Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland Volume IX Part 11

Her cutting words had still no effect upon the good-natured farmer, who continued his operations till he got the six steers safely lodged in their shed. He then came into the house quietly, and, with a "heigh-ho, that job's weel owre," sat him down by the side of the fire, opposite to his wife and daughter. For some minutes there was silence in the house of Kelpiehaugh; the reason whereof was that Matty's authority was for once apparently disregarded, or set at naught, by the apparent absence of all tokens of fear and contrition on the part of her mate. She had already indicated sufficiently her sense of his stupidity, and given him a peremptory notice of what he might expect for the next half-year to come; yet there was he, against all custom, and all the laws of marital subordination, sitting as easy and comfortable as if he merited her praise and deserved her blessing. She could only look daggers at him, with occasionally an expression of staring wonder at a nonchalance that disproved twenty years of authority.

"Is there naething in Kelpiehaugh for its master to eat or drink?" said he, at last, in a calm, soft voice. "A hard day's wark deserves something at e'en."

"Is he adding impertinence to his folly?" thought the dame, as she sat doggedly silent and immoveable.

"Come, Mary," added he; "since Matty will gie us naething, rise, la.s.sie, and gie your father the best that's in the house, and, by way o' bribe, here's a new gown to ye--the bonniest and brawest I could find at St Boswell's."

The girl started up and laid hold of the dress. The bright hues glared on her eyes. The dame cast a side-eye on the gaudy article.

"Waur and waur, Giles," she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Are ye mad, man? What, in the name o' a' that's guid or ill, possessed ye? Will that gown pay our rent?"

"Maybe it may," rejoined Giles. "Mary's the bonniest la.s.s on this side o' the Tweed, and beauty's nae waur o' being weel buskit. It may bring her a husband wha'll pay our rent; and, if it doesna, there's nae skaith, seeing we may yet be able to do it oursels."

"The man's as mad as a March hare, or a gled-stung quey," cried Matty.

"But am I to get nae supper, Matty?" rejoined he, with the same calmness.

"The deil a bit," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the dame.

"Maybe this may bribe ye," said he, as he pulled out of another pocket a gown-piece, as bright as the other, for his beloved spouse.

The charm had no power, save that of increasing the wonder of the dame; and the statement which immediately followed, that there was a stranger to be entertained at Kelpiehaugh that night, roused her still farther.

It was not till she began to look more narrowly into the face of her husband, that she observed a dry humour about him, that might be anything but the result of an unsuccessful attempt to dispose of his b.e.s.t.i.a.l, and, going up to him, she shook him heartily by the shoulders.

"Come, come, Giles," she said, "there's a secret at the bottom o' a'

this, and maybe this may explain it."

And, seizing his pocket-book, she opened it, and pulled forth the bunch of notes. They were counted on the instant, and the eyes of the dame brightened up at every addition to the calculation. The farmer explained all, and, in the course of his narration, Matty's wonder waxed great again. She was not altogether satisfied. She looked at the notes, to see that they were not forged; glanced at Giles; fell into a brown study; looked at Mary; hemmed and heyed; and began to make preparations for the stranger. In about an hour afterwards, the old customer arrived, was ushered in to the fire, and took his seat, while Giles went to look to the putting-up of his horse, which, he observed, was as clever and clean-limbed a creature as that which carried the "fair ladye" and "true Thomas" over the Eildon Hills. The supper was, in the meantime, in the act of being served up. The old man coughed and told stories, Mary listened, and Matty eyed her guest with a peculiar expression, which made him rub his beard, cough more and more, and retire farther into the recess which he had taken possession of. Nor would the supper draw him forth; for he said he had supped before he came, yet had he no objection to drink the ale which Matty handed him, and was as merry as an old man might be, who had seen so many summers as his beard betokened. Many a thing they talked of, but they all concerned the farmer, and his wife and daughter; for the never a word would he say of himself, either as to what he was, or where he lived--the dry skeleton of a name, Mr Farquharson, being all he gratified them with, while, in return, he asked so much of the condition and doings of his host and family, that one might have thought he intended either to pay their arrears of rent, or marry the daughter, at the very least. The supper, of which he partook not, being done, he said he wished not to put them about in their arrangements, and would be very well pleased to lie in the small bed behind him, unless that were set apart for some other of the family.

"That ye may weel hae, sir," said Matty on the instant, "if ye hae a fancy to it. A sma' reward for the guid price ye gae for the cattle.

Mary can sleep for a nicht in the kitchen--for Jenny is at St Boswell's, and winna be hame before the morn."

"You will have only one night's trouble of me," replied the old man; "but you may have more of the cattle--eight at least--and I think I will better pay you beforehand, Mr Ramsay, that there may be no mistake when the men come to take them away."

And he put into the farmer's hand three times the sum he would have demanded for the keeping of the steers. The farmer would have refused the money, but Matty, whose by-play all along had been unnoticed by her husband, pinched him on the arm, and the words of rejection died away in his mouth. The parties afterwards retired to bed, leaving the strange visiter in the apartment allotted to him.

"I never did a better day's wark, guidwife," said the farmer to his partner, when they went up-stairs.

"Hush! hush! man, ye dinna ken what ye have done," replied she; and the next moment she was busy whispering something in the ear of the farmer.

He started instantly, cried, "Impossible, impossible!" and stood for a moment in dismay and consternation. But Matty gave him no time for thought. She was again busy with his ear; and the next exhibition he made was of an opposite character--a strange expression was upon his face, and he slapped her upon the back in the extravagance of a feeling that, whether betokening good-humour or not, seemed to have no bounds.

In a short time, the house was as quiet as Grimalkin himself could have wished it, when bent on a hunting foray. All had apparently gone to bed, and the stillness continued till considerably after midnight. A slow tap at the kitchen-door showed that one individual at least was astir.

"Mary, Mary, are you awake?" said a voice, that at least was uninterrupted by a cough.

The answer was a whisper from within. After some parley, the door was opened, and a series of secret doings, among which the opening of the outer door of the house, a recourse to the stable, the saddling of the fleet horse, and other furtive preparations for a departure, were the most important. During all this time, the figure of a female wrapped in a cloak stood in the recess of the door. The horse was quietly walked to the loan, and the mantled figure glided as secretly as a ghost, who knows that the pimp Gallus will shortly awaken, to the starting-post.

One swing brought her to the pad, and another placed before her one whom the light of the faint moon exhibited without a bend in his body or beard on his chin. Away they set--

"On, on they rade, and farther on-- The steed gaed swifter than the wind-- Until they reach'd a desert wide, And living land was left behind."

Not a word pa.s.sed between the couple. The one was occupied spurring on the steed, and the other clung to him, as if love had nerved her arms, and made them as tenacious of the grasp of his waist as Lenora, of German celebrity, was of the soulless body of her Wilhelm. Sometimes he slackened his pace, to ascertain whether the guidman of Kelpiehaugh was up and away in quest of runaway bride, like the Graemes after the heiress of Netherby, over Cann.o.bie-lee; and then, when he thought he heard the clatter of a horse's hoof, he applied the spur again, and away they went, over moss and muir, with such speed as love and fear in the rider may alone impart to the obedient steed. At other times, the s.p.a.ce of a few minutes was devoted to soft whispers, and the gallant pressed the encircling arms of his fair one, and sighed as he felt her embrace as tight as a lover's heart could wish. He was as happy as one who is on the verge of the enjoyment of stolen pleasures can be in a world where lawful indulgences had no zest for him; and he turned his head for the m.u.f.fled kiss, which was granted as freely as any rieving lover, even Lochinvar himself or Jock o' Hazeldean, could have desired. Nor less was he pleased with the pressure of her fair arms, which accompanied or followed the other demonstrations of her affection, and the speed of his steed, now safe, as he thought himself, from all pursuit, was quickened, that he might reach the goal, where all the joys of a long-sighed-for possession awaited him. At length he gave his horse breathing-time, and, taking himself a long inspiration--

"When, think ye, Mary," said he, "I will send for the six steers I purchased from your father yesterday?"

"Maybe never, Robert," was the whispered reply.

"You say right, love. It was never my intention," said he. "I thought it but fair to leave old Giles some consideration for his daughter."

A squeeze was the expression of the grat.i.tude felt by the female for the boon so generously bestowed on the farmer of Kelpiehaugh.

"Was I known, think ye?" he continued. "I liked not the sharp eye of your mother. By my faith! I quailed under it. The devil an ancient carlin duenna in an old romance ever observed so sharp a look-out for the safety of her ward. But, ha! ha! Mary, we have outwitted the old dame, and let her catch us now, if she can. We want only two miles of Langholm, and then, hey! hey! and be merry, as the song says--

'Now all this time let us be merry, And set nocht by this world a cherry.'

Safe in my house at Langholm, Mary, let Giles and his old dame enjoy the bargain they have got. They may sell the steers at the next fair of St Boswell's; but I will not so soon part with my Mary."

"Na, I hope not," replied the whispering female. "But hearna ye the sounds of a horse's feet?"

The lover turned his head.

"Your father, by the rood!" cried he; and, clapping spurs again to his horse, they set off at a quick gallop, with a view to distance their pursuer, who was no other than Giles Ramsay himself, mounted on one of his quickest plough-horses, and brandishing a huge cudgel, in the double act of beating his nag and threatening vengeance on the fugitives.

The pursued were now in danger of being overtaken; for the greater speed of the hunter was counterbalanced by the greater burden, and it was clearly a cast-up whether they would be able to escape the vengeance that awaited them. But, whatever might be the issue, there was no want of energy in either hand or heel of the abductor; and he lashed and spurred his steed more furiously as his fears increased--

"Still looking the sidelong woods among, Before, around him, and behind; And aye, whene'er the echo rung, The steed flew swifter than the wind."

And no less energetic was the fearful pursuer, whose hearty thwacks upon the curpan of his s.h.a.ggy cart-tracer, mixed with loud halloos, might be heard in the distance, awakening the echoes of the silent night. The lover relished not the appearance, and still less the cries, of the l.u.s.ty farmer; and as little apparently did his companion--who, as the horse increased his speed, grasped her abductor round the waist--wish to fall into the hands of the enraged pursuer. Away they scoured, and, "Fear not, Mary--love will distance the old churl," fell from the lips of the panting lover, in reply to the inspiring pressure of her arms; while, "Na, na, Robert, flee for the love o' heaven," added more energy to the spur, and more pa.s.sion to his breast. They reached the skirts of the woody Langholm; but it was not the abductor's intention to stop at his residence, while he was in danger of being overtaken; so, striking to the left, and dashing into a _corrie_, or deep lirk of a hill, he stretched on with the flight of desperation. His wish was to clear the fern brae, as the height was called, and, getting into the thick wood at the back, make a sudden turn, and elude the quick eye of the farmer; but the latter kept dashing and bounding on, hallooing in the distance, and still brandishing his oaken ryss, in the most fearful demonstrations of a vengeance that would be contented with nothing less, apparently, than the body of the one, and the life of the other. Still the fond female turned her eyes behind, and, giving her companion reports of the progress of the pursuer, kept up his energies and alive his spirit.

"All the work of that accursed old duenna, your mother," muttered he.

"Ay, ay, nae doot, nae doot," rejoined she, and hugged him again more closely than ever. The turn of the fern hill did not seem, however, to bring the relief which it promised, for the couple were still within hail of the redoubted Giles; and his shouting reverberated among the rocks like the tally-ho of the hunter, or rather like the deep-mouthed bay of the pack.

But here a more extraordinary phenomenon presented itself, and that was an accession of strength to the st.u.r.dy Giles of no fewer than three hors.e.m.e.n, who, probably attracted by his war-whoop, had tendered their services in endeavouring to overtake and seize the fugitives. This circ.u.mstance was proclaimed by a united cry of the whole pursuers, which rung in the ears of the lover like the howl which met the Florentine on his visit to the region of the wicked in Hades. There was, however, more in the appearance of the strangers, as seen in the light of the now bright moon, than in their war-shout that carried dismay to the breast of the abductor. What this was, he told not; but his muttering of "Who can have brought him and his servants to this part of the country at this time?" satisfied his companion that he knew the individuals who had thus opportunely joined the cause of the farmer; and now, if indeed that were possible, he urged his panting steed forward at a still quicker pace. His chance of escape was diminishing every moment. The horses of the a.s.sistants were fleeter than those of the farmer; and, if he did not succeed in overtaking the fugitives, it was too evident that they would accomplish for him the object he had in view. The lover seemed doubtful what he should do--whether still to press on, lay down his charge, or make a sweep round the hill, and take refuge in Langholm. A clump of trees now intervening between him and the party, he appeared to resolve suddenly on the last manoeuvre; and his reason probably was, that he might have time to secrete his fair one among some of the outhouses of the mansion before the pursuers came up. Acting upon this resolution, he turned the head of his horse, swept in by the tail of the height, struck into a loan, and, after a rapid run of a few minutes, was opposite to the house of Langholm.

"Quick! quick, Mary! jump and follow me," he cried, as he took her in his arms. "This way," and he flew first to one door and then another.

They were shut, and he had no alternative left but to take his fair charge into the mansion itself. Rushing up-stairs, and dragging after him his abducted love, he reached a small bedroom, thrust her into it, shut the door, locked it, and returned to face boldly his pursuers. By the time he arrived at the landing-place, his horse had sought the stable; and there was no apparent sign, save his appearance there at that hour, of his having been engaged in the unlawful undertaking for which he had been so hotly pursued.

"I have paid well for my love-errantry," said he, as he took a handkerchief, and wiped the sweat from his face. "There is not another beauty in Scotland for whom I would have toiled as I have now done. Have I given them the slip? Mayhap I may, unless I am right in that fearful conjecture, suggested by the appearance of my strange pursuers."

"Ho, there!" cried the voice of a man, rushing up on horseback. "What is this, Robert?"

"My father!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the youth; "what has brought you from Craigton at this hour?"

"Robert! Robert!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed a voice from a bedroom window, at that moment drawn up--"why have you placed a woman in my bedroom, and locked her in?"

"Is that you, my love?" rejoined the father, in answer to the cry of his wife. "Why, here is some infernal mystery. Your mother and I arrived here to-day. We heard you were at St Boswell's, and I left her here that I might go and join you at the market. Now I have returned to witness a scene that baffles all my wits. Here is a man who has a claim upon you which your mother corroborates by her extraordinary inquiry."

The cavalcade at that moment came up--Giles in the rear, still brandishing his rung, and muttering incoherent threats against the abductor. The youth was surrounded: his father cried for information, his mother screamed from the window. Giles demanded rest.i.tution, and the voice of the abducted female was heard in shrill tones over all.