HEARTS AND THE HIGHWAY

A ROMANCE OF THE ROAD

First set forth by Lady Katharine Clanranald and Sir Hugh Richmond and now transcribed by Cyrus Townsend Brady

Author of "The Island of Regeneration," "The Better Man," etc.

WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS By F. C. YOHN

A. L. BURT COMPANY PUBLISHERS NEW YORK

COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY THE CROWELL PUBLISHING COMPANY

COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY

Published, March 1911

Dedicated to MRS. HARRIETTE ROSCOE ELLARD

AND HER DEVOTED ASSOCIATES IN THE LIVELIEST AND MOST ENTHUSIASTIC WOMAN'S AUXILIARY SOCIETY THAT I KNOW

PREFACE

This story is exactly what it purports to be, a romance, as the reader who cares to follow the Highway with the Hero and Heroine whose adventures thereon are hereafter set forth will see. It makes no pretence at being an historical novel, and yet, perhaps, it is only fair to the Manes of Lady Grizel Ogilby to point out that she herself once played a dashing rôle, somewhat like that attributed to Lady Katharine Clanranald, in a similar emergency in Scottish history and at a similar crisis in the family fortunes. I am just a little tired, for the nonce, of the problem story, and I have turned to this with a keen relish in which I humbly trust the reader will share. Variety is the life of literature: if I confined myself to one kind of books, or to one kind of sermons, I should be a dead author and a dead preacher as well.

The relaxations of life are not to be found in idleness, but in doing things that are different. It is a far cry from The Island of Regeneration to The Better Man and from The Better Man to Hearts and the Highway. And it will be a farther cry, perhaps, to the next story! Here's hoping that each may find a place and welcome in some gracious reader's heart.

CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY.

ST. GEORGE'S RECTORY, KANSAS CITY, Mo., New Year's Day, 1911.

CONTENTS

BOOK I

THE WINNING OF A HUSBAND

As Set Forth by the Lady of the Quest, with a Necessary Interlude by the Gentleman in Person

CHAPTER I

In Which I, Lady Katharine Clanranald, Come to a Desperate but Manly Resolution

CHAPTER II

Wherein Worthy Master Dunner Finds My Lord Carthew's Clothes Vastly Becoming to Me as I Ride Away

CHAPTER III

How I Ate, Drank, and Gamed with Sir Hugh Richmond, Under Whom I Would Fain See Service

CHAPTER IV

Wherein I Played the Highwayman and What Befell Me on the Road

CHAPTER V

In Which I Ride Away with My Captor, Who Threatens Me with Death for High Treason

CHAPTER VI

In Which, by the Favour of the King's Messenger, I am Permitted to Ride South Again on My Quest

CHAPTER VII

Wherein, at the Request of Lady Katharine Clanranald, Whom He Loved, Sir Hugh Richmond Takes up the Tale, Relating What Happened to Him in the Tolbooth Prison

CHAPTER VIII

How I Got the News of a Noble Self-Sacrifice, How It Affected Me, and What I Resolved to Do for Sir Hugh Richmond

CHAPTER IX

My Interview with the King of England and the Good and Bad Angels That Attended Him

CHAPTER X

In Which I Bargain Successfully for That Which Is as Dear to Me as the Life of My Father

CHAPTER XI

Wherein Sir Hugh Richmond Finds Me, Not Unwilling, Thrust upon Him

BOOK II

THE KEEPING OF A WIFE

As Described by the Gentleman Who Did It, with an Incidental Digression by the Lady Herself

CHAPTER XII

In Which I, Sir Hugh Richmond, Who Tell This Tale, Find That It Is Easier to Marry Lady Katharine Clanranald than to Keep Her for My Own

CHAPTER XIII

Wherein I Set Down in Due Course the Resolution to Which I Came, Which Boded Ill to the King, as I Rode Southward

CHAPTER XIV

Wherein, by the Grace of God, Our Own Determination, and the Speed of Our Good Horses, We Reach Monkwearmouth in Time

CHAPTER XV

Shows How the Lord Chief Justice of England Kept a Love Tryst and What Befell Him at the Boar's Head Inn

CHAPTER XVI

How My Lord Stenwold Settled His Account and Paid His Debt in Full

CHAPTER XVII

In Which Lady Katharine Richmond, at the Request of Her Husband, Tells How She and Lord Stenwold Came to Stenwold House

CHAPTER XVIII

Wherein Lady Katharine Describes What Took Place in the Antechamber Where the King Made Love to Her

CHAPTER XIX

Wherein Sir Hugh Richmond Interrupts a Tête-à-Tête Between His Wife and one James Stewart

CHAPTER XX

How Sir Hugh and Lady Katharine, with Some Assistance from General Feversham, at Last and Finally Overcame the Majesty of England

BOOK I

THE WINNING OF A HUSBAND

As set forth by the Lady of the Quest, with a necessary Interlude by the Gentleman in Person

Chapter I

In which I, Lady Katharine Clanranald, come to a desperate but manly Resolution

"Time," said the councillor gravely, "is all that we lack."

"And money, sir," I added most disconsolately.

"True," was the somewhat amused answer of the grim old attorney. "The King hath very pressing need of money ever, and with the Stuart disposition there goeth always the itching palm of Cassius."

"That last need," I commented thoughtfully, "might be supplied in some measure. There are the jewels of the Countess, my lady mother, and my own as well."

"And though the estates be confiscate," returned Master Dunner, "there are certain moneys in my charge which the justiciaries wot not of, and which are available for any purpose that will serve my lord."

"Nay, sir, I would not have you jeopard your own savings," I burst out hurriedly, but he straightway checked me.

"Your ladyship," he said softly, "I am not only an attorney, but in a remote degree I am kin to your family and of your blood. My ancestors followed Clanranald in peace and war. They served him with the sword, I with the pen, 'tis true, but natheless..."

"Master Dunner," said I, vastly touched, "you say true, and for the Earl I accept your proffer. Think ye that together we could raise two thousand pounds?"

"With your ladyship's jewels and those of the family which you took precaution to remove before the troopers seized the house, I think with my own poor savings added thereto we might even compass three thousand."

"Scots?" quoth I.

"English, madam."

"'Tis a goodly sum."

"Ay, indeed, but as I had the honour to tell you a moment since, 'tis not money we lack but time."

"Will you explain that to me again, Master Attorney?"

Indeed, I had become quite bewildered by the sudden changes of fortune which had plunged us into this dire misery.

"'Tis true undoubtedly, madam, that your honoured father did conspire with the Duke of Monmouth or his partisans in Scotland to raise the country in revolt against King Jamie of England, his brother, but there were extenuating circumstances. He was in a manner forced into the enterprise, although his influence and voice were ever raised in restraint. I have prepared a brief here, well attested. Indeed, those of the meaner sort lately executed for treason have cheerfully borne testimony to the Earl's unwillingness, and I have here their depositions. Then, too, there is a recommendation from the Lord Chief Justice, together with a petition signed by various gentlemen praying the King to exercise his royal clemency. If we could get that into his hands backed by that sum of money of which we have spoke, I think there would be no doubt that His Majesty would be pleased to commute the sentence."

He smiled confidently as he concluded.

"Why not send it to him at once then?" I asked rather sharply. "Why delay and waste hours in idle talking?"

"But, your ladyship, I have told you there is no time."

"What mean you?"

"The proceedings in the trial, which was most unduly hurried despite our earnest protests and in which no proper opportunity was given to establish these facts, have been sent to His Majesty in London. On account of the Earl's rank and importance, a royal warrant is required for his execution."

I shuddered at that word, but Master Dunner ran on inflexibly, knowing that I was privy to the worst already.

"The findings of the court were approved with most unseemly haste, and a royal warrant issued which is even now on the way. I have had private advices from a correspondent in London, who hath interest at the Court, that the warrant is being despatched to Edinburgh in the personal custody of Sir Hugh Richmond, an officer of the Royal Army. My messenger coming post-haste hath outstripped him, in part because he hath been obliged to deliver other similar warrants, which hath made his progress slower than one who comes direct."

"But have you not appealed to the Lord Chief Justice to delay the execution of the warrant until we can communicate with the King?" I asked earnestly.

"Madam, I have, but he is inflexible. He says he hath no power, though with the best will in the world, to stay the execution of a royal warrant."

"But if I should appeal to him?"

"You might as well appeal to the Tolbooth itself."

"Then the case is hopeless?"

"Ay," said the old man gently enough, but with such decision as carried conviction to my sinking heart, "unless by some means the delivery of the warrant can be estopped until we have access to the King."

"Could the messenger be bribed?"

"I fear not. Sir Hugh Richmond is, I am told, a man of independent fortune, a proved soldier, a loyal gentleman."

"I meant not with money, old friend," I replied, smiling at him.

"By Heaven!" answered the advocate, looking me full in the eyes, "if any power could do it, it would be your fair face, my lady, and, given you time and opportunity, I believe you might win any man to your thinking, but here again 'tis impossible."

"But if some one took the warrant from him by force?"

"That would answer," said the advocate, "but who is to do it, madam? It would be high treason in the first place and certain death in the second, and in the present unsettled state of affairs, or rather settled in His Majesty's interest, you could not get a man to lift a hand."

He shook his head gloomily as he finished.

"Could I not?" I replied reflectively. "There are..."

And then I stopped.

I had plenty of friends to be sure, and I did not doubt that among them I might find some of sufficient devotion and daring to risk life and fortune to do me this service. Whoever did it, however, would want a reward commensurate with the risk incurred, and with the service rendered. I knew full well what that reward would be. It would be myself, and there was not one among the gay gallants who had paid me court—and who, I doubt not, even now would be at my side, or at my feet, were I not in close hiding, thinking to serve my father better at large than if I were with him in the prison—that I would marry. I was as heart-whole and fancy-free as any maid in Scotland, and would fain remain so; though, if it came to a pinch, I would of course sacrifice my own freedom to any gallant gentleman who would save my good old father's life.

He and I were the last of the Clanranalds. Brother I had had, but he had died two years before, and my mother had long since preceded him. My father and I had been much together at Clanranald House, and I loved him with a devotion, I think, which passed that entertained by most Scottish maids for their fathers. I did not desire to marry anybody. I wanted my father's life saved. I wished to be back again at Clanranald House, the old, sweet, free life flowing on as it did before this bastard Monmouth and his futile ambitions came athwart our path. But that was not to be. Surely some other way might be found to stop the messenger. I strained my wits hard to devise one.

"Madam," said Master Dunner, who had been scrutinising me searchingly as these thoughts ran through my troubled brain, "you know how gladly I would assume the adventure myself, were it not..."

He looked down very sadly at his poor clubbed foot and shrunken limb, which had made him an attorney instead of a soldier. He was older than my father, too, and could with difficulty sit a horse.

"I know your will, sir," I interrupted quickly, catching him by the hand, "but that is not to be thought of."

"What, then?"

That he, with all his shrewdness and resource, should ask the question of me, a woman, proved as nothing else the hopelessness of the situation. Yet the question was a sharp spur to my imagination. It seemed to force choice among the men who had paid court to me at Clanranald House in happier days.

"Let me think," replied I, as I passed in rapid review the various young gentlemen of my acquaintance. There was not one of them who was acceptable as a husband in the least degree to me. There must be some other way, and yet... I came to a sudden decision.

"I will do it myself," I said boldly with a flash of inspiration.

"You, my lady?" exclaimed the attorney in great amaze.

"Why not I? I can use a small sword with most men of my acquaintance. My father hath given me much of his own skill, and I have never hesitated to cross blades in friendly bout with any of our guests at home. As for other weapons, I have often ranged moor and glen with the Earl; I have brought down a stag and know the use of small arms."

"But you are a woman."

"Can I not for the nonce be a man?" I asked. "What's to hinder, indeed?"

"And do you imagine that, even if you were to attempt to carry out this mad scheme, you could get the better of a tried soldier, an experienced man of the world as rumour accrediteth Sir Hugh Richmond to be?" asked the old man with a slightly ironic touch.

"Since time and the world began, Master Dunner, weak woman, backed by her wit and finesse, hath got the better of strong man," I replied with spirit.

"But you are proposing to approach him as a man."

"I shall be not less a woman for all that," I retorted triumphantly, veering to the other side of the argument, "and being all a woman and half a man..."

"Which half, madam?"

"The outward and visible shape thereof," I answered, blushing.

The little attorney laughed grimly.

"'Fore God," he said, "forgive me, madam, but the thought of you as..."

"Master Dunner," said I imperiously, "I am a tall woman as women go"—and I fervently thanked God for the first time in my heart for that fact, heretofore something of a grief to me, since your small women were the fashion then and thereafter—"and I doubt not I will make a braw man enough."

"But your face, madam ... your hair ... your voice?"

"I will cut my hair."

"Would you sacrifice...?"

"Peace, man! What is the loss of a few locks, that will grow again, beside my father's head. I will darken my face a bit—indeed, had it been summer instead of spring I should have been brown enough to pass muster—I will wear a wig, and my voice," it was a deep contralto, "will serve. You must get me a suit of clothes, boots, coat, and ... the other things; a sword, let it be a good one; pistols ... and, behold! I am transformed."

"And suppose that I fall in with this mad plan of yours, may I ask what further do you intend to assay?"

"Which way rides the messenger?"

"Madam, he comes through Berwick and the road along the shore."

"Will he go to Dalkeith?"

"I think not. Rather by way of Dunbar and Prestonpans."

"When do you expect him?"

"He should be here to-morrow."

"Good!" said I decisively. "'Tis yet early morning and there is time. Where will he lie to-night?"

"I should think perhaps at Cockenzie. There is an inn there, The Black Douglas, of much repute for travellers, and 'tis an easy journey thence to Edinburgh. He was to stop a night at Berwick, another at Dunbar."

He had the route pat enough, to be sure!

"Think you that your information is to be depended upon?"

"Madam, I believe so."

"I will meet him, then, at Cockenzie. What say you is the name of this famous hostelry?"

"The Black Douglas. But what are your plans then?"

"To act as circumstances may dictate."

"My dear lady," said the old man, coming nearer to me, "forgive my presumption. I have served your race long and well. You have no one left to advise you but me, humble though I am. I must ask to know more of your plans before I consent to aid you."

"And I cannot tell you just exactly what I hope to do."

"But in a general way?"

"In some way or other I shall take from him his despatch-bag, abstract therefrom the warrant for my father. You shall describe it to me so I may identify it easily."

"But..."

"Ask me no more!" I cried. "I am resolved upon it. If you will not help met I shall go myself without your aid."

"Misfortune may befall you."

"What of that? If I am to lose my father, I care not what becomes of me."

"But others care."

"Nay, for no others do I care."

"Madam," he said gravely, "I do think that a bit unkind."

"But for thee," I answered quickly, discerning the trend of his thought. "But because I hold you in honour and you are my last, my only friend, the one being to whom I can appeal, I beg of you question me no further, but give me your aid. The risk is for my father's life and his peril justifieth anything."

"You have won me, madam," said the old man, deeply touched I could see. "Tell me what you wish me to do."

"Procure me clothes suited to my new emprise, a horse—and see that he be a speedy and spirited one, no ambling woman's pad for me, but the best that can be got; money sufficient for any possible wayside need, say a hundred pounds; a sword, an Andrew Ferrara if you can come at one in a hurry; pistols for the holsters; a saddlebag containing toilet necessaries; a horseman's cloak."

"They shall be here in an hour," said the old man. "I have a suit of your brother's, a riding-suit, which he left at my house when last he visited Edinburgh before his death. 'Tis complete in all points and will fit you, I doubt not, to perfection."

He was a year older than I, but he had been dead two years and I had had time to catch up with him.

"There is a sword that belonged to my father as well. 'Tis a tried blade," said the old man. "I could not give it into worthier hands, and 'tis well adapted to your size, for my father was a man of slight build and did not swing the ponderous claymores of your ancestors."

"I am greatly pleased by your willingness to entrust it to me, Master Dunner. I hope I may use it as worthily as your father did or any of our house."

"Madam, you do me proud," said the old gentleman, bowing like a courtier. "As for the rest, I will make shift somehow. Would that I could go with you myself!"

"Would that you could," replied I, "but 'tis not to be thought of, and there is work for you to do as well."

"What is that?"

"The ransom money," said I. "It must be raised and put in bills of exchange upon London. The papers must be prepared."

"Ay," was the answer, "and if God grant you be successful, they must be despatched to London at once."

"If I am successful, and I must be, I shall take them myself."

"You are your father's daughter!" cried the attorney.

"If you have these things here within the hour, I can reach Cockenzie by nightfall. You should see me back to-morrow. Where shall I meet you?"

"Here," said the advocate. "The woman who keeps the house is devoted to me. No one suspects what this mean dwelling harbours, and 'tis the safest appointment I can give you."

"All's arranged then," said I, giving him my hand.

He bent low over it, and I felt that it had never been pressed by worthier lips than those of the honest advocate.

Chapter II

Wherein worthy Master Dunner finds My Lord Carthew's Clothes vastly becoming to me as I ride away