And though, over and over again, the sound of my singing would bring women, old and young, to the open doors of their cottages, my hungering eyes never caught a sight of that face for which they longed. Sometimes a girl, standing in the doorway, pitying my poor attempt at melody, would join her voice to mine and lend to my singing a beauty that it lacked; but though my ears were ever alert for the lute-like voice of Mary, they were never gladdened by the sound for which they ached.
And once on a day I stood blinded by tears beside the ruins of Daldowie.
Day followed day, and still I wandered on. Week after week found my quest still fruitless, and at last I stood upon the confines of the land where the sea expends its futile thunder upon the black rocks by Corsewall point. I had reached the uttermost limit of the journey I had set myself, and my journey had been in vain. So, with a heavy heart, I turned, crushing down the sudden desire that had risen within me to make an end of it all by hurling myself into the sea. The temptation was sore upon me--for life gaped empty before me--but something within me shouted "Coward," and I crushed the impulse down.
On my homeward way I made greater speed than I had done upon my outgoing. Still I searched, and still my search was vain. At last when April had come with laughter and tears and all her promise of summer, I was within sight of Dumfries once more.
I had cause to remember Dumfries. I knew that within its gates danger might await me, but danger had ceased to have any terrors for my stricken heart. At the most, discovery could only mean death, and death was preferable to a life without her whom I loved. When the town came within view I quickened my steps and in the late afternoon I descended the hill that led down to the bridge. As I approached it I was tempted to turn aside and seek the house of Phemie McBride at once, for I remembered Hector's parting words; but some impulse to stand again upon the spot where Fate had descended upon me, all bloody in the uniform of a Sergeant of Dragoons, drove me onward.
When I reached the bridge I stepped into the little alcove where aforetime my destiny had been so strangely moulded, and leaning over looked down upon the rushing stream. My eyes followed the water as it flowed into the distance. Suddenly my gaze was arrested by a crowd which I saw coming along the Sands. At such a distance I was unable to see clearly, but I could make out mounted men and the gleam from their trappings told me they were dragoons. In their wake was a crowd, and as I watched I saw it grow steadily. Men and women and children dashed out of the streets and alleys which opened on to the Sands and joined the rabble behind the troopers. Discretion bade me have a care, but curiosity impelled me and I crossed the bridge and descended to the Sands. Already a throng of folk who had seen, in the distance, the approaching company of troopers, had begun to assemble and I mingled myself with them. The soldiers were advancing at a walking pace and from this and the presence of the rabble at their heels I knew that they had prisoners. Ere long the sound of the horses' hoofs was audible and rumour began to be busy among the people around me.
"What's a' the steer?" asked a woman who had just joined the crowd, her shawl slipping back from her head on to her shoulders. Her question was addressed to the crowd, and out of it somebody made answer.
"It's the troopers. They say they've ta'en twa Covenanters, a man and a woman, somewhere ayont the Kingholm."
Steadily at a march the soldiers approached us. With necks craned eagerly forward we tried to get a glimpse of the prisoners.
"Wha are they?" asked a voice; but to this there was no answer, for the cavalcade was almost upon us. Just as it came to the Port of Vennel the officer turned in his saddle and rapped out a few words of command. The company divided into two, the front half coming to a halt, and I saw that tied to the stirrup leather of one of the troopers was a man. Wheeling to the right, without pause, the second half of the company continued its march. The crowd broke and ran across the intervening space to catch a closer glimpse of the female prisoner. Almost against my will I was carried on by the surge of the people. I could not see the woman's face, but the sunlight fell upon her hair, and--God in heaven! it was chestnut brown, and over her forehead, where the light struck it, it shone like burnished gold. My heart shouted within me, but something--was it the finger of God?--was laid upon my lips and they were still. Rudely flinging men and women aside, I sprang forward that I might see the woman's face. It was Mary in very deed--Mary, in the hands of the persecutors, beautiful as a flower, pride in the poise of her head, courage in her dauntless eyes.