The Greatest Historical Novels & Romances of D. K. Broster. D. K. Broster

round with a tragic face. “How do you know that?”

      “Because I——but I’ll tell you the whole story in a moment. First do you tell me——”

      “Ewen,” interrupted his brother-in-law vehemently, “if you’ll only clear me I give you leave, with all my heart, to dirk me afterwards if you like.”

      Ewen could not keep back a smile. “The inducement is not overwhelming. But, Hector,” he added, as a sudden unwelcome idea smote him, and he in his turn gripped the young officer by the arm, “I hope to God that you have not deserted—have not come over without leave?”

      “No, no, Lord Ogilvie gave me leave. He does not believe the rumour, thank God! He thought it best that I should come; I had already called out a lieutenant in my company . . . unfortunately he got wind of it and stopped the meeting. He thought that if I came over I might be able to find out who really was responsible for the Doctor’s capture and thus clear myself. And it goes without saying that if there is any scheme on foot for Doctor Cameron’s release or rescue you may count on me de tout mon cœur.”

      “Alas, I fear that there is none at present,” said Ewen sadly. “Yet, as regards his capture, though I cannot give you the name of the man responsible, I can prove that it was not you. But, Hector, who can have put about this slander? Who started it?”

      Hector shook his head. “I could not find out—how does one discover a thing like that? Nor has anyone dared to tax me with it directly; ’twas more hints, sneers, looks, avoidance of me. And those of your name in the regiment were naturally among the foremost.”

      “You must,” said Ewen, considering, “have been too free with your tongue over your unlucky loss of that letter last autumn.”

      “Too free with my tongue! I never breathed a word about it to a soul over there, not even to Lord Ogilvie. I was far too much ashamed.”

      “And you did not tell anyone when you were in Scotland?”

      “Save you, no one.”

      “ ’Tis very strange. Well, tell me what chanced after our sudden parting that dark morning at Ardgour, and how you succeeded in getting over to France.”

      Hector told him.

      “Dhé!” exclaimed his brother-in-law at the end, “so ’twas young Glenshian who helped you to papers! How the devil did he contrive to do it?”

      “Faith, I don’t know overwell. He gave me a letter to someone whom I never saw, with a feigned name at that. I was grateful enough to the future Chief, though there is something about the man which I find it hard to stomach. You have never met him, I think. Now, Ewen, keep me in suspense no longer!”

      “Stay one moment,” said Ardroy slowly. “You told young Glenshian—you could not help yourself—of the loss of your necessary papers; perhaps you told him of the loss of the letter too?”

      A flush ran over Hector’s face and his jaw fell a trifle. He thumped the table. “You’re right; I did! But he, surely, could not have spread——”

      “No, no, I do not suppose that for an instant! It was only that you said you had told nobody save me.”

      “Nobody over the water nor in Scotland. I vow I had forgotten Finlay MacPhair in London. He was so anxious to know whether I had lost any compromising document. But that he could have put about such a libel is out of the question. I fear, however, that he may have mentioned my misfortune to some third person. . . . But now for your proof, Ewen, which is to clear me! And tell me, too, how soon you got back from Ardgour, and all that has befallen you of late. You look, now that I see you closer . . . have you been ill by any chance?”

      CHAPTER XVII

       FORESEEN AND UNFORESEEN

       Table of Contents

      (1)

      It had been arranged that Hector should come to Ewen’s lodging early next morning, and that they should both go to wait upon Mr. Galbraith. Ewen therefore remained in his room writing a letter to Alison, but when it was already three-quarters of an hour past the time appointed, and still the young man did not arrive, Ardroy began to get uneasy about him. When an hour and a quarter had elapsed he was walking about his room really anxious. What had the boy been doing? Should he go to the Strand in search of him? But then he might so easily miss him on the way. When another twenty minutes had ticked itself away among the sun, moon and stars of Mrs. Wilson’s great clock, he strode into his bedroom for his hat. He could wait no longer; he must go and look for the truant.

      And then he heard his landlady’s voice, explaining to someone that she thought Mr. Cameron must by now have gone out.

      “No, I have not,” said Ewen, appearing on the threshold of his bedroom. “Is that you at last, Hector? What on earth has delayed you so?”

      “I’ll tell you in a moment,” said young Grant rather hoarsely. “I have made what haste I could.” And indeed his brow was damp, and he sank down in a chair in the sitting-room as if exhausted. Ewen asked him if he were ill, for he was clearly under the sway of some emotion or other; and, when Hector shook his head, said “Then ’tis this business of the slander on you. Have you discovered something?”

      “No, no, it is not that,” said Hector. And then he got it out with a jerk. “Ewen, Doctor Cameron was this morning condemned to death, without trial.”

      A club seemed to strike Ewen’s head—like that musket butt in the wood. Yet this news was expected.

      “How did you hear it?” he asked after a moment’s silence.

      “I . . . O Ewen, I would have given anything to get to you in time, but I swear that it was only by chance that I was on the spot, and then it was too late. I tried to send a messenger. In truth it should have been you, not I, but it was not my fault!”

      A light broke on Ardroy. “You mean that you actually heard him sentenced?”

      Hector nodded, and went on in the same apologetic tone, “It was all chance and hurry. Had your lodging not been so far away——”

      “You have seen Archie this morning! Where was he brought up for sentence, then?”

      “At the Court of King’s Bench in Westminster Hall.”

      Ewen sat down at the table. “Tell me about it.—No, I do not blame you, Hector; why should I? Yet I would have given much . . .” He clenched his hand a second on the edge of the table. “Tell me everything.”

      So Hector told him. The story began with his going for an early walk along the riverside, and finding himself, when he got to Westminster, in the presence of a considerable crowd, which, as he then discovered to his surprise, was waiting in the hopes of getting a glimpse of the Jacobite as he was brought by coach from the Tower to have sentence passed upon him. “After the first astonishment my thoughts were all of you, Ewen,” said Hector earnestly, “and I was for coming at once to fetch you. But it appeared that the Court was already assembled, and that the prisoner might arrive at any moment. I tried to get a hackney-coach—I could not; I tried to send a messenger—no one would stir. Then I thought, ‘If I cannot warn Ewen, who, after all, has probably heard of this from some other source, I will at least do my best to get a sight of the Doctor, to tell him how he seems’. I had no hope of entering Westminster Hall, since the press was so great; and moreover those who went in appeared to have tickets of admission. And the crowd moved and pushed to such an extent that I began to fear I should not get the slightest glimpse of Doctor Cameron when he came; and after a while, indeed, I found myself penned with one or two others into an angle of the building where I could see nothing. However, there was in this angle a small door, and when the man nearest it, in a fit of annoyance, began to