And ere we were well past the Foul Alley there were twenty men on horseback to chase the murderers, with John Kennedy of Balterson at their head. But they might as well have chased the wind, for by this time, with the relays of horse that had been ordered for them, they were safe among the wild Crauford country on the borders of Kyle.
Of the sad homecoming to Culzean itself I declare I cannot write at length. At the entering in of the woodland I left them, and upon Dom Nicholas I rode drearily forward to do the bitterest day's work of my life—to tell Helen Kennedy that I brought only her father's corpse home with me.
And, as the chance befell, it was at least half-a-mile before I reached the home gate of Culzean, just where one sees for the first time the grey turrets sitting against the dimpled blue of the incoming tide, that I was aware of Nell Kennedy coming light-foot towards me, singing a catch of a song and swaying a flourish of sweet may-blossom daintily in her hand. I have never rightly loved the white hawthorn since that day. But as soon as she saw me she stopped her song and clutched her fingers close upon her palm, for the flowery branch had fallen at her feet.
'What is wrong?' she cried, when I came near to her. But I could not answer till I had leaped from Dom Nicholas and taken her by the hand. She turned round, keeping me at the stretch of her arm so that she might read the news, good or bad, in my eyes.
'Is it my father? Tell me,' she said very calmly.
'Nell, it is your father,' I said as quietly. 'They set upon him and hurt him, even when he had sent me on a little way before him that he might be alone at his mid-day meditation—'
'Is he dead—tell me—is he dead?' she broke in. But I answered her not; for I could not. So she knew, and in an instant grew as pale and still as the man that was passed from us.
'Take me to him,' she said at length. And, seeing that I still hesitated, she said, 'Do not fear for me. I will do all that a daughter of Culzean should do.'
'They are bringing him hither now,' I said. 'I came hasting to tell you. The feet of the horses that carry him are even now upon the brae.'
Then, when I had told her all, I ended the tale with my tears and with crying out that which was in my heart, 'Oh, would to God I had died instead of him!'