The fugitives had now proceeded upon a long and wearisome journey after their departure from the cavern, which had so opportunely afforded them shelter and protection. Lonely, depressed, and overpowered by overwhelming grief, self-accusation, and great bodily exertion, solitary stood the noble, but unhappy Bruce, on the desolate shores of his native land; while close stationed by him stood his brave and faithful preserver, his sturdy and affectionate foster-brother, the intrepid, the honest, the disinterested Malcolm.
It was night,—an autumnal storm loudly raged, the clouds darkly were drifted onward with increased rapidity through a perturbed sky; the roaring waves of a tumultuous sea mounted upwards in alpine altitude and curvature, as they dashed and foamed along; whose mournful, sullen scream, responded not to mortal voice, although the sad measure seemed to partake both of sorrow and of woe; if indeed that human suffering and mortal woe could be supposed as associated with that treacherous and tempestuous element.
In the distance distinctly were heard the report of various musket shots, discharged by the hackbutteers,[15] but at intervals only they were heard. Whether these explosions were intended as a military tribute of a faithful clan over the body of a fallen chieftain, or whether they were intended as an excitement to pursuit, (probably the latter,) could not with any positive certainty be ascertained. However, the continued clangor of pursuing cavalry, and the loud, incessant tramping of foot soldiers, who had proceeded with precipitance over crags and rocks, and still unwearied in their pursuit, were audibly heard to approach. It was too evident that all this loud uproar and wild halloo which had prevailed, arose from the violent voice and shout of those who pertinaciously pursued, and who were still pressing upon the flight of the unhappy fugitive.
However, in another direction came on, yet with silent, cautious tread, several faithful adherents, armed with dirk, targe, and claymore, who advanced to the beach, not as blood-hounds to pursue, but as friends to assist; not basely to track the steps of the noble fugitive, but with might and with main to protect him, and cover his flight. This faithful, small, but boldly determined clan, bore lanterns to assist the projects which they had planned, which dimly flung a flickering reddish light around.
This gallant band came on fully resolved to save their chieftain—to rescue him from surrounding perils, or to die! Sir David looked wildly and inquisitively at them; but by no interrogatory he dared to break the more than mortal silence which seemed to seal their lips. No, he shrunk back in despair, fearing to question them; he too justly dreaded that to be, which he would have forfeited his own life not to have been! Dread despair palsied his voice, and held him back from what he fain would ask—"Was his brother among the dead or the living?" The dreadful response that might be returned, made him forego his purpose. He could not—would not—dared not to inquire; it was not to be attempted; and his brain seemed maddened when he thought thereon. His heart was chilled, and his blood slowly pulsated; his lip quivered, and his tongue was silent. However with a silent, but inquisitive gaze and gesture, he sought that fearful information which he dared not—could not ask; these, however, were appeals that could be neither mistaken nor misunderstood. He sought the fearful answer from the plaided clan, whose tall and commanding figures, although dimly and indistinctly seen beneath the pale moon-beams of a stormy sky, and whatever illumination their lanterns afforded, yet observed the earnest appeal: and he is answered as he sought it, in awful silence and impressive dumb show, each of the clan slowly folding around him his plaid, and then one and all in the same moment joining in united action of a mournful and impressive motion of the head. When all rapidly dashing aside their plaids, with fierce and impressive energy they point their out-stretched hands to the foaming waves, intimating thereby that there alone safety was to be found.
Now near, and still more near, too audibly are heard the renewed sounds of advancing foes; the breeze wafting on the appalling and yelling shouts of pursuit; and next followed the loud and deafening tramps of the pursuers. No time—not a moment—was to be lost——death or immediate flight was the alternative!—Some bold, decisive act, was now to be dared, and on the instant done!
The stormy clouds, which in rapid succession hitherto had thrown their dark floating shadows over the disk of an autumnal moon, at this instant favourably dispersed, and the "pale queen of night" burst forth in pearly radiance, glancing her friendly beams upon a fishing bark which lay at anchor beneath an indented shelve of rocks, close by to where the fugitives stood; and at no remote distance a small cottage stood close to the beach, to the owner of which, in all probability, the boat belonged. This seemed most likely to be the fact, from their observation of the fishing-nets, gear, and tackle, all elucidatory of a fisherman's pursuits, which lay outspread upon the shore, clearly designating the uncertain and perilous occupation of the lonely proprietor of this humble dwelling. Upon this discovery the vassals proposed to their chieftain to knock at the door of the cottage, and awake the fisherman. But to this suggestion the generous Bruce would not hearken; he would not endanger the life of a poor and innocent man, probably the sole supporter of his family, in the dread and desperate fortunes of a fugitive—and alas, more than too probably a fratricide!
Thus having impetuously and decisively spoken, David Bruce having flung his purse into a broken aperture of the lattice window, sprung manfully into the fishing bark, and the faithful Malcolm instantly sprang in after his master. Next with fatal, feudal attachment, the vassals advanced, and crowded into the boat, regardless of all remonstrance and reproof, and seemingly insensible of the peril occasioned by thus overloading the fishing skiff.
The storm had for the present abated; which cessation, however, was but of temporary duration. The pursuers meanwhile advanced, with loud and appalling screams, and formed their ranks in martial array upon the beach, the war-pipes loudly pealing forth a pibroch; they next proceeded, having piled their arms, to light their torches from lanterns which, with due precaution, they had borne with them; and soon their ignited torches were applied, which after some little delay, occasioned by the moisture of the storm, the ignition took effect, when brilliantly blazed forth, in crackling flames, the extended ridges of furze, fern, bent-grass, &c., that crowned the lofty links which girdled the undulating summits of the shore. The different plants had been dried up by a summer sun, and parched and ripened by the autumnal blast; and the ignition soon extended along the entire line of the coast. The central part of the conflagration flamed in the distance like to some lofty castle on fire, and flanked, as the deception would represent, by two large towers, which were in effect two large flaming masses of furze and other various shrubs, which, now with a flaming—now with a flickering corruscation, actually seemed like two bale-fires blazing on the headlands. The whole mass having become one continued conflagration, assumed an awfully grand appearance; the ruddy sky brilliantly flamed above, the waves returned the fiery flash below, as the waves undulated to and fro. The fugitives but too distinctly saw the weapons raised in their offence boldly brandishing on the shore, and vengefully flashing forth their quivering gleams, accompanied with loud, fierce, and appalling shouts of vengeance from the bold, determined band, who occupied the shore.