"It"s Sakelde, the English Warden"s deputy, and no friend o" mine," he answered with a frown, "and on any other day I would not have met him alone like this for a hundred merks; but the truce holds for three days yet, so we are quite safe; all the same, lad, we had better turn our horses round, and slip in behind that little hill; they may not have noticed us, and in that case "tis no use rousing their curiosity."
Alas! we had no sooner set our horses to the trot, than it became apparent that not only were we observed, but that for some reason or other the leader of the band of hors.e.m.e.n was desirous of barring our way.
He gave an order,--we could see him pointing with his hand,--and at once his men spurred on their horses and began to spread out so as to surround us. Then my father swore a big oath, and plunged his spurs into his horse"s sides. "Come on, Jock," he shouted, "sit tight and be a man; if we can only get over the hill edge at Kershope, they"ll pay for this yet."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "MY FATHER EYED THEM KEENLY, HIS FACE GROWING GRAVE AS HE DID SO."]
I will remember that race to my dying day. It appeared to last for hours, but it could not have lasted many minutes, ten at the most, during which time all the blood in my body seemed to be pounding and surging in my head, and the green gra.s.s and the sky to be flying past me, all mixed up together, and behind, and on all sides, came the pit-pat of horses" feet, and then someone seized my pony"s rein, and brought him up with a jerk, and my father and I were sitting in the midst of two hundred armed riders, whose leader, a tall man, with a thin cunning face, regarded us with a triumphant smile.
"Neatly caught, thou thieving rogue," he said; "by my troth, neatly caught. Who would have thought that Kinmont Willie would have been such a fool as to venture so far from home without an escort? But I can supply the want, and thou shalt ride to Carlisle right well attended, and shall never now lack a guard till thou partest with thy life at Haribee."
As the last word fell on my ear, I had much ado to keep my seat, for I turned sick and faint, and all the crowd of men and horses seemed to whirl round and round. Haribee! Right well I knew that fateful name, for it was the place at Carlisle where they hanged prisoners. They could not hang my father--they dare not--for although he had been declared an outlaw, and might perhaps merit little love from the English, was not this a day of truce, when all men could ride where they would in safety?
""Tis a day of truce," I gasped with dry lips; but the men around me only laughed, and I could hear that my father"s fierce remonstrance met with no better answer.
"Thou art well named, thou false Sakelde," I heard him say, and his voice shook with fury, "for no man of honour would break the King"s truce in this way."
But Sakelde only gave orders to his men to bind their prisoner, saying, as he did so, "I warrant Lord Scroope will be too glad to see thee to think much about the truce, and if thou art so scrupulous, thou needest not be hanged for a couple of days; the walls of Carlisle Castle are thick enough to guard thee till then. Be quick, my lads," he went on, turning to his men; "we have a good fourteen miles to ride yet, and I have no mind to be benighted ere we reach firmer ground."
So they tied my father"s feet together under his horse, and his hands behind his back, and fastened his bridle rein to that of a trooper, and the word was given for the men to form up, and they began to move forward as sharply as the boggy nature of the ground would allow.
I followed in the rear with a heavy heart. I could easily have escaped had I wanted to do so, for no one paid any attention to me; but I felt that, as long as I could, I must stay near my father, whose ma.s.sive head and proud set face I could see towering above the surrounding soldiers, for he was many inches taller than any of them.
The spring evening was fast drawing to a close as we came to the banks of the Liddle, and splashed down a stony track to a place where there was a ford. As we paused for a moment or two to give the horses a drink, my father"s voice rang out above the careless jesting of the troopers.
"Let me say good-bye to my eldest son, Sakelde, and send him home; or do the English war with bairns?"
I saw the blood rise to the English leader"s thin sallow face at the taunt, but he answered quietly enough, "Let the boy speak to him and then go back," and a way was opened up for me to where my father sat, a bound and helpless prisoner, on his huge white horse.
One trooper, kinder than the rest, took my pony"s rein as I slid off its back and ran to him. Many a time when I was little, had I had a ride on White Charlie, and I needed no help to scramble up to my old place on the big horse"s neck.
My father could not move, but he looked down at me with all the anger and defiance gone out of his face, and a look on it which I had only seen there once before, and that was when he lifted me up on his knee after my mother died and told me that I must do my best to help him, and try to look after the little ones.
That look upset me altogether, and, forgetting the many eyes that watched us, and the fact that I was eleven years old, and almost a man, I threw my arms round his neck and kissed him again and again, sobbing and greeting as any bairn might have done, all the time.
"Ride home, laddie, and G.o.d be with ye. Remember if I fall that thou art the head of the house, and see that thou do honour to the name," he said aloud. Then he signed to me to go, and, just as I was clambering down, resting a toe in his stirrup, he made a tremendous effort and bent down over me. "If thou could"st but get word to the Lord of Buccleuch, laddie, "tis my only chance. They dare not touch me for two days yet.
Tell him I was ta"en by treachery at the time o" truce."
The whisper was so low I could hardly hear it, and yet in a moment I understood all it was meant to convey, and my heart beat until I thought that the whole of Sakelde"s troopers must read my secret in my face as I pa.s.sed through them to where my pony stood.
With a word of thanks I took the rein from the kindly man who had held it, and then stood watching the body of riders as they splashed through the ford, and disappeared in the twilight, leaving me alone.
But I felt there was work for me to do, and a ray of hope stole into my heart. True, it was more than twenty miles, as the crow flies, to Branksome Tower in Teviotdale, where my Lord of Buccleuch lived, and I did not know the road, which lay over some of the wildest hills of the Border country, but I knew that he was a great man, holding King James"
commission as Warden of the Scottish Marches, and at his bidding the whole countryside would rise to a man. "Twas well known that he bore no love to the English, and when he knew that my father had been taken in time of truce...! The fierce anger rose in my heart at the thought, and, burying my face in my pony"s rough coat, I vowed a vow, boy as I was, to be at Branksome by the morning, or die in the attempt. I knew that it was no use going home to Kinmont for a man to ride with me, for it was out of my way, and would only be a waste of time.
It was almost dark now, but I knew that the moon would rise in three or four hours, and then there would be light enough for me to try to thread my way over the hills that lay between the valleys of the Teviot and Liddle. In the meantime, there was no special need to hurry, so I loosened my pony"s rein, and let him nibble away at the short sweet gra.s.s which was just beginning to spring, while I unbuckled the bag of cakes which I had put up so gaily in the morning, and, taking one out, along with a bit of cheese, did my best to make a hearty meal. But I was not very successful, for when the heart is heavy, food goes down but slowly, and Janet"s oatcake and the good ewe cheese, which at other times I found so toothsome, seemed fairly to stick in my throat, so at last I gave it up, and, taking the pony by the head, I began to lead him up the valley.
Although I had been down the Liddle as far as the ford once or twice before, it had always been in daylight, and my father had been with me; but I knew that as long as I kept close to the river I was all right for the first few miles, until the valley narrowed in, and then I must strike off among the high hills on my left.
It was slow work, for it was too dark to ride, and I dare not leave the water in case I lost my way, and by the time we had gone mayhap four or five miles, I had almost lost heart, for I was both tired and cold, and it seemed to me that half the night at least must be gone, and at this rate we would never reach Branksome at all.
At last, just when the tears were getting very near my eyes--for I was but a little chap to be set on such a desperate errand--I struck on a narrow road which led up a brae to my left, and going along it for a hundred yards or so, I saw a light which seemed to come from a cottage window. I stopped and looked at it, wondering if I dare go boldly up and knock.
In those lawless days one had to be cautious about going up to strange houses, for one never knew whether one would find a friend or an enemy within, so I determined to tie my pony to a tree, and steal noiselessly up to the building, and see what sort of place it was.
I did so, and found that the light came from a tiny thatched cottage standing by itself, sheltered by some fir trees. There appeared to be no dogs about, so I crept quite close to the little window, and peered in through a hole in the shutter. I could see the inside of the room quite plainly; it was poorly furnished, but beautifully clean. In a corner opposite the window stood a rough settle, while on a three-legged stool by the peat fire sat an old woman knitting busily, a collie dog at her feet.
There could be nothing to fear from her, so I knocked boldly at the door. The collie flew to the back of it barking furiously, but I heard the old woman calling him back, and presently she peeped out, asking who was there.
""Tis I, Jock Armstrong of Kinmont," I said, "and I fain would be guided as to the quickest road to Branksome Tower."
The old woman peered over my head into the darkness, evidently expecting to see someone standing behind me.
"I ken Willie o" Kinmont; but he"s a grown man," she said suspiciously, making as though she would shut the door.
"He"s my father," I cried, vainly endeavouring to keep my voice steady, "and--and--I have a message to carry from him to the Lord of Buccleuch at Branksome." I would fain have told the whole story, but I knew it was better to be cautious. I was still no distance from the English Border, and it would take away the last chance of saving my father"s life, were Sakelde to get to know that word of his doings were like to reach the Scottish Warden"s ears.
"Loshsake, laddie!" exclaimed the old dame in astonishment, setting the door wide open so that the light might fall full on me, ""tis full twenty miles tae Branksome, an" it"s a bad road ower the hills."
"But I have a pony," I said. ""Tis tied up down the roadway there, and the moon will rise."
"That it will in an hour or two, but all the same I mis...o...b.. me that you"ll lose your road. What"s the matter wi" Kinmont Willie, that he has tae send a bairn like you his messages? Ye needna" be feared to speak out," she added as I hesitated; "Kinmont Willie is a friend of mine--at least, he did my goodman and me a good turn once--and I would like to pay it back again if I could."
I needed no second bidding; it was such a relief to have someone to share the burden, and I felt better as soon as I had told her, even although the telling brought the tears to my eyes.
The old woman listened attentively, and then shook her fist in the direction which the English had taken.
"He"s a fause loon that Sakelde," she said, "and I"d walk to Carlisle any day to see him hanged. "Twas he who stole our sheep, two years past at Martinmas, and "twas your father brought them back again. But keep up your heart, my man; if you can get to the Bold Buccleuch he"ll put things right, I"ll warrant, and I"ll do all I can for you. Go inbye, and sit down by the fire, and I"ll go down the road and fetch the nag.
You"ll both be the better for a rest, and a bite o" something to eat, and when the moon is risen I"ll take you up the hill, and show you the track. My goodman is away at Hawick market, or he would ha"e ridden a bit of the road wi" ye."
When I was a little fellow, before my mother died, she used to read me lessons out of her great Bible with the silver clasps, and of all the stories she read to me, I liked the lesson of the Good Samaritan best, and, looking back, now that I am a grown man, it seems to me that I met the Good Samaritan that night, only he was a woman.
After Allison Elliot, for that was her name, had brought my pony into her cow-house, and seen that he was supplied with both hay and water, she returned to the cottage, and with her own hands took off my coa.r.s.e woollen hose and heavy shoon, and spread them on the hearth to dry, then she made me lie down on the settle, and, covering me up with a plaid, she bade me go to sleep, promising to wake me the moment the moon rose.
It was nearly eleven o"clock when she shook me gently, bidding me get up and put on my shoon, as it was time to be going, and, sitting up, I found a supper of wheaten bread and hot milk on the table, which she told me to eat, while she wrapped herself in a plaid and went out for the nag.
What with the sleep, and the dry clothes, and the warm food, I promise you I felt twice the man I had done a few hours earlier, and I chattered quite gaily to her as she led my pony up a steep hillside behind the cottage, for the moon was only beginning to rise, and there was still but little light. After we had gone some two miles, we struck a bridle track, well trodden by horses" hoofs, which wound upwards between two high hills.
Here Allison paused and looked keenly at the ground.
"This is the path," she said; "you can hardly lose it, for there have been riders over it yesterday or the day before. Scott o" Haining and his men, most likely, going home from their meeting at the Kershope Burn. This will lead you over by Priesthaugh Swire, and down the Allan into Teviotdale. Beware of a bog which you will pa.s.s some two miles on this side of Priesthaugh. "Tis the mire Queen Mary stuck in when she rode to visit her lover when he lay sick at Hermitage. May the Lord be good to you, laddie, and grant you a safe convoy, for ye carry a brave heart in that little body o" yours!"
I thanked her with all my might, promising to go back and see her if my errand were successful; then I turned my pony"s head to the hills, and spurred him into a brisk canter. He was a willing little beast, and mightily refreshed by Allison Elliot"s hay, and, as the moon was now shining clearly, we made steady progress; but it was a long lonely ride for a boy of my age, and once or twice my courage nearly failed me: once when my pony put his foot into a sheep drain, and stumbled, throwing me clean over his head, and again when I missed the track, and rode straight into the bog Allison had warned me about, and in which the little beast was near sticking altogether, and I lost a good hour getting him to firm land and finding the track again.
The bright morning sun was showing above the Eastern horizon before I left the weary hills behind me, but it was easy work to ride down the sloping banks of the Allan, and soon I came to the wooded valley of the Teviot.
Urging on my tired pony, I cantered down the level haughs which lay by the river side, and it was not long before Branksome came in sight, a high square house, with many rows of windows, flanked by a ma.s.sive square tower at each corner.
I rode up to the great doorway through an avenue of beeches and knocked timidly on the wrought-iron knocker, for I had never been to such a big house in my life before, and I felt that I made but a sorry figure, splashed as I was with mud from head to foot.