As a rule he was reticent regarding his past life and spoke of it in only a general way. On one occasion he had been more communicative. Gervase had become perfectly convalescent and was able to move about without being supported, the fever having entirely disappeared, and his strength having returned in some considerable degree. They were sitting together discussing the various plans by which they might reach Londonderry, and Macpherson´s brows were drawn into a curious frown, as always happened when he was engaged in deep thought.
“Could we,” he said, “come haply on a garron, the thing were as good as done; I doubt not we shall find one to our hand as we proceed, and in the meantime you will ride Bayard while I tramp as best I can. I have done as much before, and with a little strategy, which is just and necessary we shall be able to satisfy all civil inquiries.”
“´Tis out of the question,” Gervase answered. “Turn and turn will I take if you will; and it may be that this passport of De Laprade´s will be of some service after all, though I do not think the rogues we may meet will care much for aught but a strong arm and the sword´s point.”
“´Tis a curious document,” said Macpherson, spreading it out before him and laying his open palm upon it. “I am not a great scholar, but I think no man could tell in what language it was written, or what may be its purport. Even his name has so fallen to vinous pieces that ´tis impossible to pick up the fragments. But I think he hath a good heart, a very good heart.”
“That I will answer for,” said Gervase, “and I will answer for it also that you are rejoiced that you did not harm him. I was not brought up to understand his ways, but I know he is brave as a lion and true as steel; and what a handsome fellow he is!”
“Pooh! wax and paint. I have seen too many pretty fellows to care for the tribe. But he is as you say, I doubt not, though he be a Frenchman--for which latter reason I do not love him.”
“Still, it is no reason why you should hate him.”
“I know not that; the narrow seas divide us for some wise reason, and we speak with different tongues for a purpose. I have lived too long with Frenchmen not to love my own country best. God forbid, however, that I should hate any, though it is permitted to hate their works. He is, as you say, a gallant fellow. I remember when I was of an age with him, I thought as little of the end whereunto all life tends, and wine and women were the gods I worshipped. The devil is a liberal paymaster but he pays in his own currency; I have a bagful of his ducats.”
“Then you carry them easily,” said Gervase, feeling that he was treading on tender ground.
“That do I not. Alas; memory will not die; we cannot slay it even with prayer, though we may fall back on that to help us to bear the pain. Why I should talk thus to you I know not, but the spirit prompts me, and ´tis ever safe to follow its promptings. I shall open for you one of the pages that I have striven to tear out of the book of my life, and failing in that, to blot out with the tears of penitence and contrition--haply in vain. ´Twas in ´64, and the April of that year I was in the service of the Elector of Brandenburg, and we were quartered at Spandau. Our company was wicked enough, but I think none could touch me in all manner of iniquity. We drank deep, quarrelled and fought at will, and rejoiced greatly in fearing not God nor regarding man. I knew my work as a soldier, and men said I had some skill in the art of war. Howbeit I had got some preferment which I held lightly enough, as I cared but little whom I served as long as there was wine in the measure and women for the asking. One man I was drawn toward in a special manner, for we had both known better things and had some sorrow together when our cups were spilt, and the headache and heartache came in the morning. Jack Killigrew (for he was an Englishman, and well born, as I have since learnt) should have been a parson, but the devil set him trailing a pike and drinking deep as the rest of us. After a while I noticed a change in his ways, which change I could not well understand at first, but soon I discovered. He drank no more, foreswore the dicebox, would not beat up the town, and I shrewdly suspected took to saying his prayers in secret. Then one day he made his confession--I laughed loud enough thereat--that he was in love with the daughter of the Protestant parson outside the city gates. He would not rest satisfied until I had gone thither with him, and in an evil hour I consented. Beware, boy, of women; avoid them like the pestilence, and trust not the fairest. Delilah, Jezebel, and Herodias, these are but samples of the smiling, treacherous, beautiful devils that go up and down on the earth to catch men´s souls in a silken snare. Annchen was of the same order but carried her wickedness more demurely. Poor Jack gave her all his heart, and the little vixen was not content therewith, but needs must have mine too. And mine she had, ay, and my soul too--all, all.”