Chapter XII. I Hear of the "Red Fox"

by Robert Louis Stevenson

　　Before we had done cleaning out the round-house, a breeze sprangup from a little to the east of north. This blew off the rainand brought out the sun.And here I must explain; and the reader would do well to look ata map. On the day when the fog fell and we ran down Alan's boat,we had been running through the Little Minch. At dawn after thebattle, we lay becalmed to the east of the Isle of Canna orbetween that and Isle Eriska in the chain of the Long Island.Now to get from there to the Linnhe Loch, the straight course wasthrough the narrows of the Sound of Mull. But the captain had nochart; he was afraid to trust his brig so deep among the islands;and the wind serving well, he preferred to go by west of Tireeand come up under the southern coast of the great Isle of Mull.All day the breeze held in the same point, and rather freshenedthan died down; and towards afternoon, a swell began to set infrom round the outer Hebrides. Our course, to go round about theinner isles, was to the west of south, so that at first we hadthis swell upon our beam, and were much rolled about. But afternightfall, when we had turned the end of Tiree and began to headmore to the east, the sea came right astern.Meanwhile, the early part of the day, before the swell came up,was very pleasant; sailing, as we were, in a bright sunshine andwith many mountainous islands upon different sides. Alan and Isat in the round-house with the doors open on each side (the windbeing straight astern), and smoked a pipe or two of the captain'sfine tobacco. It was at this time we heard each other's stories,which was the more important to me, as I gained some knowledge ofthat wild Highland country on which I was so soon to land. Inthose days, so close on the back of the great rebellion, it wasneedful a man should know what he was doing when he went upon theheather.It was I that showed the example, telling him all my misfortune;which he heard with great good-nature. Only, when I came tomention that good friend of mine, Mr. Campbell the minister, Alanfired up and cried out that he hated all that were of that name."Why," said I, "he is a man you should be proud to give your handto.""I know nothing I would help a Campbell to," says he, "unless itwas a leaden bullet. I would hunt all of that name likeblackcocks. If I lay dying, I would crawl upon my knees to mychamber window for a shot at one.""Why, Alan," I cried, "what ails ye at the Campbells?""Well," says he, "ye ken very well that I am an Appin Stewart,and the Campbells have long harried and wasted those of my name;ay, and got lands of us by treachery--but never with the sword,"he cried loudly, and with the word brought down his fist upon thetable. But I paid the less attention to this, for I knew it wasusually said by those who have the underhand. "There's more thanthat," he continued, "and all in the same story: lying words,lying papers, tricks fit for a peddler, and the show of what'slegal over all, to make a man the more angry.""You that are so wasteful of your buttons," said I, "I can hardlythink you would be a good judge of business.""Ah!" says he, falling again to smiling, "I got my wastefulnessfrom the same man I got the buttons from; and that was my poorfather, Duncan Stewart, grace be to him! He was the prettiest manof his kindred; and the best swordsman in the Hielands, David,and that is the same as to say, in all the world, I should ken,for it was him that taught me. He was in the Black Watch, whenfirst it was mustered; and, like other gentlemen privates, had agillie at his back to carry his firelock for him on the march.Well, the King, it appears, was wishful to see Hielandswordsmanship; and my father and three more were chosen out andsent to London town, to let him see it at the best. So they werehad into the palace and showed the whole art of the sword for twohours at a stretch, before King George and Queen Carline, and theButcher Cumberland, and many more of whom I havenae mind. Andwhen they were through, the King (for all he was a rank usurper)spoke them fair and gave each man three guineas in his hand.Now, as they were going out of the palace, they had a porter'slodge to go, by; and it came in on my father, as he was perhapsthe first private Hieland gentleman that had ever gone by thatdoor, it was right he should give the poor porter a proper notionof their quality. So he gives the King's three guineas into theman's hand, as if it was his common custom; the three others thatcame behind him did the same; and there they were on the street,never a penny the better for their pains. Some say it was one,that was the first to fee the King's porter; and some say it wasanother; but the truth of it is, that it was Duncan Stewart, as Iam willing to prove with either sword or pistol. And that wasthe father that I had, God rest him!""I think he was not the man to leave you rich," said I."And that's true," said Alan. "He left me my breeks to cover me,and little besides. And that was how I came to enlist, which wasa black spot upon my character at the best of times, and wouldstill be a sore job for me if I fell among the red-coats.""What," cried I, "were you in the English army?""That was I," said Alan. "But I deserted to the right side atPreston Pans -- and that's some comfort."I could scarcely share this view: holding desertion under armsfor an unpardonable fault in honour. But for all I was so young,I was wiser than say my thought. "Dear, dear," says I, "thepunishment is death.""Ay" said he, "if they got hands on me, it would be a shortshrift and a lang tow for Alan! But I have the King of France'scommission in my pocket, which would aye be some protection.""I misdoubt it much," said I."I have doubts mysel'," said Alan drily."And, good heaven, man," cried I, "you that are a condemnedrebel, and a deserter, and a man of the French King's -- whattempts ye back into this country? It's a braving of Providence.""Tut!" says Alan, "I have been back every year since forty-six!""And what brings ye, man?" cried I."Well, ye see, I weary for my friends and country," said he."France is a braw place, nae doubt; but I weary for the heatherand the deer. And then I have bit things that I attend to.Whiles I pick up a few lads to serve the King of France:recruits, ye see; and that's aye a little money. But the heartof the matter is the business of my chief, Ardshiel.""I thought they called your chief Appin," said I."Ay, but Ardshiel is the captain of the clan," said he, whichscarcely cleared my mind. "Ye see, David, he that was all hislife so great a man, and come of the blood and bearing the nameof kings, is now brought down to live in a French town like apoor and private person. He that had four hundred swords at hiswhistle, I have seen, with these eyes of mine, buying butter inthe market-place, and taking it home in a kale-leaf. This is notonly a pain but a disgrace to us of his family and clan. Thereare the bairns forby, the children and the hope of Appin, thatmust be learned their letters and how to hold a sword, in thatfar country. Now, the tenants of Appin have to pay a rent toKing George; but their hearts are staunch, they are true to theirchief; and what with love and a bit of pressure, and maybe athreat or two, the poor folk scrape up a second rent forArdshiel. Well, David, I'm the hand that carries it." And hestruck the belt about his body, so that the guineas rang."Do they pay both?" cried I."Ay, David, both," says he."What! two rents?" I repeated."Ay, David," said he. "I told a different tale to yon captainman; but this is the truth of it. And it's wonderful to me howlittle pressure is needed. But that's the handiwork of my goodkinsman and my father's friend, James of the Glens: JamesStewart, that is: Ardshiel's half-brother. He it is that getsthe money in, and does the management."This was the first time I heard the name of that James Stewart,who was afterwards so famous at the time of his hanging. But Itook little heed at the moment, for all my mind was occupied withthe generosity of these poor Highlanders."I call it noble," I cried. "I'm a Whig, or little better; but Icall it noble.""Ay" said he, "ye're a Whig, but ye're a gentleman; and that'swhat does it. Now, if ye were one of the cursed race ofCampbell, ye would gnash your teeth to hear tell of it. If yewere the Red Fox..." And at that name, his teeth shut together,and he ceased speaking. I have seen many a grim face, but nevera grimmer than Alan's when he had named the Red Fox."And who is the Red Fox?" I asked, daunted, but still curious."Who is he?" cried Alan. "Well, and I'll tell you that. Whenthe men of the clans were broken at Culloden, and the good causewent down, and the horses rode over the fetlocks in the bestblood of the north, Ardshiel had to flee like a poor deer uponthe mountains -- he and his lady and his bairns. A sair job wehad of it before we got him shipped; and while he still lay inthe heather, the English rogues, that couldnae come at his life,were striking at his rights. They stripped him of his powers;they stripped him of his lands; they plucked the weapons from thehands of his clansmen, that had borne arms for thirty centuries;ay, and the very clothes off their backs -- so that it's now asin to wear a tartan plaid, and a man may be cast into a gaol ifhe has but a kilt about his legs. One thing they couldnae kill.That was the love the clansmen bore their chief. These guineasare the proof of it. And now, in there steps a man, a Campbell,red-headed Colin of Glenure ----""Is that him you call the Red Fox?" said I."Will ye bring me his brush?" cries Alan, fiercely. "Ay, that'sthe man. In he steps, and gets papers from King George, to beso-called King's factor on the lands of Appin. And at first hesings small, and is hail-fellow-well-met with Sheamus -- that'sJames of the Glens, my chieftain's agent. But by-and-by, thatcame to his ears that I have just told you; how the poor commonsof Appin, the farmers and the crofters and the boumen, werewringing their very plaids to get a second rent, and send itover-seas for Ardshiel and his poor bairns. What was it yecalled it, when I told ye?""I called it noble, Alan," said I."And you little better than a common Whig!" cries Alan. "Butwhen it came to Colin Roy, the black Campbell blood in him ranwild. He sat gnashing his teeth at the wine table. What! shoulda Stewart get a bite of bread, and him not be able to prevent it?Ah! Red Fox, if ever I hold you at a gun's end, the Lord havepity upon ye!" (Alan stopped to swallow down his anger.) "Well,David, what does he do? He declares all the farms to let. And,thinks he, in his black heart, 'I'll soon get other tenantsthat'll overbid these Stewarts, and Maccolls, and Macrobs' (forthese are all names in my clan, David); 'and then,' thinks he,'Ardshiel will have to hold his bonnet on a French roadside.'""Well," said I, "what followed?"Alan laid down his pipe, which he had long since suffered to goout, and set his two hands upon his knees."Ay," said he, "ye'll never guess that! For these same Stewarts,and Maccolls, and Macrobs (that had two rents to pay, one to KingGeorge by stark force, and one to Ardshiel by natural kindness)offered him a better price than any Campbell in all broadScotland; and far he sent seeking them -- as far as to the sidesof Clyde and the cross of Edinburgh -- seeking, and fleeching,and begging them to come, where there was a Stewart to be starvedand a red-headed hound of a Campbell to be pleasured!""Well, Alan," said I, "that is a strange story, and a fine one,too. And Whig as I may be, I am glad the man was beaten.""Him beaten?" echoed Alan. "It's little ye ken of Campbells, andless of the Red Fox. Him beaten? No: nor will be, till hisblood's on the hillside! But if the day comes, David man, that Ican find time and leisure for a bit of hunting, there grows notenough heather in all Scotland to hide him from my vengeance!""Man Alan," said I, "ye are neither very wise nor very Christianto blow off so many words of anger. They will do the man ye callthe Fox no harm, and yourself no good. Tell me your tale plainlyout. What did he next?""And that's a good observe, David," said Alan. "Troth andindeed, they will do him no harm; the more's the pity! Andbarring that about Christianity (of which my opinion is quiteotherwise, or I would be nae Christian), I am much of your mind.""Opinion here or opinion there," said I, "it's a kent thing thatChristianity forbids revenge.""Ay" said he, "it's well seen it was a Campbell taught ye! Itwould be a convenient world for them and their sort, if there wasno such a thing as a lad and a gun behind a heather bush! Butthat's nothing to the point. This is what he did.""Ay" said I, "come to that.""Well, David," said he, "since he couldnae be rid of the loyalcommons by fair means, he swore he would be rid of them by foul.Ardshiel was to starve: that was the thing he aimed at. Andsince them that fed him in his exile wouldnae be bought out --right or wrong, he would drive them out. Therefore he sent forlawyers, and papers, and red-coats to stand at his back. And thekindly folk of that country must all pack and tramp, everyfather's son out of his father's house, and out of the placewhere he was bred and fed, and played when he was a callant. Andwho are to succeed them? Bare-leggit beggars! King George is towhistle for his rents; he maun dow with less; he can spread hisbutter thinner: what cares Red Colin? If he can hurt Ardshiel, hehas his wish; if he can pluck the meat from my chieftain's table,and the bit toys out of his children's hands, he will gang hamesinging to Glenure!""Let me have a word," said I. "Be sure, if they take less rents,be sure Government has a finger in the pie. It's not thisCampbell's fault, man -- it's his orders. And if ye killed thisColin to-morrow, what better would ye be? There would be anotherfactor in his shoes, as fast as spur can drive.""Ye're a good lad in a fight," said Alan; "but, man! ye have Whigblood in ye!"He spoke kindly enough, but there was so much anger under hiscontempt that I thought it was wise to change the conversation.I expressed my wonder how, with the Highlands covered withtroops, and guarded like a city in a siege, a man in hissituation could come and go without arrest."It's easier than ye would think," said Alan. "A bare hillside(ye see) is like all one road; if there's a sentry at one place,ye just go by another. And then the heather's a great help. Andeverywhere there are friends' houses and friends' byres andhaystacks. And besides, when folk talk of a country covered withtroops, it's but a kind of a byword at the best. A soldiercovers nae mair of it than his boot-soles. I have fished a waterwith a sentry on the other side of the brae, and killed a finetrout; and I have sat in a heather bush within six feet ofanother, and learned a real bonny tune from his whistling. Thiswas it," said he, and whistled me the air."And then, besides," he continued, "it's no sae bad now as it wasin forty-six. The Hielands are what they call pacified. Smallwonder, with never a gun or a sword left from Cantyre to CapeWrath, but what tenty[17] folk have hidden in their thatch! Butwhat I would like to ken, David, is just how long? Not long, yewould think, with men like Ardshiel in exile and men like the RedFox sitting birling the wine and oppressing the poor at home.But it's a kittle thing to decide what folk'll bear, and whatthey will not. Or why would Red Colin be riding his horse allover my poor country of Appin, and never a pretty lad to put abullet in him?"[17] Careful.And with this Alan fell into a muse, and for a long time satevery sad and silent.I will add the rest of what I have to say about my friend, thathe was skilled in all kinds of music, but principally pipe-music;was a well-considered poet in his own tongue; had read severalbooks both in French and English; was a dead shot, a good angler,and an excellent fencer with the small sword as well as with hisown particular weapon. For his faults, they were on his face,and I now knew them all. But the worst of them, his childishpropensity to take offence and to pick quarrels, he greatly laidaside in my case, out of regard for the battle of theround-house. But whether it was because I had done well myself,or because I had been a witness of his own much greater prowess,is more than I can tell. For though he had a great taste forcourage in other men, yet he admired it most in Alan Breck.