The Collected Western Classics & Adventures Novels. William MacLeod RaineЧитать онлайн книгу.
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Despite my apparent unconcern I was playing desperately for my life. That Volney was dallying with some plan of escape for me I became more confident, and I knew from experience that nothing would touch the man on his weak side so surely as an imperturbable manner.
“I mentioned pique and spite, Mr. Montagu, and you did not take my meaning. Believe me, not against you, but against that oaf Cumberland,” he said.
“And what may your presence here have to do with your pique against the Duke? I confess that the connection is not plain to me,” I said in careless fashion.
“After you left to-day, Mr. Montagu, I humbled myself to ask a favour of the Dutchman—the first I ever asked, and I have done him many. He refused it and turned his back on me.”
“The favour was——?”
“That you might be taken to London for trial and executed there.”
I looked up as if surprised. “And why this interest on my behalf, Sir Robert?”
He shrugged. “I do not know—a fancy—a whim. George Selwyn would never forgive me if I let you be hanged and he not there to see.”
“Had you succeeded Selwyn would have had you to thank for a pleasant diversion, but I think you remarked that the Dutchman was obstinate. ’Tis a pity—for Selwyn’s sake.”
“Besides, I had another reason. You and I had set ourselves to play out a certain game in which I took an interest. Now I do not allow any blundering foreigners to interfere with my amusements.”
“I suppose you mean you do not like the foreigner to anticipate you.”
“By God, I do not allow him to when I can prevent it.”
“But as in this instance you cannot prevent it——” My sentence tailed into a yawn.
“That remains to be seen,” he retorted, and whipped off first one boot and then the other. The unfastened cloak fell to the floor, and he began to unloose his doublet.
I stared calmly, though my heart stood still.
“Really, Sir Robert! Are you going to stay all night? I fear my accommodations are more limited than those to which you have been accustomed.”
“Don’t stand gaping there, Montagu. Get off those uncivilized rags of yours and slip on these. You’re going out as Sir Robert Volney.”
“I am desolated to interfere with your revenge, but—the guards?”
“Fuddled with drink,” he said. “I took care of that. Don’t waste time asking questions.”
“The Duke will be in a fearful rage with you.”
His eyes grew hard. “Am I a child that I should tremble when Cumberland frowns?”
“He’ll make you pay for this.”
“A fig for the payment!”
“You’ll lose favour.”
“I’ll teach the sullen beast to refuse me one. The boots next.”
He put on the wig and hat for me, arranged the muffler over the lower part of my face, and fastened the cloak.
“The watchword for the night is ‘Culloden.’ You should have no trouble in passing. I needn’t tell you to be bold,” he finished dryly.
“I’ll not forget this,” I told him.
“That’s as you please,” he answered carelessly. “I ask no gratitude. I’m settling a debt, or rather two—one due Cumberland and the other you.”
“Still, I’ll remember.”
“Oh, all right. Hope we’ll have the pleasure of renewing our little game some day. Better take to the hills or the water. You’ll find the roads strictly guarded. Don’t let yourself get killed, my friend. The pleasure of running you through I reserve for myself.”
I passed out of the hut into the night. The troopers who guarded the bothy were in either the stupid or the uproarious stage of their drink. Two of them sang a catch of a song, and I wondered that they had not already brought down on them the officer of the day. I passed them carelessly with a nod. One of them bawled out, “The watchword!” and I gave them “Culloden.” Toward the skirts of the village I sauntered, fear dogging my footsteps; and when I was once clear of the houses, cut across a meadow toward the shore, wary as a panther, eyes and ears alert for signals of danger. Without mishap I reached the sound, beat my way up the sand links for a mile or more, and saw a boat cruising in the moonlight off shore. I gave the whaup’s cry, and across the water came an answer.
Five minutes later I was helping the gillie in the boat pull across to Raasay. When half way over we rested on our oars for a breathing space and I asked the news, the rug-headed kerne shot me with the dismal tidings that Malcolm Macleod and Creagh, rowing to Skyes for a conference with Captain Roy, had fallen into the hands of the troopers waiting for them among the sand dunes. He had but one bit of comfort in his budget, and that was “ta yellow-haired Sassenach body wass leaving this morning with Raasay hersel’ and Murdoch.” At least I had some assurance that my undertaking had secured the safety of the Prince, even though three staunch men were on their way to their death by reason of it.
Once landed on Raasay, I made up the brae to the great house. Lights were still burning, and when I got close ’twas easy to be seen that terror and confusion filled it. Whimpering, white-faced women and wailing bairns ran hither and thither blindly. Somewhere in the back part of the house the bagpipes were soughing a dismal kind of dirge. Fierce-eyed men with mops of shock hair were gathered into groups of cursing clansmen. Through them all I pushed my way in to Aileen.
Chapter XIII
The Little God has an Innings
By the great fireplace she stood, hands clasped, head upturned as in prayer. The lips moved silently in the petition of her heart. I saw in profile a girl’s troubled face charged with mystery, a slim, tall, weary figure all in white against the flame, a cheek’s pure oval, the tense curve of a proud neck, a mass of severely snodded russet hair. So I recalled her afterward, picture of desolation seeking comfort, but at the moment when I blundered on her my presence seemed profanity and no time was found for appraisement. Abashed I came to a halt, and was for tiptoeing back to the door; but hearing me she turned.
“Kenneth!” she cried, and stood with parted lips. Then, “They told me——”
“That I was taken. True, but I escaped. How, I will tell you later. The Prince— Is he safe?”
“For the present, yes. A lugger put in this morning belonging to some smugglers. In it he sailed for the mainland with Ronald and Murdoch. You will have heard the bad news,” she cried.
“That Malcolm, Creagh, and Donald are taken?”
“And Flora, too. She iss to be sent to London for assisting in the escape of the Prince. And so are the others.”
I fell silent, deep in thought, and shortly came to a resolution.
“Aileen, the Highlands are no place for me. I am a stranger here. Every clachan in which I am seen is full of danger for me. To-morrow I am for London.”
“To save Malcolm,” she cried.
“If I can. Raasay cannot go. He must stay to protect his clansmen. Murdoch is a fugitive and his speech would betray him in an hour. Remains only I.”
“And I.”
“You?”
“Why not? After ‘the ’15’ women’s tears saved many a life. And I too have friends. Sir Robert Volney, evil man as