Chapter IV: "puss in the Corner."

In the fog outside flared a torch or two. The candle-lit hall sent forth a pale stream. Five horsemen in their saddles could be discerned--but not Danforth. Nor was Danforth the trooper who had alighted to knock--a short, young fellow with a swarthy skin, a magnificent mustache, and eyes as black as the long, damp cloak tossed back over his shoulder. It swayed as he bowed with unexpected ceremony.

"Is this the Manor House of Windlestrae?--and do I address its master?" he asked, in a commanding but civil tone, peering past Andrew into the hall.

Gilbert Boyd laid aside the psalm-book with studied calmness, coming forward to the doorway.

"It is. I am Gilbert Boyd, the Master of Windlestrae, sir," he responded, courteously. "What is your pleasure?"

Both his own and Andrew's minds were fully prepared for the answer: "I am in the service of the King and have reason to believe that there is now hidden in this dwelling a Jacobite rebel and refugee, Lord Geoffry Armitage."

But, oh, unexpected occurrence! not such was the response. In an accent yet more courteous, the unknown cavalier returned. "Pardon the rudeness of our summons, Mr. Boyd. I fear--I see, that we disturb your evening devotions. The house was so dark as we rode hither that we could scarce tell whether it was really tenanted or not. My name is Jermain--Captain Jermain. I was ordered this morning to convey a message to Colonel Danforth at Neith, and I set out from Fort Augustus with a few of our troop. Unluckily this fog came up apace. Our escort speedily became dispersed. They are now somewhere in the hills, behind. We lost our own road; and, encumbered by a rebel prisoner that we were fortunate enough to capture on the way, we found ourselves almost at your doors before we knew our bearings."

Andrew's heart gave a leap, as he realized that these were not the expected and dreaded guests; but others who came by accident! Evidently they knew nothing of the man hidden within his father's walls. It was an unspeakable relief!

Gilbert Boyd was not a whit behind him in apprehension and gratefulness: "You have, indeed, fared poorly, sir," he said, motioning the young officer to step within his threshold. "What with by-paths and cross-roads the track is difficult in fair weather. I presume that my sending one of my household with you, until you need his guidance no longer, will be a welcome offer."

"For which I thank you," laughed the young trooper; "but, begging your pardon, I don't intend to ask that favor until to-morrow. It is no evening for travelling, Mr. Boyd--and my faith! nothing but a bayonet's point, I fear, will turn me out of your hospitable doors to-night. You must find quarters, no matter how poor, for us few weary men, until daylight. I have learned too much of Highland kindness to fear that you will not--eh? House, barn or shed--it is all one to me and my little troop."

In spite of the ingratiating tone, a command of a sort common enough to all the region at the time, lurked unmistakably in the dragoon-captain's smooth words. Gilbert recognized this. At the precise hour when he was sheltering a proscribed and hunted Jacobite, he must entertain, as best he could, a handful of the very men who, did they suspect the other's nearness, would delight to drag him forth to his death, as, very possibly, they were preparing to do with their prisoner out yonder!

But it was no moment to allow more than a bewildered thought of the untoward complication and how it must be met.

"Gude sauf us!" ejaculated poor Mistress Annan in her heart, "what an awfu' kind o' game o' puss in the corner we're a' like to be playin' this night!"

For she heard Gilbert, with well-simulated cordiality say, "Neil--Morgan--Mistress Annan! Girzie Inglis! You hear? Pray request your companions to dismount, sir. We will offer you and them any such poor entertainment as my house affords. Step within, gentlemen!"

One grateful thought of the infinitely less trying situation that now seemed ahead of him and his family, and another of gratitude at what appeared an uncommon refinement on the part of this young soldier crossed him, as Captain Jermain bowed and prepared to follow. The other dragoons threw themselves from their saddles with exclamations of satisfaction.

"Captain, Captain? How about this Highland wild-cat that we've got on our hands," called one of the party to Jermain, who stood on the porch giving some directions.

"Oh, bring him along with you," returned he. "We can keep him in the kitchen for the present, and find a hole to stow him safely in over-night. Meanwhile, see that no one speaks with him."

Captain Jermain preceded his escort into the hall. They who tramped along at his back were of quite inferior social stamp and address. Two of the party led between them the captured Highlander.

Andrew started back and stared half in pity, half curiosity. The troopers had tied their prize's hands at his back, and he limped, as if in the contest he had hurt his foot. There were stains of blood and soil on his rough garments, and a ragged bandage was tied across his forehead. A thick shock of black hair effectually disguised his sunburnt and unshaven face from close recognition. A more wretched figure it would have been hard to draw. He gave a piercing look at the group in the hall as he passed, as if seeking compassion; but there was too much else to engross the attention of the Master and Andrew for them now to proffer it. Even the women shrunk back as he was forced along. Gilbert directed Angus to show two of the four guards to a small outer room adjoining the rear passage, where Captain Jermain suggested that supper be served them speedily, and thus their charge remain directly under their eyes and ears.

"Sit down, Captain," Gilbert said, as Andrew once more closed the door. "We shall have some refreshment at your service in a few moments. We finished our own evening meal just before you arrived. Be seated, gentlemen."

"I must again regret that we disturbed your family-prayers, Mr. Boyd," apologized the young soldier, dropping into a seat: "I have too much respect for your kindness and for religion, soldier that I am, to willingly disarrange you. Ah, this is a fine old house! It is like a bit of home for a Southerner to slip into such a spot for a night."

"You have not been long in the army?" Gilbert inquired.

"Oh, dear, no," returned the young captain, stretching out his long legs luxuriously--"only a couple of months, and all of those loitering about the Fort. I haven't gained much military experience, I dare swear, by all this famous Rebellion! Have I, Mr. Dawkin? Have I, Roxley?"

Two of the other men laughed; and confirmed Boyd in his idea that this was a very simple-hearted young soldier, a good theorist likely, but not much experienced in anything except fox-hunting, or slaying soft hearts at Lowland balls. Very boyish and frank did he look, sitting there, in spite of his dignity and manliness; and also very much like a boy was his evident enjoyment in finding himself so comfortably situated. In spite of his apprehensions, Gilbert could not help fancying this Achilles the pride of some Surrey household, the darling of some mother whose breeding of him all the rough life of a barracks had not effaced. How much worse the peril would have been if such a guest, forcing himself on the household, were a rude, wary old officer full of strange oaths, exactions and suspicions of everybody and everything about him! "Praise be to God!" Gilbert exclaimed, in his soul, "for we may tide over the danger yet!"

He led the conversation with increased self-control into such topics as could be discussed in common. Each sentence went further in convincing Captain Jermain, as well as his two companions, that they were meeting quite the most frank and friendly of hosts.

Girzie appeared and announced the supper, hastily got together by Mistress Annan's trembling but energetic hands.

"Walk into the next room, captain. This way, gentlemen," said Boyd, rising. Then, turning to Andrew, he added, with a meaning look, but no accent in his voice that might awaken any interest in his remark among the enemy. "My son, step upstairs and see if you can be of use. The East Room will be wanted--tell Mistress Annan so."

The three troopers, headed by Gilbert, passed into the dining-parlor.

Andrew stood bewildered. His father had surely intended some special reference to Lord Geoffry Armitage! Was Lord Geoffry waiting all this time within ear-shot? Andrew could hardly force himself into walking toward the stair with assumed indifference--to mount step after step leisurely, as if reluctant to quit the sudden stir going on below and the company of the soldiers.

All was dark as he turned toward the landing. The boy's nerves were by this time strained intensely. He nearly uttered a cry as he ran into a figure kneeling at the top of the staircase. Lord Geoffry's strong clasp about him and exclamation of caution saved him.

"Oh, my lord, my lord! Have you heard? Do you know it all? It is not Danforth!" Andrew whispered, still clasped in the imperiled young nobleman's arms.

"Yes, yes, dear lad! I have been listening. I stole out from the Mouse's Nest and the Purple Chamber--I can retreat to it again at an instant's warning, you see! Be calm, dear Andrew. Do not tremble so. I am yet safe."

"But, my lord, they may discover that you are here!"

"I do not know how," whispered the fugitive. "We have no traitors, and walls have not tongues." He pressed the Highland boy yet more warmly to his breast, as if in that hour of ill-fortune, standing there within ear-shot of his foes, he was glad to feel a human heart so near him, however young, that he knew already loved him too well to betray him, even at the point of the bayonet.

The boy murmured passionately in his ear: "If you--are taken--I shall die!" all of a tremor, that came from dread and love.

"Pshaw! Keep up heart!" hoarsely replied the young nobleman, with something like tears in his voice at the gallant lad's devotion; "you must not die, nor must I, either. We shall all come out right and safe, I am sure. Quick--back to that handful of knaves below! I can see already that they have a bigger child than you for their leader. Find out for me, if possible, who is their prisoner. Contrive to let your father know that I am in spirits--that is why he sent you. Go, play your part well. My life is in your hands too, remember."

"I shall, I shall! But oh, my lord--go back to the Mouse's Nest. Promise me that you will."

"So be it!" And Andrew thought he heard the intrepid young man laugh shame-facedly at yielding to his terrified importunity, "I promise!" Then they pressed hands and parted in the gloom.