Chapter XVIII. I Talk with Alan in the Wood of Lettermore

by Robert Louis Stevenson

　　Alan was the first to come round. He rose, went to the border ofthe wood, peered out a little, and then returned and sat down."Well," said he, "yon was a hot burst, David."I said nothing, nor so much as lifted my face. I had seen murderdone, and a great, ruddy, jovial gentleman struck out of life ina moment; the pity of that sight was still sore within me, andyet that was but a part of my concern. Here was murder done uponthe man Alan hated; here was Alan skulking in the trees andrunning from the troops; and whether his was the hand that firedor only the head that ordered, signified but little. By my wayof it, my only friend in that wild country was blood-guilty inthe first degree; I held him in horror; I could not look upon hisface; I would have rather lain alone in the rain on my cold isle,than in that warm wood beside a murderer."Are ye still wearied?" he asked again."No," said I, still with my face in the bracken; "no, I am notwearied now, and I can speak. You and me must twine,"[19] I said."I liked you very well, Alan, but your ways are not mine, andthey're not God's: and the short and the long of it is just thatwe must twine."[19] Part."I will hardly twine from ye, David, without some kind of reasonfor the same," said Alan, mighty gravely. "If ye ken anythingagainst my reputation, it's the least thing that ye should do,for old acquaintance' sake, to let me hear the name of it; and ifye have only taken a distaste to my society, it will be properfor me to judge if I'm insulted.""Alan," said I, "what is the sense of this? Ye ken very well yonCampbell-man lies in his blood upon the road."He was silent for a little; then says he, "Did ever ye hear tellof the story of the Man and the Good People?" -- by which hemeant the fairies."No," said I, "nor do I want to hear it.""With your permission, Mr. Balfour, I will tell it you,whatever," says Alan. "The man, ye should ken, was cast upon arock in the sea, where it appears the Good People were in use tocome and rest as they went through to Ireland. The name of thisrock is called the Skerryvore, and it's not far from where wesuffered ship-wreck. Well, it seems the man cried so sore, if hecould just see his little bairn before he died! that at last theking of the Good People took peety upon him, and sent one flyingthat brought back the bairn in a poke[20] and laid it down besidethe man where he lay sleeping. So when the man woke, there was apoke beside him and something into the inside of it that moved.Well, it seems he was one of these gentry that think aye theworst of things; and for greater security, he stuck his dirkthroughout that poke before he opened it, and there was his bairndead. I am thinking to myself, Mr. Balfour, that you and the manare very much alike."[20] Bag."Do you mean you had no hand in it?" cried I, sitting up."I will tell you first of all, Mr. Balfour of Shaws, as onefriend to another," said Alan, "that if I were going to kill agentleman, it would not be in my own country, to bring trouble onmy clan; and I would not go wanting sword and gun, and with along fishing-rod upon my back.""Well," said I, "that's true!""And now," continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying hishand upon it in a certain manner, "I swear upon the Holy Iron Ihad neither art nor part, act nor thought in it.""I thank God for that!" cried I, and offered him my hand.He did not appear to see it."And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell!" said he."They are not so scarce, that I ken!""At least," said I, "you cannot justly blame me, for you knowvery well what you told me in the brig. But the temptation andthe act are different, I thank God again for that. We may all betempted; but to take a life in cold blood, Alan!" And I couldsay no more for the moment. "And do you know who did it?" Iadded. "Do you know that man in the black coat?""I have nae clear mind about his coat," said Alan cunningly, "butit sticks in my head that it was blue.""Blue or black, did ye know him?" said I."I couldnae just conscientiously swear to him," says Alan. "Hegaed very close by me, to be sure, but it's a strange thing thatI should just have been tying my brogues.""Can you swear that you don't know him, Alan?" I cried, halfangered, half in a mind to laugh at his evasions."Not yet," says he; "but I've a grand memory for forgetting,David.""And yet there was one thing I saw clearly," said I; "and thatwas, that you exposed yourself and me to draw the soldiers.""It's very likely," said Alan; "and so would any gentleman. Youand me were innocent of that transaction.""The better reason, since we were falsely suspected, that weshould get clear," I cried. "The innocent should surely comebefore the guilty.""Why, David," said he, "the innocent have aye a chance to getassoiled in court; but for the lad that shot the bullet, I thinkthe best place for him will be the heather. Them that havenaedipped their hands in any little difficulty, should be verymindful of the case of them that have. And that is the goodChristianity. For if it was the other way round about, and thelad whom I couldnae just clearly see had been in our shoes, andwe in his (as might very well have been), I think we would be agood deal obliged to him oursel's if he would draw the soldiers."When it came to this, I gave Alan up. But he looked so innocentall the time, and was in such clear good faith in what he said,and so ready to sacrifice himself for what he deemed his duty,that my mouth was closed. Mr. Henderland's words came back tome: that we ourselves might take a lesson by these wildHighlanders. Well, here I had taken mine. Alan's morals wereall tail-first; but he was ready to give his life for them, suchas they were."Alan," said I, "I'll not say it's the good Christianity as Iunderstand it, but it's good enough. And here I offer ye my handfor the second time."Whereupon he gave me both of his, saying surely I had cast aspell upon him, for he could forgive me anything. Then he grewvery grave, and said we had not much time to throw away, but mustboth flee that country: he, because he was a deserter, and thewhole of Appin would now be searched like a chamber, and everyone obliged to give a good account of himself; and I, because Iwas certainly involved in the murder."O!" says I, willing to give him a little lesson, "I have no fearof the justice of my country.""As if this was your country!" said he. "Or as if ye would betried here, in a country of Stewarts!""It's all Scotland," said I."Man, I whiles wonder at ye," said Alan. "This is a Campbellthat's been killed. Well, it'll be tried in Inverara, theCampbells' head place; with fifteen Campbells in the jury-box andthe biggest Campbell of all (and that's the Duke) sitting cockingon the bench. Justice, David? The same justice, by all theworld, as Glenure found awhile ago at the roadside."This frightened me a little, I confess, and would have frightenedme more if I had known how nearly exact were Alan's predictions;indeed it was but in one point that he exaggerated, there beingbut eleven Campbells on the jury; though as the other four wereequally in the Duke's dependence, it mattered less than mightappear. Still, I cried out that he was unjust to the Duke ofArgyle, who (for all he was a Whig) was yet a wise and honestnobleman."Hoot!" said Alan, "the man's a Whig, nae doubt; but I wouldnever deny he was a good chieftain to his clan. And what wouldthe clan think if there was a Campbell shot, and naebody hanged,and their own chief the Justice General? But I have oftenobserved," says Alan, "that you Low-country bodies have no clearidea of what's right and wrong."At this I did at last laugh out aloud, when to my surprise, Alanjoined in, and laughed as merrily as myself."Na, na," said he, "we're in the Hielands, David; and when I tellye to run, take my word and run. Nae doubt it's a hard thing toskulk and starve in the Heather, but it's harder yet to lieshackled in a red-coat prison."I asked him whither we should flee; and as he told me "to theLowlands," I was a little better inclined to go with him; for,indeed, I was growing impatient to get back and have theupper-hand of my uncle. Besides, Alan made so sure there wouldbe no question of justice in the matter, that I began to beafraid he might be right. Of all deaths, I would truly likeleast to die by the gallows; and the picture of that uncannyinstrument came into my head with extraordinary clearness (as Ihad once seen it engraved at the top of a pedlar's ballad) andtook away my appetite for courts of justice."I'll chance it, Alan," said I. "I'll go with you.""But mind you," said Alan, "it's no small thing. Ye maun liebare and hard, and brook many an empty belly. Your bed shall bethe moorcock's, and your life shall be like the hunted deer's,and ye shall sleep with your hand upon your weapons. Ay, man, yeshall taigle many a weary foot, or we get clear! I tell ye thisat the start, for it's a life that I ken well. But if ye askwhat other chance ye have, I answer: Nane. Either take to theheather with me, or else hang.""And that's a choice very easily made," said I; and we shookhands upon it."And now let's take another keek at the red-coats," says Alan,and he led me to the north-eastern fringe of the wood.Looking out between the trees, we could see a great side ofmountain, running down exceeding steep into the waters of theloch. It was a rough part, all hanging stone, and heather, andbig scrogs of birchwood; and away at the far end towardsBalachulish, little wee red soldiers were dipping up and downover hill and howe, and growing smaller every minute. There wasno cheering now, for I think they had other uses for what breathwas left them; but they still stuck to the trail, and doubtlessthought that we were close in front of them.Alan watched them, smiling to himself."Ay," said he, "they'll be gey weary before they've got to theend of that employ! And so you and me, David, can sit down andeat a bite, and breathe a bit longer, and take a dram from mybottle. Then we'll strike for Aucharn, the house of my kinsman,James of the Glens, where I must get my clothes, and my arms, andmoney to carry us along; and then, David, we'll cry, 'Forth,Fortune!' and take a cast among the heather."So we sat again and ate and drank, in a place whence we could seethe sun going down into a field of great, wild, and houselessmountains, such as I was now condemned to wander in with mycompanion. Partly as we so sat, and partly afterwards, on theway to Aucharn, each of us narrated his adventures; and I shallhere set down so much of Alan's as seems either curious orneedful.It appears he ran to the bulwarks as soon as the wave was passed;saw me, and lost me, and saw me again, as I tumbled in the roost;and at last had one glimpse of me clinging on the yard. It wasthis that put him in some hope I would maybe get to land afterall, and made him leave those clues and messages which hadbrought me (for my sins) to that unlucky country of Appin.In the meanwhile, those still on the brig had got the skifflaunched, and one or two were on board of her already, when therecame a second wave greater than the first, and heaved the brigout of her place, and would certainly have sent her to thebottom, had she not struck and caught on some projection of thereef. When she had struck first, it had been bows-on, so thatthe stern had hitherto been lowest. But now her stern was thrownin the air, and the bows plunged under the sea; and with that,the water began to pour into the fore-scuttle like the pouring ofa mill-dam.It took the colour out of Alan's face, even to tell whatfollowed. For there were still two men lying impotent in theirbunks; and these, seeing the water pour in and thinking the shiphad foundered, began to cry out aloud, and that with suchharrowing cries that all who were on deck tumbled one afteranother into the skiff and fell to their oars. They were not twohundred yards away, when there came a third great sea; and atthat the brig lifted clean over the reef; her canvas filled for amoment, and she seemed to sail in chase of them, but settling allthe while; and presently she drew down and down, as if a hand wasdrawing her; and the sea closed over the Covenant of Dysart.Never a word they spoke as they pulled ashore, being stunned withthe horror of that screaming; but they had scarce set foot uponthe beach when Hoseason woke up, as if out of a muse, and badethem lay hands upon Alan. They hung back indeed, having littletaste for the employment; but Hoseason was like a fiend, cryingthat Alan was alone, that he had a great sum about him, that hehad been the means of losing the brig and drowning all theircomrades, and that here was both revenge and wealth upon a singlecast. It was seven against one; in that part of the shore therewas no rock that Alan could set his back to; and the sailorsbegan to spread out and come behind him."And then," said Alan, "the little man with the red head -- Ihavenae mind of the name that he is called.""Riach," said I."Ay" said Alan, "Riach! Well, it was him that took up the clubsfor me, asked the men if they werenae feared of a judgment, and,says he 'Dod, I'll put my back to the Hielandman's mysel'.'That's none such an entirely bad little man, yon little man withthe red head," said Alan. "He has some spunks of decency.""Well," said I, "he was kind to me in his way.""And so he was to Alan," said he; "and by my troth, I found hisway a very good one! But ye see, David, the loss of the ship andthe cries of these poor lads sat very ill upon the man; and I'mthinking that would be the cause of it.""Well, I would think so," says I; "for he was as keen as any ofthe rest at the beginning. But how did Hoseason take it?""It sticks in my mind that he would take it very ill," says Alan."But the little man cried to me to run, and indeed I thought itwas a good observe, and ran. The last that I saw they were allin a knot upon the beach, like folk that were not agreeing verywell together.""What do you mean by that?" said I."Well, the fists were going," said Alan; "and I saw one man godown like a pair of breeks. But I thought it would be better noto wait. Ye see there's a strip of Campbells in that end ofMull, which is no good company for a gentleman like me. If ithadnae been for that I would have waited and looked for yemysel', let alone giving a hand to the little man." (It wasdroll how Alan dwelt on Mr. Riach's stature, for, to say thetruth, the one was not much smaller than the other.) "So," sayshe, continuing, "I set my best foot forward, and whenever I metin with any one I cried out there was a wreck ashore. Man, theydidnae sto p to fash with me! Ye should have seen them linkingfor the beach! And when they got there they found they had hadthe pleasure of a run, which is aye good for a Campbell. I'mthinking it was a judgment on the clan that the brig went down inthe lump and didnae break. But it was a very unlucky thing foryou, that same; for if any wreck had come ashore they would havehunted high and low, and would soon have found ye."