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C. IN MEMORY OF vlANY A DAY ON MOOR AND LOCH IN *oOR AIN COUNTRIe' CONTENTS BOOK I. THE HOUSE OF DARRQCH CHArrBR I- THE GATHERING "• ^«E MERCHANTMAN "1. THE CORPSE - IV. THE CASTAWAY V. THE CONSPIRATORS VI. A FAIR YANKEE Vn. THE RIVALS . Vni. FACE TO FAu£ BOOK n. THE TRIAL I- FROM LUGGER TO FRIGATE "• ^"^ °«^ER TO KEEL-HAUI I". YARD-ARM TO YARD-ARM IV. THE EXILE - V. CRASPINAT - VI. THE MYSTERY I II 19 31 40 51 63 72 90 loi 115 129 144 I4S vni CONTENTS CHAPTER I. FROM PERIL TO PERIL II. THE GASCON • III. THE ESCAPE - IV. 'VIVE l'empereurI' V. THE MARCH - VL THE ASSASSINS VII. THE AUDIENCE VIII. A NIGHT OF RECKONING IX. IN THE DAY OF BATTLE X. AFTER MANY DAYS • BOOK III. REVENGE PACK i6i 178 187 208 221 233 244 258 277 300 I- il 'li r LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS t PAGE Frontispiece (in colors) "Up, Guards, and At Them !" He looked quickly up • • 82 "What!" shouted Calthrop, leaning across the tabic 139 I "Soldiers of the Fifth," he exclaims, "behold me!" . 226 "This, Sir," said he, "is not a duel; it is an appeal to God" 274 VENGEANCE IS MINE BOOK I. THE HOUSE OF DARROCH CHAPTER I. THE GATHERING IT was the wildest storm that had visited the West Coast for many a year. It had come with the coming of night, and had increased in violence as the darkness fell. There was a heavy sea at the mouth of the Whipple water, but the fishermen of Shiachan were weather-wise, and their skiffs lay safely within the bar, but a few yards from the tiny hamlet. Round the old house of Darroch the wind yelled and whistled like a fiend freed from bondage, and exulting madly in his liberty, and within, the lean recluse sat huddled over his fire of peat, and shivered in his great red-padded chair. This night recalled just such another to Ian Darroch — the night when he had tricked the red-coats., and won back his inheritance. Since then he had kept it secure, at first by defiance, and then because the law had wearied of him and bis ways, had forgotten him, and left him in peace. He was far from the bustling world in this lone place of sea and mountain-land, I 2 VENGEANCE IS MINE but he was content— indeed, his life had been varied enough to make amends for anydulness and monotony at its fag-end. Proscribed and hunted after the '45, he had been captured and shipped to the plantations. He had known the lash in Barbadoes, and learned to hate the English with an undying hate ; but he had taken his revenge. For many a year after his return his name was spoken of with awe amongst the islands and in every seaward parish of the adjacent mainland. It was an open secret that he had been m league with the wild wreckers of Pitlochie, the lawless men of the Black Glen, and it was whispered that even now he had dealings with their descend- ants, who were ever ready to take charge of a cargo when the Solway was watched too closely, who had many a still hidden away amongst the corries and the heather, and who were none too anxious to save the crew of a vessel driven from her course to meet her fate on the wild and barren coast which as cliff and reef bade defiance to the ocean's might. But Ian Darroch was nearing his end. Hard and bony he had been all his life, and hard and bony he was in his senility. A huge hound, gaunt and shaggy as his master, lay at his feet, and whimpered uneasily as the gale's eerie voice sang a storm-song about the gables and the sleet rattled on the coarse window-panes. The old Jacobite was a mere wreck of his former self, thin and stooping, watery-eyed, with bleared vision and trembling limbs, but still fierce and bitter in temper, and caring for nothing on earth but the great dog Ossian and the younger of his two grand- sons. They were all the kith and kin left to him, and the elder he hated as being the child of his son by the latter's first wife, an Englishwoman. He had driven the first Neil Darroch from his home on account of this marriage, and had never seen his face again, but in his old age he had been fain to welcome the second Neil despite the fact that the ^ THE GATHERING 3 boy's mother was a Frenchwoman, one of that nation who had betrayed the Stuart cause, and whom he had cursed as faithless and corrupt. He had let the lad run wild, and filled his head with strange ideas foreign to the times, but Ian Darroch lived in the past, and would have it that things were as they had been when the White Rose blossomed for the last time. A curious whim took possession of him when he realized that the curly-headed little fellow in a kilt was little no longer, had attained years of discretion, and was growing restless and dis- satisfied with his surroundings. He resolved that Neil Darroch should study the law with which he had been at enmity all his life. He would make others suffer as he had suffered, make his younger grandson an instrument to bully and browbeat hap- less prisoners— a judge with the power of life and death, who might fine and imprison and hang with- out mercy, and make the name of Darroch a terror on the bench. To this end he had parted with him, and the slow years had passed till now both his grandsons had been suinmoned to see him die. For the nonce, however, he had cheated the devil, and was able to leave his bed ; but he was very lonely that night — sick and lonely. Strange visions framed themselves in the glowing embers. He saw faces of those long dead, gallant men who had taken pistol and clay- more for the Prince. He saw again the slave-gangs and the long green stretches of the cane-fields under the fierce light of a tropic sun. He had been young then, hot-tempered and proud, but full of a yearning for home, for the kindly hills and the sound of the western surges as they beat monotonously on the Croban Point and the curving sands of the Bay of Shiachan. He had got his chance at last, and he had taken it and come up from the sea as an avenger of blood. This had been the great deed of his life, and the old man rarely conjured up his later years : 1—2 .4 VENGEANCE IS MINE his dealings vyith the smugglers, his marriage, his wife s death, his bitter quarrel with his or ^ son— all these he had forgotten, and his thoughts .t .ire away back to the wild night when he had seized Darroch House, and won a name for himself in every seaward parish. His mouth twitched, and he muttered and mumbled as memory after memory crowded on his feeble brain, as he planned and plotted once again, and led the way from the sea-caves by the light of the pine torches. It all came back to him as it had so often done, and then the vision passed, and left him wearied, but content; and so, spreading out his lean hands, all veins and knuckles, before the peat blaze, he smiled to himself, and, smiling, dropped into a doze. ^"^ Whatever else Ian Darroch might be, he was in keeping with his surroundings. The same could not be said of the three men who occupied the next room, and sat m silence listening to the sough of the wind without and Its fitful roaring in the wide chimney, up which leaped the flames of a huge fire of wood. They were seated round the hearth of what out of courtesy was called the hall, a long, narrow chambei panelled in black oak, but bare and comfortless, with no claims to justify its high-sounding name save a venerable appearance and a fine arching fireplace of red and white stone. The most remarkable of the three was a man well past the middle age, whose thick hair, the colour of bleached seaweed, was gacnered up into a queue, and fastened by a bow of faded yellow ribbon. His features were finely cut his whole bearing distinguished at first sight, but a closer inspection revealed the fact that something was lacking in his face. His expression was pleasant. hi3 dark eyes benevolent, but his thin lips were tremulous, his chin weak. He sat very stiffly on a straight-backed chair, and kept constantly smiling as though well satisfied, and nodding aimlessly at the glow in front of him. His coat, whirh h^A or1«;«.ii.. THE GATHERING been of a good green cloth, was shabby in the extreme, his knee-breeches frayed and shiny, while his black silk stockin<^s had been darned in many places with a coarse purple wool, which made his spidery shanks look as if covered with small nodosi- ties or warts. A muffler round his neck, a shirt of doubtful linen, and a pair of carpet slippers of a gorgeous pattern completed a costume at once pathetic and ridiculous. And yet its owner had once been a man of fashion, a leader of the mode in a city where fashion is fashioned, so to speak. Monsieur Deschamps had been born and bred a Parisian, one of an old Huguenot family ; but, un- fortunately for himself, his connections were aristo- cratic and his ideas conservative. He had by a marvellous series of escapes saved his neck at the time of the Terror, but only at the expense of his reason. He would never again be the keen and alert young dandy who had practised bows and soft speeches, and been always ready to take up an affair of honour, whatever the weapon, knowing himself to be equally expert with pistol and small sword. He would now in all probability continue as he had been for years, a very polite old gentleman, eccentric in his dress and manners, but perfectly harmless and extremely contented with his lot. It had been no hardship for him to accompany his only sister, wife and then widow of a British naval officer, to this outlandish place on the Scottish West Coast. He imagined it an excellent change of air, and peopled the lonely spot with visionary beings whose conversation was much to his liking, m whom he confided, and with whom he shared many a secret. The gentle Frenchwoman soon drooped and died, scared out of her life, so said report, by Ian Darroch's grimness and ferocity ; but there remained the child, and Monsieur Deschamps told him as many tales as did the old Jacobite, and divided Neil's affections with his grandfather. iililllii«i(iii!w!»«-'-»j««5«,- 6 VENGEANCE IS MINE He was if anything a little elated, for his prot6e«« had returned after a long absence, and he had not yet detected any remarkable change in him. They would renew their walks, and he would no 'onger have the old housekeeper as his sole society. The woman was well enough, but no companion; while there never had been the least cordiality in the rela- tions of Charles Deschamps and Ian Darroch. So the former, like the latter, sat quietly, his face wrmklmg with complacent smiles all on account of the young man who was seated on his right, and who httle imagined what awaited him in the near luture. Neil Darroch, as a man, was very different from what he had been as a boy, at least, to the casual observer. In the days when he had lived a half- savage existence, save for the gentle restraint of his uncle, he had been a creature of moods, but for the most part a dreamy, sensitive lad, whose surround- mgs had done much to shape his character. The loneliness and grandeur of the spot appealed to his imagination. The heather-clad hills, purple-breasted in autumn, crowned by ridges of black peat-hagg, and gashed by birch and rowan-lined gullies, the home ot the wily blackcock and the grey hen, he regarded as emblems of his country and his people. He had waded among the long green reeds and scared the teal and mallard from their nests. He had wandered by th^ cold, bleak shore and watched the wave-ripples spreading out upon the firm yellow sand and curling round the lug-worms' casts. He had heard the cry of the snowy owl as it hooted in the coppices of Darroch, and was answered by the harsh note of the night-fishing heron. He knew the long coast-line from the rocky Croban Point in the south, past the wide bay of Shiachan to the long line of northern cliffs, cave-pierced, high and beetling, a coa.st-line fringed with floating wrack and the broken cugc uf the ceaseless ocean swell. Hi m THE GATHERING i^ after f/hn^ ^^^ ^T^ ^* ^^^ ^° influence him in fa her's wilH fT*^ '"'*' ^ ."^^"^^' ^^^h his grand" wnc n. ^ ^""^l^ ""^'"S in his ears of nights it was no wonder that NpH nor^^^u u i "K"'^» " violent Tacohifp Tnli Pai^roch had grown up a a,^ f ,> ""V^ 'rf ^'"^ come when he^Ionged to wa's rairin7.%^"r"'^^ lacking fhiraUowance rbotand"t„ 'o? a' f/uWw'cle^r /r'"" knowledge of the world and ts brooked ^iLT^>'^ Neil was so woefully deficient H» if, j ^ ■ "* in wl ^ °\ "? was a man h body— av and days the Scottish.?!^? "' ^'' innocence. In those lov^lr cl«„°'i:!i'!P!il' w^f ??n«.t°° virtuous. Its often drunVena;d co:?srit^rfbi^%Xlt 8 VENGEANCE IS MINE . At first, bewilderpH o„^ »hy and retiringr .hen ^T'"' *"> '""^ hold aloof lU-advisers, he had .'one'J.^ '"^^ .confidence and but he stopped in tin^e il^''^"" f^ ™ad to rufn told what i, was thararre" eS'h,^"'^ "?''''* ""« have' the change was sudden hI"^ ^" ""'"" steps, but dead earnest; J.e shnnied hi, lT'"'="'' '° *o k „ made no other friends H.T .'f '=°'"Panions, bit of reserve from which' he Lr*" ''="='' '"'o the she" "".longer in danger He h /"""'S"''' l"" he was ™%ht P/^ve^l'iva'^ret.f ;"^<' ^''^he' a^f*^^ pleasantly. Lonely self co„» * " '"'^^^^d him un which was not concnlf i ^'i'''''^' "nd with a nrJdL peculiar sort of man '' t'^l^K^'^^^'"^ developed i^ interesting type the "^, ^'^.^ame that stranee hnf tr.cksofsLe^Ph'andg^stufe"L'^"^;'^' ^"^ '^"''-a'ed o hers, who did not laHstbJl'u''^ """^ amusing to profession, but they were pM T^^^' ^"^^ ^n his earned a right to he e^ceLt^A "^^"' ^ho had the time Neil Darroch h^"" 'V^^^' chose, and bv fma]] practice a? the nf T'^^^ ^^'^ wa^lnfo a favourite with his rnnf ^'' ^^ ^o"nd himself n "ot deny hi tXts ^"'P^'^''^"^^- ^"t theyfouM that he earnoi I ; . ^° caustic wa ^^^-nt being he had becon e smce the smack fror. Portrov the nearest town, hip, had borne him of: ^o make his fX;'0 "^ •^'- ""^^ '^' ^^"^'"^ j"^^- h5^ grand! fathers lurid m agination. 5 ^"u A tall, thin man, but p )ssessed the wirv s rength which .^oes further than mass nd weiVht^ his face distinctly handsome, his comp.x ion dark his expression cignified, he fidgets with a quizz ing glass, danglir, by a broad rLnd an s?uXs the face of his un. nown step-brother Geoffiey. his In^lT^ lad developed into a mixture of nis grandfather ai d his uncle, and the result was curiously like a cer ain class of Englishman though this he himself wo Id have been the first to deny and repudiate: fori, ider all h;= .i^.i, JA,^ °..^^">^ there still lay those fixed " b^hef^wli^^rhk^i;^ r^ lO VENGEANCE IS MINE one would expect to meet in such a nl«.^"l ""^ ""^^ his comDanion*? R» j,Vi • l ^ P^^^^ *^^" were his motherland put ft to a S/"'"^ T""^^ f™" man to all intents'^and purposes hfw "^"r ^"f '''''- broal-sho^'ltt'^nlTd T^u^J^" ^^^^^ ' prasr"re?ord"<'.ir^/f gaC'Sffwifnot a' have summed him 1 r*^'""^" blackguard ' would must be c"nfess?d Ti.TT^^^ """^ '^"j'' ">ough it heredity and enviroleSTr'''/rS^'y "'"^^ °f him also, and pkarre ;. J''" T't^ ^l'"'' "'^^ -n from his motWs side h'-^ - -■ ■^°'^' "''"^ Souty constitution. He'^hadn'^vefh'' '°?''= l"<^ * curb his Da<: he was already disgusted • buThi,'"'' ^'"' ^''''='' just then were embarra«.^H j^ I <='V="'"stances the harsh, hafking coueh of th^T"^ ''°^, ^"-^ then wild blood h his veins, nd of man than were oney from n English- Londoner shion, with md figure, full of a ^as not a rd ' would though it ' those of ^in was in nd, while )ks and a aught to 1 long as cter was ess and y a man Darroch n haunts iscretion ver seen h which istances hoped, s some- a.de one moil of id then ; whose :ether. iggered sang a THE MERCHANTMAN n CHAPTER II. THE MERCHANTMAN AT the head of the Black Glen lay the crofts of Pitlochie, hidden away in a nook amongst .u A A^}'}^^' "^^^'^ *^^ Whipple was a mere thread, dyed brown with the moss-water, where the dark tarn nestled at the base of a might; mountain spur and where often in summer-time no sound might be heard the live-long day but the plaintive bleat of sheep, the melancholy whistle of the curlew the drumming of solitary snipe, and the harsh' barking croak of the ravens from the rock corries ^ fho ^.-11 • ""??' ^""^f" ^"^ ^^^^d would be ofT to tlrlhh ? b^^^k Gl^n Molachan, unless indeed there had been work m the night to keep them all to r.;r^ ^^^'' '^l'"^ ^'r ^^^ Solway mouth ready to run a cargo where there was little risk of dis- covery. "* Now, however the Pitlochie men were at their CO age doors The night had passed, but the storm T^S^' w\'^^^ '"^'"^^^ '^^ ^^"^^i"g streamers of mist which swept along the hill crests and Sulill ^ effects ^f the 'blast on theTw a"d fwl t " "','"'^5 had struggled for existence on those bare uplands. But a half-dozen remained and even those showed long white scars where branches had been rent from the parent stemrand now ragged and forlorn, they were swaying and ^^!(lt -T^r things/while the InoLnful ^,A Ir^ Wind through their dark needle clusters sounded like a weird hill music, a dirge of death. ♦„ i .r ° "'f'" was at last uprooted and crashed to mother earth after a gallant fight and much loss anoXrT'"V''r/"l''^"'y ^^^'hed the onlookers another signal of death an^ ^^of,-,,^^;^^ t. ^^ cleared, but the whistling gusts'-werraniolent'as r IB VENGEANCE IS MINE whisked awav oni^hw I- °lf" '"''*"*' «"d then thatch ofT„^ZL:'^-^Tr!/^-^^^ '- ">« ooLTnlt;. afd"'at'"]rs;°l'°^^'^'''^"''/ '-'«- caught up his sticks nHK.°"^'"^" *fter man land patfwhLh led t^^u"",?' *"•* ^?°^ "^e moor- the salt spray flyine inland anH^; ° the heather, faces, a feeling aU^thetn^e as ff*f°^ ^^'°'^ ^^^'" against some Invisible Zer cirrenTn^' ."f '"? and strength- bnt =t uZ u "i""^"t of vast depth they reached the d fflie'tnd 'f.' """^ ^''"^'^'l' down, gripping the coars^ ' grl 'a^^'^l'^T'^^^ stems, and gaing out to sea ' ^'^"^^^ wal a ctj'iouf tes^'ir^n'^" ?T ">« °^«- there ness and ransnSf'' '•''' ''«''''. ^ =°" of airi- morning afre^rhSv^'^Ler's^r '•'"b^t^"" It' gale was still raging in smWfM ', j "i* •''f * ""e and the absencf of mlfo 'dr vi'n„ "Seet "Ih' ''^' the mighty rdlers'ca'nf '!"'^?i; ""''^'^ ='"' showed, better furLg whitehn '° nTf"" ' ™=''' '="^"°g ''"d wards along thIirL'?,fh ^"^"^ ^'.-'^^ing back- overbalancing thevthund.r^n'^^ '""'"^ backs, till, and pebbles Ind Tack Sow f'T.T" "'^ '^"^ fro^ i,r "^; oftum'e^^hiltt rth" of^crlt' bat XTofsS °""^^^^ towardfth'S . on.y to be sucked seawards and overwhelmed ds of fine, le hillsides le glen was luse, as of nt, distant , and then ti tore the lis lawless ifter man the moor- Caves of ig breaths 5 heather, linst their e striving ast depth xhausted, lemselves bracken 2an there t of airi- seen the here the ight sky, The sea surging nes and ay. showed, ing and g back- :ks, till, le sand ' would creamy he cliff THE MERCHANTMAN 13 by the next towering water wall as it fell and burst. North and south m an almost unbroken line the charging mountainous seas wreaked their fury upon the shiftmg foreground, almost unbroken, for in one part a row of peaked, wrack-clad rocks, showing in Ime like the back ridge of an alligator, broke the torce of these ocean giants. They formed a sort ot natural breakwater, within which the sea was only gently ruffled, although the wind-blown crests of the great waves without came down in showers upon it hke huge pearl-drops. The dreaded Skerries, a mile off shore, low-lying, hke hidden traps, at the best of times, were row buried beneath a constant streak of broken water, a wild jabble of foam, which showed awav out to sea on either side of the Stacks. These latter, two in number, were like sharp black teeth, rocks such as may be seen off the lies D'Hyeres, near Toulon, miniature Pitons of St. Lucia, small pyramids jutting upwards from the waste around. A narrow/a very narrow channel separated one from the other, and there the water was of great depth, but on the outer side of either fang lay the Skerries, north and south, as they were named upon the chart. Surrounded by a network of currents and tiny whirlpools, they were dreaded by both fishermen and mariners and loved only by the restless herring- gulls and wild sea-mews, which in calm weather congregated about them in myriads, and rent the air with their discordant cries. But there was no bird-life on the Skerries that day, and the Stacks were being bombarded by billow after billow, some sweeping clear over their forty feet of weathered basalt, while others caught them half-way up in their chill embrace, and yet others, their bases broken, swept and washed about them in broad, white, bubbling tracts, as though baffled in their ettorts to outdo their mightier hr«thr^n i3ut the men of Pitio°chie had no eyes for such a 1 1 '4 VENGEANCE IS MINE tTstareintentll'Inf'TA '^''«' y^ich caused them ^Jlf '"'fP"y '"to the eye of the wind was the reeis. with nothing showing but a tinv soreaH PacroTlaTn^^L"""" J"'' ™* broken stU^ In anTbtrpr t :nd g^^aTd^'f' ^f ^T'/"?^' wreckage clinging to Sera'd'side Tgrlttro"! was striving to beat off shore ^ ^ toThrsfas*an/f ' ^"^ "^^^ ""^'^ ^^^ ^^e lifted 10 tne seas and I'Tched with a stapler into th^ save twoT^ ^'^' l^^T"^ ^^^^ ^" the fL r ggLT save two figures ^yhlch were lashed to the wheet Not a rag of bunting betraved her na ionalitv hnf she was plainly a merchan-tman and a^Sv a merchantman doomed. Piamly a 'A furriner,' growled a grizzled, evil-faced man Suck sr f ^f^:^r:^^''i:^f^ a string of foul oathsr?orTe'.;;rcau"ghtTigh :r'a dt-e^n of^he^^gX''^ ''"■^''^^^ ^^ A]!!s^7:rT^^ ^nii^°det ttr r- moment, so pungent was the salt solutteJ ^hirh struck upon their eyeballs. When next thev look^H Sfon ''¥h "^^ ^"^"^^. ^° -^-" 'hX wtl^ vesse h^H ^^ '^'t^^? ^"^^ had vanished, the vessel had relinquished her desperate strue^Ie hnf r''cl"hTottrT-""V £|e-| ^-, -Hifg-oTthI fo„^rf to^ra's tS rocks Then suddenly she vanished in the troulh only to be ae^ain rnnt,v,f „« -_j _ . "^ irougn, nearer than evertoTerfote^'' '^^^" '^ ^^"^^^^ i E lused them id was the rocks and iny spread stumps in )retopmast 3f floating eat barque she lifted into the swept in gulph her her crew :e-rigging, he wheel, lality, but plainly a ::ed man, ?e in the ided with ight of a from the sphemies, n for a ir which !y looked nr whole hed, the ?gle, but >site the as they le shore, ve, and ■rds the trough, vanish, THE MERCHANTMAN 15 A A shout burst from the smugglers, for once again the black form of the ship showed upon a wave-top, with a smother of foam all about her. On she came, till she seemed balanced half-way up between the mighty teeth, and, tossing on the wind, a wild cry was born to the shore. Then the wave surged forward alone, and there, gripped by the rocks, stuck fast between the deadly Stacks, with broken water pouring over her in cascades, and dripping down upon her from above, hung the poor barque, her nose dipping low, her stern tilted high, and her streaming decks showing in their full length and breadth. At the sight a chorus of angry curses burst from the men of Pitlochie. Their prey had escaped them. Well did they know the run of the currents and the faint chance there was of any cargo drifting to the beach once the Stacks or Skerries had gripped a hapless ship. They started to their feet and shook their fists at the wreck, then cursed again, as they became aware of the presence of a dozen men who had halted some twenty yards away. These were the fishermen of Shiachan, and at their head were the grandsons of Ian Darroch. Word had been brought of the minute-guns, and Neil, a favourite in the old days with the big burly men of bronzed faces and horny hands, had organized a rescue party, which at the last moment Geoffrey Darroch had asked leave to join. They carried several coils of rope and lighter lines, but Neil, who knew that for long there had been bad blood between the fisher-folk and the smugglers, was a trifle put out at the latter's appearance. He began to see trouble ahead, and halted his men to consider what best could be done. Meanwhile the barque's foremast broke across some six feet above deck-level, and fell upon her port-bow, taking most of her crew with it, and flinging half a dozen of them into the sea, where they were swallowed up in a few seconds of time. i6 VENGEANCE IS MINE Curious streaks of a bXhter Lt f ""1°^^" ^^y- stretched in lone ]tZfl ''Sht than the sky held glimmering of sunS wT ""Z"" ',? =°'"«h. ind a itself-a did, wimirder,?;' l'™Fi'"S '° *=P'»y cheerfulness aboi" it rtT ^^'"'^ i""^ "°*ing of lessening, while "lady the wavef '"' '""^' *^' huge as the^ had been "'^''^ =<="<=« so "at s^' t^hal if :rpo^:S!r T^^^ '^^^^ ^^ shelterofthelorgreefBuVc *""'•'' ^ ''°^' ""der I've in such weather where 4sTtnh^ ' ??*' '=°"'d was no sign of anv cr^ft.ZTL t^ ''^ 8r°' ^^ There Neil remembe edXcave^""/,''^ '""'\ A" ^' °"^« almost certain, that some kinH^l' P^bable. indeed rsid? ^^''^ °^ *^- Bu^h^w-t'^i',!-^^^ co|t-ire, ?r m^ b^^rtheTar^j^i'-^P-' °f the men of Pitlochie A* the " ^'^f "'^''^ «''"' the theremust be some sec'ret o Jt i"T ''" '"'^«' '^at from the cliif-topTthe ci £ t/'''f'^'"«^'° "^'=<=aves hundred feet in heiehl i 5' j''^'"=^'™«' ^ough not a He had heard of such entr^/ ^'^ "?'P ^""^ P^'hless. long sloping tunnels wth/n' °" f'i ^*^' ^oast- natural, half artificial Wh=? "^'^"^ """"'hs, half however, have to be donlvlf"' "^^', '^°"<' «'«"«. could be launched once the r!^f ''"u'^'y- ^o boa into the rock recesses tU, "^ ""^San to plunge lessening the number S'thf^acrfiT "°T^°' ^*' niast-stumps or bulwarktand evfrl"^nr 'i"„?"I '° —J ~-^TT aiiu uien fancy,' Neil 1. >inted away ce that the fiother day. he sky heJd )uth, and a to display nothing of blast was scarce so ig the un- ■ was only i the cliff- oat under 3oat could : ? There ^11 at once le, indeed concealed hey to be Lrt of the e-traders ! had not with the new that ihe caves gh not a Pathless. Coast — hs, half - would, ^0 boat ' plunge nt was 'ging to .J i.1 THE MERCHANTMAN 17 there came floating shorewards the mournful wail of some poor wretch going down to feed the crabs and cod and conger, or to drift in time, a disfigured. swollen horror, upon the wave-beat shingle. From what the excited fishermen said* amongst themselves, Neil gathered that the smugglers had a large boat, buoyed with empty barrels, which thev used m a rough sea, and that if she was forthcoming his men were willing to make an attempt at rescue. He resolved that it should be made. 'Yonder fellows are difficult to handle,' he said to Geoffrey, nodding towards the free-traders, ' but I suppose I can count on your support ?' ^ ' To tell the truth, Mr. Darroch,' was the reply. It seenis to me a hopeless business, and scarcely worth the risk of making enemies of those men. i hey may be my neighbours before long.' And to conciliate a pet of rogues you would let a ship s company, with perhaps women amongst them, drown before your eyes! Shame on you, sir!' sneered Neil, his natural coolness all but deserting him for a moment. ' Come along, men,' he added! We, at any rate, must do our best.' Geoffrey Darroch made no answer to Neil's scornful words, but he was none the less enraged. He made up his mind there and then that this whelp of a Frenchman,' as he called his step- brother, would yet suffer for his insolence, and in high dudgeon he turned his back, and set off the way ne had come. "^ The which more than one of the men of Pitlochie noted with a lively satisfaction, for this fine-looking gentlenian could be none other than the future JJarroch of Darroch. .Ja ^"^?"^^g^^ them in their spirit of resistance, and Neil s demand for a guide to the caves was met by a sullen refusal. It was no time for words, and as ne was determinpH fn nc^ fnt-.-^ ,v „ — j u_ __ j ^l _ hshermen were ready to back him, things might have I'' ! ", i I I I ! i8 VENGEANCE IS MINE filled" wrT^'ZnM""^' '"^ ''" "-" --^-^-ly thunder. booming sound, like distant The sea had reached the rorks ,„^ tu waves were pluneine onl \,flT^ ' , *''* Sreat verberating roar inJn tK ^ , another with re- of Cowrie "'° "'^ ^"'' souths of the Caves heldir'^tan" ':l:Zo:^i^j'' ^"t"-^-^- " ■ AvlLS^' -ar thr^g^ STt! ""='^'" ' ' -''• black'he^td cowlrds '"°"'"' ' '"" <="^« t^em for th^^gafe^^quklf to To °"'' '^' ''='^'5"'=- Although aitho^ugh'tge breakers were^'cL ''"•"' ^° ^°- ='"<^ without ragsed hrnl»n!^ . changing mto rollers fel' work. The shTo had «f-' ^'/'^ ''"'^ ''°'"= "= was again on a levef keel an'?''h''^''°*"*"<^^- She race of waters frZ^lfohtL^^ ""^'"^ *" ^^'^^ greedy and hissintr <;h. ^™? ^P''^°S '« hef bottom against the st».? "-as gnnding out her shatte-dVanL All tL„7f^.Tl!"f ^''^ =?"« and her decks; she was f?^ u ''^? ^^"'^''ed from end was nit long ^'omTn/' x\*P"'^='. '"■"'• H^^ followed one anfther aTT/;^ ^^'^^ " ^hty billows cession. Their comhin^H T "'?'"' '" "'apid su ;- for the hapless sh°p The fi?4 1"^*" ^f u'°° ""><=h the Stacks, the second rirn„ * '°°sened her hold of ■nore a glimpse cou?dhphr fi ^^' ^'«™ *"' once only, fo? thrthlrrrorrfng a°s']ri^,''=-«|'™P=e rushing over her in a ilLn * ° '"umph, went streaked by white foam »ni^ ^^^''"=*' ^"^^^"^ and passed, the barque had^»«-H T^^J ^"'^ "'h«n it dived and sunk^to meet'^the r„f^'°' ''■.'' ^"'^^"^ ^"^ ordnance which la^rfn VT °"'",S "'>« and rusted Stacks and Skerr Sas bone, T^°''°'^ about the an eagle's eyrie o^a ^lldrast's" de„^^^^=^= "^ ^''°'" The last trace of the merchantman was gone. NE been suddenly . like distant nd the great her with re- of the Caves Tosh, a gray- height; 'and, urse them for 3. Although to go, and into rollers had done its wards. She ed the white >rang at her iiff out her th split and ni3hed from hulk. Her ?hty billows n rapid suc- s too much her hold of rn till once —a glimpse imph, went edged and id when it urched and and rusted about the s lie about gone. THE CORPSE 19 CHAPTER HI. THE CORPSE HARD upon the storm came a white frost. Ihere was a silvery coating of rime on every grass-blade, a stillness all over the tnrrJc'' i'°"°^^*^l.^°"l^ °^ Darroch, whose leaden Th" K- § ^^""f ^ "^.^'^^ *^'"°"^^ the morning's mist. The birds sat still and ruffled in the coppices, a AU^'??u Si 'f^ ^^^ gathered at the burn's side. About the Stacks and Skerries the sea sobbed heavily as a child sobs after a fit of anger. As the hours hrfX A 'u" T"^^ ,h'' presence felt, and the day brightened, but brought no relief to Neil Darroch. He was restless and annoyed. Although there had been no open breach of the peace he knew that the smugglers looked on him For fh ?'k°"' ^"^. "?.'^^* y^* P^°v« troublesome. For that he cared little, but his stepbrother's behaviour irritated and angered him. Geoffrey fnnT ^"Ir^* ^'"^ ""'^^ ^^^^k looks on his return, comn^n"^h ^^nsieur Deschamps, pleased at having company, had been lively and amusing for a time his efforts had failed to dissipate the doud whiTh,' though small as a man's hand, had already begun to fhlfh /he old Frenchman could not undefstand to h l.^^"^ r""'^'. ^".^ ^^^^^'"^ he was in some way to blame, became timid and out of humour. unJtT T! "° ^^"^' ^'^ the morrow. Neil did not feel called upon to apologize. This brother of his was not at all to his liking, and though with Ian Darroch worse and the shadow of death hover- wf. 1/ • ^} *^^* ^,"y ^"^^^^1 ^as unseemly, he was determined to make no advances till Geoffrey had explained his conduct of the previous da/ Ine man dnpa n«^f u«i, ^ j > iT . .... /.' but his^ action was tantamount to an insult,' and A M' 20 VENGEANCE IS MINE Monsieur Deschamps, whom he took into his con- fidence entirely agreed with him. 'AlLi \^'"?. "°*' ^^ ^o^'' said the old man Already he sits in the best chair, and speaks ?s?f have Teen i^hA? ^^^^^^"^Ps,; but let him beware ! I Monsieur Deschamps to show such spirit ^ Never mind him,' he answered. 'We'll both im off together and see how town life suits you.' ^ with a'kamthiTf'H"'. ^""'•' ^^'^ '"« °'^ f^""-- witn a gleam m his faded eyes. * It Prows dull hpre t:i^:,tr^^''T''''. .'^^"'- -y h^'^ith'f thtk: longer.' ' *^^'^ ^' "° '"^^°" ^^ '"^t^y cruTt^inlTn/'^'' u ' ^^?' *^^* '^^^ ^^s "merely re- cruiting, and would ere long return to his gaieties and beloved Pans. Those terrible days when his life hung by a thread and his brain became unhin J^d were mercifully blotted out, and as a rde MonsTur Deschamp's chatter was of the cheeriest He was however, readily influenced by his sunoundin^s Inri Z^ '^^^' ^i ^'^ ^^^* ^" the long summef da^-^ when he would wander out to havel ch^t w th the ft w "^'^u' ''^'' P^^y ^'*h th^ bairns. In thT winter be^r: the Site "' Tif "^ ^'^"^ -' ^^uTout ueiore the hail fire, mournfully shak ng his head anrJ ^^\"tl\Zr -^"T- "'^ P"'ke"ed'ct:ks' TW u u ^^^^ "P°" bim now, and Geoffrev Nei to wh^^^ ^°'^'^ ^^"^^^^^ ^"*^^^s own room^ sanL out^nlf . '"f ^^'^ ^^^ ^ ^^^"^ unbearable f hi wu" * .^""^ *°?^ ^'s ^ay towards the mouth of the Whipple, a tidal stream with a bar of sLi the^'ebb '\Tc ^' ^"^ ^ TP^^-^ -' .'::« weed :' tne ebb. He^came upon^the cobble which served as a ferrv ic\T fK-< A it gatiierers, and a few strokes SfE into his con- he old man. i speaks as if ughinc^atme m beware ! I ny eye. Oh ' upon some •miled at his iw thing for it. ^e'll both go you.' e old fellow, vs dull here, tlth, I think, ison to stay merely re- his gaieties s when his le unhinged e Monsieur • He was, idings, and imer days, t with the the winter , hour out, ' head, and id cheeks. Geofifirey )wn room, nbearable, mouth of • of silted n weed at served as w strokes THE CORPSE 2, carried hin a oss the annel, the water be.ng low and runnm; ;>idly ou i\e 1 nded, and walking across a strett,ii of links dott'^d with hi vn-tipped prickly whin-clumps, which u spring re masses of golden yellow, he reached the great sweep of sands which bounded the bay of Shiachan from the river's mouth to the rocky, sea-bird-spotted Croban, towards which he saw a scart speeding with low and rapid flight— an evil-looking bird, so black its colour so strange its shape, long-necked and long-winged. silent and solitary. Like all thoughtful men, Neil Darroch found a real pleasure in Nature, and no- where more than on the beach. The dead star-fish :he empty, spineless case of the urchin, the mottled razor-shells, forced open and polished clean, all told him a stoiy— the great tragedy of the survival of the httest. The birds were busy playing in it, uncon- scious actors ; the very weed masses were full of sand-beetles and minute crabs, taking minor parts, and as much else as they could get. Winter in some ways is.the best time on the shore. There is more wild hfe in the short days, there is more drift trom the angry seas and the high tides, and there is often a strange beauty in a frosty evening on a deserted strand, in the setting of a crimson sun away out upon a cold, gray ocean, in the vague melancholy of a vast water stretch, drab and dull and beating sorrowfully upon a lonely length of salt sea sand. He sauntered along, wonderirg if he would have h Z^"?!^'" beyond the week or ten days which he had allowed himself. His grandfather was worse, and only ha f-conscious, and he sorrowed for the old man whose life had been so loveless and sad. ^trange,' he muttered, • that he who hates the ^nghsh, and with good cause, should be succeeded by one who has no sympathy with him, though, if 1 am not mistakpn Ha Hoo i,;^ ,.: t.^ i-_i though ne meant to encourage those rogues of I ^'i aa 1 M .! VENGEANCE IS MINE spared us h.s presence at such a time.' ' befo^id The bluff'^hrn? T '° l^''' '" ">e north, wodd''be"f4t'foT» •"•"•, ",T" ^''""- ""• there wuuia oe iignt lor a couple of hours. Whv shnnlH henot pay a visit to the scene of theThiDwreck? Retracmg h.s steps, he again crossed in the cobbt t^^»t\ h P ""d wiiholfrorTirhi nM T^ u. /-^"^ ,*^® ^^^" ^^se, he would have asked ctn^^rthX^Tio^ero,' tttiS grown raw, and a faint sea-breeze laden with ;.!• . was rnmi'ncr i'« ,> «• r , "^^ '^« I'-'J =-' upon blalk^as^the^ rlt •';'''r'', ,* ''"^'^ «''*°'" * body, u«PrJ » o, ™pk 'tself. Almost involuntarily Nei uttered a cry of dismay, and the bird lazily spread as wmgs and launched itself into the mst which quTcl^y "°« '«""• ''"' ^^'^'""S only to pass h.fj' ^f^ "°' ^^^" .deceived. What he saw was the reveairn/a"df hi "'" ^^T^'"^ "P= shrunkel and half" "fed, the t/Har forS 'T' "?^ ^^^^ pifh»r o.-^^ ri uuge ears spreading like wings on weird **' ''''^ ^ gargoyle, motionless and tha^theTll'tidf ''T'' """^ ^' •>« '''d '° "«"«d ghastSy^rlnc'-^^t^e'^^Lr" "™^^' '^^' ^•'°- ">'' suffers"'bM/'tr"^K \^t '*'* '^ '•>« «'=' P"' which suHers, but there had been no time for disfiguration to see the eyelids wink and the srin pvnanH -rh!. negro looked as if smiling to himsllf ^ ''' h.li "If r'^ when Neil had run his boat up to the base of the rock that the mystery was exolained The man was fixed up to the chin il a great vert"cd ^ef . It was possible to land on a narrow ledge and asfcX";?^ ""t ".^'"^•' ^^P-gnanceTSbi:^ s ^tr^utrof t',!^ cTer.^ '"' ''-- -'■'-' The cleft was narrow ; no doubt the bodv had been sucked into it. and had bp.p po "I.TZ„?? INE It was a great )ck— -but, stay ! )ed and yellow s outline grew took hold of bird sat upon without a body, oluntarily Neil i lazily spread he mist which only to pass le saw was the shrunken, and eeth, the eyes like wings on lotionless and id so noticed Bt above this st part which disfiguration half expected xpand. The 3at up to the as explained. ?reat vertical )w ledge, and e, scrambled m. This he he rock, and is on a level e body had THE CORPSE 25 the chin. The neck rested in a groove with sharp edges. The trunk, short but stoutly built, hung suspended m the fissure, which, though not wide was deep. The sea was disintegrating the base of the northern Stack. The miniature chasm was free of water, there being cracks in its outer wall, through which the sea drained. Its bottom would have been visible but for what it held in the shape of driftwood It was a veritable trap. Now that Neil had solved the mystery, the feeling of dread which had possessed him passed away. For a moment he thought of carrying the body ashore; but the idea was repulsive, and it would serve no purpose. The negro was clad in a loose shirt and duck trousers. All that could be done was to search him for some clue as to what vessel this was which had met an untimely fate, and then to commit his body to the deep, to complete the ship's company which it would seem he had striven hard to leave. Neil's footing was too uncertain to allow him to drag the body free, and so, without a second thought he slipped down into the crevice, and began hastily to turn out the man's pockets. As he did so, a fresh wreath of fog came swirling past, and had it not been that he could hear his boat splashing briskly below him, he might have imagined himself cut off trom the shore, for he could see nothing of the water channel. But as he completed his fruitless search, another sound caught his ears : a creaking as of wood on wood, and then the unmistakable dip of oars. He was not alone ; he held his breath, and listened intently. There came a murmur of voices from somewhere in the mist, and then again the creak of pars in rowlocks. His height was such that, stand- ing erect, he could look over the edge of the rock- clett J^but^there was nothing to be seen— everything was Sii^uuded from his view. ! M ! M III VENGEANCE IS MINE wou d be drscov.r./^-rr' """"'"S' ^°,'^^^' °^"°'='' «°"=« "-^s held by a overawea pLt of ^^"^"'1'^'"^=?°* fr°"> ^^ich to and whicS C n°/t btnrctt?„ n°", '?°'^"'°r' the exiled Hous. of Stuarf wl ^ proclaiming for neyer fully known, buf certain k fs t^'""" -^^^ the red-rnatc fl^^ ^"^ v^enain it is that one night reLedtoreturntoaob"°\'\^°?'-°y' ^"^ fla^tly of devih N^th- P^"=* "''"<=h they said was full soldfer except EftXr Tl\^' '^^"^^ f™™ he nor bloodshed Even tt, ^^^^^^^ "e^'her violence absent at the timf could dn °'^,k-"' "^? ''^'^ '•««° having braved a nfehtrn,h»K"°"""^ "'",'' ""em, but half sfared out of fhei wit^ °"''' ""'^ ^^° ^^«"^"«'l [INE to the cause of mself, had seen He cursed tl 3 t the hkelihood no help for it 1:, and his boat > doubt he was ad defied these 3 he knew that e Stacks as an at trifles, and 3 ransom, even was pecuh'ar. 1754. In that leader of a set escaped from nail craft, but k night came r bones there. i shore at the I come a few sred marriage id v/oise than s held by a rom which to 3re populous, oclaiming for appened was at one night y» and flatly said was full led from the ther violence 10 had been th them, but dso returned THE CORPSE 27 The years passed, and long after all danger of a rismg was over a rumour went abroad that some- one was hvmg m Darroch House, while a tale was told of a gang of wreckers in the Black Glen These, however, kept to themselves, and when it was found that amongst them were men who had been shipped mto slavery eight years before, and when It was whispered that the lonely man in Darroch House was the laird himself, there were tt7n'I^''.r?''^ ^^'" blood-money by giving informa- tion to the Government. One such there was, but he vanished mysteriously on his way to the sherifi" and when proceedings were threatened at a late^ period men still told how, in broad daylight, a band of swarthy smugglers, headed by a blind piper! entered Portroy, and vowed to burn every house^ in iittfeii?:LrStrth\i^ ^" ^^^^^- ^^^^^ '^' ^-" Ian Darroch was said to rule his wild followers with an iron hand, and while they took what the sea gave, and while from a dozen wrecks no living being emerged to tell the tale, there were till recently no complaints on the part of those who were neighbours to the men of Pitlochie. Time wrought changes. A fishing village sprang up at Sh achan. Ian Darroch was absent for a h!frf;]f^"^ °"?^-^ ^?"'^. ^ ^^^^' ^ho, happily for herself, died in giving birth to a son. The son grew to manhood, would have nothing to do with his ather's methods of hfe, went off in a revenue cutte ! and returned with an English bride, only to have the door slammed in his face, and to be cursed and threatened. Trouble and want had come upon th"s Neil Darroch despite his wife's prospects, and thf n."' tf^' ^r^"^ ^'' ^°" Geoffrey: he entered h.H T^ b^/^^^^he mast. When a petty officer he Sn a W?? a beautiful French girl, taken prisoner on a West Indiaman from Guadaloimr^. A« ^ iieutenant, rising rapidly to fame, he had" f^illen in --Illi ■ fi ! ' i II ;i Mil 28 VENGEANCE IS MINE a cutting-out expedition at the mouth of the LoiVp and we know what beram^ r^f u- • , ^°'^^' children became of his widow and th" Slav" B tlhough' aTco?/ '?' ''^ "^^'"'^ ^^ marked the rest ng-Dlaces of thf u ""f ^ ''°°^^ descendants stm li^d b/^.^ems^r';''"'' "l^" people, occasionally reinforced Tv=f' P""."'"" utdV^^su^c^Lil^-^^^^^^^^ which he i:rsri?S'^;\S-s^-^^^ many believed to be gfpsies, for alreaiy the stor';! ft^f M TA"^ ''^t ?"'"« forgotten. ^ ""^ him, was frequently at Darrnrh w. u^ crippled v4:|fe'Lj,™h<^%rrtLT n/ver'get'~h IrTh'T?"' '^''^' -''° S' they h!d suSd, ho^gh ;ka°rGSr"/h'''' "''fi do their best. "'""8". P'ease God, they would This Neil Darroch was- ready enoueh in I,.!;, INE I of the Loire, s widow and :> had escaped arroch, nearly runl« return. *^ '"^' '"« smugglers would wafa'cavlr^'^lrcrctirbr T' ''/ ^^^^ ^»^-« tide, a ^reat arctd glot'o Tn7f T f * ''^^ columns, and formed not hvfh !^ "^'^.^ ^^^^^ic wind, but by the samp L? -^ ^5-^'°" °^ ^^^^s and 1-d heaved VUritact'andt.'"''^"^%"^'^^ the home of a colon v of rn.^- ^kernes. It was ledges on which they ^nested t^^^^^^^^ ^"» °^ though the free-trad^ers were cer^ain?''"^''"'"'.^"^ existence, he fancied it St .V aI^"^^'^ °^ ^ts place. ^ "^'^^t afford him a hiding- . He hesitated whether nr r.«<. * i n position, but he reflected "hat ff \T% '^' "^^^^ found neither boat nor head o^ 1 ' free-traders might reasonably conclude tl?.K^^T 5^*""" they taken and not viirT^Tth' ^ ^^f^' ^^^ ^^en mis- were superstilio^el .^to^r't^^^ • ^^^^ coming from the ehost? nf tKL ™^*™_ '"e cries as no effOTt to succour anHVn ii "''u "^ ""^y ''^d made to explain wha? they had ee„ L'd h""/^ ^"r'''"^ Lkely be eager to stay long in a soirft h=' ''.°"i'^ °°' especially when it was groi ng dS Ar/h "^ 'P°'' time, he was glad to b? rlH ^f .u- ^: ^' '"^ same and with some difficulty for S" l^T^^ P'-^=»<=«. be managed to raise ^ttL-. u? ''"'^^ «'»= heavy compfete '' ' ~"P^°^' ''« '°'d himselff was again i I S THE CASTAWAY 3t CHAPTER IV. THE CASTAWAY AS rapidly as possible Neil scrambled down into his boat, cast her off, and, settling to the oars, pulled round to the mouth of the sea- cave, into which the swell rolled with a sluggish lurch and heave. His last visit had been on a day of brilliant sunshine, when a bluish sheen wavered along the walls of the grotto, and when one could trace the undulating lines of the rock columns far down into the transparent depths. Now all was gloomy : the sea a murky, grayish brown, like the mist which shrouded it, the narrow opening yawning black and forbidding, while from it there issued a hollow moaning like the mournful song of some huge shell. Had it not been for the fog, he would have tried to slip round the southern Stack, and trust to the start this would give him and to his own powers as an oarsman ; but he knew better than to grope his way in this reef-sown sea, and so crept cautiously within the arch. The cave was of no great length, but half-way down It a branch ran off almost at right angles, and into this Neil thrust his boat, and made her fast by jamming her painter into a cranny. He sat still for a time, feeling fairly secure ; then, wearying of doing nothing, and there being no sign of the smugglers, he clambered up to a ledge which, even at full tide vvas above the water-level. It led along the side of the cavern as far as the entrance, beyond which it was continued on the face of the Stack, running round towards the channel he had just left. From It he could hear any boat approaching, and if the tree-traders entered, he would have them at his mercy, for strewn on the ledge were small boulders and manv lof>se stnnpc wifh wkiVh u^ • • cause them to beat a retreat. aoon ) ;! J .i%i l! 1 4 w li i 32 VEWGEANCE IS MINE lent : your own^hfp out orhfP?'''^°"^ ^^^ ^-^^^J" enemy: to reach h^have to ru? h '''^' ^!^^^^ ^^^ a vengeance. One of thLI i *^^ gauntlet with send them to the boUom • "''^' ^°"^^ J"«^ ^^out <^^^''^^^^^^^^^ hour of town Jife had not fitted h?m f ^^^^^^^^ hungry. His sort, though in tL old H. ^' ^" adventure of this nothing bitter" ^^' ^^ ^^"'^ ^ave enjoyed 'Confound the rascals I' he omu^l^^ u • . his way along the ledte \n ,h -.^^ ^^ P'^ked then halted suddenly A ^? *^^?^"^'-darkness, and him lay something & front of was not a boulder rL '"^S""^^^ '^ shape which tomed to the glooni fnd 2"l ^^ ^^*^ "^ ^^^"s- saw that it wasThl:;;!^ "" ""^" '' ^« laugh w\ifh%STfTeS' o'f' """^^^^' -^h a He was no coward but hi d^L"''^^"' discomfort, him, and there was som^h"^ "^^'° '^"^ daunted across another^o"rpyrstta%"^^^^^^^ ^" --"^ Poor wretch!' he thought 'Whof .u began it might have finished ' Rnf f* 1^^ '^^ covery filled him with 7 • "* ^ further dis- relic^f the wre"k wis a ,foman' If' '^'"'^ °"^^' clad, and lav face Hn„,^,. ?^' ^"^ "'*« scantily hair' streaJng about hTi-'w^ ''^==f °f ^ark bare. One arm^vaXbIed un bent^A .^'''l'^ ^^'^ outstretched, and he no fce^that ?h»'if '"'"°"'«' clenched, shut fast with fh. ■\ *® ''"S^" were dead-the dead who have h"^"^/"'""^"' °f the must have been wished nnh ^^K drowned. 'She inward commant ^ ^^'^ ^^ * ^^^e-' was his her\":ct«lri„':heX'li'^J ^^""^■™""'^ «P- could see that she wl, vn™J'!?^' '^'° .'" death, he sea takes INE )u should have tions are excel- way, while the ■ gauntlet with mid just about !ly an hour of ? hungry. His 'enture of this have enjoyed as he picked darkness, and :e in front of 1 shape which ett.ng accus- nearer it he Ted, with a 5 discomfort, still haunted ly in coming lat the sea further dis- This other A^as scantily 5ses of dark which were ^er, the other ingers were igth of the tied. * She ve,' was his found upon 1 death, he THE CASTAWAY 33 toll of all ; yet it's a sad pity. Oh. damn those rogues I I half wish they were here to sink with her. But no, my lass,' he went on, 'you've keot clear of the sea so far, and I'll see to it that you rest m a kirkyard.' ^ He felt himself a fool for his pains, but he had not the heart to pitch this hapless waif into the cold and greedy water which lapped sullenly below him. tor all his reserve and his sarcasm, Neil Darroch vl.u ^'"J^'y heart enough. He stooped again to lift the body m his arms, but as he did so he started It almost seemed to him as if there was life vet present. He placed his hand over the region of the heart ; he could feel nothing, but his studies had not been confined to law. In his wild days some of his boon companions had been students of medicine, and from them he had picked up many a rough-and-ready hint. He turned the body round again, so that the heart would fall against the ribs and this time there could be no doubt. It still beat feebly it is true, but there was yet pulsation. At the wrist he could detect no sign of Hfe He passed his hand in front of the mouth, and there was no breath-stream to be felt ; the face was icy cold, the eyes closed, but it mattered not. To his joy he remembered that the day before when starting off for the caves, he had slipped a brandy-flask into his coat-pocket. It was there fi?7' ^^ -unscrewed the top, and forced some of the contents between the teeth. He had little hope ot saving the woman, but none the less, he resolved L°in'Pf^'^ "f ^^'''^- . ^^ ^^' fortunate that she had lain face downwards. If she had been upon her hlr '^u- ^^M ^T^^^ ^^^ ^°"^'"^ ^o"^^ have choked .hi' ^\\^^'^ P^^'och knew. He knew also that she must^ have been strong and healthy, otherwise cue vvuuiu never nave survived so lonf^.' As it was he could scarcely credit that she had been wasTied I !i M :: ! ill ^m iiil ^^^^^^^1 H H iMi'lllfl ^H i 1 ■ :. i ■ i ■;!li 34 VENGEANCE IS MINE from the ship's decks to such a place, and yet her hair was darr.p .vith more than the sea-fog; her clothes were crusted with the sea-salt. hI knelt beside her, and chafed her hands. He poured more brandy inco her mouth, but it merely lodged there' and trickled from the corners of her lips He set' to work and moved her arms rnd rolled her upon in su^'hVilo.^' t7 \ '^^' '^^" ^^^^ -^^ ^"'t^rry no froth nhn . K^'",.^" remembered there had been no froth about her lips. It was possible she was faSir/s! °' ^°^' ^"^ exposuri' than of '^re^! .om^ !?f°? ^' i^'l °^C"^red to him he stripped off some of her clothes, divested himself of his crat and overcoat and wrapped the woman in them For half an hour he continued his exertions and &zz: '-'''''' ^^--^ -- --ti^to flnM^' woman stirred, and swallowed some of the fluid. The light was so poor that he could not now see more than the outline of her face ; he could no^ see if there was any twitching of her eyelids anv other sign of life. But he did not hesitate ToTe^ de^atr^H^e I^f " ^f \^T ^^'^ '^' -^^ai^ aeatn He had no doubt that he could find his way through the channel, and with care ?mi/ht be possible to shape a course for the mouth^ of the Whipple as on the landward side of the Stacks and Skerries there were few isolated rocks. .1 he smugglers constituted a danger, but he deter L; .1 I *^^" ^^^^^y that he would be able to on?*!f l"5 "'^ "'°"??"- he carried her alon? the ledjre and with some difficulty got her into the bo?t' Then, casting off, he pulled slowly and cautiously &; k! °P!" f_^- 0'"=f f^«? of the cave, he he.ded for passage, and then, lying on his oars, listened ^~^<uld not now he could not eyelids, any ite. To let sant certain lid find his it might be 5uth of the Stacks and ut he deter- ng darkness be able to the neigh- ? the ledge, the boat, utiously for headed for :s, listened THE CASTAWAY 35 mtently. Hearing nothing to alarm him, he bent to his work, and soon was clear of the grim walls on either side. To make certain of gaining open water, he continued rowing steadily towards the shore, and then, setting the boat's bow for what he thought was the direction in which lay Shiachan and safety, he started at full speed. He rowed well and strongly, and his craft hissed and splashed upon the long, smooth swell as she sprang forward with fresh impetus at every stroke. /oc once m his life Neil Darroch was in dead earnest. He was set upon saving this woman upon whom he had stumbled in so remarkable a way, and thus, when there came a sudden hail from somewhere near him, and then the measured beat of oars, a very stern look came into his face, which boded ill to any who might interfere with him. Trusting to the low-lying mist and the gloom of night, he never paused, save to administer more brandy to his passenger. Presently he became aware that the chase had commenced, and that this other boat was near him. For a time there would be the sound of splashing blades and a swishing keel, then a pause, and then again the noise of the pursuit, as the smugglers got an inkling of his whereabouts. There was some- thing very curious in thus flying from a foe which could be heard though not seen— a sense of exhilara- tion m driving onwards into black obscurity, striving to avoid a danger which was invisible, but none the less real. For a good ten minutes he held his own, fervently trusting that he was heading aright, and taking care that if he erred at all it should be in the direction of the shore. Then he became aware that the Pitlochie boat had gained upon his, and that they were rowing level, though at some distance apart, he being nearer the beach. Scarcely had this dawned on hirii when the sound of oars ceased yet again, and then a black shape 3—2 ^ ir'' ^ mil iij Ji: 36 VENGEANCE IS MINE Hy way of answer Neil wrenrh^rj o* T- , oar; his boat swung Void "s thl . '' '^^'•^^^'•d a pivot, and the smu/glr"' craf w^^^^^ °" men in her, ran oast a Xm a' 1^ ^^'^ ^ ^^^^n shipped one7l^toarTslr^t^ Neil with the other lunged at th. fi^ ^''t-^^^^' ^"^ Uttering a cry of alarm fL ^^""l^ '" ^er bows. blow, lof t hKnce^nd vam-^h I'f ^ ,'° ^^^^^ '^^ the gunwale, M'hile ? stol'^^ urts ^ur^^^^^^ T^ companions. curses burst from his of the, ? f„r„ -^ wr,^^^%':rf ^;i;r '^^^^ stretch of seaS 'ween him a^Hl'° P"' ^' ^reat a ^ In the excitement of™heeh^sTh? ^?'^'^• forgotten the womin wh^ i„ • }'^'^ ^''"ost planking at his fee" "^ motionless on the of a life.Tnot't'iii' r'^L""',!^^^''' '}' '' '= 'he price Even supposing he haH^ \^? ^ ^°°'' 'h^^' '^ ^'l-' news that he had brought » '"" '■^<^°S"'sed, the or dead, could not b?£=-> ■"'""'J'" ^^^ore, living Pitlochi;, and then th^ «!f ^ ^ u^P' f™"" '^e men of the betteV Ae " mu4le°r"rh^1 '"' °"™'='' House the end of their terefind fh. T^^^^ """" ^ot to they would scatter in search of nl""""""" '^."''■^■ after Ian Darroch's de,th l,^T/=°"«^^"'='' ^oH they would be al° 7he more like'v to ? ^ '"""? ■ ^° of revenge uDon a man , u u ^j ? take some kind passed upon^heir n™ese J«° ^".^ '^^^"'^ ^em, tres- number sLethi^^K^e^T^Trir" °"^ °^ "'- in unlas;fo7e\U°°gs'""t°.'^h"P'^<^'' ^^^'^ '™^ encounter with the ffe;tr,H 'h^^^'t^'ient of his of his bearinll and 1 i, ./'■ *"-' ^^"^ '°=' «" '^ea " ' '■-' ■-"'"" ""'y iow his hardest INE man standing heave to. •t his starboard gh working on :h half a dozen ^e did so Neil his feet, and • in her bows. ;d to avert the ackwards over burst from his vould be some Dok advantage t of sight, im doubly so 'ut as great a s possible. 3 had almost nless on the it is the price 1, that is all.' cognised, the ishore, living the men of Lrroch House ' well got to [len belie 3ngenial soil fe doing so e some kind them, tres- one of their waste time lent of his ost all idea his hardest I THE CASTAWAY 37 I from the spot without the vaguest notion as to whither he was going. Happily for him there soon loomed up on his right a dark mass, which he knew must be the cliffs, while the long boom of the swell sounde'J in his ears. He crept closer, and then keeping along the shore, arrived off the river mouth without having heard anything more of the smugglers The tide was now half-full, and he crossed the bar with ease, and began to pull rapidly up stream in the direction of Darroch House. It occurred to him to leave the castaway at one of the fisher cottages; but he dismissed the thought, knowing she would be better tended by Teeny, the old house- keeper, who was both capable and willing, and had proved herself a faithful servant to Ian Darroch. As soon as the water became so shallow that his boat was in danger of grounding, he ran her up on the bank and leaped out of her. Then, stooping, he lifted the woman in his arms. That she was recover- ing was evident. She struggled feebly, and groaned as if in pain. 'You are safe,' he said. 'Have no fear; we'll have you comfortable in a few minutes ;' and then he set of along the narrow path which led from the Whipp to the house of Darroch. r ir^ ' -l "^Y^y pitch-dark and a fine rain was tailing. His shirt was soaked with perspiration ; the cold nipped him everely now that his violent exercise was at an end, but he hurried on, though the woman was no light weight. His feeling of relief vvas great when he saw welcome lights before r im. The door was open ; a man— it was his uncle, Monsieur Deschamps— stood on the threshold peer- ing out into the night. Neil could hear his shrill voice while he was yet twenty yards away. The old Frenchman was speaking rapidly to himself, as was his way when excited. • Qui va Id I' he cried, as Neil with his burden came within the circle of light. 38 VENGEANCE IS MINE you Deen my son ? The master s worse and- But what have you there ?' ' ' It's a woman,' said Neil hurriedly—' a passenger y^erd'a; '7o' "d ^f. you rememb'er wL^^Xd yesterday. Go and fetch Teeny, like a £ood man • we must get her to bed at once.' ^ ' awtl'^wkht'^i'""'' ^°"'^'"' Deschamps shuffled was at^ bertv tn^nf^P'^''^' ''^ ^"^P"^^' ^"^ Neil was at liberty to observe his prize more closely He ' Humph !• said he, with a little jerk of his head • •it appears that she was worth the saving, after all ' whIS o"u?h,-,^M? ''««\^«'5hing Ian DaJro i, wneezing out his life, now hurried forward— a brisk little woman with gray hair and ruddy cheeks Sh^ had not much English, but the little she could boast was spoken with that soft Highland accent which is both quaint and attractive. Yes^ve-"' M^m" -1"^'"^ T"' "'^ '^°'<^' P°°' thing I to vour'self' Thl ^*^n k"" '° "" "'"^ ^"^ 1°°^ another- "^ ^ ^"""S'' "'<='' «''t'>°"t ^JVery well; she will occupy my room,' said •'7?J™'''"^ J? P''"=® ■"'"« at the lady's disDosal • said Monsieur Deschamps, with a bow and aSish his puckered old face lighting up with the Seas frl' this chance of a little gallantr^ afforJed him?^ " ' He had been a stranger to the societv nf =n„ woman save his sister, Teeny, and the fi L?Ln'^ wives for nearly twenty years. "snermen s /So be it, uncle,' answered Neil, for he did not wish to hurt the old man's feelings, ^nd i? anything his own room was the plainer and barer of the two' I trust she may be able to thank you herself ere many days have passed." "crseii ere ,ii(W( No thanks are due- -. -- ...x«iin.a aic uuu, inumiureU [NE )d's name have vorse, and- — * a passenger r was wrecked a good man ; amps shuffled •ise, and Neil 2 closely. He elvet collar of of his head ; ing, after all.' Ian Darroch ^ard — a brisk cheeks. She e could boast cent which is poor thing ! ow and look sick without room,' said j^'s disposal,' id a flourish, the pleasure him. :iety of any fishermen's he did not if anything, of the two. herself ere 'murniured THE CASTAWAY 39 Monsieur Charles, all in a flutter. ' She will, I am sure, find the place very excellent for the health -the air mvigoratmg, and the company, now that you are here, my dear boy, both elevating and ' He stopped abruptly, for Neil and the housekeeper had hurried oft. With a meaningless smile and a hand fumbling at his well-cut lips, now so void of any expression but a contented weakness, the old fellow wandered off to the hall, a silk handkerchief dangling half-way out of his tail-coat pocket • Between ourselves,' he murmured to himself in French, it is not a pleasant thing to have to do : but such a visitor cannot be tolerated, and the master being ill, Noel must attend to it.' He waited impatiently till Neil, who had seen that everything which could be done had been done for the unexpected visitor, returned tired and hungry. ^ Where is Geoffrey ?' was his first question. You refer to the young man who came here several days since ?' said Monsieur Deschamps. with an air quite foreign to him. ' Of course,' answered Neil. ' I have tried to explain to you that he is my step-brother' JJj^^^'^lu^ to regard him as any relation,' said his uncle, with such emphasis that Neil stared hard at He had never seen the old man assume so grand a manner, but he recalled his varying moods, and only sm^iled good-naturedly as he replied : fo/J^^* 't ^'"^^ unnecessary, sir. Although his father and m. - were the same, it does not entitle Him to the honour of being one of your family.' w.« . IZ^T ^"^c^Ptible Monsieur Deschamps was to a ittle harmless flattery, and humoured him accordingly. 'I should disown him if it did, for such habits are not to my taste.' ' Whv ?' askerl N^il in Octr^r^ic,y,^^^4. i^in-_. 1 ne been doing now ?' 40 VENGEANCE IS MINE He led the way to the room which Geoffrev Darroch occupied, and threw open the door. ^ h.ii^/''^''''^. ^^ "'"^^'' sa^d Neil quietly. 'He had the watery eye and the high colour of the occasional toper. Well, we must^et him to bed Haying discharged what he considered his dutv Monsieur Deschamps' fine airs vanished and he nieekly assisted in placing Geoffrey Darroch within the bed-curtains, where they left him to rec/aircon sciousness and develop a headache. " °"' we^ fa"; from Tl'. ^''\ ""% ^'^' ^^^^"^' ^^' thoughts were lar troni pleasant. He saw trouble ahead— P?trochir;'but''whe°''" °'- "i^ ^"-^ wi.h theTe'n 7f riiiocnie , but when, wearied and worried he fell asleep in his chair, he was haunted by visions o Wn! dainty and attracti- I,, had ever CHAPTER V. THE CONSPIRATORS TWO men were gazing from an upper window of successLi"nfT V^^' ^PParently endless th^ nUr ^"^^^ssion of the allied troops pouring into Ind'fustrPan'^''^' J-"^ cuirassiers, P^rus^sian caVal ? fiwi ^"^^i^^ grenadiers, foot-guards and artillerv by a ^I'nt ver/^T*. ^'^ «tLts were thr^ngej what the ol7... *^^"fi^d/''Owd. who now witnessed thiu Kr '* ^?^?ngst them could not remember —tne humbling of fh^ h^arf ^r c icuicuioer i ! NE ^oel, and you bich Geoffrey door. 2 face flushed, -bottle at his ivy sleep of a luietly. ' He colour of the him to bed red his duty, ihed, and he irroch within regain con- his thoughts ible ahead — h the men of rried, he fell >y visions of liideous, the ho had ever THE CONSPIRATORS 41 if window of ntly endless )ouring into sian cavalry tid artillery e thronged 7 witnessed remember Suddenly at some distance there arose a shout— a shout which rapidly grew in intensity, and finally changed into repeated bursts of cheering. Its import was not at first apparent to the two men above, but as it passed from mouth to mouth the people upon the pavement immediately below them took up the cry with wild enthusiasm till it drowned the heavy tread of the troops, the jingling of accoutrements, the rumble of cannon. • Long live the Emperor Alexander ! Long live our liberators!' yelled the Parisians; and at the words the watchers withdrew their heads, and the bigger of them slammed down the window with such violence that its frame rattled, and one of its panes was cracked across. He was a man who in any company would have attracted attention. Tall and very strongly built, with coal-black hair, swarthy complexion, and a commanding presence. Carlo Massoni was clearly not one of the common herd. His features were good, but his expression unpleasant. He wore an habitual scowl, which just then was more apparent than usual. 'Do you hear them, Emile d'Herbois 7' he said to his companion, with a gesture of disdain. The latter nodded, and swore softly to himself. He presented a marked contrast to the man Massoni, being a short, slim creature, with a thin and anxious face, his hair turning gray, though he did not look much above fifty. His eyes, light blue in colour, were set so closely in his head that they gave him a sinister appearance, while he seemed unable to remain at rest, his fingers twitching, his feet moving hither and thither, his whole body full of a nervous energy. He reminded one of a weasel. * Well,' said Massoni impatiently, * and what do you think of it all ?' ' Nay,' answered the other opinion, Carlo, my friend,' lie Ill 'J J|'! i r, CT 42 VENGEANCE IS MINE wiilf^fS!!°"' ^.^^ve^I see/ replied his companion, with the suspicion of a sneer. ' Well, at any rate I. Carlo Massoni, am not afraid to sp^ak my mTnd My opinion is that our time is comin/' ^ He flung himself into a chair, and ifixed his dark eyes on the man before him, who had begun pacfn. the floor with quick, uneven steps, but who at wl words wheeled round and faced him. Very good,' said he, ' and the money, Carlo ? In these days nothing can be done without n)oney.' . Irue, there seems little hope of raising it here in Pans, at any rate. Yonder scum will dance to anyone who will pipe to them ' noito"?' '° '^^" ^'* ^^"'' *° °"^ P^^yi"^- I« it *' Rf,t whYf -f f"^' ^°^" ^' ^""' ^"^ "ot till then.' But what if I see a way to do so ?' Ihe other sprang to his feet. 'Do you mean anything, or are vou ^n^tino vaguely?' he cried ' Have^u a^planT ^'"^^"^ ' I h^a^'e nTplan"'^ ''''"'°^^' ^^^""^^ ^^ walk; ' Then what the d ' 'I have no plan, most impatient of men but I thmkj have the money. Yer. I thinlc I can safely ' You would weary a saint with your mysteries Can you not come to the point ?' '"ysteries. • I am coming, but you will kindly allow me to take my own way of getting there,' snapped the o her, producmg a snuff-box, into which he thrus? h.s.long, thm nose, as if he were a fowl dabbing at .'uTket^i^tXtT"^' ■''"^''^" -"-'-^'' 'No"'th"?''' T """'' ''''^•J """ thankful to say." iNo, that IS true ennntrh • o o»J^*; ,/ . _.. J „ j-uai: c WUUia SUlt THE CONSPIRATORS 43 r mysteries. impetuous, too fiery, to wuuia suit you better. You are too make a good conspirator.' • But not too weak to wring your neck, Monsieur d'Herbois.' 'Precisely, but too wise. We do not kill the goose ; you know the old saw.' • It is these golden eggs I would fain see.' ' Then I will be frank with you. My sister, a woman whom it is fortunate you never met, as she was possessed of considerable beauty ' • If you will forgive me saying so, that is difficult to realize.' • I will not only forgive you, my dear Carlo, I will explain. All the good looks in our family passed me by and settled upon her; but come, we have trifled with words long enough. My sister, God rest her soul ! married an American, against my wishes, it is true, though the man was a good Republican. I foolishly quarrelled with her over this trifling matter, and now she is lost to me. As you know, I am not a man of warm emotions, like you of the sunny South, but all my affections were centred on this, my only sister, my only near relative in fact. Her husband, a very wealthy man, died several years ago; but even then I would not forgive her. She herself passed to her rest at the close of last year, leaving behind her a daughter, a girl who must now be nearly twenty years of age. This daughter she committed to my care, with the management— you follow me. Carlo? — with the management of her affairs. Does this give you a clue ?' * Sapristi !' the nose on noble use.' * Very good, but what of the giri, my niece ?' * I do not think,' said Massoni with a coarse laugh, 'that your conscience will trouble vou much about the girl' exclaimed your face. the other; *it is plain as You put this money to a 44 VENGEANCE IS MINE * Indeed 1' snapped Monsieur d'Herbois. ' Then let me tell you that you are sadly mistaken. Had this girl come to me, not a penny of her money would I have touched, save to invest it for her, and put it to the best advantage; but the girl has not come.' ' Then where is she ?* * With her mother, I fear. Her ship, the Auvergne, should have reached Havre a month ago. She was under the captain's care, who was to have seen her safe in my keeping. Neither ship, captain, nor niece has been heard of since they left New York. From incoming vessels I learn that there have been heavy storms in the Atlantic. The Auvergne, I believe, has foundered. In the event of the girl's death this fortune passes to me. When, therefore, I am certain that it is mine by right, it will be at the disposal of our unhappy country, which, thanks to a tyranny worse than any Bourbon's, is now the prey of every filthy foreigner.' * And when will you be sure, Emile ?' 'There is no immediate hurry. At present we must watch and wait. As far as I can see, those who have now the ordering of affairs will do one of three things : they will make peace with Napoleon, establish a regency, or restore Louis.' * Which will be the more likely ?' ' The last, friend Carlo, or I am much mistaken. They have the power just now, and the Emperor, thank God ! is helpless.' * I would he were dead 1' cried the other vehe- mently. 'Others besides you will utter the same wish before we are finished with him,' said d'Herbois. * but for our purpose a regency would be the best. No one is ever satisfied with a Regent, and they would soon learn to hail a President and an Assembly as a happy deliverance. And now what of yourself?' THE CONSPIRATORS 45 The question was a natural one. These men had seen nothing of each other for ten long years-ten years which had sufficed to change the face of Europe, which had been amongst the most eventful in the world's history. Carlo Massoni was a Corsican, who, like another of that island, had adopted France as his country when a mere lad. Unlike that other, his career had been a signal failure. Of good birth, with an ample . share of health, if not of money, he had quitted his native mountains, and wandered to Pans. Clever, but vicious, he had idled and wasted his time, while other men, grasping the chances that lay ready to their hands, had risen during the terrible epoch which convulsed the whole land, but especially its capital. Eventually he became a servant m the famous Jacobin club, and came under the notice ot one of its most active members, a man considerably older than himself, named Emile d'Herbois. Emile d'Herbois was of a type by no means common at that time. For one thing, he was strictly honest and disinterested. He was a Jacobin be- cause he firmly believed that the salvation of France lay in a republican government, and he devoted all his talents, which were not inconsiderable, to the furtherance of his views. But though honest him- self, he had no scruples in making use of any kind of man who might suit his purpose. He perceived that Massoni possessed just those qualities which he himself lacked— a dauntless courage, a fine physique, and a recklessness which, if controlled, might do much. He was able to help this Corsican on several occasions, and a friendship grew up between them, never very great, it is true, but firm enough to enable them to work together harmoniously, and with a single eye to the object in view. D'Herbois was the master spirit, and where he \^A Ayfooc^r.,- f,^lir,wpH. Such a combination of cun- ning and cdurage, of shrewd caution and heedless 46 VENGEANCE IS MINE daring, might have achieved great things, had not the shadow ot the First Consul blotted out all hopes of a democracy. D'Herbois accepted the situation with a good grace. He was one of those men who are content to wait if only they see some chance of eventually obtaining their desires. Massoni, hot-blooded and rash, could neither brook delay nor advice. He ventured to pit his strength against that of the rising power and was promptly vanquished. There- after d'Herbois, who had warned him in vain, lost sight of him, but now he had again turned up at the very time that d'Herbois's brain was once more beginning to plot and plan. The older man had recognised Napoleon's great- ness, ,nd wisely bowed before it, but he had also seen that an Empire founded upon military power and on that alone was not likely to be stable. It had lasted longer than he had thought possible, but the crash had come at last. It was then with a genuine pleasure that he had stumbled across Carlo Massoni, who had fallen upon evil days, and in- habited the attic from which they viewed the occu- pation of Paris by the three great Powers. That pleasure was quickly modified. This Massoni, as he quickly recognised, was not the man he had once known, a youth with lofty ideals and a high sense of honour, despite his lax code of morals and native indolence. The man before him looked like a needy adventurer consumed with ideas of re- venge. He doubted hugely if he could again direct and control him, but of this doubt he showed never a sign. Massoni was free and easy, but this Emile d'Herbois did not resent. He was singularly devoid of personal conceit and was merely amused at his companion's offhand manner. Still, he had need ol help. Jacobinism had changed with the times. There were icw^ oi any importunce WiiO now ti6;d his opinions ; and if he was to form a party, he must THE CONSPIRATORS 47 begin with recruits of whom he knew something and whom he could trust. r • a.^ nrthought it wise to take this man so far into his confidfnce ; but before going further, he was anxious to hear what had befallen h.m. and so to get an idea of the changes ten years had wrought in "'^ ^n^'S^rp.r.s sake and dnnk a Tble boule in the cupboard which I am not ashamed *° 'to, Tthink you. As I grow older I grow more abstemious, friend Carlo-a hab.t you would do well '°Wang your philosophy! A short life and a merrv one for me. You are a queer fellow, Em.le , you7min him. But in those days Kintyre and the western isles were nearly as far from civilisation as is St. Kilda at the present time. I m 64 VENGEANCE IS MINE and though Mr. Quill, of the firm of Quill and Driver of Glasgow, had been apprised of his cUem's decease It might be some time ere he put in an appearancl' As a matter of fact, he had started on recefpt of the news, but had been seized with illness on the road and was further delayed by hav.ng to return oZe to pressmg and important business. Hrk-tter of apology under any other circumstances would have proved highly exasperating to both br. 't^rs Mh was, neither regretted his tardiness a^ tpr'evemed their visitor setting off to join her rdatives'^^laris Both men were already sorely smitten by her charms herth^l '.'"fJi' ^"''''- ?" ^"^ =" fr«h and new to her that she did not much mind her enforced deten- tion and she certainly could not compkfn of ™e treatment accorded her. Her life had hitherto been very peaceful and colourless, for though money was at her command, her mother had been a Kl nvahd, who could not bear town life, and thev had lived m retirement. Kate's pleasu.es had beeif few was well read, ana possessed considerable talent Indeed, she was ignoi.-ntof the fine qualities of her voice, which, had it been trained ir.ight have been a f°rt""« '" ''=«'f- She san« like a^ bird-simp"v unaffectedly, and it was not long before Ne™d s' covered this and had overcome hfr natural shlness at singing before strangers. There was a spS f -! ^ v.°"f 7^'=''.''?'' belonged to his dead n, "tier and he had heard her accompanying herself upon ii to a plaintive negro melody. But ere this he had learned all she had to tell about herself With the candour of youth and of her country, she had told him unaffectedly of her father, a strong-minded hard-headed American, who on a visit to Par s had fallenm love with, and carried away as his wife, the bright and vivacious Lucie d'Herbois. She snoke of her wealth, of the uncle to wL.m she had beergoing when disaster overtook the Auver^n,. With ,°I."! THE RIVALS 65 !■ in her fine eyes she recounted the perils of the voyage and the heroism of her faithful negro • but it was not in hei rature to be sad. To begin with, she was attracted by GeoUrey, who was essentially manly, and Neil at their fii t inter- view had appeared in a very unpleasant light. A few days sufficed to change her opinions. She had known men like Geoffrey Darroch, but had never come across anyone remotely resembling the younger brother, and the novel is always interesting. Such men, spread thickly with the varnish of re- serve, scarcely existed in her country, where life was too hard, the struggle for existence in a new land too absorbing, to permit the study of how best to cloak one's real feelings from the world, not from any shame or desire to deceive, but as a method of gaming self-confidence and assuring originality. She was puzzled and, so strong a factor is woman's vanity, a little piqued by Neil's cool in- difference, and his delight in drawing her into political discussions where she felt herself at a loss, though in reality she astonished the shrewd lawyer by her quick decision and ready argument. What first installed him in her favour was the fact that he, like herself, could claim a French origin. It was characteristic of him, however, after acknowledging this fact, to make as little of it as pQSsible, just as though he regretted to find they had anything in common, whereas he was secretly congratulating himself on his Gallic descent. ' Strange, is it not, Miss Ingleby ?' he remarked, on learning that her mother was a Frenchwoman, ' that I also owe my mother, who rests yonder on the hillside, to my father's meeting with a fair French lass.' ' Is that really so ?* she said eagerly ; ' then,' with a roguish laugh, * I am not so much an enemy as you were pleased to make out.' By this time she had learned that the speech 5 66 VENGEANCE IS MINE which joke. had so incensed her was but a harmless reeard" mv 'Fr.°n'.h' ^""^^?.^ g^^^^^y J ' but I cannot regard my French connection as very strong Mv mother, on both sides of her house, could trice her ofTrfoffi^''^ to a Scottish ancestry to the marriage of an officer of Louis Eleventh's guard with a young Scotchwoman, who was being educated in France.' 1 hen I guess you are not proud of your French origin ?' she said regretfully. ^rencn He glanced at her with a curious smile, which changed into a frown as his brother blundered into the conversation. «cicu luiu ''}^}}^ .f^^ ^"® deference to you, Miss Inelebv ' said Geoffrey loftily^ 'I never ^saw r^ch in tL French myself; a vain and shallow race I call 'em Of course,' he added graciously, ' there are exceD- tions ; I speak of them as a whole ' ^ Fr.trU ^uV'^^''!t'^ ' '^""> ^'•acked voice in l^rench, shaking with excitement. They one and all had forgotten Monsieur Deschamps' presence, but he was prepared to champion his people The old man had^isen to Hi/firi; ^"^'"^^^"g^ ^"f sputtering with vehemence. Wis hrst words were plain enough, but, mastered by his passion, he poured out a string of disconnected sentences, speaking so fast, so volubly, that of the three who heard him, the girl alone could catch his meaning. ^^ NeO listened with astonishment. This man was not the gentle soft-spoken Charles Deschamps of II ^°f 'T^^ ^* ^^' P^^^" that for some rea^n or nlrrnM? ^^^.T?'"^^"^ ^ ^,'^^^ ^"^'P^t^yto Geoffrey fhTv A I ^* ^"^ gentleman, angered at being thus bearded in presence of a stranger, rose suddenl? without pausing to reflect, and ordered Monsie,^ Deschamps to quit his table. The old man, whose gust of rage had passed, and ■ —'J- t-f-'^p.xi.s.iiiiii oiuiie amiauiy on THE RIVALS 67 the company, was once more awed by Geoffrey's harshness, which on this occasion was without excuse. , •, r Rising, he was about to do as he was bid, for all the world like a rebellious child who had become scared and penitent, when Neil interfered. • Nonsense,' he said decisively but cheerily ; * sit down, uncle, and eat your dinner.' Reassured immediately, the old fellow resumed his seat and, quaintly enough, bowed his head and asked a blessing, as if he were just beginning, and had no recollection of what had passed. His action prevented a storm. Even Geoffrey, who had been on the point of asserting his authority, could not forbear smiling, and nothing more was said, Neil adroitly changing the conversation ; but Kate Ingleby saw and understood, and this was her first insight into the characters of the two men into whose lives she had come so strangely. Later, from Teeny, she learned the story of her rescue, though by no means the whole story ; and, impulsive and full of gratitude, she took an early opportunity of thanking Neil. She met him on the road to Shiachan, for the fishing village had great attractions for her, and he confessed to himself that she looked more than pretty as she approached him. The fresh but balmy sea air — for it was a day like that which had graced Ian Darroch's funeral— gave colour to her usually pale cheeks, a colour which was intensified by her resolve ; her face, half hidden by the great straw bonnet she wore, and which had been his mother's, appeared to him more charming than ever. It was not merely well-shaped, with a pair of eyes which could sparkle as finely as they could look dreamy and wistful, with a dainty nose and a rosebud of a mouth, but it was full of intelli- gence ; her brow was thoughtful, and there was a oleasant mingling of dignity and vivacity in her expression. 5— a 11 .'I 68 VENGEANCE IS MINE Ke told himself that here one found the charac a^ hatloh? '?^^^-^-the piquancy of the French, and that sober judgment and keen intellect which he understood was characteristic of the womin of America, as well as of its sons. women oi his'£l^1;VhT'''^/T^''' 1"^^"^^'' ^^id he, raising his hat slightly It is a fine day, is it not ?' I thouSt'thl. f!j'^ concurred. 'Do you know, Dar^och/ ^''^ "°*^'°^ ^"^ rain here, Mr. twile i^hl: !yr' ^^'^ ^^^^' -^h '^^ ^-test She looked puzzled, but gave a little nod of assent. I was wishing to see you.' she went on rather of th s ml^' 'V""' "^^; if anything, a trifl" afrafd 01 tms man. You must think me very ungrateful.' ; I cannot say that idea occurred to me.' horrM'' ^^' °°^ ' ^"* ^" ^^" '^"^^' I have felt 'And looked the reverse,' said Neil with an ' No, but you must have taken trouble : I know ' Oh • Ttt"' ''it—' She ..topped'ionfused f edtep.scre u^^t t ?^I btk^ of ^r wordT^'a'ouVr'^'"^"' <''^ '^"^ -phasis-ofSf She saw his allusion. M^^T^"i_T"y ? ^as rude.' she said; 'but when .r^x. x.-axiucn spoice I could not help myself.' THE RIVALS 69 * No,' said Neil ; * Geoffrey is not always in the best of taste, though, of course, he was ignorant of your presence.' * He has been very polite since,' she replied ; and Neil did not like her taking up the* cudgels on his brother's behalf. 'Very,' said he, and again raising his hat, left her and continued his walk. His abrupt manner very naturally hurt the girl, and she promptly went and made herself most gracious to the laird, who, anxious to appear well in her sight— he remembered her account of her father's wealth— eschewed the bottle, and though he grumbled at being forced to stay on at Darroch, behaved as pleasantly as his selfish and arrogant nature would allow. Geoffrey Darroch had his good points, for few men are wholly bad. He was weak rather than wicked, and certainly just then he did his best to appear as a virtuous and respect- able member of society, even if he could not conceal his dislike of Neil and Monsieur Deschamps. His encounter with the latter had sensibly weakened his position with Kate Ingleby. Once she heard the old Frenchman's tragic story, her sympathy was roused, and sympathy with her meant more than a mere feeling of interested pity. She became the old man's companion. To his supreme delight she spoke with him in French. He was never tired of conversing with her, and followed her about like a dog. Neil found himself supplanted in his uncle's affections, and inwardly was much tickled by the old fellow's devotion. He himself was a fair French scholar, and would sometimes join in their chatter, but he had no facility in the use of idioms, and was frequently at a loss to understand them, much to his uncle's diversion. * No, no,' he would say ; * your accent is atrocious ! You spoil all the beauty, all the elegance ; but made- moiselle, she is wonderful, and yet you say she has * I ^^1 70 VENGEANCE IS MINE ?nr i, ! n 1 ^'^T- ^u^ '^ ^°'"&' ^^' that is sad tor me ! Only perhaps when I am restored to health I also will return, and then we shall have ereat times. The Court, they say, is the finest in Europe ! Yes yes, I shall see it again!' and away he would go, humming to himself some snatch of verse with a catching chorus and but little meaning, which perhaps had been m vogue when he paraded in the Bois or sauntered in the avenues at Versailles The girl's kindness to his uncle, who was often, without the least intending it, troublesome and exacting, was not lost on such a close observer as Neil Dairoch. He admired her patience, and still more the brave way she bore up under the misfor- tunes which had befallen her. She had not been beggared, it is true ; this uncle Emile of whom she spoke had already charge of the fortune left her bv her father, but at one fell swoop her own private possessions, her wardrobe, her trinkets, those things so dear to every woman of her age, had been torn w^. • r \^* l^^ ""^^^^ h^^P^d upon her loss. What grief she showed was for her black servant, whom Neil never mentioned, but whose body he almost wished he had brought ashore, when he saw the girl looking wistfully at the sea, with unshed llth '"^ ^^^® heads of dew upon her long He guessed her thoughts, and knew well that she telt lonely and depressed, but never a word of com- tort passed his lips. He was struggling with himself, for was he not a poor man, who could speak no word of love to any woman, least of all to one who was possessed of ample means ? And yet she was dependent on Geoffrey. This was what galled him. No doubt he had written at her request to Monsieur d Herbois, and knew that she intended repayin- his brother, for she made no secret of her wish to be free from any obligation; but, as things were, "'-"»,"'^'" auj uuiigauon; out, as Ueoffrey had some kind of hnlH nr^.^r, he THE RIVALS 71 himself was merely a guest, a guest in the old house which had been his home, and which this Anglicized Scot cared nothing about. Kate Ingleby, however, was interested in it, and this constituted some bond of union between them. She never wearied of listening to what he had to tell her of the history of his clan, of old Ian Darroch, of the Pitlochie smugglers, and even of the great rebellion. Of himself he rarely spoke, and this the giri was quick to note and approve ; Geoffrey, on the other hand, was, if amusing and at times interesting, distinctly vainglorious. His talk ran on horses, on cards, duels, and prize-fighters — on the fashionable circles in which he moved, and of which, according to himself, he was no mean ornament. Neil, who from his brief intercourse with the man had thought him a besotted fool, was forced to alter his views. Geoffrey Darroch had seen life, and knew how to describe it. In the company of men with whom he had no tastes in common he was dull and rude, but with kindred spirits he was a different being, and the same held true when the spur of vanity goaded him to exertion. It was so now, and it is not to be wondered at that Kate Ingleby found him enter- taining. His compliments were deHcate enough. Strictly speaking, he was a more taking man than the quiet, clean-shaven advocate, and the American knew nothing to his discredit. Neil saw that she listened to his step-brother attentively, and chafed inwardly. What he did not see — for the cleverest men in his condition are often blind — was that Kate's sharp eyes had penetrated his mask, and that she was amusing herself at his expense. She could not help it ; she was young, unsophisti- cated, full of health and spirits, and a little in- toxicated by the unwonted attentions paid her. Besides. » mixture of French and American blood I 72 VENGEANCE IS MINE IS not conducive to the formation of a youthful prude or an old maid, especially when its owner is not yet tvventy, has a face and figure fashioned to turn men s heads, and is robed in a costume more befittmg the stage than prosaic everyday life. Therefore, the girl played with fire in perfect innocence, despite her occasional sauciness and glimpses of shrewd mother-wit, and fanned the flame which had already been kindled between the grandsons of Ian Darroch. ,{\y^%/Sr^^^ that Mr. Quill should take charge ot Miss Kate, and see to her safe conduct to Paris ; but both men devoutly hoped that he would be in no haste to put in an appearance. Geoffrey had at first been solely influenced by the mention the girl made of her worldly possessions, but he was too much of a sensualist not to be attracted by her uncommon beauty. Neil's surrender was that of a man who has met his fate. He kept a close watch on himself, how- ?7ru^' and fondly beheved his secret was his own. Whether his brother guessed the real state of his ieelings or not, one thing is certain : unfriendly from the first, each now regarded the other as a rival. CHAPTER VIII. FACE TO FACE CAPTAIN VAN HAGEN, skipper of the smuggling lugger Tyfel, was beyond all doubt an extremely ugly man. He was like nothing so much as a huge codfish, with his soft, flabby face, his bulging eyes, distended nose, and great clumsy mouth, which for ever kept opening and shutting as he mechanically chewed tobacco. The resemblance was heightened by the greasy curl of beard, whirh ri«»nAnrJoW fj-nm Ui,^ ^i,;., J -•_____•_, -1 1 FACE TO FACE 11 reminded one of the barbule of the foul-feeding cod. His body was rotund but powerful, his legs short, his bodily presence, in fact, contemptible, but he was no fool. An excellent seaman, a good commander, and a daring runner of contraband, he was both callous and rapacious. He was like a fish in soul as well as in face — a cold-blooded, greedy Dutch- man, but he had the courage of a pike. He lay upon his stomach behind one of the rocks on the Croban Point, and with a telescope surveyed the coast-line from the distant Stacks, along the cliffs to the mouth of the Whipple, and the curving sands which ran from the estuary to where the Croban jutted seawards. One of the Pitlochie gang, no other than the man whom Neil Darroch had sent overboard nearly a fortnight before, crouched by his side, and puffed solemnly at a cutty pipe. The lugger Tyfd, whose colour suited her name, lay at anchor with her topmasts struck to the south of the promontory, and so was concealed from the view of any in Shiachan or Darroch House. As a rule, she hid behind the Stacks, but Captain Van Hagen had been met by a boatload of the free- traders, with the sad information that his old friend Ian Darroch was no more, and that the crofts of Pitlochie were to be deserted. On receipt of this news, Van Hagen had sworn vigorously, for he had been chased from the Solway, and had on board a valuable cargo of schnapps and other commodities upon which a verdomde Govern- ment exacted duty. He was a slow thinker, and so found holding ground for his vessel behind the Croban, and re- viewed the situation. It was only an hour after daybreak, but the skipper was an early riser, and had gone ashore with Jan Holland, a man after his own heart, half Dutch, half English, who, after HiaKincr C*»\7