Great Britain -- History -- 17th century -- Fiction; Historical fiction
"To their own place," I said, shortly. "But tell me one word. Where is
your captain, Gilbert Burnet, that he is not with you to-day?"
The man looked at me curiously.
"He is gone on another errand, down Tweed toward Peebles."
Then I knew he was seeking for Marjory high and low and would never rest
till he found her.
"I will let you go," said I to the man, "that you may carry the tidings
to the rest. Begone with you quick. I am in no mood to look on such as
you this day."
The man turned and was riding off, when he stopped for one word. "You
think," he said, "that I am your enemy and your cousin’s friend, and
that I serve under the captain for his own sweet sake. I will tell you
my tale. Three years ago this Captain Gilbert Burnet was in Leyden, and
there also was I, a happy, reputable man, prosperous and contented, with
the prettiest sweetheart in all the town. Then came this man. I need
not tell what he did. In a year he had won over the silly girl to his
own desires, and I was a ruined man for evermore. I am a servant in his
company who worked my fall. Remember then that the nearer I am to
Gilbert Burnet the worse it will fare with him." And he rode off, still
pale and shivering with terror.
I mused for some time with myself. Truly, thought I, Gilbert has his
own troubles, and it will go hard with him if his own men turn against
him. And I set it down in my mind that I would do my best to warn him of
the schemes of the foreigner. For though it was my cousin’s own
ill-doing that had brought him to this, and my heart burned against him
for his villainy, it was yet right that a kinsman should protect one of
the house against the plots of a common soldier.
CHAPTER XIII
I RUN A NARROW ESCAPE FOR MY LIFE
This was in April, and now the summer began to grow over the land. The
days grew longer and the air more mild, the flowers came out on the
hills, little mountain pansies and eyebright and whortleberry, and the
first early bells of the heath; the birds reared their young and the air
was all filled with the cries of them; and in the streams the trout grew
full-fleshed and strong.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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