CHAPTER XXXIII.
HOW JOHN McCOOK HEARS OF THE PLOY AT THE CLATES.
There is a fate that stalks in the hills and plays with the lives of the folk in the valleys. "You will stop with your mother,"—these were the words that Helen gave her serving-man, John McCook, that night she rode with Bryde, and McCook stayed for a little in his mother's house, and then, being young and of good spirit, he made his way to the inn to be seeing his friends. And he sat with them in McKelvie's place above the quay, and now and then when Robin would be bringing drink into a room a little apart, he would be hearing gusts of laughter, and whiles the snatches of words.
And McCook was wanting to know who would be in the room, to be telling his news when he reached Scaurdale, and he moved his stool so that his ear was near to the crack of the door, and he could see a little into the place. There was great company in that room—McGilp and Dan McBride were there, and Ronald McKinnon and his son Angus, and two or three of the men of the old names who would be sailor-men too, and there was great argument, for the men would be sailing their boats, and their glasses on the table representing the sloops. Once there came high voices and deep oaths when a Kelso luffed his vessel so close to his rival's that he spilled Charleach Ian's glass, but Rob McKelvie righted the vessel and loaded her again with spirits, and the racing would be continued.
As the time went on the voices were none so loud, but still he could hear, and it was Ronny McKinnon that was speaking most, and the tale that came to McCook was this:—
"There would be folk at the South End," said Ronald, "bien folk of his own name some of them, and the harvest was very good for this year, and there would be a considerable of spirit and salt to be taken across quietly. It will be hidden well," said Ronald, "at the Cleiteadh mor, and the Gull will be there in the offing, and send her boats ashore. There will be none to expect a ploy that night, for it will be the night that Hugh McBride will be married on the English lady, and that will be a diversion."
For, indeed, on such an occasion the half of a parish would be merry with the eating of hens and drinking of spirit, and the piping and dancing.
"I will be there," said Dan, "and my son Bryde. It's long since I will have been at the smuggling," and then there came singing of Gaelic songs that you can be hearing yet, and at that McCook took off his dram and went out at the door, for he would be early on the road the next day.
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There is a fate that stalks in the hills and plays with the lives of the folk in the valley.