I spoke heartily, but in truth I was far from feeling such ease of mind. For my old cursed pride was coming back, and I was beginning to chafe against the beggarly trade of skulking among the moors when I had a fine heritage for my own, and above all when I was a scholar and had thoughts of a peaceful life. I found it hard to reconcile my dream of a philosophic life wherein all things should be ordered according to the dictates of reason, with the rough and ready times which awaited me, when my sword must keep my head, and my first thought must be of meat and lodging, and cunning and boldness would be qualities more valuable than subtle speculation and lofty imagining.
In a little we were rested and rode on our way. Across the great moors of Crawfordjohn we passed, which is a place so lonely that the men in these parts have a proverb, "Out of the world and into Crawfordjohn." We still kept the uplands till we came to the springs of a burn called the Glespin, which flows into the Douglas Water. Our easier path had lain down by the side of this stream past the little town of Douglas. But in the town was a garrison of soldiers—small, to be sure, and feeble, but still there—who were used to harry the moors around Cairntable and Muirkirk. So we kept the ridges till below us we saw the river winding close to the hill and the tower of Smitwood looking out of its grove of trees. By this time darkness was at hand, and the last miles of our journey were among darkening shadows. We had little fear of capture now, for we were on the lands of the castle, and Veitch of Smitwood was famed over all the land for a cavalier and a most loyal gentleman. So in quiet and meditation we crossed the stream at the ford, and silently rode up the long avenue to the dwelling.
CHAPTER IX
I PART FROM MARJORY
"I've travelled far and seen many things, but, Gad, I never saw a stranger than this. My niece is driven out of house and home by an overbold lover, and you, Master Burnet, come here and bid me take over the keeping of this firebrand, which, it seems, is so obnoxious to His Majesty's lieges."
So spake the old laird of Smitwood, smiling. He was a man of full eighty years of age, but still erect with a kind of soldierly bearing. He was thin and tall, and primly dressed in the fashion of an elder day. The frosty winter of age had come upon him, but in his ruddy cheek and clean-cut face one could see the signs of a hale and vigorous decline. He had greeted us most hospitably, and seemed hugely glad to see Marjory again, whom he had not set eyes on for many a day. We had fallen to supper with keen appetite, for the air of the moors stirs up the sharpest hunger; and now that we had finished we sat around the hall-fire enjoying our few remaining hours of company together. For myself I relished the good fare and the warmth, for Heaven knew when either would be mine again. The high oak-roofed chamber, hung with portraits of Veitches many, was ruddy with fire-light. Especially the picture in front of the chimney by Vandyke, of that Michael Veitch who died at Philiphaugh, was extraordinarily clear and lifelike. Master Veitch looked often toward it; then he took snuff with a great air of deliberation, and spoke in his high, kindly old voice.
"My brother seems well to-night, Marjory. I have not seen him look so cheerful for years." (He had acquired during his solitary life the habit of talking to the picture as if it were some living thing.) "I can never forgive the Fleming for making Michael hold his blade in so awkward a fashion. Faith, he would have been little the swordsman he was, if he had ever handled sword like that. I can well remember when I was with him at Etzburg, how he engaged in a corner two Hollanders and a Swiss guard, and beat them back till I came up with him and took one off his hands."
"I have heard of that exploit," said I. "You must know that I have just come from the Low Countries, where the names of both of you are still often on men's lips."
The old man seemed well pleased.
"Ah," he said, "so you have come from abroad. In what place did you bide, may I enquire?"