only leaned the closer, as though something in the black secret heart of the pool was drawing her. ‘Black – and torches – and the world falling – falling –’ Her voice was becoming a wail, taking on the note that I have heard since in women keening for the dead. ‘All things falling – no air to breathe – Jean! Jean, I am coming—’
Somehow I broke through the thing that held me, and flung forward to catch and drag her back from the terrible place that she was being drawn away to. And in the same instant, out of the stillness of the evening, a sudden flurry of wind came up the glen, shattering the still darkness of the pool, and flinging the flower-curdled elder branches up and over like a breaking wave.
Darklis flung out her hands as though to fend something off, and twisted sideways, crying out to me interror, ‘Hugh!
Hugh!
’ as though I were the natural one in the world for her to call to.
‘I’m here,’ I said; and my arms were fast round her, while she clung to me, drawing her breath in great shuddering gasps. ‘All’s well now. Hold close to me, lassie, I have ye safe.’
Slowly, I felt her come back in to herself. She sat up and drew back out of my arms, gentle like. ‘Did I fall asleep? I seemed to be dreaming.’
‘Aye,’ I said, ‘and near enough went into the water.’
‘And you caught me back.’ She shook her head as though to clear it. The faery wind had died away as quickly as it had come. Already the moment was past, and she was forgetting whatever there was to forget. At least, I thought that she was forgetting. In after time I was none so sure.
‘’Tis getting late,’ I said, ‘will I take you back to the house?’
She got up and shook out her skirts, and we went back up the burnside. The night had returned to its proper self, a dog barked down-glen from the clachan, and the sky was like green crystal, with just the faint echo of light in the north from the sunset that would linger on there to join hands with the sunrise.
And I did not even know that we were walking with her hand in mine, until we reached the gate of the stable-yard, and parted clasp there without another word.
I waited in the archway to watch her safe to the side door of the house. The door stood open, and old Leezie, the housekeeper, her that was nurse to Claverhouse when he was a bairn, came bouncing through to meet her, scolding shrill as a Leith fishwife. ‘Where hae ye been, ye bad lassie, out this late –’
‘Only down by the ford,’ said Darklis.
And the old crone let out a wail, ‘No’ under the eldern tree – and on Midsummer’s Eve?’
‘Why Leezie, where’s the harm?’ Darklis returned, half laughing. ‘Ye can see the People of Peace havena carried me away.’
‘Harm? Harm is it? Dinna ye ken yon eldern tree is ca’d the Dark Lady, an’ the pool below her the Dark Lady’s Looking-glass? An’ dinna ye ken why?’
The door slammed shut behind her skirling.
9
Hard Riding!
SO WE CAME to Dudhope.
A bonnie place is Dudhope, part castle, part manor house, of warm rose-grey stone, sitting close among its gardens and its stands of oak and sycamore trees, on the slopes of Dundee Law above the old town with its narrow winding streets and crow-stepped gables and the broad bright waters of the Tay.
A good place to be starting a new life in, I thought, as we clattered through the gate arch into the wide courtyard on that first evening; a warm and welcoming place to become home to my lady and Darklis, aye, and me. But it is little enough the new master of Dudhope saw of his home through the rest of that summer, and the autumn that followed after.
The West was up in flames again, following a new leader, James Renwick, lately come from Holland. Notices appeared, fixed to the market crosses up and down the Lowlands, declaring war on the King and disowning all authority depending on him, proclaiming that every soldier or magistrate or ordinary man who lifted a hand against the
Somehow I broke through the thing that held me, and flung forward to catch and drag her back from the terrible place that she was being drawn away to. And in the same instant, out of the stillness of the evening, a sudden flurry of wind came up the glen, shattering the still darkness of the pool, and flinging the flower-curdled elder branches up and over like a breaking wave.
Darklis flung out her hands as though to fend something off, and twisted sideways, crying out to me interror, ‘Hugh!
Hugh!
’ as though I were the natural one in the world for her to call to.
‘I’m here,’ I said; and my arms were fast round her, while she clung to me, drawing her breath in great shuddering gasps. ‘All’s well now. Hold close to me, lassie, I have ye safe.’
Slowly, I felt her come back in to herself. She sat up and drew back out of my arms, gentle like. ‘Did I fall asleep? I seemed to be dreaming.’
‘Aye,’ I said, ‘and near enough went into the water.’
‘And you caught me back.’ She shook her head as though to clear it. The faery wind had died away as quickly as it had come. Already the moment was past, and she was forgetting whatever there was to forget. At least, I thought that she was forgetting. In after time I was none so sure.
‘’Tis getting late,’ I said, ‘will I take you back to the house?’
She got up and shook out her skirts, and we went back up the burnside. The night had returned to its proper self, a dog barked down-glen from the clachan, and the sky was like green crystal, with just the faint echo of light in the north from the sunset that would linger on there to join hands with the sunrise.
And I did not even know that we were walking with her hand in mine, until we reached the gate of the stable-yard, and parted clasp there without another word.
I waited in the archway to watch her safe to the side door of the house. The door stood open, and old Leezie, the housekeeper, her that was nurse to Claverhouse when he was a bairn, came bouncing through to meet her, scolding shrill as a Leith fishwife. ‘Where hae ye been, ye bad lassie, out this late –’
‘Only down by the ford,’ said Darklis.
And the old crone let out a wail, ‘No’ under the eldern tree – and on Midsummer’s Eve?’
‘Why Leezie, where’s the harm?’ Darklis returned, half laughing. ‘Ye can see the People of Peace havena carried me away.’
‘Harm? Harm is it? Dinna ye ken yon eldern tree is ca’d the Dark Lady, an’ the pool below her the Dark Lady’s Looking-glass? An’ dinna ye ken why?’
The door slammed shut behind her skirling.
9
Hard Riding!
SO WE CAME to Dudhope.
A bonnie place is Dudhope, part castle, part manor house, of warm rose-grey stone, sitting close among its gardens and its stands of oak and sycamore trees, on the slopes of Dundee Law above the old town with its narrow winding streets and crow-stepped gables and the broad bright waters of the Tay.
A good place to be starting a new life in, I thought, as we clattered through the gate arch into the wide courtyard on that first evening; a warm and welcoming place to become home to my lady and Darklis, aye, and me. But it is little enough the new master of Dudhope saw of his home through the rest of that summer, and the autumn that followed after.
The West was up in flames again, following a new leader, James Renwick, lately come from Holland. Notices appeared, fixed to the market crosses up and down the Lowlands, declaring war on the King and disowning all authority depending on him, proclaiming that every soldier or magistrate or ordinary man who lifted a hand against the
Similar Books
