Great Britain -- History -- 17th century -- Fiction; Historical fiction
Here in this narrow glen we were in no danger save from some chance
wandering soldier. But this danger was the less to be feared, since if
Gilbert had any large portion of his men out on one errand he would be
sure to set the rest to their duties as garrison. For my cousin had no
love for lax discipline, but had all the family pride of ordering and
being obeyed to the letter. So we kindled a little fire by the
stream-side, and in the ashes roasted some eggs of a muirfowl which
Nicol had picked up on the journey; and which with the cheese and the
cakes we had brought made a better meal than I might hope for for many
days to come. We sat around the fire in the dry heather ’neath the
genial sun, thanking God that we were still alive in the green world and
with few cares save the frustrating of our foes. Marjory was somewhat
less cheerful than in the morning, partly from the fatigue of riding,
which in these waste places is no light thing, and partly because
anxiety for my safety and sorrow at our near parting were beginning to
oppress her. For herself, I verily believe, she had no care, for she
was brave as a lion in the presence of what most women tremble at. But
the loneliness of a great house and the never-appeased desire for
knowledge of my safety were things which came nearer so rapidly that I
did not wonder she lost her gaiety.
"Oh, what will you do alone in these places?" she said. "If you had but
one with you, I should be comforted. Will you not let Nicol accompany
you?"
Now when my lady looked at me with melting eyes and twined her hands in
her eagerness, it was hard to have to deny her. But I was resolved that
my servant should abide at Smitwood to guard her and bring me tidings if
aught evil threatened.
"Nay, dear," I said, "that may not be. I cannot have you left with an
old man who is helpless with age and a crew of hireling servants. I
should have no heart to live in the moors if I had not some hope of your
safety. Believe me, dear, I can very well defend myself. My skill of
hillcraft is as good as any dragoon’s, and I have heard folk say that I
am no ill hand with a sword. And I know the countryside like the palm
of my own hand, and friends are not few among these green glens. Trust
me, no ill will come near me, and our meeting will be all the merrier
for our parting."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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