In Freedom's Cause by G. A. Henty (children's ebooks free online TXT) 📕
"When the court opened, Roger Brabazon, the king's justiciary, delivered an address, in which he stated that Edward, as lord paramount of Scotland, had come there to administer justice between the competitors for the crown, and concluded with the request that all present should acknowledge his claim as lord paramount. The Scottish nobles present, with the exception of those who were privy to Edward's
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“I suppose you are one of Bruce’s men?” the earl said.
“My father,” Archie replied, “as well as all who dwell in these dales, were his vassals; but seeing that, as they say, his lands have been forfeit and given to others, I know not whose man I am at present.”
“Dost know Bruce by figure?”
“Surely,” Archie said simply, “seeing that I was employed in the stables at Turnberry, and used to wash that big hound of his, who was treated as a Christian rather than a dog.”
“Oh, you used to tend the hound!” Pembroke said. “Then perhaps you could manage him now. He is here in camp, and the brute is so savage and fierce he has already well nigh killed two or three men; and I would have had him shot but that he may be useful to us. If he knows you he may be quieter with you than others.”
“Doubtless he would know me,” Archie said; “but seeing that I have the croft to look after, as my father is old and infirm, I trust that you will excuse me the service of looking after the hound.”
“Answer me not,” Pembroke said angrily. “You may think yourself lucky, seeing that you are one of Bruce’s retainers, that I do not have you hung from a tree.
“Take the fellow to the hound,” he said to one of his retainers, “and see if the brute recognizes him; if so, put him in charge of him for the future. And see you Scot, that you attempt no tricks, for if you try to escape I will hang you without shrift.”
Archie followed the earl’s retainer to where, behind his pavilion, the great dog was chained up. He leapt to his feet with a savage growl on hearing footsteps approaching. His hair bristled and he tugged at his chain.
“What a savage beast it is!” the man said; “I would sooner face a whole company of you Scots than get within reach of his jaws.
Dickon,” he went on as another soldier, on hearing the growl, issued from one of the smaller tents which stood in rear of the pavilion, “the earl has sent this Scot to relieve you of your charge of the dog; he is to have the care of him in future.”
“That is the best turn the earl has done me for a long time,” the man replied. “Never did I have a job I fancied less than the tending of that evil tempered brute.”
“He did not use to be evil tempered,” Archie said; “but was a quiet beast when I had to do with him before. I suppose the strangeness of the place and so many strange faces have driven him half wild.
Beside, he is not used to being chained up. Hector, old fellow,”
he said approaching the dog quietly, “don’t you know me?”
The great hound recognized the voice and his aspect changed at once. The bristling hair lay flat on his back; the threatening jaws closed. He gave a short deep bark of pleasure, and then began leaping and tugging at his chain to reach his acquaintance. Archie came close to him now. Hector reared on his hind legs, and placed his great paws on his shoulders, and licked his face with whines of joy.
“He knows you, sure enough,” the man said; “and maybe we shall get on better now. At any rate there may be some chance of sleep, for the brute’s howls every night since he has been brought here have kept the whole camp awake.”
“No wonder!” Archie said, “when he has been accustomed to be petted and cared for; he resents being chained up.”
“Would you unchain him?” the man asked.
“That would I,” Archie replied; “and I doubt not that he will stay with me.”
“It may be so,” the man replied; “but you had best not unchain him without leave from the earl, for were he to take it into his head to run away, I would not give a groat for your life. But I will go and acquaint the earl that the dog knows you, and ask his orders as to his being unchained.”
In two or three minutes he returned.
“The earl says that on no account is he to be let free. He has told me to have a small tent pitched here for you. The hound is to be chained to the post, and to share the tent with you. You may, if you will, walk about the camp with him, but always keeping him in a chain; but if you do so it will be at your peril, for if he gets away your life will answer for it.”
In a short time two or three soldiers brought a small tent and erected it close by where the dog was chained up. Archie unloosed the chain from the post round which it was fastened, and led Hector to the tent, the dog keeping close by his side and wagging his tail gravely, as if to show his appreciation of the change, to the satisfaction of the men to whom hitherto he had been a terror.
Some heather was brought for a bed, and a supply of food, both for the dog and his keeper, and the men then left the two friends alone. Hector was sitting up on his haunches gazing affectionately at Archie, his tail beating the ground with slow and regular strokes.
“I know what you want to ask, old fellow,” Archie said to him; “why I don’t lead you at once to your master? Don’t you be impatient, old fellow, and you shall see him ere long;” and he patted the hound’s head.
Hector, with a great sigh expressive of content and satisfaction, lay down on the ground by the side of the couch of heather on which Archie threw himself — his nose between his forepaws, clearly expressing that he considered his troubles were over, and could now afford to wait until in due time he should be taken to his master.
That night the camp slept quietly, for Hector was silent. For the next two days Archie did not go more than a few yards from his tent, for he feared that he might meet some one who would recognize him.
On the third day after his arrival at the camp Archie received orders to prepare to start with the hound, with the earl and a large party of men-at-arms, in search of Bruce. A traitor had just come in and told them where Bruce had slept the night before. Reluctantly Archie unfastened the chain from the pole, and holding the end in his hand went round with Hector to the front of the pavilion. He was resolved that if under the dog’s guidance the party came close up with Bruce, he would kill the dog and then try to escape by fleetness of foot, though of this, as there were so many mounted men in the party, he had but slight hope. Led by the peasant they proceeded to the hut, which was five miles away in the hills. On reaching it Hector at once became greatly excited. He sniffed here and there, eagerly hunted up and down the cottage, then made a circuit round it, and at last, with a loud deep bay he started off with his nose to the ground, pulling so hard at the chain that Archie had difficulty in keeping up with him. Pembroke and his knights rode a little behind, followed by their men-at-arms.
“I pray you, Sir Earl,” Archie said, “keep not too close to my traces, for the sound of the horse’s hoofs and the jingling of the equipments make him all the more impatient to get forward, and even now it taxes all my strength to hold him in.”
The earl reined back his horse and followed at a distance of some fifty yards. He had no suspicion whatever of any hidden design on Archie’s part. The fact that the hound had recognized him had appeared to him a sure proof of the truth of his tale, and Archie had put on an air of such stupid simplicity that the earl deemed him to have but imperfect possession of his wits. Moreover, in any case he could overtake him in case he attempted flight.
Archie proceeded at a trot behind the hound, who was with difficulty restrained at that pace, straining eagerly on the chain and occasionally sending out his deep bay. Archie anxiously regarded the country through which he was passing. He was waiting for an opportunity, and was determined, whenever they passed near a steep hillside unscaleable by horsemen, he would stab Hector to the heart and take to flight. Presently he saw a man, whose attire showed him to be a Highlander, approaching at a run; he passed close by Archie, and as he did so stopped suddenly, exclaiming, “Archibald Forbes!” and drawing his broadsword sprang at him. Archie, who was unarmed save by a long knife, leapt back. In the man he recognized the leader of the MacDougall’s party, who had captured him near Dunstaffnage. The conflict would have terminated in an instant had not Hector intervened. Turning round with a deep growl the great hound sprang full at the throat of the Highlander as with uplifted sword he rushed at Archie. The impetus of the spring threw the MacDougall on his back, with the fangs of the hound fixed in his throat. Archie’s first impulse was to pull the dog off, the second thought showed him that, were the man to survive he would at once denounce him. Accordingly, though he appeared to tug hard at Hector’s chain, he in reality allowed him to have his way. Pembroke and his knights instantly galloped up. As they arrived Hector loosed his hold, and with his hair bristly with rage prepared to attack those whom he regarded as fresh enemies.
“Hold in that hound,” Pembroke shouted, “or he will do more damage.
What means all this?” For a minute Archie did not answer, being engaged in pacifying Hector, who, on seeing that no harm was intended, strove to return to his first foe.
“It means,” Archie said, when Hector was at last pacified, “that that Highlander came the other day to our cottage and wanted to carry off a cow without making payment for it. I withstood him, he drew his sword, but as I had a stout cudgel in my hand I hit him on the wrist ere he could use it, and well nigh broke his arm. So he made off, cursing and swearing, and vowing that the next time he met me he would have my life.”
“And that he would have done,” Pembroke said, “had it not been for Bruce’s dog, who has turned matters the other way. He is dead assuredly. It is John of Lorne’s henchman, who was doubtless on his way with a message from his lord to me. Could not the fool have postponed his grudge till he had delivered it? I tell you, Scot, you had best keep out of the MacDougalls’ way, for assuredly they will revenge the death of their clansman upon you if they have the chance, though I can testify that the affair was none of your seeking. Now let us continue our way.”
“I doubt me, Sir Earl, whether our journey ends not here,” Archie said, “seeing that these hounds, when they taste blood, seem for a time to lose their fineness of scent; but we shall see.”
Archie’s opinion turned out correct. Do what they would they could not induce Hector again to take up his master’s trail, the hound again and again returning
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