*CHAPTER XLI*
*IN THE HANDS OF THE PERSECUTORS*
I reined in the impulse that seized me to spring forward and attempt arescue. That way lay madness, and the failure of all hope to effect mypurpose. If I adventured it I knew that I should be shot down like a dogand that Mary would go to her fate unsuccoured. Wisdom lay in waitingto see how events would shape themselves. If, at the last, I found thatMary was being taken to Christie's Mount to be martyred on one of thegibbets there, then I should not stand quietly by and see a mercilessvengeance wreak itself upon her. If I could not rescue her, I shoulddie with her.
I mixed with the crowd again and was borne onward as it surged up theVennel. In the press I was thrust so near to Mary that, had I stretchedout my hand, I could have touched her, and though my eyes sought herface and feasted upon it, I tore myself away lest she should see me andin a moment of recognition betray us both. The cavalcade breasted thehill up to the High Street and as we went the crowd grew as every shopdoor added its unit. Here and there a high window was thrown opensuddenly and the head of a man or woman would appear, with eyesdowncast, to see what was going on in the street below. More than onceI heard a word of pity fall from unseen lips.
The company swung into the High Street. Eager new-comers thrustthemselves forward and broke the line of my vision so that it wasdifficult to keep Mary in sight, but I watched for the aureole of goldset among her chestnut hair, and seeing it my heart beat high again.
By and by we came to the Tolbooth and the cavalcade halted. There was aloud knocking at the door which, in a moment, was thrown wide open, andtwo of the dragoons rode in with Mary between them. Then the door wasshut in our faces. The crowd hung uncertain for a little space, then itbegan to disperse slowly till only a handful of curious idlers was leftgazing vacantly at the prison. Of them I was one, but though my bodywas idle my mind was working at fever heat. Mary was in the Tolbooth!That meant, at the very least, that no immediate travesty of justice wasto be perpetrated upon her. Perhaps, like the women at Wigtown, shewould be given a trial, and it might come to pass that she would befound blameless and set free.
As though in answer to this thought the great oaken door swung openagain. With eyes almost starting from their sockets, I watched to seeher come forth. But no; my hopes that had been soaring in the skycrashed headlong to the earth. The dragoons that had led her in rodeforth and the door closed behind them. The company formed up and setout for its quarters and I was left gazing at the door as though a spellwere upon me. Suddenly it flashed upon me that to stand there with eyesriveted upon the Tolbooth was to draw attention to myself; so I turnedslowly away and walked, as though I were a casual wayfarer, down theHigh Street again. By the time I had reached the head of the Vennel mymind was set. Mary must be saved. I should rescue her or perish in theattempt. A hive of schemes swarmed in my brain, and my mind wasperplexed and divided. Then I thought of Hector. He, if anyone, couldaid me: but time was precious and where could I find him? Then Iremembered Phemie McBride, and quickening my pace I hurried down theVennel. Near the Vennel Port a crowd was assembled and when I came tothe edge of it I found that my way was blocked by the press of thepeople. As I stood waiting for a break through which to worm myself, Ioverheard two boys talking together on its outskirts:
"Ay, I'm tellin' ye, I ha'e juist seen a man shot."
"Get awa'!"
"Ay."
"Tell me aboot it."
"They stood him up on the Sands and six sodgers stood afore him and tookaim at his breist."
"Was he feart?"
"De'il a bit!"
"Get on."
"He never even trem'led. But ane o' the young sodgers was gey shaky.Then the captain cried 'Fire' and they a' shot thegither. The man gieda kin' o' jump in the air and fell in a heap."
"Deid?"
"Ay, deid, but no quite, for ane o' his legs gied a bit shake, andscraped the grun'. Weel, the captain took a lang pistol oot o' his belta' covered wi' siller, and bendin' doon pit it to his heid and fired."
"Behin' his lug?"
"Ay, behin' his lug."
"Eh, I wish I had been there!"
"Weel, never mind, ye'll come the morn wi' me."
"Whaur tae?"
"Tae the College pool and see them droonin' the woman."
"Are they gaun to droon a woman?"
"Ay, they are that."
"As shair as daith?"
"Ay, as shair as daith," and he drew a wet finger across his dirty neck.
"Hoo will they droon her?"
"They'll pit her in a poke wi' twa channel stanes and they'll fling herricht into the pool."
"Will she sink?"
"Ay, richt eneuch."
"I'm comin'."
"Come on, and I'll show ye the bluid o' the man they shot; maybe we'llfin' a bullet."
My fingers itched to be at the throats of these carrion-crows of thestreets, to whom Mary's extremity and mine was nothing more than anoccasion of amusement.
My heart cried within me--"O my beloved!" and I pulled myself togetherand began to force a path through the rabble and by and by succeeded inreaching the Vennel Port. Quickly I crossed the bridge and made for thecottage of Phemie McBride.
I knocked anxiously at the door. Would she remember me and--would sheknow where Hector was? As these doubts and fears were racing through mymind, the door was opened just far enough to allow the good woman toprotrude an inquiring face. She looked at me penetratingly; thenrecognition dawned:
"It's you, is it?"
"Where's Hector?" I answered brusquely.
"Come awa' ben," she said, "and see for yersel'," and with that shethrew the door wide open to allow me to enter. I sprang past her, andthere, sitting by the kitchen fire, his pipe aglow and his well-thumbedcopy of Horace in his hand, sat the packman. He sprang to his feet andgrasped me warmly by the hand.
"Man," he said, "ye couldna ha'e come at a better time. I'm fairgraivelled by this passage in Horace. Can ye gie me the sense o't?"
"To perdition with Horace," I shouted. "Mary's in the Tolbooth ofDumfries and I want your help."
The book fell spinning from his hand and lay face down on the floor.
"In the Tolbooth o' Dumfries!" he exclaimed. "Wha tellt ye that?"
"I saw her enter less than an hour ago with my own eyes," I said.
Hector stooped, and, before replying, picked up his book. "In theTolbooth o' Dumfries," he said slowly. "Guid sakes! I thocht thelassie was deid. Ye're sure it's her?"
"As sure," I answered, "as I am that I am speaking to you."
"Weel," he replied, "if that's so Horace maun juist bide a wee. This isa maitter that wants considerin'. Come awa' to my room," and he led theway to the chamber in which, close on a year ago, I myself had slept.
Flower o' the Heather: A Story of the Killing Times Page 41