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Next Week; The Spinster’s Thanksgiving
\....... ..__ By Harriet Prescott Spoffon
I j ' . Vr r </ ^* W -
A GRAY place, in sooth, Edinburgh town seemed
*° me, fresh from the sunshine and gay
A""ft colors of France; and it was a bleak wind
that came hurtling up the steep street when
I reached the corner of the Canongatc. Yet
» • # my heart was blithe enough, for*was I not
back in my long dreamed-of native land;
and I my own master for the first time In twenty
years!
Tn St. Germains and Versailles, as yon may guess,
a lad in the Gendarmes Etossais, with his mother's
brother keeping guardian's watch over him tlie while,
sips of liberty so little that he scarce knows the taste
of it upon his tongue. And further, if all I lad heard
\ of him were true, my noble father was little like to
give me doucely the run of my youth once I got be
neath those smoky rafters of Craigmalloch I dimly
recollected from the hours of childhood.
So this week which I allowed myself in Auld Reekie
was stolen, as it were, from rightful authority; all by
^ the good fortune of a marvellous favorable wind that
^^ ran us into Leith harbor so many days before our
% ^^computation.
V Now, says I to myself, shall I break my fast in
some merry tavern? and after that—why, I'll'go with
the wind, says I, just as a gust caught me
Even as I paused, a youth swung by me. lie was
followed at a little distance by a couple of serving men.
The arrogant glance, the tilt of the head, the pride
of his. carriage, the fashion in which the youth eyed,
me passing, as if it were my duty to make way for
him, spoke eloquently enough. I turned and stared,
after the three a moment or two and started in,pur-;
* suit, down the High Street once more.
My lad of the rowan-sprig made a straight course
of it for a while. Just before Reaching the Nether
Cow, he suddenly veered down a wynd on the right,
with his retainers in full tramp behind. I drew up
close and thought myself fortunate indeed when I saw
that the cellar entrance into which they presently
plunged was that of a tavern; the sign was painted
over the door, "The Fox and Grapes.”
I clattered down in my turn and swaggered into the
house with as good an imitation-of my guide's con
quering grace as I /route! muster in the uncertainty
of my passage through unaccustomed 'gloom. A lusty
wench, that brought back memories of childhood and
my Highland nurse, received me. She motioned me to
a solitary table, and then requested my will.
With the tail of my eye on Master Rowan-sprig, I
ordered at hazard the messes she suggested in her
pretty, insinuating way. Meanwhile he, who was evi
dently master of the establishment, a burly, elderly
i:r.i.n, attended to the wants of his more important
pv.ron. But I, intent in watching, wts quick to appre-
1 <-nd that they conversed earnestly together, and that
i ilMhfc Gaelic, in which tongue I was*not as proficient .
■ . my uncle Craigmalloch would have wished. Thus,
■ tlie drift of their speech escaped me; yet I could not
f be mistaken that both looked towards me ever and
anon, sharply, and as though expectantly. Finally,
loudly, and in English, the host said:
“And I have not forgotten your honor’s liking,"
and caught up from a cupboard, a flagon, darkly in-*
crusted and cobwebbed.
"A man cannot have too good wine for a good;
toast,” cried Master Rowan-sprig. His voice had a
bright, imperious ring that echoed gratefully in my
ear. Again he flung a look at me, which I returned
as bravely and as invitingly as I plight. I was burn
ing to have my knees under the same board, and clink,
a glass with one who bad taken my youthful fancy as
freshly as the spring wind.
“And what wine will your honor wish?” said the
soft voice of the girl in my car.
'Til have,” said I, starting round to her, "a bottle
from the same bin as yonder gentleman.”
Her pale eyes grew round. She hesitated, looked
almost frightened.
•"The old clary?”
• "Why not, my love?” and with the corner of my
glance upon my hero, who sat, his hand encircling a
brimming glass, fixing me now very steadily. "Why
not, if .wine be measured here by toasts, shall not my
glass be of the best?”
"I believe," said he, "the old clary is growing scarce.
And, indeed, when heads should be clear, 'tin better
to share a bottle than to drain it alone—however
good—the toast!”
My answer need scarce be recorded. I made him
my best French bow. In a twinkling my desire was
accomplished, I was stretching my legs under the same
table as those arrogant limbs that had swung his coat
skirts as if they had been the free kilt; I was clinking
my glass—my hand trembled—with that held by his
steady fingers.
i “Take my lads to the kitchen, Duncan,” said the
j young chieftain, "and give them their due fill, but no
f more. And as this gentleman and I evidently have
B matters to talk over we will profit at once of your .
v empty hour."
The instant we were alone, my entertainer lifted his
glass; and his bright hazel eyes deep in mine: "From
St. Germains?” he said in a sharp whisper.
"From St. Germains.” I said, "to .Holyrood.”
• Hereupon the watchful intensity, that sat so curiously
on his boyish face, vanished. He drew a deep breath.
"So may it be,” he cried solemnly and I realized that
his toast was no other than a proper, loyal one, upon
which, none being more loyal than myzelf, I thought
myself hound to look mighty lenowing, to echo, "So
may it be."
"You landed this morning?” queried he.
“Aye,” quoth I, with mortification, thinking I must
indeed bear "foreigner” stamped in my hair.
"You’re before time,” he added, drawing his watch.
"Aye,” said I, speaking of the fair winds; ”’tis all
t piece of mighty luck.”
^Luck?” echoed he, with a quick frown, Twould
be a dangerous comrade to trust! I marked you. Sir,
from the first, in the Lawnmarkct.”
"And I you, sir," cried I, flattered out of my sus
picions. 1 uttered a few words about the delay of my
meal at which his temper seemed to rise. Controlling
himself with an.effort, he added:
"You are right to he cautious, no doubt. But
surely—” Again he paused, and leaned across to me.
"Did all go off well? Was the landing safe?”
"Why, doubtless.” I laughed, "since l am here."
"And he?”—his lips were nearly on my ear.
"He—r” I echoed; and from sheer vagueness,
laughed again.
By the rood, you are young to be sc cautious!” he
said constrainedly. "Let us exchange credentials be
fore another word passes."
I. deemed this a fair openihg, at last, for the smooth
ing of matters out between us; and my smile was in
gratiating as I answered him:
"Wil'ingly, my dear sir, so that you gratify me first
with your credentials."
This answer seemed to fill him with indignation.
"Impostor!” he shouted. "Spy !*' and was r.t rnv
throat.
We had a silent death grapple; and then I .shook
him off. He raised a second screech before he was
for ine again:
"Duncan! Robbie! Here, lads!—A spy! A
Traitor!”
Whether jt was the meanness of his calling for aid
when lie had only one to deal with, or whether that
tussle for sheer life had roused the fighting devil with-
Conceive me, then, introduced into an apartment at
the. top of the mansion. The lady, mere girl as she
was, seemed mistress of the establishment. At the top
most passage, an old woman in a white cap tnct us
and flung out her hand with a quavering gesture of
inquiry.
"Aye, Mcenie.' said my guide, "the visitor has come."
Whereupon the other dropped in obeisance:
"Glory lie to God, Miss Rachel!" she cried.
Together, they brought me into flic guest chamber,
with a delicate reverence that shames me even
now to think on, and there they left me. 1 let
myself drop into the great carved oak chair, with its
high hack and blazoned tapestry, glad of the solitude,
trying to think, to plan. Yet there was but one course
left open to me.
"I shall make a clean breast of the whole story,”
said I to myself. "She will forgive me; my name
will be warrant for me; none of my house were ever
doubted.” ~~
fore this!" I folded the sheet, scaled and addressed It:
‘ For Ihe hand of
"MISS RACHEL DRUMMOND
in this house."
My task accomplished, a new calm, descended on my
spirit. The great belt of St. Giles was striking some
hour—three said my watch.
It was a good hour for my escape. Tiptoe I crept
about the room and extinguished the caudles already
guttering in their sockets. A small silver night-lamp
had been placed at the foot of the bed. I lit tlie wick;
it burned with a small demure glow. I stole to the
door.
On the very threshold my foot struck against a
harrier. Had my step been less timid, 1 must have
fallen across it. Instantly a figure reared itself into
what seemed to me giant stature. 1 saw a flushed
boyish countenance looking down at me; blinking in
the dim light, beneath a short crop of tousled yellow
hair.
Ip me—you have had it from me that my instincts are
quicker than my reason—but here a rage such as I had
known but seldom before in my lifetime canic upon me.
My sudden enemy had his blade out as he shouted.
T never knew how I closed with him, but the next
instant I had a weapon in my hand and had struck
with it. With a deep groan he staggered and then
fell across the table.
"Awa’ with ye!” cried a voice. It was the girl’s.
She clapped the door behind her and held it with both
hands.
I ran out of the Mack room, up the steps, into the
lane, and down ipto its deeper shadows. I fled at first
blindly, like the mere instinct of concealment.
After a while, however, an extraordinary lucidity
succeeded stupid panic. I halted a second and de
liberately took my bearings; then I doubled round the
first opening, traversed a net work ofi lanes, emerged
into an empty cdurt. Here I caught sight of a gap
ing doorway in a garden wall in which stood a woman
with a tartan shawl flung over her head, but not so
closely as to hide the powder of her massed-up curls.
As I approached she flung the door wide and, dropping
her tartan, stretched out both hands to me.
"Oh, come in, come ini” she cried. She spoke in a
sweet monotonous drawl; yet there was a desperate
urgency in her gesture. I hesitated. From bewilder
ment to bewilderment this day was leading me. She
caught my wrist with her little fine hand; it had
strength in it, but it was more the passion of her
gaze which compelled me. I let myself be drawn into
the enclosure and watched her close the door and push
the bolt. Then she stood with her back against It,
finger on lip, panting a little.
As I gazed stupidly t heard a rumor grow in the
street without and some shouting and running foot
steps pass up and beyond us, then drop away again
into the distant hum of the city. Still she stood a
moment or two—the taper finger at her pretty mouth,
laces and silks of her gown a-fluttering faintly with
her quickened breath.
"Would God,” I exclaimed bitterly, ”! had never
set foot on this treacherous shore—and it my own
land I”
She gave a cry like a hurt dove.
"Ah, no, Sir, It breaks my heart 1 Here you are on
loyal ground—your own ground—with your own. Oh,
we must have failed somehow in forethought and pru
dence, but not in devotion 1”
“No fear of treachery here," she «aid, "walk on, Sir,
and enter your house.” Then under her breath: "Oh,
my liege!” she said.
“Madam!” f exclaimed, the whole conception, as
absurd as it was dangerous and tragic, flashing at last
upon me—'"Madam. 1 cannot permit you—”
But freakish fate willed it otherwise There was a
shout once again in the street The old panic siezed me.
Bowing my head I set foot upon the tartan spread for
the son of a king, and entered upon that house of
loyalty.
She scratched at the door, like a deliberate mouse,
and came in, followed by old Mcenie who bore a tray
with wine and viands.
"You must forgive me,” she said, "that neither of
rny brothers is here to attend upon you. Julian is
abroad at the harbor side, watching, and Alistair has
just been brought home to us, sorely wounded.”
My teeth clicked suddenly against the glass. "Good
God!” I exclaimed, a horrible suspicion falling like a
cloud upon my brain.
"Yes," «t»id the girl, "there is a traitor at work some
where. > A spy, who pretended to be your messenger,
met Alistair at the appointed place and when unmasked
tried to murder him. They nave just brought him in
from the tavern. It is a dangerous wound, and he is
now unconscious.'*
"What a misfortune!” I stammered at last.
"Aye, indeed, for Alistair is the rjeverest of us all.
And the villian has escaped. The traitor!—oh, could
I but reach him!”
I turned my. head away. T think ? groaned.
At this she whispered something to the servant.
"Oh, you must rest," murmured Rachel then to
me: "Oh. I have done wrong to trouble you with our
trouble. You can sleep without a thought, to be strong
for to-morrow's great day. God is above us, the
cause is just, we are. your true servants.”
Then she eotirtcried d-cp liefore me. and, at she
rourtesied, kissed the hand that had shed her brother’s
Mood.
The room reeled with me. Confusedly, I Vaw her
withdraw backwards, sinking into a reverence, her silks
ballooning around .her and next I was alone.
1 took a taper* from its scorce and went to examine
my countenance in the mirror. I ought to have been
flattered to pass *o readily for one whose good lookfi
were a by-word. The personage for whom J was
here had hardly l»ccn seen in France these last years,
but every brown-eved, fair-skinned, well-knit slim lad
limit bear a family lo-.k, in a French wig. How
heartily I wished myself swarthy and ill-favored! I
flung me down on the huge bed; then, in * terror
lest I should sleep too deep, rose again and fell to
writing my confession for Rachel to read when I seas
far away. * I wrote a dozen letters, and none pleased
me. At length wearied brain and sore heart dictated
between them an abrupt statement of facts,* clear of
either self-entemution or penitence. After some hesi
tation I scrawled underneath: “Would I had died be-
COPYRIGHT not
WITH A DEEP CEOAN IIE STACCKRED AND THEN PELL
ACROSS Tilt: TABLE
"I trust your Highness will forgive," he said in a
voice ‘which, brought me, with a pang, back to the
tavern, "1 had fallen asleep at my post.”
'Truly,” I exclaimed with a bitter laugh, "I am
well guarded I”
"Aye,” aaid the giant simply; "had anyone sought
access to your Highness, it had been across my body!
Doe* your Highness require anything?”
I stammered from excuse to excuse. I was restless.
Had not keen able to sleep. Had bad a thought of
seeking fresh olr in the garden—
He was all eagerness. He would escort my High
ness. I answered him somewhat tartly that I had
changed my mind and desired above all things soli
tude.
Then, my heart misgiving me at the innocent,
abashed look on his countenance, being conscious, too.
that I was playing my part extremely ill, I added
hastily that I would he grateful for a glass of fair
water, for I was feverish.
I stood on the threshold ns he tramped down the
passage, hesitating upon a last mad hope; but the
thought of escape was useless for I was safely
guarded.
The lad begged me with great simplicity to retire
to bed, once again assuring me of the thoroughness
of the watch and ward. ! could have screamed at the
hideous irony of it all.
Julian was in my bedchamber again at the fir*t
streak of dawn. It seemed that I was to preside at
some secret meeting of my loyal adherents at this
early hour*’. As he was sparse of speech and I
ignorant of all I was supposed to know, it took much 1
guessing on my part to discover even «o much.
"My brother bids me tclj your Highness.!’ said hr,
"with his deep duty, that it is grievous to him not to
he present at the great meeting. But he Mds me add
that this morning your Highness will at last know his
friends.” It was a long speech for the hig lad—and
he recited it something as a child his task. Then as
, Julian glanced at me with surprise, muttering that our
time was .short, I turned to follow him, and my eye
caught sight of last night's letter, which I had clean
forgotten.
"I pray you," said I, on the impulse, "to give this
letter to your sister, when I am gone—or,” 1 added,
in a less assured tone, "if aught -should hap to me.”
Now conics that scene pf.niy life which, to look
back on is more like the cotifiision of a dream than
ulight that could ever have happened.
1 was conducted by Julian into a long room on the
ground floor. Some dozen people were grouped at
the end of it, conversing in low tones. As I entered,
silence fell. All ryes were upon me.
I saw Julian meant for me to advance; and I ad
vanced. All I saw wore the sprig of the rowan-herf-y
at their breasts.
The devil that had spoken for me before spoke up
now:
"Gentlemen/’ said I, “I am glad to be here among
ye. But it is given me to "understand that our time
Is short, it w'ould be best that , ye should speak first
ami tell me your plans, for I have come hither, I take
!♦, to do your will/*
v There was no reply.
1 "Prav, gentlemen—” I began again—and the true
Chevalier could scarce have delivered himself with a
finer mixture of urbanity and 1 command.
'As upon my entrance a quick silence fell upon them,
and into this silence came a voice. Rachel's voice. Like
the far lament of tjic pipe in the hills, it stole in pure
sweetness to my car; yet before I heard its message I
knew it spoke my doom.
"TreacheryI” it said. And again: "Treachery!”
—"We are betrayed, bestrayedl”
The cry came wailing towards us from the passage.
Now' she itood on the threshold, her delicate hand
on the sleeve of a young man who wept beside her in
silence. '
A second her eyes fixed upon me, as I sat and then
, —in her sweet singsong—she spoke again:
• "You are all betrayed, and it Is my fault! That man
—it was I brought him into your midst—he Is a spy.”
"Here is our Prince I”
' Clamor sprang up again; deep murmurs. Again
she controlled all. "First we must secure his safety.
That man has our secret, he must die."
"Pray gentlemen,” said the Prince very quietly, "put
up your swords. I do not wish to have blood spilt
in my presence.
"Mr. Drummond,” he added, then addressing Julian,
"will you give me the favor of your attention for a
kw moments apart?”'
Only Rachel, denchlijg and unclenching her little
hands, took yet a step nearer to me, and dropped her
sweet voiced hatred into .my ear:
"You must die, oh, you must did Don’t think you
can escape death I”. ..,
"I see my brother’s blood upon your hands!”
I would like to have uttered the words, "Kill me
then, you," but I was stricken .dumb by the rapid and
constant succession of evqnta. when a gentleman en
tered, causing much surprise and confusion among
the conspirator*. / ■
"Murray I" exclaimed the Chevalier, In tones of re
lief. v...
The new-comer, a middle-aged man of extraordi
nary masterful appearance, cast a flaming look from
face to face to end upon the Prince's.
"Aye, Chevalier," lie said in a low rapid voice,
"you’ve done me finely this time with your secret
voyage. Aye, and done well for the cause tool—
Wretched boobies I” he turned back upon the boys,
spitting the words in his rage; "you’d be having your
own 4** 0C I at I° n * would ye? That of your elders is
too slow and too cautious, and you'd lure your Prince
into the heart of danger in spite of usr—Death I
You'd be setting up the throne again, such as you!
And 'tis to the whipping Mock I'd send ye I”
With a gesture of sudden warning, his countenance
changing indescribably, he lifted a thin voice:
"By the Rood, I am too late. The mischiefs done!”
The echo of a cry unnaturally cut into dumbness
was in our ears. In the garden the shuffle of foot
steps and the repeated clicks of swords and firelocks
could be heard and before the lapse of many minutes
the cry of a command from without caused a death
like stillness in the room and the entrance of four
uniformed men, and a mass of soldiers in the passage
behind them.
'Twas then that the divine suggestion that was to
redeem me sprang into my mind. I saw, now, as in «
a flush, how out of my very baseness, I could play the
hero; pass for my Liege in earnest and take his
danger to myself. Rising, I called out commandingly:
"Surely, gentlemen, is not God with us? Draw, my,
friends and let your Prince lead you I"
So saying, I drew with a flourish, and hurled my
self upon the foremost officer.
Before my point could reach him, I felt as if a rock
had been cast against my breast, dashing me, as it
wrre, down some sudden yawning precipice. And as
T fell, I heard the crash as of a world exploding, into
the reverberating echoes of which rang the words:
"His Mood is on his own head.”
It was many weeks later that I myself had the
last words of that circumstantial enigma. Then I
learned how. chafing in weary reaction month after
month, at Gravclines—in consequence of the failure ,
of Roquefcuillc's expedition against England—the
young Prince had allowed himself to be tempted by
the enthusiastic pledges of a hand of hot-headed High
land youths, ana had come over to lend his personal
sanction to a new loyalist movement.
But, he it as it may, had it not been for me—whom
you may well, In truth, style the Young Pretender of
that day—there would have been no Preston Pant, no
Holyrood and no Culloden.
All attention was turned in the question of
the Chevalier’s immediate safety, and not a creature
(save one) thought of seeing whether breath re
mained in him who had proved himself the best
loyalist of them all.
But she, Rachel—true heart, whether in hate or In
love—flew like a bird to my side.
I have dim visions of the dsys that followed. In
spite of the pain and fever They are sweet.
Her tender face comes between me and the void; her
exquisite hand alone holds me back; and fate gives ms
the precious revenge to hear the sweet crooning voice
that once demanded my death now bid me again and
again to live.
Then there falls an evening when Rachel confesses
that she would have pierced my heart only the blade
resisted her. "I would have plunged It in your
heart I” she croons. ,
Then I tell her she had already reached my heart
more surely; and T watch the trembling of her grave,
wistful lip and am deeply happy.
In her mystic way she will have It that it was writ
ten in heaven that her house should save the Prines
at this moment of t..% deadly peril. Therefore was it
destined for Alistair to mistake me for his messenger.
Therefore, above all. waa I held in alienee when 1
ought to have spoken. /
It would ill hecome me, would it not, to quarrel
with so pious and comforting a conclusion?