great searchSir James Douglas discovered a small boat sunk beneath the surfaceof the lake. On being pulled out it was found to be old and leaky,and would hold at best but three. With strips torn from their garmentsthey stopped the leaks as best they could, and then started acrossthe lake. There were two hundred to cross, and the passage occupieda night and a day; those who could not swim being taken over in theboat, while the swimmers kept alongside and when fatigued restedtheir hands on her gunwales. They were now in the Lennox country,and while Bruce and his friends were hunting, they were delightedto come across the Earl of Lennox and some of his companions,who had found refuge there after the battle of Methven. Althoughhimself an exile and a fugitive the earl was in his own country,and was therefore able to entertain the king and his companionshospitably, and the rest and feeling of security were welcome indeedafter the past labours and dangers.
After a time Sir Neil Campbell arrived with the vessels, and,accompanied by the Earl of Lennox, Bruce and his companions embarkedat a point near Cardross. They sailed down the Clyde and roundthe south end of Arran, until, after many adventures and dangers,they reached the Castle of Dunaverty, on the south point of the Mullof Kintyre, belonging to Angus, chief of Islay. Here they waitedfor some time, but not feeling secure even in this secluded spotfrom the vengeance of their English and Scottish foes, they againset sail and landed at the Isle of Rathlin, almost midway betweenIreland and Scotland. Hitherto Robert Bruce had received but littleof that support which was so freely given to Wallace by the Scotchpeople at large; nor is this a matter for surprise. Baliol andComyn had in turn betrayed the country to the English, and Brucehad hitherto been regarded as even more strongly devoted to theEnglish cause than they had been. Thus the people viewed his attemptrather as an effort to win a throne for himself than as one to freeScotland from English domination. They had naturally no confidencein the nobles who had so often betrayed them, and Bruce especiallyhad, three or four times already, after taking up arms, made hispeace with England and fought against the Scots. Therefore, at firstthe people looked on at the conflict with comparative indifference.They were ready enough to strike for freedom, as they had provedwhen they had rallied round Wallace, but it was necessary beforethey did so that they should possess confidence in their leaders.Such confidence they had certainly no cause whatever to feel inBruce. The time was yet to come when they should recognize in him aleader as bold, as persevering, and as determined as Wallace himself.
The people of Rathlin were rude and ignorant, but simple andhospitable. The island contained nothing to attract either adventurersor traders, and it was seldom, therefore, that ships touched there,consequently there was little fear that the news of the sojourn ofthe Scotch king and his companions would reach the mainland, andindeed the English remained in profound ignorance as to what hadbecome of the fugitives, and deemed them to be still in hidingsomewhere among the western hills.
Edward had in council issued a proclamation commanding "all thepeople of the country to pursue and search for all who had been inarms and had not surrendered, also all who had been guilty of othercrimes, and to deliver them up dead or alive, and that whosoeverwere negligent in the discharge of his duty should forfeit theircastles and be imprisoned."
Pembroke, the guardian, was to punish at his discretion all whoharboured offenders. Those who abetted the slayers of Comyn, or whoknowingly harboured them or their accomplices, were to be "drawnand hanged," while all who surrendered were to be imprisoned duringthe king's pleasure. The edict was carried out to the letter, andthe English soldiery, with the aid of the Scotch of their party,scoured the whole country, putting to the sword all who were foundin arms or under circumstances of suspicion.