"He is base, girl, who does basely, it matters not how fair he be or how pleasing in a lady's room. And I am not sure about his respect for ladies and the high ways of what ye would call his chivalry. Mayhap ye have not heard the story of his courting--then I have something else, and a lighter tale for your ears, but whether it please you better I know not. Though I begin to believe ye are easily satisfied." At the mention of courting Lady Cochrane searched the face of her daughter, but though Jean was startled she gave no sign.

"There be many tales which fly up and down the land, and are pa.s.sed from mouth to mouth among the children of this world, and some of them are not for a G.o.dly maiden's ears, since they are maistly concerned wi' chambering and wantonness. But this thing ye had better hear, and then ye will understand what manner of man in his walk and conversation we are harboring beneath our roof. For a' he look so grand and carries his head so high, he has little gold in his purse, but the black devil of greed is in his heart. So, like the lave of the gallants that drink and gamble and do waur things at the king's court, he has been hunting for some la.s.s that will bring him a tocher (dowry) and a t.i.tle. For this is what the men of his generation are ever needing. Ye follow me, Jean? This may be news to a country la.s.s wha has not been corrupted among the king's ladies.

"Weel, it's mair than three years ago our brave gentleman scented his game, and ever since has been trying to trap this misguided la.s.s, for like the rest o' them, when he is not persecuting the saints, he is ruining innocent women soul and body. I would have you understand that, daughter, and maybe ye will walk with him less in the pleasaunce." Both women were standing, and Lady Cochrane was watching Jean to see whether she had touched her. Her daughter gave no sign except that her face was hardening, and she tapped the floor with her foot.

"Ye may not have heard of Helen Graham, for she belongs to another world from ours, and one I pray G.o.d ye may never see the inside of, for a black clan to Scotland have been the Grahams from the Marquis himself, who was a traitor to the Covenant and a scourge to Israel, to this bonnie kinsman of his, who has the face of a woman and the dress of a popinjay and the heart of a fiend. Now, it happens that this fair la.s.s, whom I pity both for her blood and for her company, for indeed she is a daughter of Heth and hath the portion of her people, is heiress to the Earl of Monteith, and whaso-ever marries her will succeed to what money there is and will be an earl in his own richt. A fine prize for an avaricious and ambitious worldling.

"For years, then, as I was saying, Claverhouse has been scheming and plotting to capture Helen Graham and to make himself Earl o'

Monteith. It wasna sic easy work as shootin' G.o.d's people on the hillside, and for a while the sun didna shine on his game. Some say the Marquis wanted her for himself, and then John Graham of Claverhouse would have to go behind like a little dog to his master's heel. Some say that her father had some compunction in handing over his daughter into sic cruel hands. Some say that the la.s.s had a lover of her own, though that is neither here nor there with her folk. But it's no easy throwing a bloodhound off the track, and now I hear he has gained his purpose, and afore he left the Court and came back to his evil trade in Scotland the contract of marriage was settled, and ane o' these days we will be hearing that a Graham has married a Graham, and that both o' them have gotten the portion that belongeth to the unrighteous. Ye ken, Jean, that I have never loved the foolish gossip which fills the minds o' idle folk when they had better be readin' their Bibles and praying for their souls, but I judged it expedient that ye should know that Claverhouse is as gude as a married man."

"If he were not," said Jean, looking steadily at her mother, and drawing herself up to her full height, "there is little danger he would come to Paisley Castle for his love, or find a bride in my Lady Cochrane's daughter. Ye have given me fair warning and have used very plain speech, but I was wondering with myself all the time"--and then as her mother waited and questioned her by a look--"whether miscalling a man black with the shameful lies of his enemies is not the surest way to turn the heart of a woman towards him. But doubtless ye ken best." Without further speech Jean left her mother's room, who felt that she would have succeeded better if her daughter had been less like herself.

Jean gave, truth to tell, little heed to the stories of Claverhouse's savagery, partly because rough deeds were being done on both sides, and they were not so much horrified in the West Country of that time at the shooting of a man as we are in our delicate days; partly, also, because she had been fed on those horrors for years, and had learned to regard Claverhouse and the other Royalist officers as men capable of any atrocity. Gradually the dramatic stories had grown stale and lost their bite, and when she noticed that with every new telling it was necessary to strengthen the horrors, Jean had begun to regard them as works of political fiction. But this was another story about Claverhouse's engagement to Helen Graham. Jean would not admit to herself, even in her own room or in her own heart, that she was in love with Graham, and she was ready to say to herself that no marriage could be more preposterous than between a Cochrane and a Graham. It did not really matter to her whether he had been engaged or was going to be engaged to one Graham or twenty Grahams. She had never seen him till a few days ago, and very likely, having done all he wanted, he would never come to Paisley Castle again. Their lives had touched just for a s.p.a.ce, and then would run forever afterwards apart. They had pa.s.sed some pleasant hours together, and she would ever remember his face; perhaps he might sometimes recall hers. So the little play would end without ill being done to her or him. Still, as she knew her mother was not overscrupulous, and any stick was good enough wherewith to beat Claverhouse, she would like to know, if only to gratify a woman's curiosity, whether Claverhouse was really going to marry this kinswoman of his, and, in pa.s.sing, whether he was the mercenary adventurer of her mother's description.

This was the reason of a friendly duel between that vivacious woman Kirsty Howieson, Jean Cochrane's maid and humble friend, and that hard-headed and far-seeing man of Angus, Jock Grimond, Claverhouse's servant and only too loyal clansman.

"It's no true every time 'Like master like man'"--and Kirsty made a bold opening, as was the way of her cla.s.s--"for I never saw a woman wi' a bonnier face than Claverhouse, and, my certes, mony a la.s.s would give ten years o' her life, aye, and mair, for his brown curls and his glancing een. I'm judgin' there have been sair hearts for him amang the fair Court ladies."

"Ye may weel say that, Kirsty," answered Jock; "if Providence had been pleased to give ye a c.o.o.ntinance half as winsome, nae doot ye would have been married afore this, my la.s.s. As for him, the women just rin after Claverhouse in flooks. It doesna matter whether it be Holland or whether it be London, whether it be d.u.c.h.esses at Whitehall or merchants' daughters at Dundee, he could have married a hundred times over wi' money and rank and beauty and power. Lord's sake! the opportunities he has had, and the risks he has run, it's been a merciful thing he had me by his side to be, if I may say it, a guide and a protector."

"If the Almichty hasna done muckle for your face, Jock, He's given you a grand conceit o' yoursel', and that must be a rael comfort. I wish I'd a share o' it. So you have preserved your maister safe till this day, and he's still gaeing aboot heart-free and hand-free."

"Na, Kirsty"--and Grimond looked shrewdly at her--"I'll no say that Claverhouse isna bound to marry some day or ither, and, of course, in his posseetion it behove him to find a lady of his ain rank and his ain creed. Noo, what I'm tellin' ye is strictly between oorsel's, and ye're no to mention it even to your ain mistress. Claverhouse is contracted in marriage to Miss Helen Graham, the daughter of Sir James Graham, his own uncle, and the heiress to the Earl of Monteith. Ye see, Miss Helen is his kinswoman, and she brings him an earldom in her lap. Besides that she's verra takin' in her appearance and manner, and I needna say just hates a Covenanter as she would a brock (badger).

It's a maist suitable match every way ye look at it, and it has my entire approbation. But no a word aboot this, mind ye, Kirsty--though I was juist thinkin' this afternoon of recommendin' Claverhouse to let this contract be known. He's an honorable man, is the laird, and, by ordinary, weel-livin'; but there's nae doot he is awfu' tempt.i.t by women, and I wouldna like to see their hearts broken."

"A word in season to my Lady Jean, if I'm no sair mistaken"--and Jock chuckled to himself when Kirsty had gone--"and a warning to the laird micht no be amiss. It would be fine business for a Graham o'

Claverhouse to marry a Covenantin' fanatic and the daughter o' sic a mither. Dod! it would be fair ruin for his career, and misery for himsel'. I'll no deny her looks, but I'll guarantee she has her mither's temper. What would Claverhouse have done without me--though I wouldna say that to onybody except mysel'--he would have been just an object--aye, aye, just a fair object."

As Grimond had communicated the engagement of Claverhouse to Helen Graham under the form of a secret, he was perfectly certain that Kirsty would tell it that evening to her mistress and in the end to the whole castle. But he thought it wise to reinforce the resolution of the other side, and when he waited on his master that evening he laid himself out for instruction.

"Ye would have laughed hearty, Mr. John, if you had heard the officers over their wine this afternoon in the town. Lord Ross wasna there, and so they had the freedom o' their tongues, and if Sir Adam Blair wasna holdin' out that you had fallen in love wi' Lady Jean, and the next thing they would hear would be a marriage that would astonish Scotland. Earleshall nearly went mad, and said that if ye did that you would be fairly bewitched, and that you might as well join the Covenanters. I tell ye, laird, they nearly quarrelled over it, and I am telt they got so thirsty that they drank fourteen bottles o' claret to five o' them besides what they had before. Ye will excuse me mentionin' this, for it's no for me to tell you what the gentlemen speak aboot, but I thought a bit o' daffin' (amus.e.m.e.nt) micht lichten ye after the day's work."

"It is no concern of mine what the officers say between themselves, and I've told you before, Grimond, that you are not to bring any idle tales you pick up to my ears. You've done this more than once, and I lay it on you not to do it again."

"Surely, Mr. John, surely. I ken it's no becoming and I'll no give ye cause to complain again. But as sure as death, when I heard them saying it as I took in your message to Earleshall I nearly dropped on the floor, I was that amused. Claverhouse married to a Covenanter! It was verra takin'.

"Na, na, Mr. John, I kent better than that, but I'm no just comfortable in my mind sae lang as ye are in Paisley Castle and in the company o' Lady Jean. Her mither is an able besom, and her young ladyship is verra deep. What I'm hearin' on the ither side o' the hedge is that she's trying to get round ye so as to get a pardon for Sir John, and to let him come home from Holland. No, Claverhouse, ye maunna be angry wi' me, for I've waited on ye longer than ye mind, and I canna help bein' anxious. Ye are a grand soldier, and ye've been a fine adviser to the government. There's no mony things ye're no fit for, Mr. John, but the women are cunning, and have aye made a fule o'

the men since Eve led Adam aff the straicht and made sic a mishanter o' the hale race. They say doon stairs that Lady Jean is getting roond ye fine, and that if it wasna that her family wanted something from you, you would never have had a blink o' her, ony mair than her auld jade o' a mither. For a hypocrite give me a Covenanter, and, of course, the higher they are the cleverer.

"Just ae word more, Claverhouse, and I pray ye no to be angry, for there's naebody luves ye better than Jock Grimond. I hear things ye canna hear, and I see things ye canna see. Naebody would tell you that Lady Jean and Pollock, the Covenantin' minister, are as gude as man and wife. They may no be married yet, but they will be as sune as it's safe, and that's how he comes here so often. She has a good reason to speak ye fair, laird, and she has a souple tongue and a beguilin' way, juist a Delilah. Laird, as sure as I'm a livin' man this is a hoose o'

deceit, and we are encompa.s.sed wi' fausehood as wi' a garment." And although Claverhouse's rebuke was hot, Grimond felt that he had not suffered in vain.

CHAPTER IV

"THY PEOPLE SHALL BE MY PEOPLE, THY G.o.d MY G.o.d"

A month had pa.s.sed before Claverhouse returned to Paisley, and this time he made his headquarters in the town, and did not accept the hospitality of the castle, excusing himself on the ground of his many and sudden journeys. His real reason was that he thought it better to keep away, both for his own sake and that of Jean Cochrane. During his lonely rides he had time to examine the state of his feelings, and he found himself more deeply affected than he thought; indeed he confessed to himself that if he were to marry he should prefer Jean to any other woman he had ever met. But he remembered her ancestry, especially her mother, and her creed, which was the opposite of his, and he knew that either she would not marry him because he was the chief opponent of her cause, or if he succeeded in winning her, he would most likely be discredited at Court by this suspicious marriage. It was better not to see her, or to run any further risks.

He had made many sacrifices--all his life was to be sacrificed for his cause--and this would only be one more. He tried also to think the matter out from her side, and although he hated to think that she was a traitress trying to ensnare him for her own ends, yet it might be that her family were making a tool of her to seduce him from the path of duty, and although he doubted whether she was betrothed to Pollock, yet it might be true, and he certainly was not going to be Pollock's unsuccessful rival. Altogether, it was expedient that they should not see one another, and Claverhouse contented himself with sending a courteous message by Lord Ross to the earl and Lady Jean, and busied himself with his public and by no means agreeable task of Covenanter-hunting. As, however, he had received the very thoughtful and generous hospitality of the castle on his last visit, and as Lord Ross was constantly saying that the earl would like to see him, he determined to call on the afternoon before his departure. Lady Cochrane, as usual, did not appear, and neither did her daughter, and after a futile conversation with Dundonald, who seemed feebler than ever, Claverhouse left, and had it not been for a sudden whim, as he was going through the courtyard, he had never seen Jean Cochrane again, and many things would not have happened.

But there was a way of reaching the town through the pleasaunce, and under the attraction of past hours spent among its trees Claverhouse turned aside, and walking down one of its gra.s.s walks, and thinking of an evening in that place with Jean, he came suddenly upon her on her favorite seat beneath a spreading beech.

"I crave your pardon, my Lady Jean," said Claverhouse, recovering himself after an instant's discomposure, "for this intrusion upon your chosen place and your meditation. My excuse is the peace of the garden after the wildness of the moors, but I did not hope to find so good company. My success in Paisley Castle has been greater than among the moss-hags."

"It is a brave work, Colonel Graham, to hunt unarmed peasants"--and for the first time Claverhouse caught the ironical note in Jean's speech, and knew that for some reason she was nettled with him--"and it seems to bring little glory. Though, the story did come to our ears, it sometimes brought risk, and--perhaps it was a lie of the Covenanters--once ended in the defeat of his Majesty's Horse. I seem to forget the name of the place."

"Yes," replied Claverhouse with great good humor, "the rascals had the better of us at Drumclog. They might have the same to-morrow again, for the bogs are not good ground for cavalry, and fanatics are dour fighters."

"It was Henry Pollock ye were after this time, we hear, and ye followed him hard, but ye have not got him. It was a sair pity that you did not come a day sooner to the castle, and then you could have captured him without danger." And Lady Jean mocked him openly. "Ye would have tied his hands behind his back and his feet below the horse's belly, and taken him to Edinburgh with a hundred of his Majesty's Horse before him and a hundred behind to keep him safe; ye would have been a proud man, Colonel Graham, when ye came and presented the prisoner to your masters. May I crave of you the right word, for I am only a woman of the country? Would Mr. Henry Pollock have been a prisoner of war--of war?" she repeated with an accent and look of vast contempt.

Never had Claverhouse admired her more than at that moment, for the scorn on her face became her well, and he concluded that it must spring from one of two causes. Most likely, after all, Pollock was her lover.

"'Tis not possible, my Lady Jean," softening his accent till it was as smooth as velvet, and looking at the girl through half-closed eyes, "to please everyone to whom he owes duty in this poor world. If I had been successful for my master his Majesty the King--I cannot remember the name of any other master--then I would have arrested a rebel and a maker of strife in the land, and doubtless he would have suffered his just punishment. That would have been my part towards the king and towards Mr. Henry Pollock, too, and therein have I for the time failed. To-morrow, Lady Jean, I may succeed."

"Perhaps," she said, looking at him from a height, "and perhaps not.

And to whom else do you owe a duty, and have you filled it better?"

"I owe a service to a most gracious hostess, and that is to please her in every way I can. Whether by my will or not, I have surely given you satisfaction by allowing Mr. Henry Pollock to escape, instead of bringing him tied with ropes to Paisley Castle. So far as my information goes you may sleep quietly to-night, for he is safe in some rebel's house. Yet I am sorry from my heart," said Claverhouse, "and I am sorry for your sake, since I make no doubt he will die some day soon, either on the hill or on the scaffold."

"For my sake?" said Jean, looking at him in amazement. "What have I to do with him more than other women?"

"If I have touched upon a secret thing which ought not to be spoken of, I ask your pardon upon my bended knees. But I was told, it seemed to me from a sure quarter, that there was some love pa.s.sage between you and Henry Pollock, and that indeed you were betrothed for marriage."

As Claverhouse spoke the red blood flowed over Jean's face and ebbed as quickly. She looked at Claverhouse steadily, and answered him in a quiet and intense voice, which quivered with emotion.

"Ye were told wrong, then, Claverhouse, for I have never been betrothed to any man, and I shall never be the wife of Henry Pollock.

I am not worthy, for he is a saint, and G.o.d knows I am not that nor ever likely to be, but only a woman. But I tell you, face to face, that I respect him, suffering for his religion more than those who pursue him unto his death. And when he dies, for his testimony, he will have greater honor than those who have murdered him. But they did me too much grace who betrothed me to Henry Pollock; if I am ever married it will be to more ordinary flesh and blood, and I doubt me"--here her mood changed, and the tension relaxing, she smiled on Claverhouse--"whether it will be to any Covenanter."

"Lady Jean," said Claverhouse, with a new light breaking on him, for he began to suspect another cause of her anger, "it concerns me to see you standing while there is this fair seat, and, with your leave, may I sit beside you? Can you give me a few minutes of your time before we part--I to go on my way and you on yours. I hope mine will not bring me again to Paisley Castle, where I am, as the hillmen would say, 'a stumbling-block and an offence.'" Jean, glancing quickly at him, saw that Claverhouse was not mocking, but speaking with a note of sad sincerity.

"When you said a brief while ago that mine was work without glory, ye said truly. But consider that in this confused and dark world, in which we grope our way like shepherds in a mist, we have to do what lies to our hand, and ask no questions--and the weariness of it is that in the darkness we strike ane another. We know not which be right, and shall not know till the day breaks: we maun just do our duty, and mine, by every drop of my blood, is to the king and the king's side. But mind ye, Lady Jean, it will not be always through the moss-hags--chasing shepherds, ploughmen and sic-like; by and by it will be on the battle-field, when this great quarrel is settled in Scotland. May the day not be far off, and may the richt side win."

As Claverhouse spoke he leaned back in the corner of the seat and looked into the far distance, while his face lost its changing expressions of cynicism, severity, gracious courtesy and keen scrutiny, and showed a n.o.bility which Jean had never seen before. She noticed how it invested his somewhat effeminate beauty with manliness and dignity.

"That is true"--and Jean's voice grew gentler--"nane kens that better than myself, for nane has been more tossed in mind than I have been.

Ilka man, and also woman, must walk the road as they see it before them, and do their part till the end comes; but the roads cross terribly on the muirs in the West Country. If I was uncivil a minute syne I crave your pardon, for that was not my mind. But if rumor be true it matters not to you what any man says, far less my Lady Cochrane's daughter, for ye were made to gang yir ain gait."

"Ye are wrong there, Lady Jean, far wrong," Claverhouse suddenly turned round and looked at her with a new countenance. "I will not deny that I am made to be careless about the strife of tongues, and to give little heed whether the world condemns or approves if I do my devoir rightly to my lord the king. But it would touch me to the heart what you thought of me. They say that a woman knows if a man loves her, even though his love be sudden and unlikely, and if that be so, then surely you have seen, as we walked in this pleasaunce those fair evenings, that I have loved you from the moment I saw you in the hall that day. Confess it, Jean, if that be not so. I, with what I heard of Pollock, was bound in honor to be silent."

"Was Pollock the only bond of honor?" and Jean blazed on him with sudden fury. "Is there no other tie that should keep you from speaking of love to me and offering me insult in my father's house? Is this the chivalry of a Royalist, and am I, Jean Cochrane, to be treated like a light lady of the Court, or some poor la.s.s of the countryside ye can play with at your leisure? Pleased by your notice and then flung aside like a flower ye wore till it withered."

"Before G.o.d, what do ye mean by those words?" They were both standing now, and Graham's face was white as death. "Is the love of John Graham of Claverhouse a dishonor?"

"It is, and so is the love of any man if he be pledged to another woman. Though we go not to Court, think you I have not heard of Helen Graham, the heiress of Monteith, and your courting of her--where, the story goes, ye have been more successful than catching ministers of the kirk? Ye would play with me! I thank G.o.d my brother lives, and they say he is no mean swordsman."

"If it were as you believe, my lady, and I had spoken of love to you when I was betrothed to another woman, then ye did well and worthy of your blood to be angry, and my Lord Cochrane's sword, if it had found its way to my heart, had rid the world of a rascal. Rumor is often wrong, and it has told you false this time. I deny not, since I am on my confession, that I desired to wed Helen Graham, and I will also say freely, though it also be to my shame, that I desired to win her, not only because she was a Graham and a gracious maiden, but because I should obtain rank and power, for I have ever hungered for both, that with them I might serve my cause. My suit did not prosper, so that we were never betrothed, and now I hear she is to be married to Captain Rawdon, the nephew of my Lord Conway. I would have married Helen Graham in her smock if need be, though I say again I craved that t.i.tle, and I would have been a faithful husband to her. But I have never loved her, nor any other woman before. Love, Jean"--he went on, and they both unconsciously had seated themselves a little apart--"is like the wind spoken of in the Holy Gospel. It bloweth where it listeth, and is not to be explained by reasons. In my coming and going to Court I have seen many fair women, and some of them have smiled on me and tried to take me by the lure of their eyes, but none has ever been so bonnie to me as you, Jean, and your hair of burnished gold.

Doubtless I have met holier women than you, though my way has not lain much among the saints, but though one should show me a hundred faults in you, ye are to me to-day the best, and I declare if ye had sinned I would love you for your sins only less than for your virtues. I love you as a man should love a woman: altogether, your fair body from the crown of your head to the sole of your foot, your hair, your eyes, your mouth, your hands, the way you hold your head, the way you walk, your white teeth when you smile, and the dimple on your cheek.