John Burnet of Barns: A Romance

by John Buchan

  CHAPTER VI

  THE CAVE OF THE COR WATER

  The place we found ourselves in was a narrow passage, very lofty andvery dark, and with countless jags of rough stone on all sides toaffront the stranger. Some few paces led us into a wider place, lit bysome opening on the hillside, for a gleam as of pale moonlight was allabout it. There stood a sentinel, a tall, grave man, dressed in coarsehomespun, and brown of the face. Through this again we passed intoanother straitened place, which in a little opened into a chamber ofsome magnitude.

  When I grew accustomed to the candle-light, I made out that it was anatural cave in the whinstone rocks, maybe thirty feet in height, squarein shape, and not less than thirty feet long. The black sides wererough and crusted, and hung in many parts with articles of householdgear and warlike arms. But the place was less notable than the peoplewho were sitting there, and greeted us as we entered. In the midst wasa table of rough-hewn wood, whereon lay the remnants of a meal. Litpine-staves cast an eerie glow over all things, and in the light I sawthe faces of the company clear.

  On a settle of stone covered with a sheep's fleece sat an old man, largeof limb and tall, but bent and enfeebled with age. His long hair felldown almost to his shoulders; his features as the light fell upon themwere strong, but his eyes were sightless and dull as stone. He had agreat stick in his hand which he leaned on, and at our entrance he hadrisen and stared before him into vacancy, conscious of some newpresence, but powerless to tell of it. Near him, along by thetable-side, were two men of almost like age, square, well-knit fellows,with the tanned faces of hillmen. I guessed them to be shepherds orfolk of that sort who had fled to this common refuge. Beyond these againstood a tall, slim man of a more polished exterior than the rest; hisattitude had something of grace in it, and his face and bearingproclaimed him of better birth. Forbye, there were one or two more,gaunt, sallow folk, such as I had learned to know as the extremereligionists. These were busy conversing together with bowed heads andearnest voices, and took no heed of our arrival. To add to all, therewere two women, one with a little child, clearly the wives of theshepherds.

  Our guide went forward to the man who stood by the wall and whisperedsomething to him. In an instant he came to us, and, bowing to Marjory,bade us welcome. "We are glad to see you here, Master Burnet," said he."I am rejoiced to see the gentlemen of the land coming forth on the sideof the Covenant. It is you and such as you that we need, and we areblithe to give you shelter here as long as you care to bide with us. Itis a queer thing that two men of the same house should be engaged inthis business on different sides."

  Here one of the others spoke up.

  "I trust, Master Burnet, ye have brought us good news from the Lawlands.We heard that ye had great converse with the godly there, and we will beglad to hear your account of how the guid cause prospers over thewater."

  Now I felt myself in a position of much discomfort. The cause of myoutlawry had clearly got abroad, and here was I, credited with being azealous religionist and a great man among the Scots exiles in Holland.Whereas, as I have already said, I cared little for these things, beingnot of a temper which finds delight in little differences of creed ordetails of ecclesiastical government, but caring little in what way aman may worship his Maker. Indeed, to this day, while I can see theadvantage of having fixed rites and a church established, I see littleuse in making a pother about any deviation. So I now found myself in anunpleasing predicament. I must avow my utter ignorance of such mattersand my worldly motives for thus seeking shelter, and in all likelihood,win the disfavour of these folk, nay, even be not suffered to remain.

  "I thank you for your welcome," said I, "but I must hasten to setmatters right between us. I am not of your party, though it is mymisfortune to have to seek safety among the hills. It is true I havebeen in the Low Countries, but it was for the purposes of study andseeing the world, and not for the sake of religion. If I must speak thetruth, when I abode there I had little care of such things, for theywere never in my way. Now that I am returned and find myself afugitive, I am not a whit more concerned with them. My misfortunesarise from the guile of a kinsman, and not from my faith. So there youhave my predicament."

  I made the declaration crudely and roughly, for the necessity was urgentupon me of making it very plain at the outset. Another man would havebeen repelled or angered, but this man had the penetration to seethrough my mask of callousness that I was not ill-disposed to his cause.

  "It is no matter," he said. "Though you were the most rabid malignant,we would yet give you shelter. And, indeed, though you may not be ofour way of thinking in all matters, yet I doubt not you are with us onthe essentials. Forbye, you are a gentleman of Tweeddale, and it wouldbe queer if you werena right-hearted, Master John Burnet."

  Some one of the disputants grumbled, but the others seemed heartily toshare in this opinion, and bidding us sit down, they removed ourtravelling gear, and set food before us. Our appetites were sharp withthe long hill journey, and we were not slow in getting to supper.Meanwhile the long man to whom we had first spoken busied himself withserving us, for in that desert place every man was his own servant.Afterwards Marjory went to the women, and soon won their liking, for theheart would be hard indeed which was not moved by her pretty ways andgraces.

  When I had done I sat down on the settle with the rest, and the firewhich burned in a corner of the cave was made up, and soon the place wasless dismal but a thousandfold more fantastic. I could scarce keep fromthinking that it was all a dream; that my landing, and midnight ride,and Nicol's news, and my perilous predicament were all figments of thebrain. I was too tired to have any anxiety, for I would have youremember that I had ridden all the night and most of the day without awink of sleep, besides having just come off a sea voyage. My eyelidsdrooped, and I was constantly sinking off into a doze. The whole placetended to drowsiness; the shadows and the light, the low hum of talk,the heavy air, for the outlet for smoke was but narrow. But the man Ihave spoken of came and sat down beside me and would engage me in talk.

  "I do not think you know me, Master Burnet," said he; "but I knew yourfather well, and our houses used to be well acquaint. I am one o' theCarnwath Lockharts, that ye may hae heard o'. My name is FrancisLockhart o' the Beltyne."

  I knew him when he uttered the words, for I had often heard tell of himfor a gallant gentleman who had seen service under Gustavus and in manyLow Country wars. I complimented myself on his acquaintance, whichkindness he proceeded to repay. So we fell to discussing manythings--men I had known in Leyden, men I had known in Tweeddale,together with the more momentous question of the future of each of us.I gave him a full account of my recent fortunes, that he might havewherewith to contradict any rumours as to my reasons for taking to thehills. He in turn spoke to me of his life, and his sorrow at the fateof his land. The man spoke in such unfeigned grief, and likewise withsuch a gentleman-like note of fairness, that I felt myself drawn to him.It was while thus engaged that he spoke a word which brought upon himthe condemnation of one of the ethers.

  "Oh," said he, "I would that some way might be found to redd up thaeweary times and set the king richt on his throne, for I canna butbelieve that in this matter loyalty and religion go hand in hand; andthat were James Stewart but free from his wanchancy advisers there wouldbe less talk of persecuting."

  At this one of the others, a dark man from the West, spoke up sharply."What do I hear, Maister Lockhart? It's no by ony goodwill to JamesStewart that we can hope to set things richt in thae dark times. Ratherlet our mouths be filled with psalms and our hands with the sword-hilt,and let us teach the wanton and the scorner what manner o' men are bredby the Covenant and the Word."

  The speech was hateful to me, and yet as I looked in the dark, ruggedface of the man I could not keep from liking it. Here, at any rate, wasa soul of iron. My heart stirred at his words, and I could have foundit in me to cast in my lot even with such as these,
and bide the bentwith naught but a good sword and faith in God. Howbeit, it was well Imade no such decision, for I was never meant for one of them. I eversaw things too clearly, both the evil and the good; and whereas thisquality hinders from swift and resolute action, it yet leads moreplainly to a happy life.

  Then the old man, him whom I have spoken of, beckoned to me with hisstaff and bade me come and sit by him. He looked so kinglike even inhis affliction that I thought on the old blind king Oedipus in the Greekplay.

  "Ye kenna me, John Burnet, but weel ken I you. Often in the auld daysyour father and me had gey ploys hunting and fechting roond a' the muirso' Tweed. He was a guid man, was Gilbert, and I hear he had glimpses o'grace in the hinner end."

  "Maybe," said I, being in perplexity, for from the grace that he spokeof, my father had ever been far.

  "Ay, and I was sair vexed I saw him so little. For he had to bide athame for the last years, and I was aye busied wi' other work. Yeddie o'the Linns was never an idle man, and less than ever in thae days."

  At the mention of his name a flood of recollection came in upon me. Iminded how I had heard of the son of Lord Fairley, a great soldier whohad won high renown in the wars abroad: and how he had returned amelancholy man, weighed down with the grave cares of religion, and goneto the wilds of Tweed to a hut just above the Linns of Talla, where hespent his days in prayer and meditation. The name of Yeddie o' theLinns, as he was called among the shepherds and folk of these parts,became an equivalent for high-hearted devotion. Then when the warsbegan tales of him grew over the countryside. In stature he was all butgigantic, famed over half the towns of France for feats of strength, andno evil living had impaired his might. So at the outbreak of thepersecution he had been a terror to the soldiers who harried theseparts. The tale ran of the four men whom he slew single-handed at theLinns, hemming them in a nook of rocks, and how often he had succouredfugitives and prisoners, coming like an old lion from the hills andreturning no one knew whither. There was also the tale of his blindingby a chance splinter from a bullet-shot, and how he had lived among thecaves and hills, dangerous even in his affliction. Had I but known it,this cave was his finding, and half the retreats in Tweeddale andClydesdale were known to him. But now he was an old man, who had longleft his youth, and his strength had all but gone from him. He satalone in his great darkness, speaking little to the inmates or thechance comers, save when he knew them for gentlemen of birth; for thoughhe might risk his life for the common people, he had no care toassociate with them, being of the old Kirkpatricks of that ilk, as prouda house as is to be found in the land.

  "You are not of us," he said suddenly. "I heard you say a moment agonethat you had no share in the inheritance of Jacob, but still chose todwell among the tents of sin."

  "Nay," I said very gently, for he was very old and of noble presence,"do not speak thus. Surely it is no sin to live at peace in the goodearth in honour and uprightness, and let all nice matters of doctrine goby, esteeming it of more importance to be a good man and true than asubtle disquisitioner--thinking, too, that all such things are of littlemoment and change from age to age, and that to concern one's self muchwith them is to follow vain trifles. For the root of the whole matteris a simple thing on which all men are agreed, but the appurtenances aremany, and to me at least of such small significance that I care for themnot at all. I do not mind how a man worship his Maker, if he have butreal devoutness. I do not care how a church is governed if the folk init are in very truth God's people."

  "You speak well, my son," said he, "and at one time I should have gonewith you. Nor do I set any great value by doctrine. But you are youngand the blood is still rich in your veins and the world seems a fairplace, with many brave things to be achieved. But I am old and haveseen the folly of all things, how love is only a delusion and honour acatchword and loyalty a mockery. And as the things of earth slip awayfrom me, and the glory of my strength departs, I see more clearly theexceeding greatness of the things of God. And as my eyes cease to beset on earth, I see more nearly the light of that better country whichis an heavenly. So I love to bide in these dark moors where the pomp ofthe world comes not, among men of grave conversation, for I have leisureand a fitting place to meditate upon the things to come."

  "It may be," said I, "that some day I also be of your way of thinking.At present the world, though the Devil is more loose in it than I love,seems to me so excellent that I would pluck the heart of it before Icondemn it. But God grant that I may never lose sight of the beauty ofHis kingdom."

  "Amen to that," said the old man very reverently.

  Truly, my thoughts on things were changing. Here was I in the verystronghold of the fanatics, and in the two chief, the old man and MasterLockhart, I found a reasonable mind and lofty purpose. And thus I haveever found it, that the better sort of the Covenanters were the verycream of Scots gentlefolk, and that 'twas only in the _canaille_ thatthe gloomy passion of fanatics was to be found.

  Meantime Nicol, who cared for none of these things, was teaching thechild how to play at the cat's garterns.