The Atlantic Book of Modern Plays Part 24

(MARY STEWART _opens door and_ CAMPBELL OF KILMHOR _follows_ CAPTAIN SANDEMAN _into the house. Behind_ KILMHOR _comes a man carrying a leather wallet_, JAMES MACKENZIE, _his clerk. The rear is brought up by soldiers carrying arms._)

SANDEMAN. Ha, the bird has flown.

CAMPBELL (_who has struck dirk with his foot and picked it up_).

But the nest is warm; look at this.

SANDEMAN. It seems as if we had disturbed him at supper. Search the house, men.

MARY STEWART. I'm just a lonely old woman. You have been misguided. I was getting through my supper.

CAMPBELL (_holding up dirk_). And this was your toothpick, eh? Na!

Na! We ken whaur we are, and wha we want, and by Cruachan, I think we've got him.

(_Sounds are heard from barn, and soldiers return with MORAG. She has stayed in hiding from fear, and she still holds the cheese in her hands._)

SANDEMAN. What have we here?

CAMPBELL. A la.s.s!

MARY STEWART. It's just my dead brother's daughter. She was getting me the cheese, as you can see.

CAMPBELL. On, men, again: the other turtle doo will no' be far away. (_Banteringly to the old woman_) Tut, tut, Mistress Stewart, and do ye have her wait upon ye while your leddys.h.i.+p dines alane!

A grand way to treat your dead brother's daughter; fie, fie, upon ye!

(_Soldiers reappear with_ STEWART, _whose arms are pinioned._)

CAMPBELL. Did I no' tell ye! And this, Mrs. Stewart, will be your dead sister's son, I'm thinking; or aiblins your leddys.h.i.+p's butler! Weel, woman, I'll tell ye this: Pharaoh spared ae butler, but Erchie Campbell will no' spare anither. Na! na! Pharaoh's case is no' to be taken as forming ony preceedent. And so if he doesna answer certain questions we have to speir at him, before morning he'll hang as high as Haman.

(STEWART _is placed before the table at which_ CAMPBELL _has seated himself. Two soldiers guard_ STEWART. _Another is behind_ CAMPBELL'S _chair and another is by the door. The clerk_, MACKENZIE, _is seated at up corner of table._ SANDEMAN _stands by the fire._)

CAMPBELL (_to STEWART_). Weel, sir, it is within the cognizance of the law that you have knowledge and information of the place of harbor and concealment used by certain persons who are in a state of proscription. Furthermore, it is known that four days ago certain other proscribed persons did join with these, and that they are banded together in an endeavor to secure the escape from these dominions of His Majesty, King George, of certain persons who by their crimes and treasons lie open to the capital charge.

What say ye?

(STEWART _makes no reply._)

CAMPBELL. Ye admit this then?

(STEWART _as before._)

CAMPBELL. Come, come, my lad. Ye stand in great jeopardy. Great affairs of state lie behind this which are beyond your simple understanding. Speak up and it will be the better for ye.

(STEWART _silent as before._)

CAMPBELL. Look you. I'll be frank with you. No harm will befall you this night--and I wish all in this house to note my words--no harm will befall you this night if you supply the information required.

(STEWART _as before._)

CAMPBELL (_with sudden pa.s.sion_). Sandeman, put your sword to the carca.s.s o' this muckle a.s.s and see will it louse his tongue.

STEWART. It may be as well then, Mr. Campbell, that I should say a word to save your breath. It is this: Till you talk Rannoch Loch to the top of Schiehallion, ye'll no' talk me into a yea or nay.

CAMPBELL (_quietly_). Say ye so? Noo, I widna be so very sure if I were you. I've had a lairge experience o' life, and speaking out of it I would say that only fools and the dead never change their minds.

STEWART (_quietly too_). Then you'll be adding to your experience to-night, Mr. Campbell, and you'll have something to put on to the other side of it.

CAMPBELL (_tapping his snuff-box_). Very possibly, young sir, but what I would present for your consideration is this: While ye may be prepared to keep your mouth shut under the condition of a fool, are ye equally prepared to do so in the condition of a dead man?

(CAMPBELL _waits expectantly._ STEWART _silent as before._)

CAMPBELL. Tut, tut, now, if it's afraid ye are, my lad, with my hand on my heart and on my word as a gentleman--

STEWART. Afraid!

(_He spits in contempt towards_ CAMPBELL.)

CAMPBELL (_enraged_). Ye d.a.m.ned stubborn Hieland stot. (_To_ SANDEMAN) Have him taken out. We'll get it another way.

(CAMPBELL _rises._ STEWART _is moved into barn by soldiers._)

CAMPBELL (_walking_). Some puling eediots, Sandeman, would applaud this contumacy and call it constancy. Constancy! Now, I've had a lairge experience o' life, and I never saw yet a sensible man insensible to the touch of yellow metal. If there may be such a man, it is demonstrable that he is no sensible man. Fideelity!

quotha, it's sheer obstinacy. They just see that ye want something oot o' them, and they're so d.a.m.ned selfish and thrawn they winna pairt. And with the natural inabeelity o' their brains to hold mair than one idea at a time they canna see that in return you could put something into their palms far more profitable. (_Sits again at table._) Aweel, bring Mistress Stewart up.

(_Old woman is placed before him where son had been._)

CAMPBELL (_more ingratiatingly_). Weel noo, Mistress Stewart, good woman, this is a sair predeecament for ye to be in. I would jist counsel ye to be candid. Doubtless yer mind is a' in a swirl. Ye kenna what way to turn. Maybe ye are like the Psalmist and say: "I lookit this way and that, and there was no man to peety me, or to have compa.s.sion upon my fatherless children." But, see now, ye would be wrong; and, if ye tell me a' ye ken, I'll stand freends wi' ye. Put your trust in Erchie Campbell.

MARY STEWART. I trust no Campbell.

CAMPBELL. Weel, weel noo, I'm no' jist that set up wi' them myself. There's but ae Campbell that I care muckle aboot, after a'. But, good wife, it's no' the Campbells we're trying the noo; so as time presses we'll jist "_birze yont_," as they say themselves. Noo then, speak up.

(MARY STEWART _is silent._)

CAMPBELL (_beginning grimly and pa.s.sing through astonishment, expostulation, and a feigned contempt for mother and pity for son, to a pretence of sadness which, except at the end, makes his words come haltingly_). Ah! ye also. I suppose ye understand, woman, how it will go wi' your son? (_To his clerk_) Here's a fine mother for ye, James! Would you believe it? She kens what would save her son--the very babe she nursed at her breast; but will she save him? Na! na! Sir, he may look after himself! A mother, a mother! Ha! ha!

(CAMPBELL _laughs._ MACKENZIE _t.i.tters foolishly._ CAMPBELL _pauses to watch effect of his words._)

Aye, you would think, James, that she would remember the time when he was but little and afraid of all the terrors that walk in darkness, and how he looked up to her as to a tower of safety, and would run to her with outstretched hands, hiding his face from his fear, in her gown. The darkness! It is the dark night and a long journey before him now.

(_He pauses again._)

You would think, James, that she would mind how she happit him from the cold of winter and sheltered him from the summer heats, and, when he began to find his footing, how she had an eye on a'

the beasts of the field and on the water and the fire that were become her enemies--And to what purpose all this care?--tell me that, my man, to what good, if she is to leave him at the last to dangle from a tree at the end of a hempen rope--to see his flesh given to be meat for the fowls of the air--her son, her little son!

MARY STEWAET. My son is guilty of no crime!

CAMPBELL. Is he no'! Weel, mistress, as ye'll no' take my word for it, maybe ye'll list to Mr. Mackenzie here. What say ye, James?

MACKENZIE. He is guilty of aiding and abetting in the concealment of proscribed persons; likewise with being found in the possession of arms, contrary to statute, both very heinous crimes.