“I am certainly of that opinion, and I happen to know something of the matter,” observed Dr. Byrom. “I think Mr. Atherton Legh has behaved remarkably well.”
“Cannot the matter be adjusted?” asked General MacDonald.
“Impossible,” replied Sir Richard. “And I am sure you will agree with me, Sir John, when I give you an explanation in private.”
“But you are bound to state, Sir Richard,” said Dr. Byrom, “that Mr. Atherton Legh’s conduct has been in no respect unbecoming a gentleman.”
“That I am quite willing to admit,” rejoined the baronet.
“And with that admission I am satisfied,” observed Atherton.
“’Tis a thousand pities the difference, whatever it may be, cannot be amicably arranged,” said the general; “but since that appears impracticable, ‘twill be best to let the matter drop.”
Then turning to Dr. Byrom, he added, “Am I wrong, doctor, in supposing that the young lady standing near us is your daughter. If so, pray present me to her.”
Dr. Byrom readily complied, and Sir John seemed delighted by the zeal which the fair damsel displayed in the Jacobite cause.
“I see you already wear the white rose,” he said, glancing at the favour which she had pinned on her breast.
“It was given me by Helen Carnegie,” replied Beppy.
“And you needn’t scruple to wear it, for she is as honest and true-hearted a lassie as ever breathed,” said Sir John. “I know all about her. Though she has been exposed to many temptations, her character is quite irreproachable.”
“You hear what General MacDonald says, papa?” cried Beppy. “It confirms the good opinion I had formed of her. She seems to me to possess a great many good qualities, and at all events I admire her romantic attachment to her lover. Still, I don’t think I should have been so very much charmed with her if she hadn’t been so exceedingly pretty.”
“Ay, there’s her danger,” cried Sir John. “But I trust she will come to no harm. I hear Sergeant Dickson has brought her with him in his advance-march. ’Tis a bold step.”
“But it has proved successful,” said Beppy. “They have gained more than a hundred recruits.”
At this moment the beating of a drum was heard, followed by a shout that seemed to proceed from the direction of Market Street Lane, a thoroughfare which turned out of the market-place on the left near the Exchange.
Immediately afterwards Sergeant Dickson and his companions made their appearance, followed by a great number of young men, all of whom turned out to be volunteers.
As soon as Dickson became aware of the arrival of Sir John MacDonald, he led his large company of recruits towards the inn, and drawing them up in front of the house, dismounted and presented himself to the general.
Helen alighted at the same time, but did not come forward.
While this movement took place, all the officers had issued from the court-yard, and collected near their leader.
“Well, Dickson,” cried MacDonald, glancing at the band of young men drawn up before him. “Are these your recruits?”
“They are, general,” replied the sergeant, proudly. “And I trust Colonel Johnstone will be satisfied with me.”
“You have done well, that’s certain,” said Sir John. “But, to speak truth, how many of these fine young fellows do you owe to Helen?”
“I can’t tell, general. ’Tis enough for me that they’ve agreed to serve King James.”
“Nay, then, I must question her.”
At a sign from the sergeant, Helen left her horse with Rollo, and stepping forward, made Sir John a military salute.
She had now thrown off the plaid shawl which she had worn while on horseback, so that the exquisite symmetry of her lower limbs, set off by the tartan hose, was revealed. Her tiny feet were almost hidden by the buckles in her shoes.
Beppy gazed at her with admiration, and thought she looked even better than she had done on horseback. But she had other and more ardent admirers than Miss Byrom. Among the officers was a Captain Lindsay, a very handsome young man, who had long been desperately enamoured of her, but had managed to constrain his passion. He now kept his eyes constantly fixed upon her, and strove — though vainly — to attract her attention. Whenever Helen met his ardent glances, she turned aside her gaze.
“Aweel, Helen,” cried MacDonald; “I have been congratulating the sergeant on his success. But I think he mainly owes it to you, lassie. A blink o’ your bonnie blue een has done more than all his fair speeches.”
“You are mista’en, general,” replied Helen. “I may have gained a dizen, but not mair.”
“You do yourself an injustice, lassie. Half those brave lads belong to you.”
“I could tell you how many she enlisted at the Cross, for I was present at the time,” remarked Beppy.
“Then you must needs tell the general that I enlisted yerself, fair leddy, and that ye promised to find me a recruit,” said Helen.
“And so I will,” said Beppy. “Can I do aught more for you?”
“Give me a few yards of blue and white ribbon to make cockades, and I will thank you heartily,” rejoined Helen.
“Come home with me, and you shall have as much ribbon as you require, and I will help you to make the cockades,” said Beppy.
“You cannot refuse that offer, Helen,” remarked General MacDonald.
“I am na like to refuse it,” was the rejoinder. “The young leddy is ower gude.”
Helen then consulted the sergeant, who signified his assent, upon which she told Beppy she was ready to go with her. Excusing herself to the general, Beppy then took her father’s arm, and they set off for the doctor’s residence, accompanied by the Scottish damsel.
CHAPTER V.
HELEN CARNEGIE’S STORY.
After Helen Carnegie had partaken of some refreshment, and drunk a glass of mead, with which she was mightily pleased, she went with Beppy to the young lady’s boudoir, where a basket full of blue and white ribbons was found upon the work-table, and they sat down together to make cockades — chatting merrily as they proceeded with their task.
By this time the frank Scottish lassie had become quite confidential with her new friend, and had told her simple story — explaining that she was merely a husbandman’s daughter, and had passed eighteen summers and winters among the hills near Ruthven. She had first seen Sergeant Erick Dickson at Perth, when the Highland army came there. He had wooed her and won her heart, but she refused to wed him till the fighting was over. She afterwards saw him at Edinburgh, after the battle of Gladsmuir, and he pressed her so strongly to accompany him on the march to England that she consented. She had suffered far less than might have been expected from the fatigues of the long march, and thought she was now quite as strong and as able to endure hardship as Erick himself.
“You may blame me for the bold step I have taken, dear young leddy,” she said, “and I ken fu’ weel it was imprudent, but as yet I have had no cause to repent it. I loo’d Erick dearly, an’ didna like to pairt wi’ him. Sae I ha’ ridden by his side a’ the way frae Edinburgh to this toon, and shall gae on wi’ him to Lunnon, if the prince should gang sae far, as Heaven grant he may! To a young leddy like yersel, siccan a life as I hae led wadna be possible, but to a mountain lassie there’s nae hardship in it, but great enjoyment. Everywhere on the march, sin we crossed the Border, the Southrons hae shown me kindness. ’Twas only to ask and have. Never have I wanted a night’s lodging. As to Erick, you will readily guess how carefully he has tented me. But he has never neglected his duty, and I have helped him to discharge it as far as I could. Our love has been tried, and has stood the test, and is now stronger than ever. Loosome as ye are, young leddy, ye must needs hae a lover, and I trust he may prove as fond and faithful as Erick. Then you’ll never regret your choice.”
“I thank you for the good wish, Helen,” said Beppy, smiling. “But I have no lover.”
“I canna believe it. I’m much mista’en if I didna see a weel-fa
ur’d callant cast lovin’ een upon ye in the marketplace just now. He wasna far off when the general spoke to me.
“Mr. Atherton Legh, I suppose you mean?” observed Beppy, blushing.
“Ay, that’s his name. I heard the general ca’ him sae.”
“And so you have no fault to find with your lover?” said Beppy, anxious to change the subject.
“Fawt! — nane!” exclaimed Helen. “Erick hasna a fawt.”
“Is he never jealous?”
“Aweel, I canna deny that he is a wee bit jealous, if ye ca’ that a fawt; but his jealousy only proves his love. I should be jealous mysel if he talked to the lasses.”
“But do you talk to the lads, Helen?”
“My certie, na! but ther win talk to me, and that makes Erick angry sometimes. But I soon laugh it off.”
“Well, if it’s nothing more serious than that it doesn’t signify,” said Beppy. “You can’t prevent the young men from paying you compliments, you know.”
“And I maun be ceevil to them in return. But there’s one person that troubles me, and troubles Erick too — Captain Lindsay. He’s an officer in Lord Pitsligo’s regiment. Maybe you noticed him? — a fine-looking young man, taller than the rest; but weel-faur’d as he is, he’s not to compare with Erick.”
“You always keep Captain Lindsay at a distance, I hope, Helen?”
“I do my best. I never listen to his saft nonsense. I never accept any of the trinkets he offers me — but he winna be said.”
“Continue to treat him coldly, and his assiduities will soon cease,” observed Beppy.
“I’m not so sure of that. If he persists I fear there’ll be mischief, for he drives Erick furious.”
“I hope it mayn’t come to that, Helen,” said Beppy, rather gravely. “But much will depend on your discretion.”
They then went on with their task in silence.
By this time they had made two or three dozen cockades, and when nearly as many more were finished, Helen expressed surprise that Erick had not come to fetch her.
“He promised to come for me in an hour,” she said, “and it’s now gettin’ late.”
“Don’t make yourself uneasy,” replied Beppy. “He’ll be here soon. Where do you lodge to-night?”
“At the Angel in Market Street Lane. Why, there’s a clock has just struck nine. I must go. You’ll please to excuse me, miss. I’ll come betimes to-morrow and help you to finish the cockades.”
“Well, if you won’t stay any longer, I’ll send some one with you to the Angel.”
Helen declined the offer, saying she was not afraid to walk there by herself.
“But are you sure you can find the way?”
“Quite sure,” replied Helen.
And thanking the young lady for her kindness, she bade her good-night, and took her departure.
CHAPTER VI.
CAPTAIN LINDSAY.
The moon shone brightly as Helen was crossing the churchyard, but she had not gone far when she heard quick footsteps behind her, and thinking it must be Erick she stopped.
It was not her lover, but a tall Highland officer, whom she instantly recognised.
Surprised and alarmed at the sight, she would have fled, but Captain Lindsay, for it was he, sprang forward, and seized her arm.
“Let me go, I insist, sir,” she cried indignantly.
“Not till I have had a few words with you, Helen,” replied the captain. “I have been waiting an hour for you here. I found out that Miss Byrom had taken you home with her, so I kept watch near the door of the house for your coming forth. Erick, I knew, couldn’t interrupt us, for I had contrived to get him out of the way.”
“He shall hear of your base design, sir,” she cried, looking round for help. But she could see no one in the churchyard.
“Listen to me, Helen,” said Captain Lindsay. “I am so passionately in love that I would make any sacrifice for you. You must and shall be mine!”
“Never!” she cried, struggling vainly to get free. “I am plighted to Erick, as ye ken fu’ weel, and think you I wad break my vow to him? and for you, whom I hate!”
“Hate me or not, you shall be mine!” he cried. “Listen to reason, you foolish girl. Erick cannot love you as I love you.”
“He loves me far better — but I dinna mind that.”
“If you wed him, you will only be a poor soldier’s wife. With me you will have wealth and luxury.”
“Ye are merely wastin’ yer breath, sir,” she cried. “A’ your arguments have no effect on me. Were you to fill my lap with gowd, I wad fling it from me wi’ scorn. I care na for wealth and luxury — I care only for Erick.”
“To the devil with him!” cried Captain Lindsay, fiercely. “You are enough to drive one mad. If you won’t yield to persuasion, you shall yield to force. Mine you shall be, whether you will or not.”
“And he would have clasped her in his arms, but she seized the dirk which hung from his girdle and held it to his breast.
“Release me instantly, or I will plunge this to your heart,” she cried.
The energy with which she spoke left no doubt that she would execute her threat, and the baffled captain set her free.
At this moment assistance came. Erick could be seen hurrying towards them from the further side of the churchyard.
As soon as Helen perceived him she flung the dirk at Captain Lindsay’s feet, and flew to meet her lover.
“What’s the matter, lass?” cried the sergeant. “Has the villain insulted you? If he has, he shall pay for it wi’ his life.”
“Na! na!” cried Helen, stopping him. “Ye shall na gae near him. There’ll be mischief. You should ha’ come sooner, Erick, and then this wadna ha’ happened.”
“I could na come afore, lassie,” replied the sergeant. “I now see the trick that has been played me by this cunning villain; but he shall rue it.”
“Ye shall na stay anither minute in this unchancy kirkyard,” cried Helen, forcing him away with her.
Just as they went out at the gate, Helen cast a look back at Captain Lindsay, and saw him still standing, as if stupefied, on the spot where she had left him. He had not even picked up the dirk, for she could distinguish it glittering in the moonlight at his feet.
CHAPTER VII.
A RESIDENCE IS CHOSEN FOR THE PRINCE.
At an early hour on the following morning, a carriage drawn by four strong horses, and attended by a mounted guard, entered the town.
It contained four persons, all of a certain importance. Chief among them was Lord Pitsligo, than whom no one in the Highland army was more beloved and respected. The venerable Scottish nobleman was in full military costume, and would have ridden at the head of his regiment, had not his infirm state of health prevented him.
The next person whom we shall mention was Mr. John Murray of Broughton, a gentleman of great ability, who acted as the prince’s secretary and treasurer, and managed all his royal highness’s affairs extremely well. Mr. Murray had a sharp intelligent countenance, and wore a suit of brown velvet with a tie-wig.
Opposite to him sat the prince’s tutor and adviser, Sir Thomas Sheridan, one of the numerous Irish gentlemen who had attached themselves to the cause of the Stuarts. Sir Thomas, who was a strict Roman Catholic, exercised almost as much influence over the prince as Father Petre once did over the prince’s grandsire, James the Second.
Next to Sir Thomas sat a very brilliant personage, wearing a rich suit of sky-blue cloth trimmed with silver, laced ruffles, a laced cravat, and a three-cornered hat, likewise laced with silver. This was the Marquis d’Eguilles, an envoy from Louis the Fifteenth, who had brought over a large sum of money and nearly three thousand stand of arms from his royal master. The marquis had the refined and graceful manner of a French courtier of the period, and carried a diamond snuff-box, which was always at the service of his companions.
As the persons we have described crossed the bridge, they looked with some interest at the town they were just entering
, and bowed in return for the shouts of the crowd, who had rushed out to greet them.
Seeing such a large and handsome equipage attended by an escort, the townspeople naturally supposed it must be the prince himself, and when they found out their mistake, they did not shout quite so loudly.
The carriage drove to the market-place, where Lord Pitsligo and the others descended at the Bull’s Head. A substantial repast had been prepared for them by order of Sir John MacDonald, to which they at once sat down.
Before breakfast was over, Colonel Townley arrived, and at once joined the party. Several Jacobites likewise repaired to the inn and volunteered their services to Mr. Secretary Murray, who received them very affably, and introduced them to Lord Pitsligo.
Amongst the new-comers were Dr. Deacon and Dr. Byrom. Mr. Murray’s first business was to find a suitable residence for the prince during his stay in the town, and after consulting the two gentlemen we have named, he went out attended by Colonel Townley, the Marquis d’Eguilles, Sir Thomas Sheridan, and Dr. Byrom, to inspect the principal mansions in the place. Half a dozen soldiers went with them to keep back the crowd.
They first proceeded to Deansgate, where they examined a large house belonging to Mr. Touchet, one of the chief merchants of the place; but this was deemed unsuitable, being partly used as a warehouse, and was therefore assigned to Lord Elcho.
Mr. Floyd’s house, near St. Ann’s Square, was next visited; a handsome mansion, ornamented with pilasters, having a Belvidere on the summit, and approached by a noble flight of steps, but it did not entirely satisfy Mr. Murray, so he allotted it to Lord Pitsligo and Lord George Murray.
The next mansion inspected was Mr. Croxton’s, in King Street, a large building converted at a later period into the town-hall. Here quarters were found for Lord Balmerino, Lord Kilmarnock, and Lord Strathallan.
Mr. Marriott’s house, in Brown-street, was assigned to the Earl of Kelly and Lord Ogilvy; Mr. Gartside’s mansion was appropriated to the Duke of Perth; and a fine house in Market Street Lane, occupied by Mr. Marsden, was allotted to the Marquis of Tullibardine and Lord Nairne.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 699