Summer Of Love Part 26

"And now, I better turn in or else I'll be no good this morning," Owen remarked importantly.

"Owen, I need to discuss another job with you if you'll indulge me."

"Speak, sir."

"I want to exchange the black stallion with one of the horses of the Highlanders at the Golden Eagle."

Helen and Rose both p.r.i.c.ked their ears.

"Why," asked Helen, and then she frowned. "I see, you want to pay them back for selling you a stolen horse... Don't Andrew, it's too dangerous to venture again into the city, now that the police are searching for you."

"There's a small danger, but if I pull it off, the police will soon hold the real thief in prison."

"Andrew, I'm afraid. Don't do it! It's not worth the risk. Let's just disappear now."

"Lady, this plan is brilliant," interjected Owen. "At this time of the night, n.o.body's on the streets anymore. I bet that even the police patrols have given up until tomorrow morning. At least, that's what the two constables said that pa.s.sed close by us. You remember, sir?"

Andrew nodded, while Helen looked at Owen in consternation, as though she hadn't expected to be to contradicted by her trusted helper.

Rose joined in the argument: "Helen, if they've the real thieves, then master Andrew and you both get exonerated. Don't you think this is worth taking a small risk?"

Helen's gaze switched from one to the other. She seemed to get more and more uncertain.

"At least, hear out what master Andrew has to say," encouraged Rose.

"I would exchange the horses, and write two letters. The first one to the police, telling them where to find the horse, the second to Fergus Drummond, telling him that I return the horse since it was reported stolen and take his own steed instead. I'll leave this letter attached to the saddle, so that when the constables come to the stables of The Golden Eagle they'll find it before Fergus does. I think that should convict him."

"I volunteer to deliver the letter to the tolbooth," ventured Owen.

Helen's expression still betrayed her hesitation.

"What do you say, Helen?" asked Andrew. "Don't you want me to do it because he is your cousin?"

She nodded, feeling caught, blus.h.i.+ng.

"You're a strange one," exclaimed Rose. "He's the reason your husband ends up in jail, and he's an accomplice in kidnaping you, and you hesitate because he's your distant cousin!"

"He's so young. Getting transported may kill him."

"And he'll just goes on thieving and bringing grief to other people."

"Don't push her, Rose," Andrew begged. He turned to Helen: "I understand your reasons, Helen. In fact, I share them... What gave me the idea was you telling me how Robert bragged they had such a laugh that I should pay for Fergus' crime."

"Oh, Andrew," she rushed to him and put her arms around his neck, "I'm sorry. I don't know what's the matter with me. I wasn't thinking straight. There he gloated about you paying for him and I wanted to spare him? You go and do it."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Andrew. I am. But be careful."

He searched her eyes, and then kissed her forehead. Rose had already put paper and a quill on the table.

"That's a sensible girl," she said, patting Helen's shoulder. "Here, master Andrew, get writing."

He sat at the table and quickly wrote the two letters, only signing the one addressed to Fergus.

"Owen, will you help me bring the stallion to the stables of The Golden Eagle and then afterward deliver the letter to the tolbooth?"

"Yes, sir."

"How will you get it into the hands of the chief constable?"

"I'll knock at the prison door, and when the turnkey opens the wicket, I'll throw the letter inside and disappear before he has time to open the door. I'm sure he'll pa.s.s it on to the chief constable right away."

"And are you sure that there's no danger for you? I don't want to get you into trouble."

"No, sir, this'll be child's play-"

"Really," chuckled Andrew.

"-but we should put cloth around the horse's hooves to m.u.f.fle the sound. Just to be on the safe side."

"Good idea, Owen," exclaimed Rose, "I get old sacks."

Andrew rode the stallion, with Owen in front. The lad had never been on a horse and was rather apprehensive. But it was probably more a reflection of not being in control of the situation and having to rely entirely on Andrew.

When they reached the ramp of the bridge, he made Andrew stop and slid off the horse. After scanning the adjoining streets and the bridge, he darted across on foot, checked once more, and then waved to Andrew to follow. He ran ahead to the inn.

Andrew reined the horse in front of the stables and Owen quickly checked the tavern, just in case. He soon returned with an oil lamp and reported that the five were still asleep around the table. It took Andrew a few minutes to figure out which horse belonged to Fergus, but in the end was pretty certain that he had picked the right one. He attached the letter easily visible to the saddle k.n.o.b of the stallion with a piece of twine.

The two conspirators now separated. While the boy went to the tolbooth by narrow alleys, Andrew rode Fergus' horse back to the White Heron, its hooves again wrapped in sack cloth.

Helen awaited him in the yard, anxiously. When she heard the m.u.f.fled sounds of the hooves, she quickly opened the gate.

"I was so nervous that something might go wrong," she said, as she hugged him. "I don't want to be separated from you again."

Andrew kissed her. "Neither do I."

They joined Rose at the kitchen table.

"All done? Owen off to the tolbooth?" she asked, yawning unashamedly.

Andrew nodded.

"What time is it then?"

He consulted his pocket watch: "It's already half past two. Time flies fast. When are we supposed to be on the boat?"

"Around five o'clock... I guess I won't go to sleep anymore tonight. Would you young ones like to have a cup of strong coffee too?"

They said "yes" in unison, and then smiled at each other. Helen's lips brushed Andrew's cheek. "I love your smooth skin when you're clean shaven," she murmured.

He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. "I would like to eat you slowly, my love bird," he whispered huskily, nibbling her earlobe.

She moved away teasingly and replied mockingly: "Oh no, there's no time for that now."

"Now, now!" exclaimed Rose. "Is this all you've in mind at a time of crisis?" And then she added with a light chuckle: "But then you got cheated out of your wedding night, young man, didn't you?"

The two young people blushed, and hid their faces behind their mugs.

"So, I've two horses to sell, legitimate ones," said Rose with a big yawn, "now that the offending animal has been disposed of so neatly. This brings in more than you owe me for Joe's supply of liquor and the ten-pound gift to Owen."

"You keep the rest for your own trouble," said Helen.

"And what does your husband say to this?"

"I trust Helen to decide wisely."

Rose looked at them for a while, a warm glow in her eyes. Suddenly, she got up and disappeared in her private quarters. She returned a minute later with a gold medallion on a fine filigree chain.

"Helen, I want you to have this heirloom of mine. My mother gave it to me when I left for Glasgow. I can't really wear it here, ... and have no children to pa.s.s it on."

She put the medallion around Helen's neck. Andrew instantly recognized its fine Italian craftsmans.h.i.+p. Helen opened the tiny lid. Inside was an ivory carving of a Madonna.

"Look Andrew, how beautiful," and turning to Rose, she murmured: "Rose, I can't take this. Really. It's too precious. You must keep this for yourself."

She raised her hands to take it off, but Rose prevented her. "I want you to have it, Helen. To remember me. You've become very dear to me, like a daughter of my own." Her usually boisterous voice trembled, and her eyes had a watery sheen.

"Oh Rose," exclaimed Helen, hugging the chubby motherly figure. "How can I thank you?" she cried, wiping her tears. "I love you also... And I owe you so much."

"It makes me happy to see you happy," whispered Rose.

Helen turned to Andrew: "May I keep it?"

"Helen, you're your own master. But if you ask me, I would like you to wear it always so that I'm reminded of a true friend when we needed one."

Rose grabbed him spontaneously and gave his a hearty hug. "You're all right, young man. She's in good hands."

Shortly after three, Owen returned, beaming broadly. He did not wait for Rose to ask him why, but began spouting out the news. "I waited around the tolbooth. It only took a few minutes, and one of the jailers ran straight over to the chief constable's office with the letter, and raised the alarm, and soon afterward three constables went at the double down Saltmarket and into Bridgegate. I followed them at a safe distance and then sneaked around to the Golden Eagle from the back. And sure, they had found the stallion already. Two of them went into the tavern and tried to wake the Highlanders. It must have taken five minutes before they managed to rouse the old man."

"That's what he calls your father," Andrew whispered with a chuckle.

"He wouldn't be pleased to hear that," she answered smiling.

"And then?" questioned Rose.

"Then ... nothing. I left. I thought you all wanted to know!"

Rose stared at him with her mouth open. "This is so unlike you to leave when things start hotting up."

"As I said, nothing happened. Each time a constable got one of the guys awake and then tried to rouse the one next to him, the first one would simply slump back on the table. I wouldn't be surprised if they were still at it."

Helen giggled. "I would have liked to see this. But mind you, once they are awake, three constables will hardly contain them."

"Two constables," Owen corrected her, "the third was guarding the horse. But now, I want to turn in. So master Andrew, and lady, it was a pleasure to be of service to you and I wish you a good journey to America. I may want to make that journey too, one of these days."

"May I hug you, Owen," asked Helen. Her eyes got moist again. After a short hesitation, he came over to her and allowed her to hold him briefly.

"Bye now, lady, sir." He looked first at Helen, then at Andrew, bent forward slightly, and with a "Bye, Rose" he walked out of the kitchen.

"That one's a character," exclaimed Rose with a motherly chuckle after the door had closed behind him.

"I will miss him," replied Helen, drying her eyes.

19.

Shortly before five o'clock Rose reminded Andrew and Helen that it was time to go to the boat which would take them to Greenock. The young couple fetched their few belongings from Helen's little room and waited in the courtyard. A low, murky cloud cover diffused the early morning light to a dull, depressing grey. The sharp westerly went right through their clothing, chilling them to the bones. Helen s.h.i.+vered, crossing her arms tightly over her bosom. She didn't know whether it was the cold wind, or her lack of sleep, or her anxiety, or all three of them.

Andrew plucked a delicate rose from her favorite bush, stuck it into her hair, and kissed her.

"I love you. You're so beautiful," he whispered.

She answered with a smile, trying to suppress her s.h.i.+vers. It still surprised her how often and freely he told her that he loved her, that he found her pretty. She couldn't remember hearing her father ever say that to her mother, nor had Robert ever used the word love. He had said "I fancy you" a couple of times, "I want you" more often, but never "I love you".

Andrew put his arms around her, s.h.i.+elding her from the wind. She buried her head under his chin, drawing warmth and energy from him.

"Don't let me disturb you, my love birds," Rose chuckled as she came into the yard. "I go reconnoiter first, to make sure no policemen are about."

She left the yard and returned a few minutes later. "All's clear. Ready?"

"Yes," replied Helen, with a weary smile.

Andrew hoisted the saddle bags onto his left shoulder and followed the two women. Before they entered the wharf, Rose again checked if everything was clear. In fact, except for the four people busy on one boat, the wharf looked deserted, all the boats still asleep.

"There's your boat! The Clyde!" Rose pointed to the one farthest downstream, the one with the sailors on its deck. It rode high as the tide filled the river. "Captain McGeorge is her owner."

She hugged Helen again, and both women fought their tears, finding it hard to say farewell to each other forever. Finally, Rose tore herself away, gave Andrew a quick kiss on the cheek, whispering: "Look well after her," and rushed off.

Andrew and Helen walked briskly to the Clyde and climbed up a narrow plank to its deck. The captain welcomed them in a hushed voice, briefly scanned the wharf, and ushered them below deck into the small cargo hold full of crates and bales of wool. Its ceiling was so low that Andrew had to stoop.