Part 4

The young woman stood and looked after her friend with feelings of surprise, and it was some moments before she became sufficiently self-possessed to try to account for so abrupt a departure. Was he angry with her? His conversation showed the reverse, and his good-nature was a prominent feature of his character. A painful question followed these thoughts: Was he away after the carriage, to realise the suspicion she had been communicating to him by the privilege of love? It seemed too likely; for he had never left her before without many endearing expressions of attachment; and she had observed the sudden change of manner and look which seemed to be produced by the approaching vehicle. All the vague reports she had heard concerning him came in aid of these suspicious appearances; and as she wandered slowly home to Netherwood, where her mother resided, she sunk into a gloomy train of thought, which shadowed forth, on the dim horizon of futurity, disgrace and shame to her lover, and misfortune and death to herself.

The carriage which Maxwell followed under such unfavourable appearances was, as already said, on the route for Gretna. The speed of the horses, and the loud cracking of the whip which propelled them, indicated haste; and the close blinds told of adventure, secresy, and love. Maxwell followed hard; and just as the vehicle turned to take the direction of the village, Black Bess and her rider flew past with the speed of light, and by another path reached the back-door of a small house, where she stopped. Maxwell descended, and tapped lightly at the door.

"David Hoggins," said he, "are you in?"

"Yes," answered the individual addressed; "what's wanted?" And the door was opened by an old man in a Kilmarnock nightcap.

"There's a couple on the road, David," said Maxwell, "dootless in search o' you. The night is gettin dark, and the carriage-lights winna tell them north frae south. I'll wait at the back-door till you try and get me engaged to lead the fugitives out o' danger and the reach o' their pursuers."

"The auld condition, I fancy," said David--"half and half."

"Lively," answered Mike--"quick; the row o' the wheels mak the village ring. There, they're landed. Awa wi' your noose, and dinna let me slip through the loop."

"I'm as sure's a hangman," said David, nodding significantly, and shutting the door, to proceed to the front of the house, where his presence was in great request.

Maxwell stood for a considerable time waiting the issue of his proposal, stroking down occasionally the sleek back of Bess, and at times muttering somewhat irreverent expressions of impatience against David and his customers. At last the door opened.

"They dinna need ye," said David; "Jehu will do their business, though it's clear they're pursued. They're for Berwick, and intend travellin a' nicht. She's a bonny cratur, man; sae young and guileless, and yet sae fond o' the wark, that she wad hae been doin wi' ae witness, to save the time o' gettin anither. As for him, I can see naething o' him for whiskers, the cause, I fear, o' a' the mischief. It's a Chancery touch, doubtless. They're for aff this minute. Five guineas, Mike--ha! ha!" (shutting the door.)

"Five guineas," muttered Maxwell, imitating David's laugh, "and naething for me. Come, Bess, and let us try what our Scottish cunning may do against English treachery. It has filled our purse afore, and I dinna see how it shouldna do't again. If they winna hae us as guides, they canna refuse us (that is, Bess, if your heels keep, as they say, the spur o' your head) as followers; and I hae made as muckle i' the ae capacity as the ither. Come, lass" (throwing himself in the saddle, and clapping her sleek neck as she tossed her head in the air), "come--hark! the wheels row--awa--but whip or spur--awa--we'll try baith their mettle and metal."

As he finished these words, he dashed down the lane, the foot of which he reached just as the carriage containing the buckled lovers passed, at the top of the speed of their spurred horses. It was clear they were afraid of pursuit, and were hastening on to Berwick, to take shipping for the Continent, the usual retreat of all runaway lovers passing through Gretna. Confiding in the abilities of Bess, Mike allowed the carriage to proceed onwards for half-a-mile before he seriously took the way, as he did not wish to be observed following it so near to the village. He kept moving in the middle of the road, reining in Bess, who, having been gratified by the noise of the carriage-wheels, pricked up her ears, pawed the ground, and capered from side to side. Roused by the sound of a strange voice, he started and turned round.

"You've time yet, man," cried Giles Baldwin, a Cumberland man, whose arm Mike had broken at a wrestling-match the year before, and whose suit to Alice Parker he had strangled by her consent. "But her going's like a Scotsman running from an Englishman over the Borders. Were my arm whole, I'd lead Bess's head to the follow. Away, man, or the booty's lost, like the field o' Flodden, before it is won."

"Ye've anither arm to brak, Giles," said Mike, in a low voice. "A craven has nae richt to be impudent till a' his banes are cracked, and then, like the serpent, he may bend and spit his venom. I'll see ye at the next match at Carlisle, and let ye feel the strength o' the grip o' friendship and kind remembrance. Tell Alice, as ye pass Netherwood, that I'm awa after a carriage, to show a couple the way to Berwick. Marriages beget marriages, they say; and she'll maybe tak ye, to be neebor-like, and to get quit o' me, against whom ye hae tried to poison her ear."

Saying these words, Mike bounded away; and gave the Cumberland man no opportunity of replying, otherwise than by bawling out some further impertinence about his successful rival's expectation of booty from the expedition in which he was engaged.

"If I had been to put mysel within the reach o' the arm o' the law," muttered Mike to himself, as he moved rapidly along, "this man's impudence micht hae scared me and saved me; but, thanks to Lewie Threshum, the writer o' Dumfries, I ken what I'm about. I can wring a man, in wrestling, to within an inch o' his life; and cut so close by an act o' parliament, that the leaves o't move by the wind o' my flight. Nae fiscal dare speak to me, sae lang as my Scottish cunning does justice to Threshum's counsel, and my arm defends me against a' ithers. Stretch on, guid Bess, and let me hae twa words wi' the happy couple."

The spirited animal increased her speed, and, in a short time, approached the carriage, which continued to whirl along with great rapidity. A series of quick bounds brought Mike alongside of it. He now saw that the blinds were still up, and the driver so intent upon propelling his horses forward, that he did not know that any one was in pursuit, while the noise of the vehicle prevented the possibility of hearing the soft pattering of Bess's heels. Taking the point of his whip, Mike gave a slight and knowing tap on the carriage-blind, like the announcement of an expected lover. A noise, as of sudden fright and agitation, followed from within.

"A's richt," muttered Mike to himself.

But the blinds were still kept up. He paced on a little further, and, seeing that no answer was returned to his application, repeated the rap a little louder than before.

"Who's there?" cried a rough voice.

"A friend," answered Mike.

"What is your name?" said the other, evidently in agitation.

"I never gie my name through closed doors," answered Mike; "and sae lang as ane acts within the law, there's nae use for imitatin the ways o' jail birds. My name, however, is no unlike your lady's maiden ane--an admission I mak through sheer courtesy and guid manners, and respect for her worthy faither."

The blind was taken down hurriedly, and a face covered with a great profusion of curly black hair presented itself. Mike drew down his hat, so as to cover his face, and, clapping Bess on the neck, paced along at great ease. After trying to scan his countenance, the gentleman seemed at a great loss.

"What is it, sir, that you wish with me?" said he, "or what is your object in thus disturbing peaceable travellers by legal turnpikes?"

"I beg your pardon," replied Mike. "The night is dark, and the road lonely; I thought ye micht hae wished a companion--sma' thanks for my courtesy. The gentlemen in the carriage that's comin up behind, at a speed greater than yours, ken better what is due to Scottish civility. I accompanied them a space, and enjoyed their conversation. They're in search o' twa Gretna fugitives, and wished me to assist them in the pursuit. I'm sorry I left them, seein I hae forgathered wi' ithers wha dinna appreciate fully my motives. I think I canna do better than ask Bess to slacken her pace, and bring me again to the enjoyment o' their society and conversation."

A suppressed scream from a female within followed this speech. The gentleman withdrew his head, to assist the lady; the coachman looked round, and was inclined to halt; but the words, "Drive on!" rang in his ears, and he obeyed. Mike calmly kept his course, clapping Bess's neck occasionally, and pretending not to notice the agitation and confusion within the carriage, where it seemed as if the lady had gone off in a faint. After some time, the same whiskered face appeared at the carriage-window.

"Hark ye, friend," said he, in an agitated tone; "you're a Scotchman, I presume, and must be _up_, as we say in London. What would you take to put the gentlemen in the other carriage _off the scent_?"

"What scent?" asked Mike, gravely.

"The scent of the couple they're after," said the other. "Could you not stimulate their noses with a red herring drag? Don't understand me? Hey, man, quick! What say ye?"

"I understand ye," answered Mike, "mair easily than I can assist ye, I fear. The hounds ken their track owre weel. They're for Berwick direct; but a Scotchman micht maybe send them scamperin to Newcastle--I mean that is possible, barely possible."

"Well, well!--what say ye?" replied the other. "Name your sum. Come, quick!"

"Let me see," said Mike; "by returnin, I may lose the market--a dead loss o' twenty pound, at least. Gie me that, and I'll answer for their being twenty miles on their way to Newcastle by the time ye're twenty miles on to Berwick."

"Here, here, then," said the gentleman, holding out his hand.

Mike met him half-way, and received a handful of guineas, among which was a ring.

"Keep yersel and the braw leddy easy," said he, as he put the money into his pocket. "Drive on, my lad" (to the driver), "and, if ye keep aff the Newcastle road, ye'll no fa' into the hands o' the chancellor."

With these words, Mike drew up Bess's head, turned, and sauntered slowly back to Gretna, gratifying his humour by a few words of soliloquy.

"But whar is the coach, wi' its contents, I was to send on to Newcastle? A principle o' honesty I hae aboot me maks me almost wish for an opportunity o' fulfillin my promise; but a' I undertook to insure was safety, and if they hae safety ony way, they get value for their siller; so, after a', I'm nae cheat. But here's anither coach drivin at deil's speed."

"Holloa! sirrah!" cries a person from the window; "met you a carriage on your way, driving quickly, and with closed blinds, towards Berwick?"

"You'll no likely find what ye want atween this and Berwick," replied Mike. "But I dinna wonder at your speed; I could almost wish to flee after her mysel. Sweet cratur!--she maun be fond o' whiskers."

"Then you have met the carriage!" cried the man, with great vehemence, quickened by the concluding remark of Mike. "Quick, quick--tell us where they are, and whither going. We lose time."

"I lose nane," replied Mike; "I'm saunterin at ony rate, thinkin o' my poverty; are o' the very warst o' a' subjects o' mortal meditation."

"Will money drag a direct answer from you, sir?" cried the man.

"No; but it will draw it out o' me as smoothly as oil," replied Mike.

"Here, then," said the other, handing him some--"will that satisfy you?"

"Double it," said Mike, "and I'll halve your labour."

The eagerness of the pursuers forced a ready compliance.

"The lady and gentleman you are in quest o'," said Mike, "hae changed their minds, and are on to Newcastle. They gave out Berwick as a decoy--an hour's ridin will bring ye up to them. But, hark ye! I have acted honourably by you--you maun do the same by me; and, therefore, when ye come up to the fugitives, ye will act discreetly, and say naething o' your informer. A nod's as guid's a wink----ye ken the rest."

The pursuers took no time to reply, but flew off at full speed to Newcastle, while Mike sought, at his ease, his mother's house, at a little distance from Gretna. About two hours after he arrived, a loud knock came to the door. Mike himself opened it.

"Is your name Mike Maxwell?" said a man habited like a sheriff-officer.

"It is," said Mike; "and wha in thae parts doesna ken me, either by grip or sicht?"

"It's by the first I get my acquaintance o' folk," said the officer, as he seized his prisoner. "I apprehend ye in the name o' the king, for highway robbery, committed on a lady and gentleman bound for Berwick."

Maxwell threw himself back, and, freeing himself from the grasp of the man, laid him, by one blow, at his feet. His humour was gratified; and, laughing boisterously, he lifted the messenger from the ground.

"That was merely for your impudence," said Mike. "I'm owre confident o' innocence, either to fecht or flee. A present is nae robbery--they gied me what I got o' their ain free-will and accord; and, if this is the way they tak to get their gifts back again, I can only say that the presents o' the English to the Scotch are like their blows--weel returned."

"Then you admit having the property of the lady and gentleman," said a second officer, who, attended by a concurrent, now came up. "We must search you."

"There's nae occasion for that," said Mike; "there's the guineas and the ring."

"But where is the portmanteau and the papers?" said the officer, as he took the gold. "Search the house, Jem, while we hold him; the hen's no far off when the chicken whistles."

The man searched the house. Mike looked surprised and confused, and suspected they had mistaken their man. He told them he had taken no portmanteau, and expressed total ignorance of what they meant. The men only laughed at him; they had got a damning evidence against him already--the ring, which had carved on it the initials "C. B." (Charles Beachum), the individual who had been robbed; and they did not require to hesitate an instant about his apprehension. They therefore carried him direct to Dumfries Jail.

Next morning, the news had spread far and wide that Mike Maxwell had been apprehended for highway robbery; he and another individual, unknown, having, on the previous night, attacked a travelling-carriage, knocked down the driver, wounded the gentleman, frightened the lady, and carried off a portmanteau filled with valuable articles, and particularly many important documents, together with the gentleman's diamond ring (which had been found on Maxwell's person), and other things of great value. On being examined, Maxwell thought it best to tell (with a slight exception) the truth; that he had followed the carriage to inform the runaway couple that they were pursued, and had received the money and the ring for undertaking to disappoint their pursuers. He kept the secret to himself, that when he got the money he did not know, certainly, that there were any persons in pursuit, and had therefore obtained it on false pretences; but, even with this prudent qualification, his examination was held to be just as complete an admission of the highway robbery as any criminal ever uttered, under the excitement of fear or the promise of pardon. The great desideratum was the portmanteau, which the robbers had carried off; and this, by the request of Captain Beachum, who had left instructions to that effect at the next inn, as he proceeded onwards, was searched for by many individuals, under promise of a very high reward.

About two hours after his examination, Maxwell was told that a young woman wished to get in to see him. He knew at once who it was; and the jailer, who was an old acquaintance, permitted her to enter.

"The secret that is denied to true love," said Alice, as she stood before Mike, looking at him sorrowfully and dignifiedly, "is sometimes told to the king. You hate my country, yet an Englishwoman would have saved you, if your confidence had been equal to the love you have expressed for me. When I asked you how you lived, you told me that a lover requires little food. How much, Mike Maxwell, does a prisoner within these walls either require or get? What avails your Scottish cunning now, and how much does it transcend English honesty? But, thank heaven, I have made a narrow escape! What would your strength, your fair face, and manly bearing, which have made such conquests at our country games, have yielded me of pride or pleasure, if I had been wedded to a _robber_? Is it possible that that word and Mike Maxwell claim kindred?--that Alice Parker, who treasured up your image in her bosom as a sacred thing, or a charm against the evil eye, should this day be doomed to the pain of saying that that hateful word and the name of her heart's choice are one and the same? Miserable hour!"

"Alice," replied Maxwell, "I did you injustice. I should have confided everything to your bosom; but I didna require to pollute that pure casket wi' the confidence o' a robber. I am nae robber--the first man wha said the word was laid in an instant at my feet, and sae should a' slanderers be served. I defy Scotland and England to prove Mike Maxwell a robber."

"The ring you have given up to the sheriff," said Alice, "is proof against you."

"Ha, Alice," replied Mike, laughing, "rings are dangerous things. Was the ane I got frae you, wi' a plait o' that raven hair in't, a sign o' robbery?"

"Would to heaven that it had been such a sign!" said the maiden; "I would not then have had to lament this miserable hour, and this dreadful night." (Pausing.) "But can it be, Mike, that you are so hardened in vice that you can laugh in a jail?"

"And why no, my love, if ane is innocent?" replied Maxwell. "I am indebted for this apprehension to some enemy--probably my rival, Giles Baldwin--who has got up a story about a portmanteau that never was stolen; and my honesty in confessin that I got the ring frae the gentleman for puttin the English beagles wha pursued him aff the scent, has gien the lee some colour o' truth. Conscious as I am o' my innocence, I am determined to keep up my spirits, laugh at my enemies till I get out, and then mak game o' their banes, by giein them joints whar nature never intended them to be."

"You have often, in playfulness, mocked me, Mike," answered she, "and turned the inquiries of my love into questions to myself, by the force of your Scottish humour; but I bear faith that you never told me a lie. Yet, when I think of the mystery of your life, your secresy, the strange way in which you left me last night, to make after the carriage, your admission concerning the ring, and many other circumstances, I must also admit that my heart is not satisfied. I cannot help it. Even my love, unbounded as it is, does not enable me to vanquish a cold feeling that, like the shivering of an ague, creeps over my skin. I cannot say I _disbelieve_ you; but oh, what would I not give for _proof_ to still this restless aching heart!" (Pausing.) "That proof, Mike, I _shall_ have. The unpretending Englishwoman, whose counsel the wily Scotchman despised, shall now try to redeem the character of her countrywomen, and show that love and honesty are stronger than wiles and secresy."

"Weel said, heroine Alice!" cried Mike, still laughing. "Ye intend to mak me guilty, to increase the glory o' your efforts to save me; but, thanks to the laws o' our country, there's nae great merit in savin an innocent man. I defy a' my faes, and wad prefer a kiss o' my bonny Alice" (clasping her to his bosom), "to a' her noble endeavours to do that which innocence itsel will do for her lover."

"We stand at present on a _new_ footing, Mike," said she, as she struggled to get free, and retired back. "I must have my _proof_. Till then, farewell!"

"Noble wench!" said Mike, as she departed. "However I may dislike her suspicions, I canna but admire her guidness and spirit. But Lewie Threshum will goon blaw awa this cloud, wi' the wind o' the leaves o' Stair or Mackenzie, and a' will shine bright again on Alice Parker and Mike Maxwell."

The views and feelings of Alice were very different: she suspected her lover, and the thought was death to her; yet her native nobility of soul urged her to the task of draining every source of evidence to prove his innocence. She called on Lewis Threshum, who had undertaken Mike's defence, and learned from him, what pained her to the uttermost, that the evidence, so far as it went, was loaded with heavy presumptions against the prisoner. A letter had been lodged in the hands of the fiscal, from Captain Beachum, stating that the robbery was committed at a distance of about ten miles from Gretna; that the perpetrators were two ruffians, mounted on good horses; that they had taken the portmanteau filled with valuable papers, and also his purse, containing a balance of twenty-two guineas, and a diamond ring, marked "C. B.;" all of which they carried off in the direction of Gretna. The letter contained authority to the Lord Advocate to prosecute the perpetrators, and recover the articles. The ring and guineas, _minus two_, had been found on Mike Maxwell, within some hours of the robbery. Then Giles Baldwin had sworn that he saw Mike Maxwell in full pursuit after the carriage some short time before the robbery was committed; and some other individuals swore that they saw him return to Gretna some time after, mounted on his black mare. In addition to all this, was Mike's improbable examination, which seemed of itself to be conclusive of the case. This appeared to Alice overpowering, especially when she added to it what she herself had witnessed--the arrival of the carriage, and the precipitate retreat of Mike, at a time when it was _impossible_ he could know that there was (according to his theory) any carriage coming up in pursuit of the other.

She went home, sad and disconsolate, and passed the remaining part of the day and the night in the greatest misery. She revolved in her head various schemes for eliciting something favourable to her lover; but the absence of Captain Beachum, who could alone give any account of the circumstances attending the alleged robbery, formed a bar to her inquiries which she could not overleap. As she sat next evening, musing on the unfortunate current of events that cast her from the elevation of the pride of one who possessed the favour of the most proper and comely man of the Borders, to the shame of the confidential friend and lover of a robber, who might shortly be hanged, after associating, on the scaffold, her name with his sorrows--she was roused from her grief by a tap at the window. She started. It was Mike's rap, and the very hour at which he generally visited her. She flew to the window, thinking he had escaped, and had thus come to communicate the joyful tidings.

"Is it possible? It is not you, Mike?" she said, lowly.

"No, but it is his friend," said a voice she thought she knew.

"What friend?" said she; "and with what object does he call here?"

"Names have a dangerous odour," said the other, "when the beagles are out and snuffing every breeze for the scent of red game. You wish Mike Maxwell well--you visited him yesterday; would you aid in his escape?"