CHAPTER XIII
THE LITTLE GOD HAS AN INNINGS
By the great fireplace she stood, hands clasped, head upturned as inprayer. The lips moved silently in the petition of her heart. I saw inprofile a girl's troubled face charged with mystery, a slim, tall, wearyfigure all in white against the flame, a cheek's pure oval, the tensecurve of a proud neck, a mass of severely snodded russet hair. So Irecalled her afterward, picture of desolation seeking comfort, but at themoment when I blundered on her my presence seemed profanity and no timewas found for appraisement. Abashed I came to a halt, and was fortiptoeing back to the door; but hearing me she turned.
"Kenneth!" she cried, and stood with parted lips. Then, "They toldme----"
"That I was taken. True, but I escaped. How, I will tell you later. ThePrince-- Is he safe?"
"For the present, yes. A lugger put in this morning belonging to somesmugglers. In it he sailed for the mainland with Ronald and Murdoch. Youwill 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 escapeof 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. Everyclachan in which I am seen is full of danger for me. To-morrow I am forLondon."
"To save Malcolm," she cried.
"If I can. Raasay cannot go. He must stay to protect his clansmen. Murdochis a fugitive and his speech would betray him in an hour. Remains onlyI."
"And I."
"You?"
"Why not? After 'the '15' women's tears saved many a life. And I too havefriends. Sir Robert Volney, evil man as he iss, would move heaven andearth to save my brother."
There was much truth in what she said. In these days of many executions apardon was to be secured less by merit than by the massing of influence,and I knew of no more potent influence than a beautiful woman in tears.Together we might be able to do something for our friends. But there wasthe long journey through a hostile country to be thought of, and theprobability that we might never reach our destination in freedom. I couldnot tell the blessed child that her presence would increase threefold mychances of being taken, nor indeed was that a thing that held weight withme. Sure, there was her reputation to be considered, but the company of amaid would obviate that difficulty.
Ronald returned next day, and I laid the matter before him. He wasextraordinarily loath to let Aileen peril herself, but on the other handhe could not let Malcolm suffer the penalty of the law without making aneffort on his behalf. Raasay was tied hand and foot by the suspicions ofthe government and was forced to consent to leave the matter in our hands.He made only the one stipulation, that we should go by way of Edinburghand take his Aunt Miss MacBean with us as chaperone.
We embarked on the smuggler next day for the Long Island and were landedat Stornoway. After a dreary wait of over a week at this place we tookshipping on a brig bound for Edinburgh. Along the north coast of Scotland,through the Pentland Firth, and down the east shore _The Lewis_ scudded.It seemed that we were destined to have an uneventful voyage till one daywe sighted a revenue cutter which gave chase. As we had on board _TheLewis_ a cargo of illicit rum, the brig being in the contraband trade,there was nothing for it but an incontinent flight. For some hours ourfate hung in the balance, but night coming on we slipped away in thedarkness. The Captain, however, being an exceedingly timid man for one inhis position, refused absolutely to put into the Leith Road lest hisretreat should be cut off. Instead he landed us near Wemyss Castle, somedistance up the coast, and what was worse hours before the dawn hadcleared and in a pelting rain.
I wrapped Volney's cloak around Aileen and we took the southward road,hoping to come on some village where we might find shelter. The situationmight be thought one of extreme discomfort. There were we three--Aileen,her maid, and I--sloshing along the running road in black darkness withthe dreary splashing of the rain to emphasize our forlorn condition. Overunknown paths we travelled on precarious errand. Yet I for one never tooka journey that pleased me more. The mirk night shut out all others, and afair face framed in a tartan shawl made my whole world for me. A note oftenderness not to be defined crept into our relationship. There was asweet disorder in her hair and more than once the wind whaffed it into myface. In walking our fingers touched once and again; greatly daring, mineslipped over hers, and so like children we went hand in hand. An oldromancer tells quaintly in one of his tales how Love made himself of theparty, and so it was with us that night. I found my answer at last withoutwords. While the heavens wept our hearts sang. The wine of love ranthrough me in exquisite thrills. Every simple word she spoke went to myheart like sweetest music, and every unconscious touch of her hand was acaress.
"Tired, Aileen?" I asked. "There is my arm to lean on."
"No," she said, but presently her ringers rested on my sleeve.
"'T will be daylight soon, and see! the scudding clouds are driving awaythe rain."
"Yes, Kenneth," she answered, and sighed softly.
"You will think I am a sad blunderer to bring you tramping through thenight."
"I will be thinking you are the good friend."
Too soon the grey dawn broke, for at the first glimmer my love disengagedherself from my arm. I looked shyly at her, and the glory of her youngbeauty filled me. Into her cheeks the raw morning wind had whipped thered, had flushed her like a radiant Diana. The fresh breeze had outlinedher figure clear as she struggled against it, and the billowing sail wasnot more graceful than her harmonious lines.
Out of the sea the sun rose a great ball of flaming fire.
"A good omen for the success of our journey," I cried. "Look!
"'Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.'
"The good God grant it prove so, Kenneth, for Malcolm and for all ourfriends."
After all youth has its day and will not be denied. We were on an anxiousundertaking of more than doubtful outcome, but save when we remembered tobe sober we trod the primrose path.
We presently came to a small village where we had breakfast at the inn.For long we had eaten nothing but the musty fare of the brig, and I shallnever forget with what merry daffing we enjoyed the crisp oaten cake, thebuttered scones, the marmalade, and the ham and eggs. After we had eatenAileen went to her room to snatch some hours sleep while I madearrangements for a cart to convey us on our way.
A wimpling burn ran past the end of the inn garden, and here on a rusticbench I found my comrade when I sought her some hours later. The sun wasshining on her russet-hair. Her chin was in her hands, her eyes on thegurgling brook. The memories of the night must still have been thrillingher, for she was singing softly that most exquisite of love songs "AnnieLaurie."
"'Maxwelton's braes are bonnie, Where early fa's the dew, Where me and Annie Laurie Made up the promise true.'"
Her voice trembled a little, and I took up the song.
"'Made up the promise true, And ne'er forget will I; And for bonnie Annie Laurie I'd lay me doun and dee.'"
At my first words she gave a little start, her lips parted, her head cameup prettily to attention, and though I could not see them I was ready tovow that she listened with shining eyes. Softly her breath came and went.I trod nearer as I sang.
"'Her brow is like the snaw-drift, Her throat is like the swan, She's jimp about the middle, Her waist ye weel micht span.'
"Oh, Aileen, if I might--if I only had the right! Won't you give it me,dear heart?"
In the long silence my pulse stopped, then throbbed like an aching tooth.
"I'm waiting, Aileen. It is to be yes or no?"
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br /> The shy blue eyes met mine for an instant before they flutteredgroundward. I could scarce make out the low sweet music of her voice.
"Oh, Kenneth, not now! You forget--my brother Malcolm----"
"I forget everything but this, that I love you."
In her cheeks was being fought the war of the roses, with Lancastervictorious. The long-lashed eyes came up to meet mine bravely, love lucentin them. Our glances married; in those clear Highland lochs of hers I wassunk fathoms deep.
"Truly, Kenneth?"
"From the head to the heel of you, Aileen, lass. For you I would die, andthat is all there is about it," I cried, wildly.
"Well then, take me, Kenneth! I am all yours. Of telling love there willbe many ways in the Gaelic, and I am thinking them all at once."
And this is the plain story of how the great happiness came into KennethMontagu's life, and how, though all unworthy, he won for his own thedaughter of Raasay.