"Methinks I should know him who runs so wildly," said Catharine.
"But if it be he I think of, some wild thoughts are urging his
speed."
As she spoke, the runner directed his course to the garden. Louise's
little dog ran to meet him, barking furiously, but came back, to
cower, creep, and growl behind its mistress; for even dumb animals
can distinguish when men are driven on by the furious energy of
irresistible passion, and dread to cross or encounter them in their
career. The fugitive rushed into the garden at the same reckless
pace. His head was bare, his hair dishevelled, his rich acton and
all his other vestments looked as if they had been lately drenched
in water. His leathern buskins were cut and torn, and his feet marked
the sod with blood. His countenance was wild, haggard, and highly
excited, or, as the Scottish phrase expresses it, much "raised."
"Conachar!" said Catharine, as he advanced, apparently without
seeing what was before him, as hares are said to do when severely
pressed by the greyhounds. But he stopped short when he heard his
own name.
"Conachar," said Catharine, "or rather Eachin MacIan, what means
all this? Have the Clan Quhele sustained a defeat?"
"I have borne such names as this maiden gives me," said the fugitive,
after a moment's recollection. "Yes, I was called Conachar when
I was happy, and Eachin when I was powerful. But now I have no
name, and there is no such clan as thou speak'st of; and thou art
a foolish maid to speak of that which is not to one who has no
existence."
"Alas! unfortunate - "
"And why unfortunate, I pray you?" exclaimed the youth. "If I am
coward and villain, have not villainy and cowardice command over
the elements? Have I not braved the water without its choking me,
and trod the firm earth without its opening to devour me? And shall
a mortal oppose my purpose?"
"He raves, alas!" said Catharine. "Haste to call some help. He
will not harm me; but I fear he will do evil to himself. See how
he stares down on the roaring waterfall!"
The glee woman hastened to do as she was ordered, and Conachar's
half frenzied spirit seemed relieved by her absence.
"Catharine," he said, "now she is gone, I will say I know thee -
I know thy love of peace and hatred of war. But hearken; I have,
rather than strike a blow at my enemy, given up all that a man calls
dearest: I have lost honour, fame, and friends, and such friends!
(he placed his hands before his face). Oh! their love surpassed
the love of woman! Why should I hide my tears? All know my shame;
all should see my sorrow. Yes, all might see, but who would pity
it? Catharine, as I ran like a madman down the strath, man and woman
called 'shame' on me! The beggar to whom I flung an alms, that I
might purchase one blessing, threw it back in disgust, and with a
curse upon the coward! Each bell that tolled rung out, 'Shame on the
recreant caitiff!' The brute beasts in their lowing and bleating,
the wild winds in their rustling and howling, the hoarse waters in
their dash and roar, cried, 'Out upon the dastard!' The faithful
nine are still pursuing me; they cry with feeble voice, 'Strike
but one blow in our revenge, we all died for you!'"
While the unhappy youth thus raved, a rustling was heard in the
bushes.
"There is but one way!" he exclaimed, springing upon the parapet,
but with a terrified glance towards the thicket, through which one
or two attendants were stealing, with the purpose of surprising
him. But the instant he saw a human form emerge from the cover of
the bushes, he waved his hands wildly over his head, and shrieking
out, "Bas air Eachin!" plunged down the precipice into the raging
cataract beneath.
It is needless to say, that aught save thistledown must have been
dashed to pieces in such a fall. But the river was swelled, and the
remains of the unhappy youth were never seen. A varying tradition
has assigned more than one supplement to the history. It is said
by one account, that the young captain of Clan Quhele swam safe
to shore, far below the Linns of Campsie; and that, wandering
disconsolately in the deserts of Rannoch, he met with Father Clement,
who had taken up his abode in the wilderness as a hermit, on the
principle of the old Culdees. He converted, it is said, the heart
broken and penitent Conachar, who lived with him in his cell, sharing
his devotion and privations, till death removed them in succession.
Another wilder legend supposes that he was snatched from death
by the daione shie, or fairy folk, and that he continues to wander
through wood and wild, armed like an ancient Highlander, but
carrying his sword in his left hand. The phantom appears always in
deep grief. Sometimes he seems about to attack the traveller, but,
when resisted with courage, always flies. These legends are founded
on two peculiar points in his story - his evincing timidity and his
committing suicide - both of them circumstances almost unexampled
in the history of a mountain chief.
When Simon Glover, having seen his friend Henry duly taken care
of in his own house in Curfew Street, arrived that evening at the
Place of Campsie, he found his daughter extremely ill of a fever,
in consequence of the scenes to which she had lately been a witness,
and particularly the catastrophe of her late playmate. The affection
of the glee maiden rendered her so attentive and careful a nurse,
that the glover said it should not be his fault if she ever touched
lute again, save for her own amusement.
It was some time ere Simon ventured to tell his daughter of Henry's
late exploits, and his severe wounds; and he took care to make
the most of the encouraging circumstance, that her faithful lover
had refused both honour and wealth rather than become a professed
soldier and follow the Douglas. Catharine sighed deeply and shook
her head at the history of bloody Palm Sunday on the North Inch. But
apparently she had reflected that men rarely advance in civilisation
or refinement beyond the ideas of their own age, and that a headlong
and exuberant courage, like that of Henry Smith, was, in the iron
days in which they lived, preferable to the deficiency which had
led to Conachar's catastrophe. If she had any doubts on the subject,
they were removed in due time by Henry's protestations, so soon as
restored health enabled him to plead his own cause.
"I should blush to say, Catharine, that I am even sick of the
thoughts of doing battle. Yonder last field showed carnage enough
to glut a tiger. I am therefore resolved to hang up my broadsword,
never to be drawn more unless against the enemies of Scotland."
"And should Scotland call for it," said Catharine, "I will buckle
it round you."
"And, Catharine," said the joyful glover, "we will pay largely for
soul masses for those who have fallen by Henry's sword; and that
will not only cure spiritual flaws, but make us friends with the
church again."
"For that purpose, father," said Catharine, "the hoards of the
wretched Dwining may be applied. He bequeathed them to me; but
I think you would not mix his base blood money with your honest
gains?"
"I would bring the plague into my house as soon," said the resolute
glover.
The treasures of the wicked apothecary were distributed accordingly
among the four monasteries; nor was there ever after a breath of
suspicion concerning the orthodoxy of old Simon or his daughter.
Henry and Catharine were married within four months after the battle
of the North Inch, and never did the corporations of the glovers
and hammermen trip their sword dance so featly as at the wedding
of the boldest burgess and brightest maiden in Perth. Ten months
after, a gallant infant filled the well spread cradle, and was
rocked by Louise to the tune of -
Bold and true,
In bonnet blue.
The names of the boy's sponsors are recorded, as "Ane Hie and Michty
Lord, Archibald Erl of Douglas, ane Honorabil and gude Knicht, Schir
Patrick Charteris of Kinfauns, and ane Gracious Princess, Marjory
Dowaire of his Serene Highness David, umquhile Duke of Rothsay."
Under such patronage a family rises fast; and several of the most
respected houses in Scotland, but especially in Perthshire, and
many individuals distinguished both in arts and arms, record with
pride their descent from the Gow Chrom and the Fair Maid of Perth.