Book 1 — Chapter V

In which I ride away with my Captor, who threatens me with Death for High Treason

When I came to my senses, I found myself lying in the arms of the soldier: that is, he was kneeling by me, with my head pillowed on his arm. It was a comfortable position, but I could not retain it a moment longer than was necessary. My wig had been pulled off; my face was wet with water from the brook, which he had dashed in it energetically; my throat was burning from some kind of liquor which he had poured down it.

After the first emotion of comfort from being thus supported, my immediate feeling was one of fierce indignation that he had so mishandled me. I opened my eyes and my mouth at the same time, furiously determined to protest. One does not come out of such a swoon, however, in full possession of one's powers, and in that particular Sir Hugh had the advantage of me, for, so soon as I unclosed my eyes and before I had a chance to say a word, he spoke.

"My dear young lady," he began, with an air of masculine superiority which made me detest him.

That he should speak so to me was not to be borne. My weakness and faintness had passed. I resolutely drew myself away from him, and sat up. I maintained my position, too, although my head swam and things looked hazy and vague for a few moments.

"I am glad," said he with a gleam of triumph in his eye, "to see that you are better. Another swallow from this flask will probably put you to rights again."

He proffered me as he spoke a little silver-mounted bottle, which looked as if it might have been made to carry in the pocket. I shook my head positively.

"I want no more of it," I said. "I shall do very well as I am."

Then my eye fell upon my half-naked shoulder. With a convulsive movement, I swept my shirt across my breast, and held it there, and I know that my face was scarcely less crimson than the wound itself.

Sir Hugh Richmond, of course, saw my gesture. He paused, bit his lips to repress a smile, and then began resolutely.

"Madam," he said, as cold as you please, "I know not who you are, or why you have indulged yourself in this mad prank. You seem to be a gentlewoman...."

Seem! Great Heavens!—and yet I was thankful for the acknowledgment after all, for goodness knows, there was nothing in my conduct which would indicate that I belonged to that degree.

"And, therefore, I beg to assure you that, until matters are explained to me and arranged between us, I regard you simply as a woman in distress, entitled to my respectful duty and protection."

"You are very kind," I said, seeing that he paused once again.

"It is difficult to say this," he resumed, with some little embarrassment, "but you have a raw and open flesh-wound in your shoulder. It is necessary that it be bound up. In the nature of things you cannot do it yourself. There is no succour or help within miles. You must allow me to act as your surgeon."

"Never!" said I.

"But the bleeding must be stopped," he continued imperatively. "You must be got away from here."

"I don't care, even if I bleed to death," I protested vehemently but most miserably.

"Madam, you must," was the stern answer. "In the first place, although I am loath to allude to it in your present condition, really you are now a prisoner in my custody. You have halted the King's messenger, robbed the King's post on the King's Highway. The act is felony; nay, more, 'tis treason. The punishment I pointed out to you a few moments since. I must convey you hence, and I cannot march you away with that open wound."

"Let me die here then!" I wailed, not realising that death was not imminent from that cause at any rate.

"'Tis impossible," he said briefly, but with a firmness I could not stay. "And, in short, we have wasted too many words already."

He stepped toward me and bent over me. In my desperation I struck feebly at him with my unwounded arm.

"Madam," he said gently, catching me by the arm, "surely you see how futile is your resistance to me."

"But you are wounded yourself."

"A mere scratch," he replied. "Now, permit me."

There was no help for it. I sank back on the grass and hid my face with my right hand. Never in all my life had I been so humiliated and ashamed. The tears welled through my fingers. I hated myself for weeping, but I had no power to check their flow.

He whipped out a knife from some place, and, with skilful hands, slit the shirt across my shoulder, laying it bare. For all my blinding my eyes, I was acutely conscious of everything he did, and a little thrill of admiration at his delicacy pervaded me. A ruder man might have opened the shirt, but he took every care to conserve, so far as was possible, my outraged feelings by exposing me as little as possible.

"Have you anything," he said at last, after he laid bare the wound and washed it with water, which he brought from the brook in his hands; "have you any bit of linen on your person with which to bind it up?"

"Naught," said I.

"If you only had a linen petticoat," he blurted out.

"Ay," was my answer. "If I had that I should not now be here wounded, helpless, and at your mercy."

He looked me over critically from head to foot. I could see betwixt my fingers. His glance, which was careless and indifferent enough, made my flesh fairly creep. Then he did a strange thing. He tore off his coat, and applied the knife to the sleeve of his own shirt. He cut it clear close to the shoulder, slit it in lengths, used the ruffles as a cloth to cleanse the wound, the edges of which he drew together, applied some plaster which he procured from a little box in his waistcoat, and then, with amazing skill and deftness, used the strips of his sleeve to bandage it all firmly and well. It is impossible to describe the relief afforded me by the process. When it was completed, I drew down my hand from my face and looked gratefully at him.

"Now, madam," said he, "'tis but a rough soldier's dressing, but the bleeding is checked, and 'twill serve until we can have it properly bandaged and attended to by a more skilful chirurgeon or apothecary."

There were a few small pieces of his sleeve lying by my side. I sat up and used them to wipe my tear-stained face and heavy eyes. Sir Hugh surveyed me thoughtfully yet most kindly while I did so.

"I believe," said he, "that, with my assistance, we can manage to get your waistcoat and coat on you. The wound is fortunately high up on the shoulder, and you can bend your arm with but little pain. I take it that you do not wish to be recognised as a woman, at least by chance wayfarers, and it will be necessary for you to make this effort."

"With your assistance, I am sure I can manage it," I said, rising to my feet.

He extended me a friendly hand during the endeavour, and I was very glad to take it. I was shaky still in my knees, but I had no doubt I could manage all that was necessary. It was an operation of some difficulty to get the coat and waistcoat on without hurting me too greatly, and indeed, although the pain was severe, I set my teeth together and it was presently managed. Next he mixed me a draught of spirit, well diluted with cool water, in the little cup around the bottom of the flask. After I had partaken of this, I felt ready for whatever fortune had in store for me.

"You will be quite yourself in a few moments, I think. Meanwhile, I will allow you to rest at your ease while I inquire into this strange proceeding."

He indicated a fallen tree. I threw myself down on the grass and rested my head and unwounded arm upon it. Sir Hugh stood with folded arms by my side, quite in the attitude of a judge.

"Now," said he with ceremonious politeness, "that you are quite comfortable, will you kindly relieve my natural curiosity as to your extraordinary procedure?"

I hesitated as to how to begin the answer to this entirely natural request. Sir Hugh prompted me.

"First," he said, "it would be well for you to tell me your name and condition."

I could see no reason for concealing it. He had but to produce me in Edinburgh as his prisoner and a thousand people would tell him who I was.

"My name," said I, "is Katharine Clanranald."

The soldier started.

"What!" he exclaimed. "Are you the daughter of the Earl of Clanranald?"

"His only daughter," I returned.

"Lady Katharine Clanranald?"

"The same, sir."

"Is he your father whose warrant I was fetching from the King?"

"You speak truly, sir."

"The warrant; where is it?"

This was my one moment of triumph in all the interview now proceeding. I pointed to the remains of the fire off to one side.

"You will find what remains of the seal in that heap of ashes yonder," I said, smiling triumphantly.

Sir Hugh deliberately stepped over to it, carefully examined the heap of ashes, stirred it up with his foot, lifted the shapeless mass of wax in his hand.

"Your despatch-bag and the wallet you were good enough to hand me lie yonder," I said, "their contents otherwise intact."

He turned to them, picked them up, examined them carefully, thrust the wallet into the breast pocket of his coat, and turned to me, holding the despatch-bag in his hand.

"I see," said he, "that you have burned your father's warrant. Why did you do this, may I ask?"

"You were an enemy..." I began.

"Certainly not your enemy, madam," he interrupted quickly. "I simply serve my King and obey his orders. I have no personal feeling against you or against the Earl. That should be obvious."

"'Tis a matter of indifference, your feeling toward me or mine," I replied coolly, at which he flushed darkly.

"May I ask what you expect to gain beyond delay by this most extraordinary action, which is fraught with consequences to yourself infinitely more serious than you can imagine?"

"I know to the full, sir, what are the consequences to myself, and, knowing them, I took the risk to save my father's life."

"But you cannot save his life by this means. It will be not difficult to procure another warrant, and your action has removed the last vestige of possibility of royal clemency. You have gained nothing but a brief delay for your father, while for yourself..."

"And that, sir," I returned, "is all that I desire. New evidence hath been disclosed which will be laid before the King, with application for pardon signed by most of the great and loyal gentlemen of Scotland. I played for time. They cannot execute my father without the warrant, and, while one is being sent there, I shall be on my way south to London, to plead with His Majesty the Earl's cause."

"Humph!" said Sir Hugh, "you have forgotten one thing."

"And what is that, pray?"

"That you are now a prisoner attainted of treason; that to-night I turn you over to the commandant at Edinburgh, and your place will be a cell beside your father's. Two heads, one of them a fair one, may go to the block instead of one."

He spoke slowly and with cool deliberation, which lent tremendous emphasis to every word he said. I stared at him, bewildered, the truth of what he said coming over me like a wave. Was it indeed possible that I had risked everything and to no avail?

"Sir, sir," I began, and then I hid my face in my hands once more.

The pause was broken by the soldier.

"I never could abide to see a woman weep. The thought that many a hard adventure and many a bold attempt ends in a woman's tears has oft taken the joy out of some gallant undertaking," he said uncomfortably. "I pray your ladyship control your grief."

"Control my grief!" I flashed out. "Put yourself in my place. I have staked everything, full of hope that I might thus insure my father's life, and you tell me that I have but made his death more certain."

"And have only involved yourself in his evil fortune."

"For that I care not."

"And there is no one for whom you care enough to regret this life?"

"None, save Master Dunner."

"Ah!" exclaimed Sir Hugh, "and who is Master Dunner, pray?"

"An aged retainer of our house, the attorney and councillor who hath aided me in this juncture."

"Was this wild plan his?"

"My own," I answered.

"And had you no man of your house to whom to turn?"

"We are alone, my father and I."

"And was there no gallant among your acquaintance who could relieve you of this desperate endeavour?"

"Not without a price greater than I could pay."

"And that price?"

I do not know why I answered these questions, but he stood before me so dominant and so masterful; I felt so miserable and weak and helpless; the enterprise which I had carried through so gallantly, and from which I had hoped so much, was apparently fruitless. I was as a child before him for the time being.

"The price, I ask," he repeated.

"Myself."

A slow smile swept across Sir Hugh's face.

"Have you never found that tall, strong, brave, true man, with bright hair and blue eyes; that brave, fierce soldier to all the world who reserves his tender side for you, who will worship you and think you as far above him as the stars, Master Carthew?"

"Not yet," I answered, bitterly ashamed of myself as he quoted my foolish remarks of the night before.

I looked pointedly at him as I spoke.

"My own hair is brown, my eyes and skin are dark." He shook his head sadly and then, with a swift change of manner, he continued, "But, do you know, I think I have found the woman of whom I dreamed, and of whom I told you over the cups last night."

There was a direct, not to say a burning, intensity about his gaze, as he fixed it on me, that fairly shocked me.

"I pray you, sir, do not mock me," I began in my confusion.

In spite of my words, there was something that thrilled my heart not only in what he said, but in the way he said it.

"I was never farther from mockery in my life," said Sir Hugh gravely.

"These," said I, "are the manners of the army, doubtless, which finds a sweetheart in every post."

"How admirable is your memory," returned the soldier.

"And 'tis most ungenerous to entreat me thus, being a woman, wounded, helpless, beaten, and your prisoner."

"It is so," said Sir Hugh contritely. "Madam, you have rebuked me well. Now, what is to be done?"

It was obviously not for me to answer that question, so I remained discreetly silent while Sir Hugh pondered the situation, thinking deeply on his course.

"Do you know how far it is to the next town, Musselburgh I believe they call it?" he asked me at last.

I was tempted not to answer him. I would fain give no advice or counsel. I was not bound to give aid and comfort to the enemy. But lingering remains of discretion prompted me to placate my fierce conqueror by submissiveness, if possible.

"It is perhaps five or six miles by the road, I think."

"I could walk that distance easily. But you ... We must get there some way. Once there, it will be easy to secure a conveyance to enable us to reach Edinburgh in safety. I see naught for it but to go to the highroad and wait the chance of a passing coach or wagon, which we will impress."

"My horse should be yonder," I said.

"I frightened him away when I came up."

"Your own horse?"

"You drove him off evidently, for when I came to my senses he was gone."

"We will go, then, to the roadway. How did you find me here, sir?" I asked, rising slowly to my feet.

"You left a trail that a baby could have followed." He smiled. "And, before we start, there is another matter that must be adjusted between us." He hauled out of his pocket as he spoke a netted purse containing the money he had won from me the night before. "This," he said, "is yours. I don't play at dice with women."

He extended his hand with the purse in it, and bowed low before me.

I took the money—oh, I did not intend to keep it! I was never so angered and humiliated in all my life.

"Surely, sir," said I, "I have some claims to be considered as having played the manly part in that, in broad daylight on the King's Highway, I have despoiled a royal messenger, a tried and proved soldier, of his charge, and, in an encounter at arms, have left him senseless in the roadway while I made off scot-free."

"You have described the situation and your action excellent well, madam, but this exhibition of manly courage, address, and daring does not make you less a woman. I may fight with you on necessity, but I cannot game with you. The gold is yours and you will have need of it," remonstrated the soldier.

For answer, I hastily flung the purse and its contents into the brook.

"Let it lie there," I said.

Sir Hugh laughed uproariously. Then he deliberately waded into the brook, fished up the purse from the shallow pool in which it lay, and put it in his pocket.

"Your true woman," he said, "flings away treasure; your true soldier gathers it up, that, at some future day, he may place it in her hand again."

"Lead on to the roadway," said I, as imperiously as you please.

"Had best cover your curls with the sunshine in them, madam, with your wig before we go," said Sir Hugh, lifting up wig and hat and presenting them to me with a graceful but most ironical bow.

I clapped them on my head in some fashion. I was so angry that I neither knew nor cared whether they were rightly placed or not; and then, meekly to all appearances but with a heart filled with inward rage, I plodded through the forest to the side of the road.