章节正文
Edinburgh for (as Alan said) that was a rencounter we might very well
avoid. The wind although still high, was very mild, the sun shone
strong, and Alan began to suffer in proportion. From Prestonpans he
had me aside to the field of Gladsmuir, where he exerted himself a
great deal more than needful to describe the stages of the battle.
Thence, at his old round pace, we travelled to Cockenzie. Though they
were building herring-busses there at Mrs. Cadell's, it seemed a
desert-like, back-going town, about half full of ruined houses; but the
ale-house was clean, and Alan, who was now in a glowing heat, must
indulge himself with a bottle of ale, and carry on to the new luckie
with the old story of the cold upon his stomach, only now the symptoms
were all different.
I sat listening; and it came in my mind that I had scarce ever heard
him address three serious words to any woman, but he was always
drolling and fleering and making a private mock of them, and yet
brought to that business a remarkable degree of energy and interest.
Something to this effect I remarked to him, when the good-wife (as
chanced) was called away.
"What do ye want?" says he. "A man should aye put his best foot forrit
with the womankind; he should aye give them a bit of a story to divert
them, the poor lambs! It's what ye should learn to attend to, David;
ye should get the principles, it's like a trade. Now, if this had been
a young lassie, or onyways bonnie, she would never have heard tell of
my stomach, Davie. But aince they're too old to be seeking joes, they
a' set up to be apotecaries. Why? What do I ken? They'll be just the
way God made them, I suppose. But I think a man would be a gomeral
that didnae give his attention to the same."
And here, the luckie coming back, he turned from me as if with
impatience to renew their former conversation. The lady had branched
some while before from Alan's stomach to the case of a goodbrother of
her own in Aberlady, whose last sickness and demise she was describing
at extraordinary length. Sometimes it was merely dull, sometimes both
dull and awful, for she talked with unction. The upshot was that I
fell in a deep muse, looking forth of the window on the road, and
scarce marking what I saw. Presently had any been looking they might
have seen me to start.
"We pit a fomentation to his feet," the good-wife was saying, "and a
het stane to his wame, and we gied him hyssop and water of pennyroyal,
and fine, clean balsam of sulphur for the hoast. . . "
"Sir," says I, cutting very quietly in, "there's a friend of mine gone
by the house."
"Is that e'en sae?" replies Alan, as though it were a thing of small
account. And then, "Ye were saying, mem?" says he; and the wearyful
wife went on.
Presently, however, he paid her with a half-crown piece, and she must
go forth after the change.
"Was it him with the red head?" asked Alan.
"Ye have it," said I.
"What did I tell you in the wood?" he cried. "And yet it's strange he
should be here too! Was he his lane?"
"His lee-lane for what I could see," said I.
"Did he gang by?" he asked.
"Straight by," said I, "and looked neither to the right nor left."
"And that's queerer yet," said Alan. "It sticks in my mind, Davie,
that we should be stirring. But where to? - deil hae't! This is like
old days fairly," cries he.
"There is one big differ, though," said I, "that now we have money in
our pockets."
"And another big differ, Mr. Balfour," says he, "that now we have dogs
at our tail. They're on the scent; they're in full cry, David. It's a
bad business and be damned to it." And he sat thinking hard with a
look of his that I knew well.
"I'm saying, Luckie," says he, when the goodwife returned, "have ye a
back road out of this change house?"
She told him there was and where it led to.
"Then, sir," says he to me, "I think that will be the shortest road for
us. And here's good-bye to ye, my braw woman; and I'll no forget thon
of the cinnamon water."
We went out by way of the woman's kale yard, and up a lane among
fields. Alan looked sharply to all sides, and seeing we were in a
little hollow place of the country, out of view of men, sat down.
"Now for a council of war, Davie," said he. "But first of all, a bit
lesson to ye. Suppose that I had been like you, what would yon old
wife have minded of the pair of us! Just that we had gone out by the
back gate. And what does she mind now? A fine, canty, friendly,
cracky man, that suffered with the stomach, poor body! and was real
ta'en up about the goodbrother. O man, David, try and learn to have
some kind of intelligence!"
"I'll try, Alan," said I.
"And now for him of the red head," says he; "was he gaun fast or slow?"
"Betwixt and between," said I.
"No kind of a hurry about the man?" he asked.
"Never a sign of it," said I.
"Nhm!" said Alan, "it looks queer. We saw nothing of them this morning
on the Whins; he's passed us by, he doesnae seem to be looking, and yet
here he is on our road! Dod, Davie, I begin to take a notion. I think
it's no you they're seeking, I think it's me; and I think they ken fine
where they're gaun."
"They ken?" I asked.
"I think Andie Scougal's sold me - him or his mate wha kent some part
of the affair - or else Charlie's clerk callant, which would be a pity
too," says Alan; "and if you askit me for just my inward private
conviction, I think there'll be heads cracked on Gillane sands."
"Alan," I cried, "if you're at all right there'll be folk there and to
spare. It'll be small service to crack heads."
"It would aye be a satisfaction though," says Alan. But bide a bit;
bide a bit; I'm thinking - and thanks to this bonny westland wind, I
believe I've still a chance of it. It's this way, Davie. I'm no
trysted with this man Scougal till the gloaming comes. BUT," says he,
"IF I CAN GET A BIT OF A WIND OUT OF THE WEST I'LL BE THERE LONG OR
THAT," he says, "AND LIE-TO FOR YE BEHIND THE ISLE OF FIDRA. Now if
your gentry kens the place, they ken the time forbye. Do ye see me
coming, Davie? Thanks to Johnnie Cope and other red-coat gomerals, I
should ken this country like the back of my hand; and if ye're ready
for another bit run with Alan Breck, we'll can cast back inshore, and
come to the seaside again by Dirleton. If the ship's there, we'll try
and get on board of her. If she's no there, I'll just have to get back
to my weary haystack. But either way of it, I think we will leave your
gentry whistling on their thumbs."
"I believe there's some chance in it," said I. "Have on with ye,
Alan!"
CHAPTER XIII - GILLANE SANDS
I DID not profit by Alan's pilotage as he had done by his marchings
under General Cope; for I can scarce tell what way we went. It is my
excuse that we travelled exceeding fast. Some part we ran, some
trotted, and the rest walked at a vengeance of a pace. Twice, while we
were at top speed, we ran against country-folk; but though we plumped
into the first from round a corner, Alan was as ready as a loaded
musket.
"Has ye seen my horse?" he gasped.
"Na, man, I haenae seen nae horse the day," replied the countryman.
And Alan spared the time to explain to him that we were travelling
"ride and tie"; that our charger had escaped, and it was feared he had
gone home to Linton. Not only that, but he expended some breath (of
which he had not very much left) to curse his own misfortune and my
stupidity which was said to be its cause.
"Them that cannae tell the truth," he observed to myself as we went on
again, "should be aye mindful to leave an honest, handy lee behind
them. If folk dinnae ken what ye're doing, Davie, they're terrible
taken up with it; but if they think they ken, they care nae mair for it
than what I do for pease porridge."
As we had first made inland, so our road came in the end to lie very
near due north; the old Kirk of Aberlady for a landmark on the left; on
the right, the top of the Berwick Law; and it was thus we struck the
shore again, not far from Dirleton. From north Berwick west to Gillane
Ness there runs a string of four small islets, Craiglieth, the Lamb,
Fidra, and Eyebrough, notable by their diversity of size and shape.
Fidra is the most particular, being a strange grey islet of two humps,
made the more conspicuous by a piece of ruin; and I mind that (as we
drew closer to it) by some door or window of these ruins the sea peeped
through like a man's eye. Under the lee of Fidra there is a good
anchorage in westerly winds, and there, from a far way off, we could
see the THISTLE riding.
The shore in face of these islets is altogether waste. Here is no
dwelling of man, and scarce any passage, or at most of vagabond
children running at their play. Gillane is a small place on the far
side of the Ness, the folk of Dirleton go to their business in the
inland fields, and those of North Berwick straight to the sea-fishing
from their haven; so that few parts of the coast are lonelier. But I
mind, as we crawled upon our bellies into that multiplicity of heights
and hollows, keeping a bright eye upon all sides, and our hearts
hammering at our ribs, there was such a shining of the sun and the sea,
such a stir of the wind in the bent grass, and such a bustle of down-
popping rabbits and up-flying gulls, that the desert seemed to me, like
a place alive. No doubt it was in all ways well chosen for a secret
embarcation, if the secret had been kept; and even now that it was out,
and the place watched, we were able to creep unperceived to the front
of the sandhills, where they look down immediately on the beach and
sea.
But here Alan came to a full stop.
"Davie," said he, "this is a kittle passage! As long as we lie here
we're safe; but I'm nane sae muckle nearer to my ship or the coast of
France. And as soon as we stand up and signal the brig, it's another
matter. For where will your gentry be, think ye?"
"Maybe they're no come yet," said I. "And even if they are, there's
one clear matter in our favour. They'll be all arranged to take us,
that's true. But they'll have arranged for our coming from the east
and here we are upon their west."
"Ay," says Alan, "I wish we were in some force, and this was a battle,
we would have bonnily out-manoeuvred them! But it isnae, Davit; and
the way it is, is a wee thing less inspiring to Alan Breck. I swither,
Davie."
"Time flies, Alan," said I.
"I ken that," said Alan. "I ken naething else, as the French folk say.
But this is a dreidful case of heids or tails. O! if I could but ken
where your gentry were!"
"Alan," said I, "this is no like you. It's got to be now or never."
"This is no me, quo' he,"
sang Alan, with a queer face betwixt shame and drollery.
"Neither you nor me, quo' he, neither you nor me.
Wow, na, Johnnie man! neither you nor me."
And then of a sudden he stood straight up where he was, and with a
handkerchief flying in his right hand, marched down upon the beach. I
stood up myself, but lingered behind him, scanning the sand-hills to
the east. His appearance was at first unremarked: Scougal not
expecting him so early, and MY GENTRY watching on the other side. Then
they awoke on board the THISTLE, and it seemed they had all in
readiness, for there was scarce a second's bustle on the deck before we
saw a skiff put round her stern and begin to pull lively for the coast.
Almost at the same moment of time, and perhaps half a mile away towards
Gillane Ness, the figure of a man appeared for a blink upon a sandhill,
waving with his arms; and though he was gone again in the same flash,
the gulls in that part continued a little longer to fly wild.
Alan had not seen this, looking straight to seaward at the ship and
skiff.
"It maun be as it will!" said he, when I had told him, "Weel may yon
boatie row, or my craig'll have to thole a raxing."
That part of the beach was long and flat, and excellent walking when
the tide was down; a little cressy burn flowed over it in one place to
the sea; and the sandhills ran along the head of it like the rampart of
a town. No eye of ours could spy what was passing behind there in the
avoid. The wind although still high, was very mild, the sun shone
strong, and Alan began to suffer in proportion. From Prestonpans he
had me aside to the field of Gladsmuir, where he exerted himself a
great deal more than needful to describe the stages of the battle.
Thence, at his old round pace, we travelled to Cockenzie. Though they
were building herring-busses there at Mrs. Cadell's, it seemed a
desert-like, back-going town, about half full of ruined houses; but the
ale-house was clean, and Alan, who was now in a glowing heat, must
indulge himself with a bottle of ale, and carry on to the new luckie
with the old story of the cold upon his stomach, only now the symptoms
were all different.
I sat listening; and it came in my mind that I had scarce ever heard
him address three serious words to any woman, but he was always
drolling and fleering and making a private mock of them, and yet
brought to that business a remarkable degree of energy and interest.
Something to this effect I remarked to him, when the good-wife (as
chanced) was called away.
"What do ye want?" says he. "A man should aye put his best foot forrit
with the womankind; he should aye give them a bit of a story to divert
them, the poor lambs! It's what ye should learn to attend to, David;
ye should get the principles, it's like a trade. Now, if this had been
a young lassie, or onyways bonnie, she would never have heard tell of
my stomach, Davie. But aince they're too old to be seeking joes, they
a' set up to be apotecaries. Why? What do I ken? They'll be just the
way God made them, I suppose. But I think a man would be a gomeral
that didnae give his attention to the same."
And here, the luckie coming back, he turned from me as if with
impatience to renew their former conversation. The lady had branched
some while before from Alan's stomach to the case of a goodbrother of
her own in Aberlady, whose last sickness and demise she was describing
at extraordinary length. Sometimes it was merely dull, sometimes both
dull and awful, for she talked with unction. The upshot was that I
fell in a deep muse, looking forth of the window on the road, and
scarce marking what I saw. Presently had any been looking they might
have seen me to start.
"We pit a fomentation to his feet," the good-wife was saying, "and a
het stane to his wame, and we gied him hyssop and water of pennyroyal,
and fine, clean balsam of sulphur for the hoast. . . "
"Sir," says I, cutting very quietly in, "there's a friend of mine gone
by the house."
"Is that e'en sae?" replies Alan, as though it were a thing of small
account. And then, "Ye were saying, mem?" says he; and the wearyful
wife went on.
Presently, however, he paid her with a half-crown piece, and she must
go forth after the change.
"Was it him with the red head?" asked Alan.
"Ye have it," said I.
"What did I tell you in the wood?" he cried. "And yet it's strange he
should be here too! Was he his lane?"
"His lee-lane for what I could see," said I.
"Did he gang by?" he asked.
"Straight by," said I, "and looked neither to the right nor left."
"And that's queerer yet," said Alan. "It sticks in my mind, Davie,
that we should be stirring. But where to? - deil hae't! This is like
old days fairly," cries he.
"There is one big differ, though," said I, "that now we have money in
our pockets."
"And another big differ, Mr. Balfour," says he, "that now we have dogs
at our tail. They're on the scent; they're in full cry, David. It's a
bad business and be damned to it." And he sat thinking hard with a
look of his that I knew well.
"I'm saying, Luckie," says he, when the goodwife returned, "have ye a
back road out of this change house?"
She told him there was and where it led to.
"Then, sir," says he to me, "I think that will be the shortest road for
us. And here's good-bye to ye, my braw woman; and I'll no forget thon
of the cinnamon water."
We went out by way of the woman's kale yard, and up a lane among
fields. Alan looked sharply to all sides, and seeing we were in a
little hollow place of the country, out of view of men, sat down.
"Now for a council of war, Davie," said he. "But first of all, a bit
lesson to ye. Suppose that I had been like you, what would yon old
wife have minded of the pair of us! Just that we had gone out by the
back gate. And what does she mind now? A fine, canty, friendly,
cracky man, that suffered with the stomach, poor body! and was real
ta'en up about the goodbrother. O man, David, try and learn to have
some kind of intelligence!"
"I'll try, Alan," said I.
"And now for him of the red head," says he; "was he gaun fast or slow?"
"Betwixt and between," said I.
"No kind of a hurry about the man?" he asked.
"Never a sign of it," said I.
"Nhm!" said Alan, "it looks queer. We saw nothing of them this morning
on the Whins; he's passed us by, he doesnae seem to be looking, and yet
here he is on our road! Dod, Davie, I begin to take a notion. I think
it's no you they're seeking, I think it's me; and I think they ken fine
where they're gaun."
"They ken?" I asked.
"I think Andie Scougal's sold me - him or his mate wha kent some part
of the affair - or else Charlie's clerk callant, which would be a pity
too," says Alan; "and if you askit me for just my inward private
conviction, I think there'll be heads cracked on Gillane sands."
"Alan," I cried, "if you're at all right there'll be folk there and to
spare. It'll be small service to crack heads."
"It would aye be a satisfaction though," says Alan. But bide a bit;
bide a bit; I'm thinking - and thanks to this bonny westland wind, I
believe I've still a chance of it. It's this way, Davie. I'm no
trysted with this man Scougal till the gloaming comes. BUT," says he,
"IF I CAN GET A BIT OF A WIND OUT OF THE WEST I'LL BE THERE LONG OR
THAT," he says, "AND LIE-TO FOR YE BEHIND THE ISLE OF FIDRA. Now if
your gentry kens the place, they ken the time forbye. Do ye see me
coming, Davie? Thanks to Johnnie Cope and other red-coat gomerals, I
should ken this country like the back of my hand; and if ye're ready
for another bit run with Alan Breck, we'll can cast back inshore, and
come to the seaside again by Dirleton. If the ship's there, we'll try
and get on board of her. If she's no there, I'll just have to get back
to my weary haystack. But either way of it, I think we will leave your
gentry whistling on their thumbs."
"I believe there's some chance in it," said I. "Have on with ye,
Alan!"
CHAPTER XIII - GILLANE SANDS
I DID not profit by Alan's pilotage as he had done by his marchings
under General Cope; for I can scarce tell what way we went. It is my
excuse that we travelled exceeding fast. Some part we ran, some
trotted, and the rest walked at a vengeance of a pace. Twice, while we
were at top speed, we ran against country-folk; but though we plumped
into the first from round a corner, Alan was as ready as a loaded
musket.
"Has ye seen my horse?" he gasped.
"Na, man, I haenae seen nae horse the day," replied the countryman.
And Alan spared the time to explain to him that we were travelling
"ride and tie"; that our charger had escaped, and it was feared he had
gone home to Linton. Not only that, but he expended some breath (of
which he had not very much left) to curse his own misfortune and my
stupidity which was said to be its cause.
"Them that cannae tell the truth," he observed to myself as we went on
again, "should be aye mindful to leave an honest, handy lee behind
them. If folk dinnae ken what ye're doing, Davie, they're terrible
taken up with it; but if they think they ken, they care nae mair for it
than what I do for pease porridge."
As we had first made inland, so our road came in the end to lie very
near due north; the old Kirk of Aberlady for a landmark on the left; on
the right, the top of the Berwick Law; and it was thus we struck the
shore again, not far from Dirleton. From north Berwick west to Gillane
Ness there runs a string of four small islets, Craiglieth, the Lamb,
Fidra, and Eyebrough, notable by their diversity of size and shape.
Fidra is the most particular, being a strange grey islet of two humps,
made the more conspicuous by a piece of ruin; and I mind that (as we
drew closer to it) by some door or window of these ruins the sea peeped
through like a man's eye. Under the lee of Fidra there is a good
anchorage in westerly winds, and there, from a far way off, we could
see the THISTLE riding.
The shore in face of these islets is altogether waste. Here is no
dwelling of man, and scarce any passage, or at most of vagabond
children running at their play. Gillane is a small place on the far
side of the Ness, the folk of Dirleton go to their business in the
inland fields, and those of North Berwick straight to the sea-fishing
from their haven; so that few parts of the coast are lonelier. But I
mind, as we crawled upon our bellies into that multiplicity of heights
and hollows, keeping a bright eye upon all sides, and our hearts
hammering at our ribs, there was such a shining of the sun and the sea,
such a stir of the wind in the bent grass, and such a bustle of down-
popping rabbits and up-flying gulls, that the desert seemed to me, like
a place alive. No doubt it was in all ways well chosen for a secret
embarcation, if the secret had been kept; and even now that it was out,
and the place watched, we were able to creep unperceived to the front
of the sandhills, where they look down immediately on the beach and
sea.
But here Alan came to a full stop.
"Davie," said he, "this is a kittle passage! As long as we lie here
we're safe; but I'm nane sae muckle nearer to my ship or the coast of
France. And as soon as we stand up and signal the brig, it's another
matter. For where will your gentry be, think ye?"
"Maybe they're no come yet," said I. "And even if they are, there's
one clear matter in our favour. They'll be all arranged to take us,
that's true. But they'll have arranged for our coming from the east
and here we are upon their west."
"Ay," says Alan, "I wish we were in some force, and this was a battle,
we would have bonnily out-manoeuvred them! But it isnae, Davit; and
the way it is, is a wee thing less inspiring to Alan Breck. I swither,
Davie."
"Time flies, Alan," said I.
"I ken that," said Alan. "I ken naething else, as the French folk say.
But this is a dreidful case of heids or tails. O! if I could but ken
where your gentry were!"
"Alan," said I, "this is no like you. It's got to be now or never."
"This is no me, quo' he,"
sang Alan, with a queer face betwixt shame and drollery.
"Neither you nor me, quo' he, neither you nor me.
Wow, na, Johnnie man! neither you nor me."
And then of a sudden he stood straight up where he was, and with a
handkerchief flying in his right hand, marched down upon the beach. I
stood up myself, but lingered behind him, scanning the sand-hills to
the east. His appearance was at first unremarked: Scougal not
expecting him so early, and MY GENTRY watching on the other side. Then
they awoke on board the THISTLE, and it seemed they had all in
readiness, for there was scarce a second's bustle on the deck before we
saw a skiff put round her stern and begin to pull lively for the coast.
Almost at the same moment of time, and perhaps half a mile away towards
Gillane Ness, the figure of a man appeared for a blink upon a sandhill,
waving with his arms; and though he was gone again in the same flash,
the gulls in that part continued a little longer to fly wild.
Alan had not seen this, looking straight to seaward at the ship and
skiff.
"It maun be as it will!" said he, when I had told him, "Weel may yon
boatie row, or my craig'll have to thole a raxing."
That part of the beach was long and flat, and excellent walking when
the tide was down; a little cressy burn flowed over it in one place to
the sea; and the sandhills ran along the head of it like the rampart of
a town. No eye of ours could spy what was passing behind there in the
- proportion [prə´pɔ:ʃən]
n.比率 vt.使成比例 (初中英语单词) - stomach [´stʌmək] n.胃；胃口，食欲 (初中英语单词)
- scarce [skeəs, skers] a.缺乏的；稀有的 (初中英语单词)
- remarkable [ri´mɑ:kəbl] a.值得注意的；显著的 (初中英语单词)
- energy [´enədʒi] n.活力，精力；能力 (初中英语单词)
- sickness [´siknis] n.生病；呕吐，恶心 (初中英语单词)
- extraordinary [ik´strɔ:dinəri] a.非常的；额外的 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- sulphur [´sʌlfə] n.硫，硫磺 (初中英语单词)
- differ [´difə] vi.不同；有差别 (初中英语单词)
- sharply [´ʃɑ:pli] ad.锋利地；剧烈地 (初中英语单词)
- satisfaction [,sætis´fækʃən] n.满意；满足 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- altogether [,ɔ:ltə´geðə] ad.完全；总而言之 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- lively [´laivli] a.活泼的；热烈的 (初中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- damned [dæmd] a.该死的 ad.非常，极 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- inward [´inwəd] a.向内的；心灵上的 (高中英语单词)
- vengeance [´vendʒəns] n.报复，复仇 (高中英语单词)
- misfortune [mis´fɔ:tʃən] n.不幸；灾祸 (高中英语单词)
- inland [´inlənd, in´lænd] a.&n.内地的 ad.在内地 (高中英语单词)
- notable [´nəutəbəl] a.显著的 n.名人 (高中英语单词)
- conspicuous [kən´spikjuəs] a.显著的；出众的 (高中英语单词)
- bustle [´bʌsəl] v.(使)匆忙 n.匆忙 (高中英语单词)
- edinburgh [´edinbərə] n.爱丁堡 (英语四级单词)
- stirring [´stə:riŋ] a.活跃的；热闹的 (英语四级单词)
- cinnamon [´sinəmən] n.樟属植物；黄棕色 (英语四级单词)
- exceeding [ik´si:diŋ] a.超越的，非常的 (英语四级单词)
- thistle [´θisəl] n.蓟 (英语四级单词)
- minded [´maindid] a.有...心的 (英语六级单词)
- cracked [krækt] a.有裂缝的；碎的；粗哑 (英语六级单词)
- gentry [´dʒentri] n.上流社会人士，绅士 (英语六级单词)
- charger [´tʃɑ:dʒə] n.军马；委托者；控诉者 (英语六级单词)
- landmark [´lændmɑ:k] n.界标；里程碑 (英语六级单词)
- diversity [dai´və:siti] n.差异；多样性 (英语六级单词)
- seaward [´si:wəd] a.&ad.朝海(的) (英语六级单词)
- rampart [´ræmpɑ:t] n.壁垒 vt.防护 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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