Part 29 (2/2)

”They know we're behind them. Wylstropp's forward scouts had already spotted us and decided not to interfere.~~Erskine said sharply, ”Well, what of it? They'll expect us to make for Berwick, not for Hexham..

Lord Culter spoke savagely. ”You don't know my brother. He's no fool. In all Britain, Grey couldn't have picked a better man to help him.” And whipped up his tired horse.

* * *Arriving at Newcastle that same Friday, Gideon Somerville discovered that Lord Grey had gone to Hexham and was expecting himthere. At the same time he found that the Countess of Lennox was in town with the girl Stewart in her train. Gideon, who had mentally made every plan to avoid her ladys.h.i.+p, changed his mind.

He had five minutes alone with Christian Stewart: no more, but enough to learn of the bargain made for her life.

She had trusted him; he could do no less in his turn. ”Lymond is free,” said Gideon briefly. ”He went to George Douglas to try and get access to Harvey.''She arrested a sudden movement. ”But Harvey is dead. He's been dead since Tuesday..

He understood her dismay. ”Crawford left to go to Douglas on Tuesday. I suppose there's no doubt Sir George will know of Lord Grey's demand and will tell him. It's d.a.m.nable . . . but it seems to be your life or his, you know..

”Do you think they'd dare touch me?” said Christian with contemptuous rage. ”And even if they did, that it would matter? He must be stopped,” she said. ”He must be stopped. But how?.

”But how?” was still unanswered next morning, when he found with mixed feelings that he was to have company to Hexham. Grey's meeting with Wharton was to be graced with the presence of the Earl of Lennox, and the Countess, on hearing that only twenty miles separated her from her husband, decided to join him instead of going direct to her home. Lady Christian, her women, her men-at-arms- and Gideon-went with her.

Without any very high hopes Somerville had spent part of the night making his own limited dispositions. He had posted a man north of Newcastle in case Lymond tried to trace the girl so far, and sent a small party of his own household in a belated effort to watch the other hill routes which a man crossing from Scotland to Hexham might take.

It was more of a gesture than a plan. It seemed likelier that Lymond would make straight for Berwick and there be captured, voluntarily or involuntarily. As his party rode out west through the green water meadows of the Tyne that morning Gideon, sunk in thought, rode in the rear and left Margaret Lennox and Christian to their own devices in front: a small lapse, but one that afterward he found hard to forgive himself.

On the night before Lady Lennox and her party left Newcastle, two parties of men slept in exhaustion on the Redesdale hills, closerthan they knew, until, sensing the coming dawn, the most hardened of them all raised himself on his elbow.

Acheson was furiously regretting his errand. He had bargained neither for pursuit nor for a difficult cross-country ride. Not only that, but he had been forced to put off hours, so close was the pursuit, in covering his tracks and dodging about these d.a.m.ned, dry hills, so that the message he expected to deliver on Thursday night was still in his pocket.

That brought him to something he had been considering all the previous day. Making sure that the man at his side was sleeping, he drew out a third letter-the letter he had to deliver personally to Lord Grey-and broke the seal.

Shortly afterward he roused his companion and, collecting their tired horses, the two men resumed the last lap of their journey. It was Sat.u.r.day, the twenty-third of June, and a glorious day.

In less than an hour, Mr. Acheson's odyssey of frustration had come to a surprising end. They were waylaid.

Acheson had his sword half drawn to deal with the strangers when his silent colleague stopped him, his eyes on their badge. ”Wait!” said Lymond. ”Were you looking for me?” They were Somerville men.

Acheson let them talk. The man Lymond might look inconsiderable, but he had proved a master of ingenuity in a tight corner. Besides, they had made ground that morning, and he was thirsty. He dismounted, fanning himself with a dock leaf, and was unprepared for the sheer cutting quality of the man who turned back to him.

”What a pity. It seems I'm not coming with you after all,” said Lymond.

Acheson put a hand on his sword, then took it off quickly. It was none of his affair, but he liked to keep on the right side of his employers. ”What about this exchange business?.

”Later,” said Lymond airily. ”First of all, we are making a small detour by the house of a friend..

”Then,” said Acheson sensibly, ”I'll go on alone..

”And tell the others I'm in the neighbourhood? I'm afraid we can't have that either,” said Lymond pleasantly, and closed in. The blackhaired one snarled and lunged, but a crack on the knuckles and another on the head cooled his ardour, if not his rage.

He was blindfolded, disarmed, mounted, and led at a smart trot over the remaining moors to Flaw Valleys.

Christian had noticed a moroseness about Simon Bogle very soon after her retinue set out for Hexham. He rode in silence, her long reins in his hands, and didn't even bid her good morning until she had addressed him twice. The deficiency was made up by the Countess of Lennox, who unrolled mellow conversation through the small dales like a Turkey carpet.

By the afternoon, some little sharpnesses and corners began to show through. The conversation took an unexpected turn toward Christian's fiance.

”So different in appearance, of course: poor Tom; I shan't disillusion you. After all, you are affianced to him,” said Lady Lennox. ”Although you must have a soft spot for our naughty friend to do what you did for him at Haddington..

”I like to think,” said Christian steadily, ”that I'd do as much for anyone in trouble..

Margaret laughed. ”What an extraordinary person you are! To spend days by the bedside of a dying man, just to ask his address!.

Christian was silent.

”Or was it just his address?” asked Lady Lennox, and the black eyes were sparkling. ”Sym didn't think so, last night. I like your young bodyguard, my dear; but he hasn't a strong head, has he?.

”Sym!” said Christian sharply. ”d.a.m.n it . . .

The boy's voice wailed in her ear. ”I was drunk. I didna know what I was saying!.

”He was certainly drunk,” said Margaret's cool voice.

Christian said again, ”Sym-” and checked herself. He was gabbling. ”I couldna help it. Ye ken I canna hud up under beer. . .

She made an effort. ”It doesn't matter. Lady Lennox: I depend on Sym for a great many things. There's nothing to stop you from a.s.sociating with my servants if you want to, but I'd prefer not to have the younger ones reduced to a state of c.r.a.pulence for your purposes..

Irresistible but impolitic. Margaret said blandly, ”Am I worrying you? I'm sorry. But there's nothing wrong in listening to a dying man's confession; or even in getting it recorded and signed by a priest and thereafter hiding it-where have you hidden it, I wonder? Never mind. There'll be plenty of time to look, at Hexham..

There was a little silence. Then the blind girl said slowly, ”You're quite safe, you know. Harvey confessed to a lot of things, but theyhad nothing to do with me. If he signed anything, it's probably on its way to his relatives in the south. Why on earth should I want it? If you don't believe me, I'm quite willing to be searched..

”That's very sensible of you,” said Margaret Douglas cheerfully. ”Because I don't believe you, and although I'm sure you've been most ingenious, I was proposing to search you very thoroughly in-deed..

Sym, coming out of a cloud of misery, suddenly took her up. ”Search her! Just try and touch her, ye b.i.t.c.h! Try and touch either of us!.

”You misunderstand me,” said Lady Lennox. ”I wouldn't soil my fingers. On you or your complaisant little mistress..

Sym cried out. ”What have I done? She means ye harm: what have I done? I didna mean-it was just the drink-and she asked me-.

”Never mind, Sym,” said Christian. ”I'm afraid it was a mistake. She's no friend of ours-or of our friends..

She could hear him swallow. He said in a low voice, ”The Master of Culter? She wants to hurt you and the Master of Culter?.

”Yes..

”Then she willna!” said Sym, and hurled himself at Christian's horse.

The impact of his body jarred her forward, breathless. She felt him settle behind her, the brush of the reins as he gathered them tight; the firm clasp of his arm around her waist. The horse drew himself in, quivered, and answering Sym's heels swerved, spun, and drove like an arrow through the cavalcade.

Burst asunder, rearing, scattered, speechless, they looked after the flying horse; then, streaming up from the green Tyneside meadows, scrambling and pecking and hubooing over the little hills, they followed in full cry.

Christian had no breath. Crushed in the boy's grip, thought was driven from her by the speed of the animal; her hair buffeted and flew about her face, and her skirts tugged and twisted. The clasp at her waist s.h.i.+fted, and she managed a gasp. ”Sym, you fool, go back! We'll be overtaken and it'll be-all the worse for us both..

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