The Strange Story Book Part 11

After this Maclean shook off his timidity, and became known to his brother highwaymen as one of the most daring and successful 'gentlemen of the road,'--for so the people called them. Only on one occasion did he run any risk of being caught, and then he took refuge on board a vessel that was sailing for Holland, and sought out his brother at the Hague.

'It is so long since we have seen each other, I could not but come,' he said to the minister, who, suspecting nothing, was delighted to welcome him, and insisted on hearing the story of James's life since they had last parted. For a whole evening the good man listened to a moving tale, not one word of which was true, except that which related to James's marriage and the starting of the grocer's shop. The minister praised and pitied, and told it all to his friends, rich and prosperous citizens who were proud to invite the fine gentleman from London to their parties.

And if at the end of the evening some purses and watches were missing, well! they might have been robbed on their way hither, or have forgotten them at home. At any rate, n.o.body dreamed for one moment of suspecting their minister's guest.

But in spite of all the precautions which, notwithstanding his recklessness, Maclean thought well to take--in spite of his silence respecting his own affairs, and his frequent changes of lodgings so that no one might connect him with one particular neighbourhood, he at last put the rope round his own neck by an act of gross carelessness.

On the morning of June 26, 1750, James robbed Lord Eglinton in his travelling carriage, and a little later in the same day attacked the Salisbury coach, in company with Plunket. They escaped as usual, Maclean carrying with him a bag containing several suits of fine clothes, trimmed with beautiful lace, belonging to one of the pa.s.sengers named Higden. Maclean's first care was to strip off the lace, and to send a message to a dealer that he had some clothes to sell, if the man would call to see them at his address. At the time, the dealer chanced to be busy and could not come, and by the following morning, when he made his way to Maclean's rooms, an advertis.e.m.e.nt was out describing the garments so exactly that the man instantly recognised them, and gave information to the magistrate.

That night the 'gentleman highwayman' was arrested on a warrant, and carried to the prison of Newgate, and Plunket, who had been uneasy since the dealer's visit, and was on the watch, hurried to the coast in disguise and hid on board a smuggler's boat, bound for France. Maclean remained to take his trial, and after first confessing and then denying his confession, was convicted of robbery on the King's highway, and was hanged at the gallows erected at Tyburn, where the corner of Connaught Square and the Edgware Road now stand. He was at the period of his execution only twenty-six, yet he had contrived to do more mean and base deeds than most rogues of sixty.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MACLEAN AND PLUNKET STOP LORD EGLINTON'S CARRIAGE]

_THE VISION OF THE POPE_

It was the evening of October 7, 1571, when the Christian fleet, under the command of Don John of Austria, had defeated the Turks at the battle of Lepanto--one of the 'Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World.' Far away from the narrow Greek seas, where the victory had been gained, the Pope, Pius V, was in his palace of the Vatican in Rome, discussing business with his treasurer, Busotti of Bibiana. Pope Pius suffered from a painful complaint which made him very restless, and he always preferred to stand or walk about, rather than to sit. He was therefore pacing the room, putting questions or listening to statements as he did so, when suddenly he broke off in the middle of a sentence and stood still with his neck stretched out in the att.i.tude of a person whose ears are strained to catch some sound, at the same time signing to Busotti to keep silent. After a moment's pause he approached the window and threw it open, always in the same listening att.i.tude, while Busotti, half frightened, sat watching. Then in an instant a look of rapture pa.s.sed over the face of Pius, and lifting his head he raised his clasped hands to Heaven as if in thanksgiving. At this sight Busotti understood that something strange was happening which he could not see, and he remained awed and still for three minutes, as he afterwards swore. When the three minutes were ended the Pope aroused himself from his ecstasy, and with a countenance s.h.i.+ning with joy, spoke to Busotti:

'This is not the hour for business. Let us give thanks to G.o.d for our great victory over the Turks,' and he retired into his oratory.

Left at liberty the treasurer hastened to give an account of these strange events to various bishops and cardinals, who desired that it should instantly be taken down in writing, the time and place of the scene being carefully noted. They ordered further, that when sealed, the doc.u.ment should be deposited for safety in the house of a lawyer. This, it will be remembered, was on October 7, but the first news of the battle was not received in Rome till the 26th, when a messenger arrived from the Doge of Venice, Mocenigo, followed three or four days later by one from Don John himself. Then calculations were made of the difference of time between the longitude of Rome and that of the islands off the Greek coast where the battle was fought, with the result that it was proved that the vision of the Pope had occurred at the precise moment in which Don John had sprung, sword in hand, from his place in the centre of his galley to beat back the Turks who were swarming over the bulwarks.

The repelling of the attack had turned the scale in the fortunes of the day, and the power of the Turks over Christendom was broken for ever.

_GROWING-UP-LIKE-ONE-WHO-HAS-A-GRANDMOTHER_

That was the name of a little Indian boy living on the North-West coast of America, and a very odd name it is, as well as a very long one. To be sure, in his own language it could all be put into seventeen letters, while in English it takes thirty-four, as you will find if you count them, and that _does_ make a difference.

However, though we should have preferred a name that was shorter and prettier, there is something satisfactory about this one, for a little boy who has a grandmother is likely to be well fed and petted, and made to feel himself a person of importance, and that is pleasant to everybody. But it also means in general that he has lost his father and mother, which had happened to this particular little boy. They had died a long while before, and now there only remained his grandmother and his mother's brother, who was chief of the village.

One evening the chief was sitting on the beach gazing up at the sky. And while he gazed, fire came right down like a shooting star, and struck the point of a branch which grew on a tree behind his house. As it touched the branch it became solid and hung there, s.h.i.+ning like copper.

When the chief saw this he arose and walked to the house and said to the people inside:

'There is a great piece of copper hanging from that tree. Bid the young men go and knock it down and whichever hits it shall marry my daughter.'

Quite a crowd of youths gathered at the back of the chief's house early next morning, and many of the old men came likewise to watch the sport.

All day the young Indians threw stones till their hands became sore and their arms ached, but never once did the lump of copper move. At last for very weariness they had to rest, and eat some food. After that they felt better and went on throwing stones till darkness fell, but still no one had hit the copper.

As soon as the stars peeped out the poor little boy who had been looking on also ran down to the beach, as his uncle had done, and laid himself upon a rock. By and bye a man approached him and said:

'What are the village people talking about? They make a great noise!'

'A lump of copper is hanging on the tree and they were trying to knock it down, but n.o.body succeeded,' answered the boy; and as he spoke, the man stooped and picked up four pebbles.

'It is you who shall knock it down,' said he. 'First you must throw the white stone, then the black stone, then the blue stone, and last of all the red stone. But be careful not to show them to anybody.'

'I will be careful,' replied the boy.

On the following morning all the people returned to the place behind the house, and the poor little boy went with them.

'I am going to throw, too,' said he, and the young men tried to push him aside, asking scornfully how one so small could hope to succeed when they had failed. But the old men would not allow them to have their way, and said:

'Let him throw, too; the chief has given leave to everybody, and he can but fail as you have done. He shall throw first.' So the poor little boy stepped forward, and taking out the white stone swung it round his head so that it whistled four times before he let it go. It flew very near the copper, nearer than any of the young men's stones had flown, and the black and the blue almost grazed it. The young men looking on grew uncomfortable and ceased mocking, and as the poor little boy drew out the red stone, they held their breath. Swiftly it shot through the air and struck the copper with a great clang, so that it fell down to the earth. The old men nodded their heads wisely, but the young men quickly picked up the copper and carried it into the chief's house, each man crying out that it was he who had hit the copper and had gained the chief's daughter. But as they could not _all_ have hit it, the chief knew that they were a pack of liars and only bade them wait a while, and he would see. As for the poor little boy, he did not want to marry the girl or anyone else, so he did not mind what the young men said.

Nothing more was heard that day of the winner of the prize, but at night a white bear came to the back of the house, and growled loudly.

'Whoever kills that white bear shall marry my daughter,' said the chief, and not a youth slept all through the village, wondering how best to kill the white bear, and between them they made so many plans that it seemed as if the white bear could never escape. In the evening, the poor little boy went down to the beach again, and sat upon a rock looking out to sea, till at last he beheld a man approaching him, but it was not the same man whom he had seen before.

'What are the people talking about in the village?' asked the man, just as the other had done, and the poor little boy answered:

'Last night a white bear appeared behind the house. Whoever kills it shall marry the chief's daughter.'

The man nodded his head and thought for a moment; then he said:

'Ask the chief for a bow and arrow: you shall shoot it.' So the poor little boy got up and left the beach, and returned to the village.

When it grew dark, all the young men met in the house of the chief, and the poor little boy stole in after them. The chief took from a shelf a tall quiver containing a quant.i.ty of bows and arrows, and he held them to the fire in order to make them supple. Then he gave a bow and two arrows to each man, but to the poor little boy, his own nephew, he gave nothing.

'Give me a bow and arrows also,' said the poor little boy, when he saw that the chief did not notice him, and the young men broke out into scoffs and jeers as they had done before; and as before, the old men answered:

'Give a bow and arrows to the poor little boy.' And the chief listened and gave them to him.

All that night the young men sat up, listening, listening; but it was only before daybreak that they heard the white bear's growl. At the first sound they ran out, and the poor little boy ran out with them, and he ran more swiftly than they and shot his arrow. And the arrow pa.s.sed right through the neck of the bear, so that when the poor little boy pulled it out it was covered with blood.

By this time the young men had come up and found the bear dead, so they dipped their arrows in the blood, and picking up the bear, carried it into the house of the chief, the poor little boy coming behind them.

'It was I who shot the bear; we are bringing him to you,' shouted one quicker to speak than the rest; but the chief was a wise man, and only answered:

'Let every man give me his bow and arrows, that I may examine them, and see who has killed the white bear.'

Now the young men did not like that saying, but they were forced to obey.

'Give me your bow and arrows also,' he said to the poor little boy, and the poor little boy handed them to him, and the chief knew by the marks that it was he who shot the white bear. And the young men saw by his eyes that he knew it, but they all kept silence: the chief because he was ashamed that a boy had done these two things where grown men had failed; the young men, because they were ashamed that they had lied and had been found to be lying.