Summer Of Love Part 15

Late afternoon, while the two sisters made cheese, their mother arrived. Looking accusingly at Helen, she immediately asked: "Has Robert been here?"

Helen answered quickly: "Yes, he came shortly after I got here, but left soon afterward. I think he went up to the lochan." She prayed that Betty wouldn't give her away, but her sister did not even look up from her work.

"And he hasn't come back?"

"No ... Did you send him after me? To spy on me?" The words gushed out before she could stop herself, her anger at her mother suddenly coming to a boil. "How could you, mother?"

"You know why! You brought this all upon yourself, la.s.s. If you hadn't encouraged master Andrew, this wouldn't have happened. If he's dead, it's your fault!"

"I told you I didn't meet him. How many times do I have to repeat it?" She met her mother's accusing look defiantly. She wasn't going to give herself away, not now.

"I don't believe you, la.s.s!" Mary turned away and left the hut.

When she was out of hearing range, Helen whispered: "Thank you, Betty."

Her sister answered smiling sadly. "You found Andrew, haven't you?"

"Yes, but it's better if you know nothing, Betty."

"But he's safe, isn't he?"

"I hope he'll be soon."

Her sister nodded, and both went back to their work.

Shortly after their evening meal, their father and brothers came up from the clachan. Helen's anxiety rose immediately.

"Has anybody seen Robert this afternoon?" asked Dougal without offering any greetings.

"No," answered Betty. "Mother already asked about him earlier today. Why are you all looking for him?"

Helen admired her sister's cool response.

"Because he has not been seen since this morning," snarled Dougal. "Come, lads, let's go to the lochan. He might still be there."

As they marched off, Helen hoped fervently that they wouldn't discover her tracks to the cave, nor that they would search all night.

When the night cloaked the shielings in darkness and their youngest brother was sound asleep, Helen whispered to Betty that she would be away for a few hours. Her sister hugged her and simply answered: "Be careful, Helen!"

She descended to the glen and hid in the shelter of the copse wood above the clachan. The moon was close to full and bathed the glen in its cold, silvery light, creating sharp contrasts of bluish greys and blacks, but lacking any depth. There were no lights in any of the cottages. Her father and brothers must have given up the search for Robert for the night.

She saw Andrew's horse grazing alone in an enclosed paddock above the crop fields, far enough away from the cottages for the dogs not to be disturbed if she moved carefully.

She realized that there was no way to retrieve the saddle from the cottage wall, where her father had hung it. Andrew would have to ride without. After waiting a few minutes, gathering courage, she slowly sneaked up to the horse and grabbed its bridle, talking soothingly to it. A single bark of a dog made her freeze for a minute or two. But it wasn't followed up by another. So, she slowly led the horse to the edge of the paddock, hiding behind it away from the cottages. Once in the safety of the woods, she took the path to the lochan, initially going slowly to avoid any noise, and then striding out as fast as her breath would carry her.

Andrew awaited her at the entrance to the cave. She didn't resist his embrace. They remained in each other's arms for a long time. Finally, she broke away and whispered: "Andrew, you must leave now."

"Helen, you're coming with me," he said in a matter of fact voice.

"No, Andrew, I cannot. You must hurry. There's no time to lose! The men will all come searching again for Robert in the morning."

Andrew put his hands on her shoulders. "I won't leave without you. There's nothing for me out there alone!" His tone was resigned and calm. He folded his arms again around her and held her close. "They'll kill you when they find out you helped me escape. We might as well die together ... here!"

He kissed her. She struggled to free herself. Dimly Robert's m.u.f.fled screams of rage reached her ears. He must have heard them talking. She saw in her mind his angry, red face. A paralyzing fear took hold of her, fear of Robert's violence that seemed to lurk under the surface, so easily provoked to boil over; fear of her father; fear for herself. They'll kill me! She was sure of that. And if Andrew doesn't leave, they'll kill him too.'The strength that had kept her going all day suddenly drained away. She slackened in Andrew's arms.

"Take me with you, Andrew." Her whisper was almost inaudible, but the increased pressure of his embrace and the sudden pounding of his heart told her that he understood. Having said the unspeakable, going against her own blood, she knew that this was what she had wanted all along, but hadn't dared to admit to herself. With a gentle touch, he raised her chin and kissed her.

11.

Robert's renewed outburst of m.u.f.fled shouting shattered their moment of closeness, of finding each other.

"Why does he sound so strange?" asked Helen.

"I gagged him just after you left ... as a precaution."

"What are we going to do about him? ... We can't leave him in there."

"No, we'll have to bring him outside some way, ... but without untying him. Your folks will find him when they come looking for him in the morning."

"Yes, but how can we get him through the narrow pa.s.sage, without untying him?"

"I'll have to drag him."

They crawled back into the cave, where Helen lit a fir candle with the embers she had brought along. Robert's hatred suddenly became a stark reality. Its intensity, glaring fiercely from his distorted face as he tried to voice threats and abuse through the gag, hit her like a physical a.s.sault.

Andrew approached him. "We'll take you outside so that your people will find you when they come searching for you." He though wondered how. Pulling the tall man through the narrow opening was easier said than done. With his arms tied behind, the obvious manner of dragging him on his back became impossible. He would have to retie them at the front. But he didn't trust Robert to cooperate to that extent, nor did he think that Helen would fire Robert's pistol if the latter resisted. He would have no choice but to drag him on his stomach.

Suddenly, without warning, Robert kicked with his tied feet. Only Andrew's instant reaction saved him from being hit hard in the groin. He tried again, this time coming from behind. With surprising agility, Robert swivelled around and kicked again, barely missing. Helen watched in dismay.

"You've a choice. Either you cooperate and let me drag you from the cave or I leave you in here to rot." A hard tone had crept into Andrew's voice, a tone that was unfamiliar to her. He approached Robert again. When the latter pulled back his legs for another kick, Andrew turned, saying: "As you wish!"

He took the fir candle and said: "Come, Helen. We've to hurry."

She was on the verge to protest and then noticed that he shook his head almost imperceptibly. They had not reached the cave exit when Robert's m.u.f.fled protests called them back.

"You want to cooperate?" asked Andrew with a wry smile.

Robert nodded vigorously.

"But I'll give you only one chance. Resist once more, and I'll leave you here. Take my word!"

Robert nodded again emphatically. Fear overlaid the hatred in his face.

"All right! Roll onto your stomach then."

After some hesitation, the big lad did. Andrew approached him cautiously, fully prepared for another trick. But Robert did not move. It was hard, awkward work to pull the heavy protesting lad inch by inch through the tunnel. Once outside, he hauled him by the shoulders to a highly visible spot at the bottom of the path leading up to the rock. There he removed the gag. Instantly, Robert began to swear and cuss.

"You wh.o.r.e, you'll pay for this. Don't think you'll get away." In his rage he failed to breathe properly and broke into a violent cough. "You won't get far, I promise. I'll follow you to the end of the world and kill your lover boy slowly. Tear his b.a.l.l.s off one by one, you s.l.u.t. Cut his c.o.c.k." He had another attack of coughing. "Whoring around a month before our wedding, while I slave away building us a nice cottage. You ungrateful b.i.t.c.h! I should've shown you who's the master right after the dance. You'll get a hiding you'll never forget, and then I'll show him how a real man ravishes a woman. I'll strangle him slowly, and you'll beg me to kill you too. You deceiving wh.o.r.e, lying to me, making me the laughing stock of the McNabbs and the Campbells. I'll show them how a MacGregor deals with a s.l.u.t like you."

Helen held her hands over her ears, trying to shut out the flood of abuse, while Andrew simply ignored him.

Hampered by his injury, he needed Helen's help to mount the horse and then pulled her up behind him. She put both arms around his waist and clasped her legs around the horse's rump as best as she could. As he turned the horse away from the lochan, Robert yelled: "I ravished her, lover boy, and she wanted more. She's probably with child already! My child!"

Andrew did not respond.

"He's lying, Andrew," murmured Helen.

"I know, Helen. He's just a desperate fool." He kicked the horse into a trot. "Hold on tight, love."

"You wh.o.r.e, I'll get you! Kill you both. You won't get far! ... Wh.o.r.e ... wh.o.r.e ... wh.o.r.e!" Robert's hoa.r.s.e cussing followed them from afar, the echoes mocking them.

He felt Helen shudder at his back and put his left hand rea.s.suringly over hers, squeezing them. She rubbed her head against his shoulder.

He rode rather carefully. Although he could easily find the path down to Achmore in the bright moonlight, they couldn't afford any mishap and going more slowly now would do little to their chances of getting away safely. Both were silent, except for the occasional rea.s.suring "I love you."

Just as dawn suggested itself on the horizon, they crossed the Dochart above the falls, a few hundred feet west of Killin. Andrew reined the horse in the darkness of a clump of firs.

"Helen, I think I should go alone to fetch my things at the inn. If anybody saw you there with me, they might get suspicious."

"Yes, Andrew."

"This is a good place for you to hide ... or are you afraid to stay here alone for a while? I won't be long."

"No, I'm not afraid."

She sounded subdued. He helped her down. All of a sudden, doubts a.s.sailed him about the wisdom of leaving her alone. It wasn't so much that somebody might discover her. He was more afraid that she might change her mind about coming with him and leave. He clambered off the horse too and held her close, begging: "Helen, promise me by your love for me that you'll stay here until I'll come back and not run away? ... Please, promise?"

"I promise, Andrew. Don't be long!"

He hugged her. "I love you so, Helen!"

"I love you too, Andrew!"

At the inn, Andrew made various attempts to raise somebody, knocking at doors and windows. Finally, the innkeeper opened the wicket of the main entrance.

"Who makes such a racket? What do you want at this time of the night?"

"It's Andrew Campbell, I took a room with you some ten days ago. Please, Mr. Nichols, let me in!"

For a moment, the innkeeper failed to react, then he exclaimed: "Master Andrew?" But caution quickly returned and he said: "Come closer so I can see you."

Andrew complied, placing his face into the narrow cone of light falling through the opening. A few seconds later, the key turned in the lock and the door opened.

"Come in, master Andrew. Where have you been these past three days? We worried about you. A young man asked for you several times."

"I had a bad accident. I'm lucky I made it back in one piece."

"Yes, look at you! You even lost your hat."

In fact, Andrew's clothes were disheveled, his short waistcoat crumpled and his leather breeches had blood and earth stains. It was difficult to guess the original color of his stockings. His hair hung down loosely.

"As I said, I'm glad I didn't get injured more seriously, just a bad gash in my leg." He pointed at his left thigh.

While he locked the door the innkeeper briefly looked at the hole in Andrew's breeches and exclaimed: "This looks like a bullet hole. I'll ask my dear wife to have a look at it later on this morning, Master Andrew. Don't you worry about it. She has taken care of many a wound."

"Ah, this is a very kind offer," replied Andrew, "but as it is, I'm now late for catching the boat. So I must hurry off right away. I'll just pack my things... Oh, there's something else where you may perhaps help me. I completely ruined my saddle in the fall, but fortunately the horse was not hurt. Would you have a good saddle I could buy?"

The innkeeper removed his night cap and scratched himself at the back of his head. "Mm ... I'll have a look in the stable. I think there's a fairly new saddle somewhere." But the sudden glint in his eyes left little doubt that he was eager to sell it, hoping for a rather good price. He shuffled to the back of the inn which led to the stables.

Andrew hobbled upstairs, favoring his left leg. In his room, he undressed and washed himself quickly, put on a clean shirt, stockings, and velvet breeches, and knotted a new kerchief around his neck. Then he packed his few belongings into his saddle bags. He slipped his dagger under his belt and checked the two pistols, glad that he had left them behind before going into the mountains. After combing his hair, he gathered it into a tail and put on his French beret. A quick check of the room, and he was again on his way down the stairs, just as Mr. Nichols returned from the stables with a saddle that he had dusted off superficially, revealing that it had seen a lot of use-not fairly new as he had proclaimed.

After a bit of bargaining, Andrew settled his account.

"Just one more thing, Mr. Nichols. I didn't have much food lately and am rather hungry. Would you be willing to pack me double portions of your marvelous sausages, cheeses, and breads? I add another two shillings for it."

"Wouldn't you rather eat here at your leisure? I can make you a fresh cup of coffee," ventured the innkeeper.

"That's very kind of you, but I really must be going right away."

"Why the hurry, master Andrew?"

"Oh, you know that I had wanted to leave already a week ago and stayed because you told me I should not miss the dance. With this accident, I'm now really well behind and can't lose more time or else I'll miss my boat."

Shaking his head, Mr. Nichols disappeared in the larder, while Andrew busied himself with saddling the horse. The old man soon returned and handed Andrew a fat pouch.

"Thank you for your kind hospitality, Mr. Nichols. You can be sure I'll recommend your inn to other travelers. And now I better be off." Then it occurred to him that he could sow false information. "It's a long way to Dundee. I surely hope I haven't missed my boat."

Somewhat clumsily, he swung himself into the saddle and bent down to shake hands with the innkeeper. As he set his horse into motion, the latter shouted: "Mind the road near the castle. You have to keep right to go along the loch."

Andrew waved in acknowledgment and trotted down the road. He was glad that he had given Dundee as his destination. Like this, the innkeeper would confirm that he had seen him ride east toward the true left of Loch Tay. After the last house, Andrew turned, skirting the town, and cantered back along the marshlands to the little forest, the uneasy feeling of having left Helen there alone growing by the minute.

The sky had taken on a delicate, milky white, so typical of a rare clear early morning. A crown of gold was forming around Ben Lawers, heralding the rising of the sun.

He entered the trees and stopped at the place where he had parted with Helen. She was not there, his unease escalating into panic. His heart missed a beat when she came out from behind a tree trunk. He jumped off the horse, winced in pain as he jarred his left thigh, and rushed to her.

"I was afraid you had left me, Helen," he murmured, holding her tightly.