CHAPTER XLVITHE JUDGMENT OF GODThe court of the Baron Bailzie of Carrick broke up in confusion. It had been arranged that we should ride all together to the north, even to Culzean, where His Majesty might have due entertainment provided for him nearer than at my lord's castle of Cassillis. Also it was upon this shoreside road that he had left the Earl of Mar and the favourite attendants with whom James the Sixth ordinarily sallied forth to the hunting.Those of the Auchendrayne and Bargany party who hated us, clamoured that the Dominie and I should be left warded in the lock-fast place of Girvan, where our enemies would soon have ta'en their will of us. But Robert Harburgh moved my lord, who went about dour and heartsick for the failure of his plans in the matter of the Mures, to have us brought on, with purpose to lodge us within the ancient strengths of Dunure.So that as I rode hand-tied at the tail of the King's retinue, I was yet near enough to have sight of Marjorie and Nell who rode before us. And this was some comfort to my heart.The way lay for miles along the seashore, which is here sandy, with a broad belt of fine hard beach whereon the horses went daintily and well, while at our left elbows the sea murmured.The King and John Mure rode first, and His Majesty constantly broke into loud mirth at some witty saying of his companion's. Level with them, but riding moodily apart, was the Earl, while James Mure the younger rode alone by himself behind these three.I groaned within me for the exaltation of our enemy and at the shortsightedness of anointed kings.'Is there a God in heaven,' I cried aloud, 'thus to make no sign, while the devil is driving all things headlong to destruction according to his own devising?'There was a God in heaven.For, quick as an echo that answers from the wood, there before us upon the sands, just where the levels had been overflowed at the last tide, lay a thing which halted the advancing cavalcade as suddenly as an army with banners. The men crowded about, and, having in the excitement forgotten us their charges, we also were permitted to look. And this is what we saw.There upon the ribbed sea sand lay the dead body of the boy William Dalrymple. I knew him at a glance, for all that so much had come and gone since that day when I played at the golf game upon the green of Maybole. He lay with his arms stretched away from his sides, his face turned over, and one cheek dented deeply into the sand. It was a pitiful sight. Yet the lad was not greatly altered—wind-tossed and wave-borne as he had been, and now brought to cross the path of the unjust at the very nick of time, by the manifest judgment and providence of God.'What means this?' said the King. 'Some poor drowned sailor boy. Let us avoid!' For of all things he loved not gruesome sights nor the colour of blood. But James Mure suddenly cried aloud at the vision, as if he had been stricken with pain. And as he did so, his father looked at him as though he would have slain him, so devilish was his glance of hate and contempt.But a woman who had come running hot-foot after the party, now rushed to the front. She gave a loud scream, ear-piercing and frantic, when she saw the tossed little body lying all abroad upon the sand.'My Willie, my ain son Willie!' she cried. For it was Meg Dalrymple. All her ignorant rudeness seemed to fade away in the presence of death, and as she lifted the poor mishandled head that had been her son's, each of us felt that she grew akin to our own mothers, widowed and bereaved. For I think that which touches us most in the grief of a widow, is not our feeling for a particular woman, but our obligation to the mother of all flesh.So when Meg Dalrymple lifted her son's head, it might have been a mourning queen with a dead kingling upon her knee.'My ain, my ain lad!' she cried. 'See, lammie, but I loved ye. Ye were the widow's ae son. Fleeter-footed than the mountain roe, mair gleg than the falcon that sits yonder on the King's wrist, ye were the hope o' thy mither's life. And they hae slain ye, killed my bonny wean, that never did harm to nae man—'She undid a kerchief from about the white, swollen neck of her son.'Kens ony man that image and superscription?' said she, pointing to an embroidered crest upon it. John Mure strode forward hastily. He had grown as pale as death.'Give it me. I will pass it to His Majesty,' he said, holding out his hand for it.But the woman leaped up fiercely.'Na,' she said; 'the butcher kens his knife; but he would only hide it in the day of trial. I will give it to my ain well-kenned lord.'And she put the napkin into the hands of the Earl of Cassillis, who looked at it with the most minute attention.'This kerchief,' said the Earl, gravely, 'has the crest and motto of John Mure of Auchendrayne.'The King looked staggered and bewildered.'Let all dismount till we try further of this thing,' he said.But John Mure would have had him go on, saying that it was yet more of the plot. But the King would not now hearken to him; for he was an obstinate man, and oftentime he would listen to no reason, though his ear was ever open enough to flattery. Besides, he thought himself to be the wisest man in all the islands and kingdoms of the world—wiser, even, than Solomon the son of David.So His Majesty commanded his inclination, and went up to the body. There was also a rope around the neck with a long end, which was embedded in the sand. With his own hand the King drew this out.He held it up.'Kens any man this length of rope?' he asked, looking about.Now, one strand of sea-cordage is like another as two peas; but this was our Solomon's way of judging—to find out the insignificant, and then pretend that it told him a mighty deal.Yet it so happened that there was a man there from out of the shoreside of Girvan. He was a coastwise sailor, and he took the rope in his hand.'This rope,' he said, turning it about every way, 'is Irish made, and has been used to tie bundles of neat hides.''And who,' again asked the King—shrewdly, as I do admit, 'who upon this coast trades with Ireland in the commodity of neat hides?''There are but myself and James Bannatyne of Chapeldonnan,' replied the man, honestly and promptly.'And this is not your rope?' said the King.'Nay,' said the man, 'I would not buy a pennyworth of Irish hemp so long as I could twine the hemp of Scotland—no, not even to hang an Irishman would I do it. This is James Bannatyne's rope!'Then said the King, 'Bring hither James of Chapeldonnan!'And they brought him. He stood forth, much feared indeed, but taking the matter dourly, like the burly ruffian he was. Nevertheless when put to the question he denied the rope, and that in spite of all threats of torture. Yet I could see that the King was greatly shaken in his opinion, and knew not what to think. For when John Mure drew near to touch his arm and as before say somewhat in his private ear, the King drew hastily away and looked at Auchendrayne's hand as though there had been pollution upon it. So I knew that his opinion was wavering. Also the poor body in the mother's arms daunted him.Suddenly he clapped his hands together and became exceedingly joyous and alert.'I have it,' he cried, 'the ordeal of touch. It is God's ordinary and manifest way of vindicating His justice. Here is the dead body of the slain. Here are all the accused and the accusers. Let it be equally done. Let all touch the body, for the revealing of the secrets of the hearts of wicked men.'Then John Mure laughed and scoffed, saying that it was but a freit, a foolish opinion, an old wives' fable.But for all his quirksome guile he had gotten this time very mightily on the wrong side of the King. For His Majesty was just mad with belief in such things as omens and miracles of God's providence. So the King shook him off and said, 'It is my royal will, that all who are tainted with the matter shall immediately touch or be held guilty.'And the saying comforted King James, being, as it were, easily pleased with his own words and plaiks.So they brought us forward from among the crowd bound as we were, and first of all I touched fearlessly the poor dead body of the lad. Yet it was with some strange feeling, though I knew well that I was wholly innocent. But yet I could not forget that something untoward might happen, and then good-bye to this fair world and all the pleasant stir of life within it.Then after me the Dominie touched—even Marjorie and Nell doing it with set faces and strange eyes.It was now the turns of the real murderers, and my heart beat little and fast to see what should happen.'Let Auchendrayne the younger touch first, being the more directly accused!' cried the King.But James Mure seemed to flame out suddenly distract, like a madman being taken to Bethlem. He cried out, 'No, no, I will not touch. I declare that I will not go near him!'And when John Mure strove to persuade him to it, he struck at him fiercely with his open hand, leaving the stead of his fingers dead white upon his father's cheek. And when they took his arm and would have forced him to it, he threw himself down headlong in the sand, foaming and crying, 'I will not touch for blood! I will not touch for blood!'But in spite of his struggling they carried him to where the body lay. And, all men standing back, they thrust his bare hand sharply upon the neck where the rope had been.And, it is true as Scripture, I that write declare (though I cannot explain) it, out from the open mouth of the lad there sprang a gout of black and oozy blood.Whereat a great cry went up and James Mure fell forward oh the sand as one suddenly stricken dead. All crowded forward to see, crying with one voice, 'The Judgment of God! The Judgment of God!'And I shouted too, for I had seen the vindication of justice upon the murderer. The blood of Abel had cried out of the waste sea sand. The mark of God was on the guilty.Then suddenly in the midst of the push I heard a stirring and a shouting.'Stop him! stop him!' they cried.I looked about, and lo! there, sitting erect upon his horse and riding like fire among heather, was John Mure. He had stolen away while all eyes were on the marvel. He had passed unregarded through the press, and now he rode for his life southward along the shore.I gave one mighty twist to the manacles on my wrists, and whether those that set them had been kindly, being of my own name and clan, or whether the gyves were weak, I cannot tell. At all events, my hands were free, and so, with never a weapon in my possession, I leaped on a horse—the same, indeed, which the King had been riding—and set it to the gallop after the man whose death was my life.It was the maddest, foolishest venture, for doubtless my enemy was well armed. But I seemed to see my love, and all the endowment of grace and favour I was to receive with her, vanishing away with every stride of John Mure's horse. Besides, there was a King and an Earl looking on; so upon the King's horse I settled down to a long chase.I was already far forward ere behind me I heard the clatter of mounting men, the crying to restive horses to stand still, and the other accompaniments of a cavalcade leaping hastily into the saddle. But when I looked at John Mure upon his fleet steed, and saw that I upon the King's horse but scarcely held mine own, I knew that the stopping of the murderer must be work of mine, if it were to be done at all. So I resolved to chance it, in spite of whatever armoury of weapons he might carry.But first I cleared my feet of the great stirrups which the King used, so that if it came to the bitter pinch, and I was stricken with a bullet or pierced with steel, I should not be dragged helpless along the ground with my foot in the iron, as once or twice I had seen happen in battle.And that, though an easily memorable, is, I can bear witness, not a bonny sight.My charger stretched away as though he had been a beagle running conies of the down into their holes. But John Mure's horse went every whit as fast. I saw well that he made for the deep, trackless spaces of Killochan wood. The oak trees that grew along its edge stretched out their arms to hide him; the birken shaw waved all its green boughs with a promise of security. I shortened my grip upon the stout golden-crowned staff which the King carried at the pommel of his saddle.Yet as John Mure drave madly towards the wood, and sometimes looked over his shoulder to see how I came on, I was overjoyed to notice a wide ditch before him which he must needs overleap—and at that business, if at no other, I thought to beat him, being slim and of half his weight.So I kept my horse to the right upon better ground, though it took me a little out of the straight course for the wood. His horse at the first refused the leap, and I counted upon him as mine. But I counted too soon, for he went down the bankside a short way to an easier place, where there was a landward man's bridge of trees and sods. Here he easily walked his horse across, and, having mounted the bank, he waved his hand at me and set off again toward the wood.But now while he had an uneven country to overpass I had only the green fields, rich in old pasture and undulating like the waves of an oily tide when the sea is deep, and there is no break of the water. He was at the very edge of the wood before I came upon his flank. Then I gave a loud shout as I set my horse to his speed and circled about to head him off. But John Mure, though an old man, only settled himself firmer in his saddle, and with his sword in his hand rode soldierly and straight at the wood, as though I had not been in front of him at all.It was wisely enough done, for his heavier beast took mine upon the shoulder and almost rolled me in the dust. He came upon me, not front to front as a rider meets his foe in the lists, but, as it were stem to side, like two boats that meet upon converging tacks.Yet I managed to avoid him, being light and supple, though he leaned far over and struck savagely at me as he passed. Again at the third shock he had almost overridden me and made me die the death. But I had not practised horsemanship and the art of fighting in the saddle so long for nothing. Indeed, on all the seaboard of Ayr there was no one that could compare with me in these things. Therefore, it was easy for me, by dint of my quickness and skill, to swerve off to the right and receive the sword stroke in my cloak, which I carried twisted about my left arm.Then keeping still between the wood and John Mure, I met him this time face to face, with my eyes watching the direction of his eye and the crook of his elbow, that I might know where he meant to strike. For a good sworder knows the enemy's intent, and his blade meets it long ere thought can pass into action.So it was no second-sight which told me that he meant to slash me across the thigh when he came a-nigh me. I knew it or ever his blade was raised. So that when he struck I was ready for him and measured his sword, proving my distance as it had been upon parade. And as the blade whistled by me, I judged that it was my turn, and struck him with all the force I could muster a crashing blow upon the face with the heavy butt of the King's stave, which stunned and unsettled him so that he pitched forward upon his horse, yet not so as to lose his seat.Nevertheless, owing to the swing of my arm, the stroke fell also partly upon his horse's back, which affrighted the beast and set him harder than ever to the running. So that I was passed ere I knew it, and the wood was won. But I was not thirty yards behind him, and looked to make the capture ere we reached the further side. And but for a foul trick I should have done it. It so happens that there is a little hill in the woods of Killochan, and I, seeing that John Mure was riding about one side, took round the other, thinking that I had the shorter line of it.But he, so soon as he saw me make round the corner, turned his horse into its own hoof-marks and sped away back again—as it had been to meet them that pursued, but at the same time bearing enough to the south to clear them easily. So that when I came round the hill I saw no quarry, and only heard the boughs crashing in his wake.Nevertheless, without the loss of a moment, I took the line of his retreat (as I thought), yet not so correctly but that when I issued forth from the wood I saw him nigh half a mile in front. Again he waved a contumelious hand which made me so fiercely angry that I tightened my waist-belt, and vowed to go no more to sunny Culzean if I took not back the head and hands of John Mure at my saddlebow.So, with set and determined brow, I rode ever forward. It was the cast of the die for me, for Nell herself, our life together, and our green pastures and lavender-scented napery cupboards were all to come out of the catching of this enemy of our house. It is small wonder therefore that I was passing keen upon the matter.Yet, in spite of my endeavours, I gained but little. And it was already greying to the twilight when I came to a place by the seashore, waste and solitary, where there were but few houses about. I had seen John Mure ride in thitherwards. And so I followed him full tilt, reckless of danger, being weary-heart with the ill-fortune of my riding and quest.But as I entered the narrows of the pass, a stone flew from an ambuscade. I felt a hot, stunning blow upon the head, and with the pain I remember laying hold of my horse's mane and gripping tight with the hand on which a broken manacle still jangled. Something warm flowed over my brow, and suddenly I saw everything red, as though I had been looking through the stained glass of some ancient kirk—red flowers, red grass, red sand, and red sea.That was all I saw, and I do not remember even falling to the ground.CHAPTER XLVIITHE PLACE OF THE LEGION OF DEVILSWhen I woke it was exceedingly dark, but a darkness with shooting lights and hideous sounds. At the first start I thought that I was dead and in the place of torment. And when I grew a little more awake, I wished to God that I had been. For all about were swart naked men and harpy-clawed women dancing round me, while on a cask or keg at my head sat John Mure himself, wrapped in his cloak and regarding me with gloating, baleful, bloodshot eyes.Then I knew that I was lost indeed. For by the flickering light of a dying fire of driftwood I could see that I was again in the cave of Sawny Bean, in the same wide hall with the strange narrow hams a-swing on the roof, the tubs of salt meat festering under the eaves, and the wild savage crew dancing about me.What wonder that my heart fainted within me to be thus left alone in that den of hideous things, and especially to think of the free birds going to their beds on the cliffs above me and the fishing solan geese circling and balancing home to the lonely rock of Ailsa.'Ha, Sir Launcelot Kennedy,' said a mocking voice, as the deafening turmoil quieted a little, 'you are near your honours now—that is, if there be such bauble dignities either in heaven or hell. The Treasure of Kelwood in hand, John Mure's life out of hand—and there on the shelf (as it were) are your broad acres and your bonny lady!'I was silent, for I knew that nothing could avail me now. It was useless to waste words.'But ere all that comes to pass,' he went on, 'there are sundry little formalities to be gone through.—Oh, we are right dainty folk here in Sawny Bean's mansion. You shall be kept warm and cherished tenderly. There are here twenty sonsier queans than the one whose heart you desire. Warmly shall they welcome, sweetly shall they cherish handsome Sir Launcelot. Their embracements shall sting you more than all sweethearting raptures.'Again he pauses to observe the effect of his words.'You that so lately held me in chase, like a steer that has escaped from the shambles. Now you yourself are in the thills. You that have crossed me a thousand times in my plans since that frore night in Sir Thomas Nesbitt's yard in Maybole, you shall now be crossed in a new fashion. You that wagged tongue so merrily at another's expense, you shall see your tongue wag upon the redhot brander to an unkenned tune.'You that have ridden so fast and so far, you shall ride your last ride—ride slowly, very slowly,' cried the fiend in my ear, 'for I shall hoard every drop of your blood as John of Cassillis hoards his gold rose nobles. I shall husband every minute of your life, as though they were the hours of young bridal content.'Ye have bruised my old face indeed with your oaken staff, but I will cherish yours, that is youthful and blooming. Tenderly shall we take off the coverture of hide, the tegument of beauty. Sawny Bean has famous skill in such surgery. Gently will we lay you down in the swarming nest of the patient ant. We have read how Scripture bids the sluggard go to the ant, for if that makes him not lively, nothing will. I have ofttimes commented on the passage at family worship. And I must see that the young and headstrong, like you, my Lord Launcelot, give heed to that which is commanded.'But in spite of all his terrible threatenings, I bode still and answered him never a word. They laid logs of driftwood upon the fire, till the whole inside of the cave grew bright and clear; and all the monstrous deformity of the women and the cruel hideousness of the men were made apparent as in broad daylight. Some of them were painted and stained like demons, and danced and leaped through the fire like them, too. For such monsters have not been heard of, much less seen, in the history of any country as were Sawny Bean and his crew in the cave upon the seashore of Bennanbrack.'Bring me a knife,' cried John Mure from where he sat, for he appeared like a chief devil among a company of gibbering lubber fiends. He had still his grey cloak about him. His plumed hat was upon his head, and he looked, save for the eyes of him in which the fires of hell burned, a civil, respectable, well-put-on man of means and substance. As, indeed, save for his evil heart he might have been, for he came of as good a family as the Earl of Cassillis, or, as it might be, as I myself, Launcelot Kennedy of Kirrieoch.So when Auchendrayne asked for a knife, Sawny Bean himself, the ruffian kemper, low-browed, buck-toothed, and inhuman, brought it to him with a grin. He made as if he would have set it in me to the hilt. But John Mure stayed him.'Bide,' he said, 'not so fast. There is long and sweet pleasuring to come before that—such slow, relishing delight, such covetous mouseplay of the brindled cat, such luxurious tiger-licking of the delicate skin till it be raw, such well-conceited dainty torments as when one would bite his love and be glad of it. He shall taste them all, this frolic squire of errant-dames, this gamesome player upon pipes, this curious handler of quaint love tunes. Ere we pluck the red rose of his life, he shall sate himself with new delicious experience—rarer than the handling of many maidens' tresses.'I was moved to speak to him.'I ask not mercy,' said I, 'for I own that I would have killed you if I could. But as you are a valiant man, give me a sword and let me make a stand for it against you all, that as I have lived so I may also die fighting.'But he mocked me, hurrying on in his heady turmoil of words.'"If I be a man," you say—who said that I was a man? Do I act as other men? Is my knowledge like that of other men? Do I company with other men? Call you that a man?' (He pointed to Sawny Bean, who for wantonness sat on an upturned tub, striking with a keen-edged knife at the legs of all that came by for mere delight of blood, storming at them meantime with horrid imprecations to approach nearer and be flicked.) 'Or call you these men?' (He showed me some of the younger cannibal race gnawing like kennelled dogs at horrid bones.) 'Nay, my dainty wanton, you shall not enter Hell through the brave brattle of warring blades, nor yet handling your rapier like a morris-dancer. But as the blood drains to the white from the stricken calf, so shall they whiten your flesh for the tooth, and so reluctantly shall your life drip from you drop by drop.'And I declare that this scornful fiend telling me of tortures in choice words made me scunner more than the prick of the knife. For the abhorred invention quickened the imagination and set the nerves agate.So that I was honestly glad when he took knife in hand—a shoemaker's curved blade with a keen cutting edge.'Strip him naked!' he cried. And very cheerfully so they did, smiting me the meantime with the broad of their hand.Then John Mure leaned over me delicately, and made as though he would have traced with his knife the jointing of my limbs, saying, 'Thus and thus shall the she-tribe dismember your body when the torture of the ant's nest is ended.' And again 'Here is toothsome eating, Sawny Bean, thou chief lover of dainty vivers.'Then, as the evil man went on with his pitiless jestings, his grey cloak began to waver before me, his face to glow like fire, and I fainted or dwamed away till the sharp knife pricked me into consciousness again.Yet Auchendrayne overdid his threatening, for the too sharp relish of the words issued in tranced dulness ere the matter came to action. And of torture there was none that I can now remember or bear the mark of—save only the slight scores of the knife which he made when he showed me where they would joint and haggle my body.Indeed, I mind no more till I came to myself, lying on my back, with the cave all empty save for John Mure—who sat, as before, with his hand to his ear listening.But there sounded a great and furious uproar down by the cave mouth, the deep baying of bloodhounds, the fierce cry of many voices striving for mastery, and above all the shrieks of the smitten.Surely, I thought, there is a battle fierce and fell at the cave's mouth. John Mure sat and listened for a long space, and presently he looked over at me.'I will even make sure of him, come what may,' he said.And with that he took the knife and came nearer to smite me in the breast, and I lay as one dead already, waiting for the stroke.But even in that moment as I held my breath a ravening hound darted within the cave, overleaped the embers of the fire, and pinned the grey-haired murderer to the earth by the throat. He struck out desperately, but the dog held him fast. Another and another came in, till, as it seemed, he was in danger of being torn to pieces of dogs.But me they minded not at all, for (as I say) I lay as one dead.* * * * *And this is the story of the chase as Nell told it to me when all was over.As they of the King's company looked from the shore towards the south, there in the distance was John Mure on his horse disappearing into the wood, and I (as it seemed) at his very heels. Both of us were leaning far forward, like men that run a race. And because she knew that I carried no equipment with me, Nell leaped upon a horse with a sword laid before her crosswise on the saddle.Whereupon I turned to Nell and called her the bravest maid in broad Scotland, with other names as I could mind them. But she set her head aside, and would content me nothing (though I was minded for kindness), saying only, 'If you do not desire to hear the tale, then I am saved the fash of telling it. 'Tis no time for fooling,' said she, 'when I am speaking of the saving of your life.''Nell,' said I (for I was nettled at her indifference), 'thou art an unseasoned lass, skilless in love's mysteries.''I want none of Kate Allison's love-skilling at second hand,' said Nell, harking back like a pretty shrew on her former taunts. 'Since ye are so wise, unriddle me the manner of your saving from the cave of Sawny Bean, and I am content to yield me to your teaching in the mysteries.'Yet even with this fair promise I could not, but desired her instead to continue her tale-telling.'Well,' said she, 'Robert Harburgh it was who, next after me, took horse—and not far behind either. For he had but to disentangle the bridle from his arm, while I had to beguile another to lend me his horse.'So, in a little, we were all after you, and we took the wood in the very place you entered. But naught could we find save the trail of you all confused among the trees. Then what a chasing hither and thither there followed. Even the King searched for you like any common man, and puffed and blew upon his purple cheeks like the Dominie on his pipes. And he that had been our companion, this same Dominie, went about everywhere, seeking and crying each time that he came near to me, "Reckless loon, reckless loon, well he deserves to be unbreeched and soundly paid for this hardiness."'Then we utterly lost you, and I believe they would have given up the search. But I minded me of the dogs that James of Chapeldonnan keeps for his own purposes, which on my way to Ailsa I had seen his wife feed. So I told the Earl John of them, and he had James Bannatyne brought, and bade him bring them to set on the trail, promising him his life if the matter were brought to a good issue.'And so Robert Harburgh and a few swords were sent to Chapeldonnan with James Bannatyne—with his life upon it if he played them false, and Robert Harburgh's sword near his ribs each time that he faltered or failed to remember. And the good wife, seeing her man in such deadly case, came back herself to plead with the King for him.'So the Chapeldonnan pack was laid on the trail, and fine well-hungered bloodhounds they were. But so soon as I heard the first deep bay, when, with noses on the ground, they took the line of the shore, it went to my heart that since you were the last to enter the wood the dogs would first seize you. So I cried a word to Robert Harburgh, and we two that loved you spurred horses and sped on well-nigh level with the dogs.'And through all the windings and wimplings of your path we followed till we came to the shore, where, together with the King's oaken staff which had been in your hand, we found the place all trampled with naked feet and stains of blood. So we traced you across the shore grass to the sand and over the sand into the sea, with a company of bare feet and many stains of blood.'Then for a moment I knew not what to think. But Marjorie, my sister, cried out, "It is the vile wretches of Sawny Bean's band who have taken him to the Cave of Death!"'Then I remembered that the entrance to the cavern was among the rocks, and yet because of the gladness that was in our hearts when we issued forth, I had taken no very great pains to mind the exact place. Nor was the Dominie aught the wiser. For he had been wholly intent on blowing upon his pipes. But Marjorie minded better than any of us the cleave in the rocks, and showed us to a nearness where the cave entrance was. But the tide had flowed in, and we had perforce to wait and calm our impatience as best we might till it went back again, ere we could follow into the cave mouth. But by this time it was dark, so that the men-at-arms had to find rosin torches and set them alight.'Thus with the flambeaux blazing and the smoke wavering red overhead we took our way along the wet edge of the sea. But the tide had washed away all traces of blood and feet. Up and down the coast we wandered trying every covert. And yet for our lives we could not hit upon the right cave's entrance. The dogs ran yelping and nosing here and there, but for long nothing came of it.'Then Earl John and the King himself threatened James Bannatyne to reveal the place. But he denied that he had any knowledge of the cave. And whether he spoke truth or no I cannot say. But his wife went to the King and holding his bridle rein, she said, "Well do I ken, your Majesty, that my man's life is forfeit, but he is my husband. And at least, so far as it concerns him and me, betwixt barn-door and bed-stock I can rule him as a wife should. Gin I persuade him to lead you to the spot, will ye on your word, give me my ain man's life?"'So the King promised, though Earl John hung a little on the form of the words. Then went the goodwife of Chapeldonnan to her husband. And what she said to him I know not, for they spake privily and apart. But though at first he shook his head and denied, as I could see, that he had any knowledge of the Cave of Death, yet in a little while he took some other thought and ran forward to grip one of the dogs.'Then went James Bannatyne on ahead, with all of us hotfoot after him, with the torches and the swords.''And you also, Nell,' said I,' 'were you lurking with the men-at-arms, and which had you, a sword or a torch?''I had both,' said Nell Kennedy, shortly. And went on with her tale as if she had been speaking of milking-stools.'James Bannatyne took the dog into all the wide cave mouths and made him smell the walls and floor above the tide mark, talking to the brute all the time and encouraging him. But for a long time it was still in vain.'At last the other dog which had been left to itself, bayed out suddenly from among the rocks, where it had found a dark and dismal archway with a wide pool of water in it, which we had passed time and again without suspicion. And at the entrance to this place we found the second hound, with tail erected, baying up the cave mouth from the edge of the pool.'Then so soon as James Bannatyne brought in his well-taught dog, it began to smell hither and thither with erected ears and bristling hair. Presently it swam away into the darkness. And because the men hesitated to go after the beast, I took the water to show them the way.'Hearing which, I had made my acknowledgments.But Nell said, 'No, no; hear my tale first.''Then with me there came Robert Harburgh, and after him the Earl and all his company with their torches. The pool proved shallow, and after many turns and windings we came to a wide place—indeed, to the same beach with sand and dripping fingers of stone where we had first found ourselves. And here also we passed the remains of our boat, for it was to this point that we had rowed that night when we took refuge in the lion's den. The savages had broken most of it up for firewood, yet enough remained so that I knew it again.'But ere the men-at-arms had time to gather behind us, a host of wild creatures armed with stones, knives, and sheath-whittles burst upon us, yelling like demons of the pit. Women also there were, some half clad and some wholly without cleading. And then and there was a fight such as you, Launce, love to tell about, but I have no skill in. For the men-at-arms shot, and we that had but swords struck, while the wild folk shouted and the savage women bit and tore with their nails till the cavern was full of confused noise and the red reek of burning torches. But ever as the slain rolled among our feet they gripped to pull us down, so that in the intervals of his fighting Robert Harburgh went hither and thither "making siccar," as he said, with a coup de grace for each poor clawing wretch.'And in the narrow doorway through which you found the way, stood the chief himself, with his eyes fiery-red, and his hair about his face. He gripped a mighty axe in his hand, and with it he stood ready to cleave all that came against him. Even the men hesitated at his fearsome aspect. And it was small wonder. But I knew that there was no other way to the innermost cave, so I cried to them to overpass the rabble and drive forward at all hazards.'How it came about I know not, but a moment after I found myself opposite to Sawny Bean himself and engaging him with your sword—just for all the world as if it had been in the armoire room of Culzean on a rainy day, and you again teaching me the fence of blade against Lochaber axe. But though I had not wholly forgotten my skill, doubtless the giant had soon made an end of me, for he struck fiercely every way. But sudden as the heathcat springs on the hill, the little Dominie leaped upon him and drove his sword into his heart. So that Sawny Bean fell with Dominie Mure upon his breast. Then because he was not able to pull out his sword again, being too close, the Dominie gripped his dagger and struck again and again, panting. And between each blow he cried out the name of a lass—"Mary Torrance! Mary Torrance!" he said.'Then it was that the hounds over-leaped the two of them struggling there in the arch and sprang on, and after them came Robert Harburgh and I. We two first entered the murky place of death. The dogs were mouthing and gripping the Grey Man. But you lay naked upon the sand as it had been dead.'This was the matter of Nell's tale, and I will now in turn take up mine own part in it, from the time at which the dogs gripped my remorseless enemy, and as it had been, the life went out from me.CHAPTER XLVI1ITHE FINDING OF THE TREASURE OF KELWOODWhen I came to myself the cave was filled with armed men and the confused clamour of voices. The torches spluttered and reeked, and I could feel that my naked body was covered with a woman's cloak wrapped well about me. Someone was binding up my head; and as she examined to see if all had been rightly done, I saw that it was Nell Kennedy. So I called her softly by her name.But she bade me not try to rise; and looked again to my head to see that it had no serious wound.Then came John the Earl and asked how I did. Whereupon, minding, as is my wont, to have old Time by the forelock, I spoke of his promise.'Here,' I said, 'is the murderer John Mure. Here is the gang of monsters, and now I will put you in the way of obtaining the Treasure of Kelwood, if you will fulfil the promise which you made to me.''What was that?' he said shortly. For though Earl John liked promising well enough, he was not so fond of performing if it cost him aught, as in this case it was like to do.'My sweetheart here, my knighthood, and a suitable down-sitting of land,' said I, knowing that it was now or never with me.Then he demurred a little, and hesitated, so that for a moment I thought all was lost.'Your sweetheart you shall have,' he said at last, 'but the others are not in my gift—save a holding of land, perhaps, which I can let you for a trifling return when it falls vacant.'And so rejoiced was I to think of getting my lass that I might have consented to this; but Nell was behind me, and upon pretence of arranging a knot of the bandage upon my forehead, she whispered in my ear, 'Threat him with telling the King about the treasure.'So, knowing her wisdom, I obeyed her.'Well then, Earl John,' said I, 'if that be so, and a knighthood and suitable heritages are not in your power to bestow, here at hand is the King. Give me leave to speak with him. He is fond of treasure, and I can put a brave one under his hand!''Hush!' said the Earl, looking about him with apprehension. For the King was yet in the place with Mar and Lennox, ordering the taking down and burying of the strange, white, narrow-shaped hams, and the other things that turned the gay, squeamish folk that came with him pale and sick only to look upon them.'Hush!' he said again, 'above all things beware what you say to the King. Show the Kelwood treasure to myself alone, and you shall have Barrhill—ay, and all Minnochside from the Rowan-tree to the forks of Trool, and I will even speak to the King about the knighting!''Will your lordship please to declare it before witnesses,' said I, Nell prompting me as before, for my head was dazed; but hers was singularly clear.So he called to him certain honourable men of his name, and promised faithfully. 'Are you content?' said he.So I said, 'Nelly, show them the treasure. Here is the key!'And she rose and took them to the box—which, by the blessing of God remained still where we had left it in the recess—and she fitted the key in the lock, and it turned without a sound. And there the Earl bathed his hands in the set jewels, the loose stones of price, and the coined, golden money, plashing them through his fingers with a sound like a spout of water, till for fear of the King, I advised him to close it again.'It is worth the bargain,' said he, 'though I am sorry to have promised away fair Minnochside. I trow it was woman's wit that guided you in the asking, and not that thick-bandaged head-piece of thine, Launcelot Kennedy.'But I answered not, knowing how to leave well alone when a man is pleased with himself. So the Earl placed Robert Harburgh to guard the chest, and to lie discreetly concerning it if any of the King's men should come near, saying that it was but some foulness appropriate to the den.But none came asking, and thus was the Treasure of Kelwood conquest for ever to the family of Cassillis.As for Sawny Bean's monstrous brood, is it not recorded how they were carried through the country to Edinburgh, and as how they went the folk flocked in from leagues away to see and execrate them. They were hurried straight to the sands of Leith, where, without process of trial or pleading, and in the manner prescribed for such fiends, they were executed out of hand as enemies to the human race in general.Thus, mainly through my instrumentality, was the country rid of a monstrous foul blot such as no land since the flood has ever been cursed with. Though I deny not that Dominie Mure and Nell Kennedy helped well according to their possibles, yet the most part of the credit was rightly given to me, who had twice adventured my life within the Cave of Death—though, as I admit, on both occasions against my will.
CHAPTER XLVI
THE JUDGMENT OF GOD
The court of the Baron Bailzie of Carrick broke up in confusion. It had been arranged that we should ride all together to the north, even to Culzean, where His Majesty might have due entertainment provided for him nearer than at my lord's castle of Cassillis. Also it was upon this shoreside road that he had left the Earl of Mar and the favourite attendants with whom James the Sixth ordinarily sallied forth to the hunting.
Those of the Auchendrayne and Bargany party who hated us, clamoured that the Dominie and I should be left warded in the lock-fast place of Girvan, where our enemies would soon have ta'en their will of us. But Robert Harburgh moved my lord, who went about dour and heartsick for the failure of his plans in the matter of the Mures, to have us brought on, with purpose to lodge us within the ancient strengths of Dunure.
So that as I rode hand-tied at the tail of the King's retinue, I was yet near enough to have sight of Marjorie and Nell who rode before us. And this was some comfort to my heart.
The way lay for miles along the seashore, which is here sandy, with a broad belt of fine hard beach whereon the horses went daintily and well, while at our left elbows the sea murmured.
The King and John Mure rode first, and His Majesty constantly broke into loud mirth at some witty saying of his companion's. Level with them, but riding moodily apart, was the Earl, while James Mure the younger rode alone by himself behind these three.
I groaned within me for the exaltation of our enemy and at the shortsightedness of anointed kings.
'Is there a God in heaven,' I cried aloud, 'thus to make no sign, while the devil is driving all things headlong to destruction according to his own devising?'
There was a God in heaven.
For, quick as an echo that answers from the wood, there before us upon the sands, just where the levels had been overflowed at the last tide, lay a thing which halted the advancing cavalcade as suddenly as an army with banners. The men crowded about, and, having in the excitement forgotten us their charges, we also were permitted to look. And this is what we saw.
There upon the ribbed sea sand lay the dead body of the boy William Dalrymple. I knew him at a glance, for all that so much had come and gone since that day when I played at the golf game upon the green of Maybole. He lay with his arms stretched away from his sides, his face turned over, and one cheek dented deeply into the sand. It was a pitiful sight. Yet the lad was not greatly altered—wind-tossed and wave-borne as he had been, and now brought to cross the path of the unjust at the very nick of time, by the manifest judgment and providence of God.
'What means this?' said the King. 'Some poor drowned sailor boy. Let us avoid!' For of all things he loved not gruesome sights nor the colour of blood. But James Mure suddenly cried aloud at the vision, as if he had been stricken with pain. And as he did so, his father looked at him as though he would have slain him, so devilish was his glance of hate and contempt.
But a woman who had come running hot-foot after the party, now rushed to the front. She gave a loud scream, ear-piercing and frantic, when she saw the tossed little body lying all abroad upon the sand.
'My Willie, my ain son Willie!' she cried. For it was Meg Dalrymple. All her ignorant rudeness seemed to fade away in the presence of death, and as she lifted the poor mishandled head that had been her son's, each of us felt that she grew akin to our own mothers, widowed and bereaved. For I think that which touches us most in the grief of a widow, is not our feeling for a particular woman, but our obligation to the mother of all flesh.
So when Meg Dalrymple lifted her son's head, it might have been a mourning queen with a dead kingling upon her knee.
'My ain, my ain lad!' she cried. 'See, lammie, but I loved ye. Ye were the widow's ae son. Fleeter-footed than the mountain roe, mair gleg than the falcon that sits yonder on the King's wrist, ye were the hope o' thy mither's life. And they hae slain ye, killed my bonny wean, that never did harm to nae man—'
She undid a kerchief from about the white, swollen neck of her son.
'Kens ony man that image and superscription?' said she, pointing to an embroidered crest upon it. John Mure strode forward hastily. He had grown as pale as death.
'Give it me. I will pass it to His Majesty,' he said, holding out his hand for it.
But the woman leaped up fiercely.
'Na,' she said; 'the butcher kens his knife; but he would only hide it in the day of trial. I will give it to my ain well-kenned lord.'
And she put the napkin into the hands of the Earl of Cassillis, who looked at it with the most minute attention.
'This kerchief,' said the Earl, gravely, 'has the crest and motto of John Mure of Auchendrayne.'
The King looked staggered and bewildered.
'Let all dismount till we try further of this thing,' he said.
But John Mure would have had him go on, saying that it was yet more of the plot. But the King would not now hearken to him; for he was an obstinate man, and oftentime he would listen to no reason, though his ear was ever open enough to flattery. Besides, he thought himself to be the wisest man in all the islands and kingdoms of the world—wiser, even, than Solomon the son of David.
So His Majesty commanded his inclination, and went up to the body. There was also a rope around the neck with a long end, which was embedded in the sand. With his own hand the King drew this out.
He held it up.
'Kens any man this length of rope?' he asked, looking about.
Now, one strand of sea-cordage is like another as two peas; but this was our Solomon's way of judging—to find out the insignificant, and then pretend that it told him a mighty deal.
Yet it so happened that there was a man there from out of the shoreside of Girvan. He was a coastwise sailor, and he took the rope in his hand.
'This rope,' he said, turning it about every way, 'is Irish made, and has been used to tie bundles of neat hides.'
'And who,' again asked the King—shrewdly, as I do admit, 'who upon this coast trades with Ireland in the commodity of neat hides?'
'There are but myself and James Bannatyne of Chapeldonnan,' replied the man, honestly and promptly.
'And this is not your rope?' said the King.
'Nay,' said the man, 'I would not buy a pennyworth of Irish hemp so long as I could twine the hemp of Scotland—no, not even to hang an Irishman would I do it. This is James Bannatyne's rope!'
Then said the King, 'Bring hither James of Chapeldonnan!'
And they brought him. He stood forth, much feared indeed, but taking the matter dourly, like the burly ruffian he was. Nevertheless when put to the question he denied the rope, and that in spite of all threats of torture. Yet I could see that the King was greatly shaken in his opinion, and knew not what to think. For when John Mure drew near to touch his arm and as before say somewhat in his private ear, the King drew hastily away and looked at Auchendrayne's hand as though there had been pollution upon it. So I knew that his opinion was wavering. Also the poor body in the mother's arms daunted him.
Suddenly he clapped his hands together and became exceedingly joyous and alert.
'I have it,' he cried, 'the ordeal of touch. It is God's ordinary and manifest way of vindicating His justice. Here is the dead body of the slain. Here are all the accused and the accusers. Let it be equally done. Let all touch the body, for the revealing of the secrets of the hearts of wicked men.'
Then John Mure laughed and scoffed, saying that it was but a freit, a foolish opinion, an old wives' fable.
But for all his quirksome guile he had gotten this time very mightily on the wrong side of the King. For His Majesty was just mad with belief in such things as omens and miracles of God's providence. So the King shook him off and said, 'It is my royal will, that all who are tainted with the matter shall immediately touch or be held guilty.'
And the saying comforted King James, being, as it were, easily pleased with his own words and plaiks.
So they brought us forward from among the crowd bound as we were, and first of all I touched fearlessly the poor dead body of the lad. Yet it was with some strange feeling, though I knew well that I was wholly innocent. But yet I could not forget that something untoward might happen, and then good-bye to this fair world and all the pleasant stir of life within it.
Then after me the Dominie touched—even Marjorie and Nell doing it with set faces and strange eyes.
It was now the turns of the real murderers, and my heart beat little and fast to see what should happen.
'Let Auchendrayne the younger touch first, being the more directly accused!' cried the King.
But James Mure seemed to flame out suddenly distract, like a madman being taken to Bethlem. He cried out, 'No, no, I will not touch. I declare that I will not go near him!'
And when John Mure strove to persuade him to it, he struck at him fiercely with his open hand, leaving the stead of his fingers dead white upon his father's cheek. And when they took his arm and would have forced him to it, he threw himself down headlong in the sand, foaming and crying, 'I will not touch for blood! I will not touch for blood!'
But in spite of his struggling they carried him to where the body lay. And, all men standing back, they thrust his bare hand sharply upon the neck where the rope had been.
And, it is true as Scripture, I that write declare (though I cannot explain) it, out from the open mouth of the lad there sprang a gout of black and oozy blood.
Whereat a great cry went up and James Mure fell forward oh the sand as one suddenly stricken dead. All crowded forward to see, crying with one voice, 'The Judgment of God! The Judgment of God!'
And I shouted too, for I had seen the vindication of justice upon the murderer. The blood of Abel had cried out of the waste sea sand. The mark of God was on the guilty.
Then suddenly in the midst of the push I heard a stirring and a shouting.
'Stop him! stop him!' they cried.
I looked about, and lo! there, sitting erect upon his horse and riding like fire among heather, was John Mure. He had stolen away while all eyes were on the marvel. He had passed unregarded through the press, and now he rode for his life southward along the shore.
I gave one mighty twist to the manacles on my wrists, and whether those that set them had been kindly, being of my own name and clan, or whether the gyves were weak, I cannot tell. At all events, my hands were free, and so, with never a weapon in my possession, I leaped on a horse—the same, indeed, which the King had been riding—and set it to the gallop after the man whose death was my life.
It was the maddest, foolishest venture, for doubtless my enemy was well armed. But I seemed to see my love, and all the endowment of grace and favour I was to receive with her, vanishing away with every stride of John Mure's horse. Besides, there was a King and an Earl looking on; so upon the King's horse I settled down to a long chase.
I was already far forward ere behind me I heard the clatter of mounting men, the crying to restive horses to stand still, and the other accompaniments of a cavalcade leaping hastily into the saddle. But when I looked at John Mure upon his fleet steed, and saw that I upon the King's horse but scarcely held mine own, I knew that the stopping of the murderer must be work of mine, if it were to be done at all. So I resolved to chance it, in spite of whatever armoury of weapons he might carry.
But first I cleared my feet of the great stirrups which the King used, so that if it came to the bitter pinch, and I was stricken with a bullet or pierced with steel, I should not be dragged helpless along the ground with my foot in the iron, as once or twice I had seen happen in battle.
And that, though an easily memorable, is, I can bear witness, not a bonny sight.
My charger stretched away as though he had been a beagle running conies of the down into their holes. But John Mure's horse went every whit as fast. I saw well that he made for the deep, trackless spaces of Killochan wood. The oak trees that grew along its edge stretched out their arms to hide him; the birken shaw waved all its green boughs with a promise of security. I shortened my grip upon the stout golden-crowned staff which the King carried at the pommel of his saddle.
Yet as John Mure drave madly towards the wood, and sometimes looked over his shoulder to see how I came on, I was overjoyed to notice a wide ditch before him which he must needs overleap—and at that business, if at no other, I thought to beat him, being slim and of half his weight.
So I kept my horse to the right upon better ground, though it took me a little out of the straight course for the wood. His horse at the first refused the leap, and I counted upon him as mine. But I counted too soon, for he went down the bankside a short way to an easier place, where there was a landward man's bridge of trees and sods. Here he easily walked his horse across, and, having mounted the bank, he waved his hand at me and set off again toward the wood.
But now while he had an uneven country to overpass I had only the green fields, rich in old pasture and undulating like the waves of an oily tide when the sea is deep, and there is no break of the water. He was at the very edge of the wood before I came upon his flank. Then I gave a loud shout as I set my horse to his speed and circled about to head him off. But John Mure, though an old man, only settled himself firmer in his saddle, and with his sword in his hand rode soldierly and straight at the wood, as though I had not been in front of him at all.
It was wisely enough done, for his heavier beast took mine upon the shoulder and almost rolled me in the dust. He came upon me, not front to front as a rider meets his foe in the lists, but, as it were stem to side, like two boats that meet upon converging tacks.
Yet I managed to avoid him, being light and supple, though he leaned far over and struck savagely at me as he passed. Again at the third shock he had almost overridden me and made me die the death. But I had not practised horsemanship and the art of fighting in the saddle so long for nothing. Indeed, on all the seaboard of Ayr there was no one that could compare with me in these things. Therefore, it was easy for me, by dint of my quickness and skill, to swerve off to the right and receive the sword stroke in my cloak, which I carried twisted about my left arm.
Then keeping still between the wood and John Mure, I met him this time face to face, with my eyes watching the direction of his eye and the crook of his elbow, that I might know where he meant to strike. For a good sworder knows the enemy's intent, and his blade meets it long ere thought can pass into action.
So it was no second-sight which told me that he meant to slash me across the thigh when he came a-nigh me. I knew it or ever his blade was raised. So that when he struck I was ready for him and measured his sword, proving my distance as it had been upon parade. And as the blade whistled by me, I judged that it was my turn, and struck him with all the force I could muster a crashing blow upon the face with the heavy butt of the King's stave, which stunned and unsettled him so that he pitched forward upon his horse, yet not so as to lose his seat.
Nevertheless, owing to the swing of my arm, the stroke fell also partly upon his horse's back, which affrighted the beast and set him harder than ever to the running. So that I was passed ere I knew it, and the wood was won. But I was not thirty yards behind him, and looked to make the capture ere we reached the further side. And but for a foul trick I should have done it. It so happens that there is a little hill in the woods of Killochan, and I, seeing that John Mure was riding about one side, took round the other, thinking that I had the shorter line of it.
But he, so soon as he saw me make round the corner, turned his horse into its own hoof-marks and sped away back again—as it had been to meet them that pursued, but at the same time bearing enough to the south to clear them easily. So that when I came round the hill I saw no quarry, and only heard the boughs crashing in his wake.
Nevertheless, without the loss of a moment, I took the line of his retreat (as I thought), yet not so correctly but that when I issued forth from the wood I saw him nigh half a mile in front. Again he waved a contumelious hand which made me so fiercely angry that I tightened my waist-belt, and vowed to go no more to sunny Culzean if I took not back the head and hands of John Mure at my saddlebow.
So, with set and determined brow, I rode ever forward. It was the cast of the die for me, for Nell herself, our life together, and our green pastures and lavender-scented napery cupboards were all to come out of the catching of this enemy of our house. It is small wonder therefore that I was passing keen upon the matter.
Yet, in spite of my endeavours, I gained but little. And it was already greying to the twilight when I came to a place by the seashore, waste and solitary, where there were but few houses about. I had seen John Mure ride in thitherwards. And so I followed him full tilt, reckless of danger, being weary-heart with the ill-fortune of my riding and quest.
But as I entered the narrows of the pass, a stone flew from an ambuscade. I felt a hot, stunning blow upon the head, and with the pain I remember laying hold of my horse's mane and gripping tight with the hand on which a broken manacle still jangled. Something warm flowed over my brow, and suddenly I saw everything red, as though I had been looking through the stained glass of some ancient kirk—red flowers, red grass, red sand, and red sea.
That was all I saw, and I do not remember even falling to the ground.
CHAPTER XLVII
THE PLACE OF THE LEGION OF DEVILS
When I woke it was exceedingly dark, but a darkness with shooting lights and hideous sounds. At the first start I thought that I was dead and in the place of torment. And when I grew a little more awake, I wished to God that I had been. For all about were swart naked men and harpy-clawed women dancing round me, while on a cask or keg at my head sat John Mure himself, wrapped in his cloak and regarding me with gloating, baleful, bloodshot eyes.
Then I knew that I was lost indeed. For by the flickering light of a dying fire of driftwood I could see that I was again in the cave of Sawny Bean, in the same wide hall with the strange narrow hams a-swing on the roof, the tubs of salt meat festering under the eaves, and the wild savage crew dancing about me.
What wonder that my heart fainted within me to be thus left alone in that den of hideous things, and especially to think of the free birds going to their beds on the cliffs above me and the fishing solan geese circling and balancing home to the lonely rock of Ailsa.
'Ha, Sir Launcelot Kennedy,' said a mocking voice, as the deafening turmoil quieted a little, 'you are near your honours now—that is, if there be such bauble dignities either in heaven or hell. The Treasure of Kelwood in hand, John Mure's life out of hand—and there on the shelf (as it were) are your broad acres and your bonny lady!'
I was silent, for I knew that nothing could avail me now. It was useless to waste words.
'But ere all that comes to pass,' he went on, 'there are sundry little formalities to be gone through.—Oh, we are right dainty folk here in Sawny Bean's mansion. You shall be kept warm and cherished tenderly. There are here twenty sonsier queans than the one whose heart you desire. Warmly shall they welcome, sweetly shall they cherish handsome Sir Launcelot. Their embracements shall sting you more than all sweethearting raptures.'
Again he pauses to observe the effect of his words.
'You that so lately held me in chase, like a steer that has escaped from the shambles. Now you yourself are in the thills. You that have crossed me a thousand times in my plans since that frore night in Sir Thomas Nesbitt's yard in Maybole, you shall now be crossed in a new fashion. You that wagged tongue so merrily at another's expense, you shall see your tongue wag upon the redhot brander to an unkenned tune.
'You that have ridden so fast and so far, you shall ride your last ride—ride slowly, very slowly,' cried the fiend in my ear, 'for I shall hoard every drop of your blood as John of Cassillis hoards his gold rose nobles. I shall husband every minute of your life, as though they were the hours of young bridal content.
'Ye have bruised my old face indeed with your oaken staff, but I will cherish yours, that is youthful and blooming. Tenderly shall we take off the coverture of hide, the tegument of beauty. Sawny Bean has famous skill in such surgery. Gently will we lay you down in the swarming nest of the patient ant. We have read how Scripture bids the sluggard go to the ant, for if that makes him not lively, nothing will. I have ofttimes commented on the passage at family worship. And I must see that the young and headstrong, like you, my Lord Launcelot, give heed to that which is commanded.'
But in spite of all his terrible threatenings, I bode still and answered him never a word. They laid logs of driftwood upon the fire, till the whole inside of the cave grew bright and clear; and all the monstrous deformity of the women and the cruel hideousness of the men were made apparent as in broad daylight. Some of them were painted and stained like demons, and danced and leaped through the fire like them, too. For such monsters have not been heard of, much less seen, in the history of any country as were Sawny Bean and his crew in the cave upon the seashore of Bennanbrack.
'Bring me a knife,' cried John Mure from where he sat, for he appeared like a chief devil among a company of gibbering lubber fiends. He had still his grey cloak about him. His plumed hat was upon his head, and he looked, save for the eyes of him in which the fires of hell burned, a civil, respectable, well-put-on man of means and substance. As, indeed, save for his evil heart he might have been, for he came of as good a family as the Earl of Cassillis, or, as it might be, as I myself, Launcelot Kennedy of Kirrieoch.
So when Auchendrayne asked for a knife, Sawny Bean himself, the ruffian kemper, low-browed, buck-toothed, and inhuman, brought it to him with a grin. He made as if he would have set it in me to the hilt. But John Mure stayed him.
'Bide,' he said, 'not so fast. There is long and sweet pleasuring to come before that—such slow, relishing delight, such covetous mouseplay of the brindled cat, such luxurious tiger-licking of the delicate skin till it be raw, such well-conceited dainty torments as when one would bite his love and be glad of it. He shall taste them all, this frolic squire of errant-dames, this gamesome player upon pipes, this curious handler of quaint love tunes. Ere we pluck the red rose of his life, he shall sate himself with new delicious experience—rarer than the handling of many maidens' tresses.'
I was moved to speak to him.
'I ask not mercy,' said I, 'for I own that I would have killed you if I could. But as you are a valiant man, give me a sword and let me make a stand for it against you all, that as I have lived so I may also die fighting.'
But he mocked me, hurrying on in his heady turmoil of words.
'"If I be a man," you say—who said that I was a man? Do I act as other men? Is my knowledge like that of other men? Do I company with other men? Call you that a man?' (He pointed to Sawny Bean, who for wantonness sat on an upturned tub, striking with a keen-edged knife at the legs of all that came by for mere delight of blood, storming at them meantime with horrid imprecations to approach nearer and be flicked.) 'Or call you these men?' (He showed me some of the younger cannibal race gnawing like kennelled dogs at horrid bones.) 'Nay, my dainty wanton, you shall not enter Hell through the brave brattle of warring blades, nor yet handling your rapier like a morris-dancer. But as the blood drains to the white from the stricken calf, so shall they whiten your flesh for the tooth, and so reluctantly shall your life drip from you drop by drop.'
And I declare that this scornful fiend telling me of tortures in choice words made me scunner more than the prick of the knife. For the abhorred invention quickened the imagination and set the nerves agate.
So that I was honestly glad when he took knife in hand—a shoemaker's curved blade with a keen cutting edge.
'Strip him naked!' he cried. And very cheerfully so they did, smiting me the meantime with the broad of their hand.
Then John Mure leaned over me delicately, and made as though he would have traced with his knife the jointing of my limbs, saying, 'Thus and thus shall the she-tribe dismember your body when the torture of the ant's nest is ended.' And again 'Here is toothsome eating, Sawny Bean, thou chief lover of dainty vivers.'
Then, as the evil man went on with his pitiless jestings, his grey cloak began to waver before me, his face to glow like fire, and I fainted or dwamed away till the sharp knife pricked me into consciousness again.
Yet Auchendrayne overdid his threatening, for the too sharp relish of the words issued in tranced dulness ere the matter came to action. And of torture there was none that I can now remember or bear the mark of—save only the slight scores of the knife which he made when he showed me where they would joint and haggle my body.
Indeed, I mind no more till I came to myself, lying on my back, with the cave all empty save for John Mure—who sat, as before, with his hand to his ear listening.
But there sounded a great and furious uproar down by the cave mouth, the deep baying of bloodhounds, the fierce cry of many voices striving for mastery, and above all the shrieks of the smitten.
Surely, I thought, there is a battle fierce and fell at the cave's mouth. John Mure sat and listened for a long space, and presently he looked over at me.
'I will even make sure of him, come what may,' he said.
And with that he took the knife and came nearer to smite me in the breast, and I lay as one dead already, waiting for the stroke.
But even in that moment as I held my breath a ravening hound darted within the cave, overleaped the embers of the fire, and pinned the grey-haired murderer to the earth by the throat. He struck out desperately, but the dog held him fast. Another and another came in, till, as it seemed, he was in danger of being torn to pieces of dogs.
But me they minded not at all, for (as I say) I lay as one dead.
* * * * *
And this is the story of the chase as Nell told it to me when all was over.
As they of the King's company looked from the shore towards the south, there in the distance was John Mure on his horse disappearing into the wood, and I (as it seemed) at his very heels. Both of us were leaning far forward, like men that run a race. And because she knew that I carried no equipment with me, Nell leaped upon a horse with a sword laid before her crosswise on the saddle.
Whereupon I turned to Nell and called her the bravest maid in broad Scotland, with other names as I could mind them. But she set her head aside, and would content me nothing (though I was minded for kindness), saying only, 'If you do not desire to hear the tale, then I am saved the fash of telling it. 'Tis no time for fooling,' said she, 'when I am speaking of the saving of your life.'
'Nell,' said I (for I was nettled at her indifference), 'thou art an unseasoned lass, skilless in love's mysteries.'
'I want none of Kate Allison's love-skilling at second hand,' said Nell, harking back like a pretty shrew on her former taunts. 'Since ye are so wise, unriddle me the manner of your saving from the cave of Sawny Bean, and I am content to yield me to your teaching in the mysteries.'
Yet even with this fair promise I could not, but desired her instead to continue her tale-telling.
'Well,' said she, 'Robert Harburgh it was who, next after me, took horse—and not far behind either. For he had but to disentangle the bridle from his arm, while I had to beguile another to lend me his horse.
'So, in a little, we were all after you, and we took the wood in the very place you entered. But naught could we find save the trail of you all confused among the trees. Then what a chasing hither and thither there followed. Even the King searched for you like any common man, and puffed and blew upon his purple cheeks like the Dominie on his pipes. And he that had been our companion, this same Dominie, went about everywhere, seeking and crying each time that he came near to me, "Reckless loon, reckless loon, well he deserves to be unbreeched and soundly paid for this hardiness."
'Then we utterly lost you, and I believe they would have given up the search. But I minded me of the dogs that James of Chapeldonnan keeps for his own purposes, which on my way to Ailsa I had seen his wife feed. So I told the Earl John of them, and he had James Bannatyne brought, and bade him bring them to set on the trail, promising him his life if the matter were brought to a good issue.
'And so Robert Harburgh and a few swords were sent to Chapeldonnan with James Bannatyne—with his life upon it if he played them false, and Robert Harburgh's sword near his ribs each time that he faltered or failed to remember. And the good wife, seeing her man in such deadly case, came back herself to plead with the King for him.
'So the Chapeldonnan pack was laid on the trail, and fine well-hungered bloodhounds they were. But so soon as I heard the first deep bay, when, with noses on the ground, they took the line of the shore, it went to my heart that since you were the last to enter the wood the dogs would first seize you. So I cried a word to Robert Harburgh, and we two that loved you spurred horses and sped on well-nigh level with the dogs.
'And through all the windings and wimplings of your path we followed till we came to the shore, where, together with the King's oaken staff which had been in your hand, we found the place all trampled with naked feet and stains of blood. So we traced you across the shore grass to the sand and over the sand into the sea, with a company of bare feet and many stains of blood.
'Then for a moment I knew not what to think. But Marjorie, my sister, cried out, "It is the vile wretches of Sawny Bean's band who have taken him to the Cave of Death!"
'Then I remembered that the entrance to the cavern was among the rocks, and yet because of the gladness that was in our hearts when we issued forth, I had taken no very great pains to mind the exact place. Nor was the Dominie aught the wiser. For he had been wholly intent on blowing upon his pipes. But Marjorie minded better than any of us the cleave in the rocks, and showed us to a nearness where the cave entrance was. But the tide had flowed in, and we had perforce to wait and calm our impatience as best we might till it went back again, ere we could follow into the cave mouth. But by this time it was dark, so that the men-at-arms had to find rosin torches and set them alight.
'Thus with the flambeaux blazing and the smoke wavering red overhead we took our way along the wet edge of the sea. But the tide had washed away all traces of blood and feet. Up and down the coast we wandered trying every covert. And yet for our lives we could not hit upon the right cave's entrance. The dogs ran yelping and nosing here and there, but for long nothing came of it.
'Then Earl John and the King himself threatened James Bannatyne to reveal the place. But he denied that he had any knowledge of the cave. And whether he spoke truth or no I cannot say. But his wife went to the King and holding his bridle rein, she said, "Well do I ken, your Majesty, that my man's life is forfeit, but he is my husband. And at least, so far as it concerns him and me, betwixt barn-door and bed-stock I can rule him as a wife should. Gin I persuade him to lead you to the spot, will ye on your word, give me my ain man's life?"
'So the King promised, though Earl John hung a little on the form of the words. Then went the goodwife of Chapeldonnan to her husband. And what she said to him I know not, for they spake privily and apart. But though at first he shook his head and denied, as I could see, that he had any knowledge of the Cave of Death, yet in a little while he took some other thought and ran forward to grip one of the dogs.
'Then went James Bannatyne on ahead, with all of us hotfoot after him, with the torches and the swords.'
'And you also, Nell,' said I,' 'were you lurking with the men-at-arms, and which had you, a sword or a torch?'
'I had both,' said Nell Kennedy, shortly. And went on with her tale as if she had been speaking of milking-stools.
'James Bannatyne took the dog into all the wide cave mouths and made him smell the walls and floor above the tide mark, talking to the brute all the time and encouraging him. But for a long time it was still in vain.
'At last the other dog which had been left to itself, bayed out suddenly from among the rocks, where it had found a dark and dismal archway with a wide pool of water in it, which we had passed time and again without suspicion. And at the entrance to this place we found the second hound, with tail erected, baying up the cave mouth from the edge of the pool.
'Then so soon as James Bannatyne brought in his well-taught dog, it began to smell hither and thither with erected ears and bristling hair. Presently it swam away into the darkness. And because the men hesitated to go after the beast, I took the water to show them the way.'
Hearing which, I had made my acknowledgments.
But Nell said, 'No, no; hear my tale first.'
'Then with me there came Robert Harburgh, and after him the Earl and all his company with their torches. The pool proved shallow, and after many turns and windings we came to a wide place—indeed, to the same beach with sand and dripping fingers of stone where we had first found ourselves. And here also we passed the remains of our boat, for it was to this point that we had rowed that night when we took refuge in the lion's den. The savages had broken most of it up for firewood, yet enough remained so that I knew it again.
'But ere the men-at-arms had time to gather behind us, a host of wild creatures armed with stones, knives, and sheath-whittles burst upon us, yelling like demons of the pit. Women also there were, some half clad and some wholly without cleading. And then and there was a fight such as you, Launce, love to tell about, but I have no skill in. For the men-at-arms shot, and we that had but swords struck, while the wild folk shouted and the savage women bit and tore with their nails till the cavern was full of confused noise and the red reek of burning torches. But ever as the slain rolled among our feet they gripped to pull us down, so that in the intervals of his fighting Robert Harburgh went hither and thither "making siccar," as he said, with a coup de grace for each poor clawing wretch.
'And in the narrow doorway through which you found the way, stood the chief himself, with his eyes fiery-red, and his hair about his face. He gripped a mighty axe in his hand, and with it he stood ready to cleave all that came against him. Even the men hesitated at his fearsome aspect. And it was small wonder. But I knew that there was no other way to the innermost cave, so I cried to them to overpass the rabble and drive forward at all hazards.
'How it came about I know not, but a moment after I found myself opposite to Sawny Bean himself and engaging him with your sword—just for all the world as if it had been in the armoire room of Culzean on a rainy day, and you again teaching me the fence of blade against Lochaber axe. But though I had not wholly forgotten my skill, doubtless the giant had soon made an end of me, for he struck fiercely every way. But sudden as the heathcat springs on the hill, the little Dominie leaped upon him and drove his sword into his heart. So that Sawny Bean fell with Dominie Mure upon his breast. Then because he was not able to pull out his sword again, being too close, the Dominie gripped his dagger and struck again and again, panting. And between each blow he cried out the name of a lass—"Mary Torrance! Mary Torrance!" he said.
'Then it was that the hounds over-leaped the two of them struggling there in the arch and sprang on, and after them came Robert Harburgh and I. We two first entered the murky place of death. The dogs were mouthing and gripping the Grey Man. But you lay naked upon the sand as it had been dead.'
This was the matter of Nell's tale, and I will now in turn take up mine own part in it, from the time at which the dogs gripped my remorseless enemy, and as it had been, the life went out from me.
CHAPTER XLVI1I
THE FINDING OF THE TREASURE OF KELWOOD
When I came to myself the cave was filled with armed men and the confused clamour of voices. The torches spluttered and reeked, and I could feel that my naked body was covered with a woman's cloak wrapped well about me. Someone was binding up my head; and as she examined to see if all had been rightly done, I saw that it was Nell Kennedy. So I called her softly by her name.
But she bade me not try to rise; and looked again to my head to see that it had no serious wound.
Then came John the Earl and asked how I did. Whereupon, minding, as is my wont, to have old Time by the forelock, I spoke of his promise.
'Here,' I said, 'is the murderer John Mure. Here is the gang of monsters, and now I will put you in the way of obtaining the Treasure of Kelwood, if you will fulfil the promise which you made to me.'
'What was that?' he said shortly. For though Earl John liked promising well enough, he was not so fond of performing if it cost him aught, as in this case it was like to do.
'My sweetheart here, my knighthood, and a suitable down-sitting of land,' said I, knowing that it was now or never with me.
Then he demurred a little, and hesitated, so that for a moment I thought all was lost.
'Your sweetheart you shall have,' he said at last, 'but the others are not in my gift—save a holding of land, perhaps, which I can let you for a trifling return when it falls vacant.'
And so rejoiced was I to think of getting my lass that I might have consented to this; but Nell was behind me, and upon pretence of arranging a knot of the bandage upon my forehead, she whispered in my ear, 'Threat him with telling the King about the treasure.'
So, knowing her wisdom, I obeyed her.
'Well then, Earl John,' said I, 'if that be so, and a knighthood and suitable heritages are not in your power to bestow, here at hand is the King. Give me leave to speak with him. He is fond of treasure, and I can put a brave one under his hand!'
'Hush!' said the Earl, looking about him with apprehension. For the King was yet in the place with Mar and Lennox, ordering the taking down and burying of the strange, white, narrow-shaped hams, and the other things that turned the gay, squeamish folk that came with him pale and sick only to look upon them.
'Hush!' he said again, 'above all things beware what you say to the King. Show the Kelwood treasure to myself alone, and you shall have Barrhill—ay, and all Minnochside from the Rowan-tree to the forks of Trool, and I will even speak to the King about the knighting!'
'Will your lordship please to declare it before witnesses,' said I, Nell prompting me as before, for my head was dazed; but hers was singularly clear.
So he called to him certain honourable men of his name, and promised faithfully. 'Are you content?' said he.
So I said, 'Nelly, show them the treasure. Here is the key!'
And she rose and took them to the box—which, by the blessing of God remained still where we had left it in the recess—and she fitted the key in the lock, and it turned without a sound. And there the Earl bathed his hands in the set jewels, the loose stones of price, and the coined, golden money, plashing them through his fingers with a sound like a spout of water, till for fear of the King, I advised him to close it again.
'It is worth the bargain,' said he, 'though I am sorry to have promised away fair Minnochside. I trow it was woman's wit that guided you in the asking, and not that thick-bandaged head-piece of thine, Launcelot Kennedy.'
But I answered not, knowing how to leave well alone when a man is pleased with himself. So the Earl placed Robert Harburgh to guard the chest, and to lie discreetly concerning it if any of the King's men should come near, saying that it was but some foulness appropriate to the den.
But none came asking, and thus was the Treasure of Kelwood conquest for ever to the family of Cassillis.
As for Sawny Bean's monstrous brood, is it not recorded how they were carried through the country to Edinburgh, and as how they went the folk flocked in from leagues away to see and execrate them. They were hurried straight to the sands of Leith, where, without process of trial or pleading, and in the manner prescribed for such fiends, they were executed out of hand as enemies to the human race in general.
Thus, mainly through my instrumentality, was the country rid of a monstrous foul blot such as no land since the flood has ever been cursed with. Though I deny not that Dominie Mure and Nell Kennedy helped well according to their possibles, yet the most part of the credit was rightly given to me, who had twice adventured my life within the Cave of Death—though, as I admit, on both occasions against my will.