by John Buchan
CHAPTER III.
I FARE BADLY ABROAD.
All this has taken a long time to set down, but there was little time inthe acting. Scarce half an hour had passed from my waking by the black firetill I found myself up to the waist in the stream. I made no further delay,but, as soon as the air was quiet, led Saladin out as stilly as I could onthe far side of the willows, clambered on his back (for I was too sore inbody to mount in any other fashion), and was riding for dear life alongthe moor road in the contrary direction to that from which I had come onthe night before. The horse had plainly been well fed, since, doubtless,the ruffians had marked him for their own plunder. He covered the ground ingallant fashion, driving up jets and splashes of rain water from the poolsin the way. Mile after mile was passed with no sound of pursuers; one hillgave place to another; the stream grew wider and more orderly; but still Ikept up the breakneck pace, fearing to slacken rein. Fifteen miles werecovered, as I judged, before I saw the first light of dawn in the sky, ared streak in a gray desert; and brought my horse down to a trot, thankingGod that at last I was beyond danger.
I was sore in body, with clammy garments sticking to my skin, aching inback and neck, unslept, well-nigh as miserable as a man could be. But greatas was my bodily discomfort, 'twas not one tittle to compare with thesickness of my heart. I had been driven to escape from a hostel by a windowlike a common thief; compelled to ride,--nay, there was no use indisguising it,--to flee, before a pack of ill-bred villains; I, a gentlemanof France, who had ruffled it with the best of them in my fit ofprosperity. Again and again I questioned with myself whether I had not donebetter to die in that place, fighting as long as the breath was in my body.Of this I am sure, at any rate, that it would have been the way moresoothing to my pride. I argued the matter with myself, according to themost approved logic, but could come no nearer to the solution. For while Ithought the picture of myself dying with my back to the wall the moreheroical and gentleman-like, it yet went sore against me to think ofmyself, with all my skill of the sword and the polite arts, perishing in adesert place at the hand of common cutthroats. 'Twas no fear of death, Igive my word of honor; that was a weakness never found in our race. Courageis a virtue I take no credit for; 'tis but a matter of upbringing. But aman loves to make some noise in the earth ere he leaves it, or at least topass with blowings of the trumpet and some manner of show. To this day Icannot think of any way by which I could have mended my conduct. I can butset it down as a mischance of Providence, which meets all men in theircareer, but of which no man of spirit cares to think.
The sun rose clear, but had scarce shone for an hour, when, as is the wayin this land, a fresh deluge of rain came on, and the dawn, which hadbegun in crimson, ended in a dull level of gray. I had never been used withmuch foul weather of this sort, so I bore it ill. 'Twas about nine of themorning when I rode into the village of Drumlanrig, a jumble of houses inthe lee of a great wood, which runs up to meet the descending moorlands.Some ragged brats, heedless of the weather, played in the street, if onemay call it by so fine a name; but for the most part the houses seemedquite deserted. A woman looked incuriously at me; a man who was carryingsacks scarce raised his head to view me; the whole place was like adwelling of the dead. I have since learned the reason, which was no otherthan the accursed butchery on which I had quarreled with Quentin Kennedy,and so fallen upon misfortune. The young and manly were all gone; some tothe hills for hiding, some to the town prisons, some across the seas towork in the plantations, and some on that long journey from which no manreturns. My heart boils within me to this day to think of it--but there! itis long since past, and I have little need to be groaning over it now.
There was no inn in the place, but I bought bread from the folk of a littlefarm-steading at one end of the village street. They would scarce give itto me at first, and 'twas not till they beheld my woebegone plight thattheir hearts relented. Doubtless they took me for one of the soldiers whohad harried them and theirs, little guessing that 'twas all for their sakethat I was in such evil case. I did not tarry to ask the road, for Leithwas too far distant for the people in that place to know it. Of this much Iwas sure, that it lay to the northeast, so I took my way in that direction,shaping my course by the sun. There was a little patch of green fields, aclump of trees, and a quiet stream beside the village; but I had scarceridden half a mile beyond it when once more the moor swallowed me up inits desert of moss and wet heather.
I was now doubly dispirited. My short exhilaration of escape had gone, andall the pangs of wounded pride and despair seized upon me, mingled with asort of horror of the place I had come through. Whenever I saw a turn ofhill which brought the _Angel's Ladder_ to my mind, I shivered in spite ofmyself, and could have found it in my heart to turn and flee. In addition,I would have you remember, I was soaked to the very skin, my eyes wearywith lack of sleep, and my legs cramped with much riding.
The place in the main was moorland, with steep, desolate hills on my left.On the right to the south I had glimpses of a fairer country, woods anddistant fields, seen for an instant through the driving mist. In a triceFrance was back in my mind, for I could not see an acre of green landwithout coming nigh to tears. Yet, and perhaps 'twas fortunate for me, suchglimpses were all too rare. For the most part, the way was along successionof sloughs and mires, with here a piece of dry, heathy ground, and there animpetuous water coming down from the highlands. Saladin soon fell tired,and, indeed, small wonder, since he had come many miles, and his fare hadbeen of the scantiest. He would put his foot in a bog-hole and stumble sosharply that I would all but lose my seat. Then, poor beast, he would takeshame to himself, and pick his way as well as his weary legs would sufferhim. 'Twas an evil plight for man and steed, and I knew not which to pitythe more.
At noon, I came to the skirts of a long hill, whose top was hidden withfog, but which I judged to be high and lonesome. I met a man--the first Ihad seen since Drumlanrig--and asked him my whereabouts. I learned that thehill was called Queen's Berry, and that in some dozen miles I would strikethe high road to Edinburgh. I could get not another word out of him, butmust needs content myself with this crumb of knowledge. The road in frontwas no road, nothing but a heathery moor, with walls of broken stonesseaming it like the lines of sewing in an old coat. Gray broken hills cameup for a minute, as a stray wind blew the mist aside, only to disappear thenext instant in a ruin of cloud.
From this place I mark the beginning of the most wretched journey in mymemory. Till now I had had some measure of bodily strength to support me.Now it failed, and a cold shivering fit seized on my vitals, and more thanonce I was like to have fallen from my horse. A great stupidity came overmy brain; I could call up no remembrance to cheer me, but must plod on in ahorror of darkness. The cause was not far distant--cold, wet, and despair.I tried to swallow some of the rain-soaked bread in my pouch, but my mouthwas as dry as a skin. I dismounted to drink at a stream, but the watercould hardly trickle down my throat so much did it ache. 'Twas as if I wereon the eve of an ague, and in such a place it were like to be the end ofme.
Had there been a house, I should have craved shelter. But one effect of mysickness was, that I soon strayed woefully from my path, such as it was,and found myself in an evil case with bogs and steep hillsides. I had muchto do in keeping Saladin from danger; and had I not felt the obligation tobehave like a man, I should have flung the reins on his neck and let himbear himself and his master to destruction. Again and again I drove thewish from my mind--"As well die in a bog-hole or break your neck over acrag as dwine away with ague in the cold heather, as you are like to do,"said the tempter. But I steeled my heart, and made a great resolve to keepone thing, though I should lose all else--some shreds of my manhood.
Toward evening I grew so ill that I was fain, when we came to a levelplace, to lay my head on Saladin's neck, and let him stumble forward. Myhead swam, and my back ached so terribly that I guessed feverishly thatsomeone had stabbed me unawares. The weather cleared just about even, andthe light of day fl
ickered out in a watery sunset. 'Twas like the close ofmy life, I thought, a gray ill day and a poor ending. The notion depressedme miserably. I felt a kinship with that feeble evening light, a kinshipbegotten of equality in weakness. However, all would soon end; my day mustpresently have its evening; and then, if all tales were true, and myprayers had any efficacy, I should be in a better place.
But when once the night in its blackness had set in, I longed for the lightagain, however dismal it might be. A ghoulish song, one which I had heardlong before, was ever coming to my memory:
"La pluye nous a debuez et lavez, Et le soleil dessechez et noirciz; Pies, corbeaux----"
With a sort of horror I tried to drive it from my mind. A dreadfulheaviness oppressed me. Fears which I am ashamed to set down thronged mybrain. The way had grown easier, or I make no doubt my horse had fallen.'Twas a track we were on, I could tell by the greater freedom with whichSaladin stepped. God send, I prayed, that we be near to folk, and that theybe kindly; this prayer I said many times to the accompaniment of thewhistling of the doleful wind. Every gust pained me. I was the sport of theweather, a broken puppet tossed about by circumstance.
Now an answer was sent to me, and that a speedy one. I came of a sudden toa clump of shrubbery beside a wall. Then at a turn of the way a lightshone through, as from a broad window among trees. A few steps more and Istumbled on a gate, and turned Saladin's head up a pathway. The raindripped heavily from the bushes, a branch slashed me in the face, and myweariness grew tenfold with every second. I dropped like a log before thedoor, scarce looking to see whether the house was great or little; and, ereI could knock or make any call, swooned away dead on the threshold.