Adventure stories; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
Whereupon, with scarce more words, we stepped suddenly on board the
boat, cast off, and set the lug. The Gregara were then busy upon
breakfast, for the cookery was their usual part; but, one of them
stepping to the battlements, our flight was observed before we were
twenty fathoms from the rock; and the three of them ran about the ruins
and the landing-shelf, for all the world like ants about a broken nest,
hailing and crying on us to return. We were still in both the lee and
the shadow of the rock, which last lay broad upon the waters, but
presently came forth in almost the same moment into the wind and
sunshine; the sail filled, the boat heeled to the gunwale, and we swept
immediately beyond sound of the men’s voices. To what terrors they
endured upon the rock, where they were now deserted without the
countenance of any civilised person or so much as the protection of a
Bible, no limit can be set; nor had they any brandy left to be their
consolation, for even in the haste and secrecy of our departure Andie
had managed to remove it.
It was our first care to set Anster ashore in a cove by the Glenteithy
Rocks, so that the deliverance of our maroons might be duly seen to the
next day. Thence we kept away up Firth. The breeze, which was then so
spirited, swiftly declined, but never wholly failed us. All day we kept
moving, though often not much more; and it was after dark ere we were
up with the Queensferry. To keep the letter of Andie’s engagement (or
what was left of it) I must remain on board, but I thought no harm to
communicate with the shore in writing. On Prestongrange’s cover, where
the Government seal must have a good deal surprised my correspondent, I
writ, by the boat’s lantern, a few necessary words, aboard and Andie
carried them to Rankeillor. In about an hour he came again, with a
purse of money and the assurance that a good horse should be standing
saddled for me by two to-morrow at Clackmannan Pool. This done, and the
boat riding by her stone anchor, we lay down to sleep under the sail.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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