Summer Of Love Part 30

"Yes. It's deceiving, but we'll get to a well-formed trail shortly."

Gradually, a trail began to form in the forest, getting more p.r.o.nounced as they continued. It seemed that whoever took this route tended to fan out before joining the road south so as to leave no traces. After a while the path cut north and then followed the River Gryfe on its westerly course to its source.

At noon they hid in a coppice and ate the rest of the food Rose had prepared for them. They let their horses graze, holding on to their reins to prevent them from straying out of the protection of the bushes and trees.

Both had been unusually quiet since leaving the ferry. They had restricted any talking to pa.s.sing information. Helen found it difficult to come to terms with what happened on that crossing, and Andrew didn't seem to notice, too intent on finding the secret path. She was replaying the scene on the boat, when Andrew's question brought her back to the present.

"Helen, is anything wrong? You're so quiet."

She hesitated, looking at him pensively, not knowing how to say it.

"Are you upset about what happened on the ferry? That your father is still after us?"

"Yes and no... I'm troubled, but not that father is still after us. I knew that he wouldn't give up. No. What disturbs me is how I misjudged you so completely."

"I don't understand."

"I knew you were brave, even if my father always said you were a coward because you didn't join either side in the rebellion. Still, I didn't see you as physically strong. Compared to the MacGregor men, you're slight. You've none of their bulk. It was almost as if you had awakened in me a motherly instinct to protect you. So, when Robert came after you, I thought you stood no chance. I was ready to throw myself between you two."

"I know, that's why I called out to hold on to the leads."

"Yes, it stopped me from acting immediately on my impulse, and a moment later, that big lad lay on the deck. He didn't even have a chance to lay hands on you. Everything happened so fast, and you were so ruthless. It didn't sink in right away."

Andrew said nothing. Just the trace of a smile lit up his eyes.

"And when you put the knife under his chin and cut him, and I saw him reduced to a whimpering boy, I got a bit afraid myself. I felt that you enjoyed humiliating him. I didn't know that you had a vicious streak in you."

"Yes, I got some satisfaction in showing him up. But, Helen, do you believe me that I would never turn that vicious streak, as you call it, against you?"

She moved closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulders, leaning against him. "I do, Andrew. I just have to readjust my image of you."

"Are you not a bit proud of me?"

"Oh, yes, Andrew. I am...proud, even a bit awed."

A quiet happy smile covered his face.

"You told me that you were good with a knife. Yet I had no idea what this really meant. I didn't even see you pull it, and suddenly it stuck in Robert's arm. Nor did you tell me that you're equally good with your fists. One blow and he lay on the deck."

"Two!"

"I only saw one. You were so fast!"

His smile broadened. "Speed is crucial. It gives your opponent no time to parry. But knocking a man out isn't difficult, especially a fool like Robert who only relies on his superior strength. You only have to know where to hit."

She kissed his cheek. "I'm not yet used to this new Andrew that I didn't know existed behind your innocent face."

"You still love me?"

"Oh, you silly man, I do."

"As much as before? I need to hear it."

She hesitated for a moment and then broke into a big smile. "I got you frightened for a second, didn't I? Yes, even more."

He reached out to hug her, just as their horses pulled in different directions and separated them. Both let go of the reins and rushed into each other's arms.

"Where did you learn how to fight like this?"

"At the University in Edinburgh. Initially when I got there, I was often picked upon because of my size, until my mathematics teacher showed me how to use my fists. After that, n.o.body bothered me anymore. He had also been in Italy and learned how to throw daggers. He taught me." He pulled out his dagger. "This is a gift from him."

Helen took the narrow blade and touched its sharp point cautiously. "This is useless as a knife, except for spearing... Is it only for fighting?"

"For defense. Only for defense. I've never used it otherwise."

"Robert isn't the first?"

"No, in Greece somebody wanted to rob me, and in France I got into a fight."

"Did you kill anybody?"

"No."

"I'm glad."

By early afternoon they reached the ridge above Port Glasgow. They could just make out the road into town along the sh.o.r.e, pa.s.sing in front of Newark Castle. This was familiar territory for Andrew. Shortly afterward they came across ancient ruins. Helen reined her horse and exclaimed: "Look, Andrew, a lord must have built his castle up here. What a marvelous view! Let's rest for a short while."

"Yes, let's!" he replied and dismounted. "These ruins are actually the remains of old Roman fortifications. A guard tower, I think. You know, the Romans build a wall all the way across from the Firth of Clyde to the Firth of Forth. In a few parts it still stands."

He lowered himself into the gra.s.s and Helen joined him.

"How long ago was that?"

"Sixteen, seventeen hundred years ago."

"You're so learned. I envy you. I would have liked to go to school. It's so unfair that girls are kept away from schools."

"Yes, they probably would be the more serious students... But, Helen, you know most of what I learned, you can easily study yourself from books."

"Will you help me?"

"Oh, gladly. Then we can discuss it. I would love that."

"Like we talked about books that summer?"

He smiled. "Yes, like that summer."

"Do you think that such books will be available in America?"

"I guess so, at least in the cities, like Boston. Maybe we should take a few along. We could buy them in Liverpool. Then we'll even have things to read on the long trip across the Atlantic."

"Yes, Andrew, let's do that," she exclaimed excited. "You know, what I missed most after you left were our discussions on books. I would have talks with you in my mind. Later, I started discussing them with Betty. She's very much like me in this respect. She loves reading."

Her face suddenly became sad and she wrung her hands. "Poor Betty. She'll have n.o.body to talk to, now that I'm gone." Then she looked at Andrew, a hopeful glow in her eyes. "Andrew, once we're settled in America, couldn't we pay for Betty to join us. I'm certain she would come. When she told me after the spring dance that you're going to America, she said that she would like to go there too... She'll wither away, getting married to one of my dumb cousins."

"Sure, we could do this. How old is she now?"

"Seventeen. Eighteen in three months."

"She would still need your father's consent. Do you seriously think he would let her go after what happened?"

"No, but once she's twenty-one, she could come. It wouldn't be beyond her to run away. She asked me why I didn't do it with you."

"And what reason did you give her?"

"I told her that mother said you were her son... She was very shocked. Andrew, please don't be angry. I couldn't lie to her."

He looked at her lovingly. "I'm not angry, my love. She deserved to know, even if it wasn't true... You would like to have her with you very much, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, but it's not just that. I know that she'll be unhappy with the hopeless lot of a MacGregor. Would you rather not have her with us?"

"Oh, I always liked her. I would be happy if she joined us. Mind you, a pretty young woman like her won't be single for long."

"I know, but she might still live close to us even if she gets married... If she wanted to join us, how would we do it?"

"It wouldn't be difficult. We would ask the House of Jarvis and Sons to arrange it. They could even send an escort to Killin to bring her to Glasgow. I think she would manage to travel alone from there on."

"I'll write to her and propose it."

"You do that, Helen ... already from Liverpool, and you can also tell her that I'm not her brother. I'm sure she will be glad to hear that."

"Yes, you're right. She will then not worry about what I did. But it may be safer to tell her that you found out that your mother was a MacDonald, just in case the letter falls into my father's hands."

They waited in the hills above Greenock until well after nine at night before going down into town, and entered it from the west rather than the east. Keeping to back alleys they got to The Irish Belle as the light was fading. While Helen waited in the stable with the horses, Andrew entered the kitchen from the back. A small woman in her fifties immediately took him to task for daring to invade her inner sanctum. It was hard to believe that this small person could produce such a volume of sound.

A few seconds later, a big middle-aged woman appeared from the tavern and asked: "Margaret, what the h.e.l.l's going on now?"

Before the small woman could answer, Andrew intervened: "I'm the cause of it, madam. I'm Andrew Campbell. Mistress Rose of The White Heron sent me. You are Mabel O'Brien, am I right?"

"Yes, I'm Mabel." She paused for a second. "You said Rose! Is she in trouble? She isn't ill? Tell me, young man!"

"Oh no, Rose is well and in good spirits. No, she told me to see you because she thought that you might be willing to help us-I mean, me and my wife. We're in a spot of bother. That's why I came in through the back."

"If Rose sent you, I'll do my darnedest to help. You said you and your wife. Where's she?"

"With the horses in the stable."

"Then go and fetch her. You don't leave your wife in the stable, while you come in here!"

Andrew could not suppress a smile. Mabel matched his mental image of how a friend of Rose would treat them. He fetched Helen and started telling Mabel about their difficulties. She interrupted him almost instantly with sharp questions, all addressed to Helen, rather than him. So, it was Helen who ended up telling the story of the last six days. Mabel relished the escape from the tolbooth and had a few nasty comments about Helen's father.

"Don't you now worry about anything! If I'm not mistaken, the Irish Rover has arrived in port. She's bound to leave again for Belfast pretty soon. That would be the safest bet for you to get away. She's fast. In the meantime, I'll give you a little room in my own quarters."

"That's very kind of you," answered Helen and Andrew almost like one and then smiled at each other.

"I'll do anything for a friend of Rose's, and she really took a fancy for you, or else she wouldn't have given you her precious pendant."

Spontaneously, Helen fingered it.

"Just make sure that you never show your faces in the tavern," Mabel continued. "You'll eat in the kitchen."

"That's fine with us. Do you think you could sell our horses?" asked Andrew.

"My husband can sell anything. He might even buy them himself. You mightn't get the best price, though."

"That's all right."

"I'll show you to your room. I guess you still want something to eat." She turned to the small woman. "Margaret, get food ready for these young people."

Margaret muttered her disapproval and disappeared in the larder.

While they were eating breakfast next morning, Mabel joined them for a cup of coffee and told them that the Irish Rover would sail early tomorrow. Captain Callahan had agreed to take them along. He wanted them on board at eight o'clock sharp, just before he would give the orders to haul in the catwalk. She also said that her husband had checked the horses and was willing to offer thirty pound sterling. This was more than Andrew had hoped for, so he gladly accepted.

Mabel milked Helen for information about Rose and the two were soon in an animated discussion about all sorts of things. Andrew was content to remain a silent spectator. After more than an hour, Mabel suddenly jumped up, exclaiming that she couldn't afford to neglect her duties any longer.

The young couple went back to their little room and spent the remainder of the day talking on the bed, planning, reminiscing, making love.

At a quarter to eight on the following day, they took leave, carrying their few belongings in the saddle bags and a knapsack. Mabel's youngest boy, a seven-year-old, full-cheeked, little fellow, led them through back alleys to the wharf where the Irish Rover was moored. He pointed out the s.h.i.+p, thanked Andrew for the penny, and ran back down the alley again.

As Andrew and Helen entered the wharf, they almost b.u.mped into Robin. For a second, all three were startled. Then the lad exclaimed, pleased: "h.e.l.lo, Helen. I had given up seeing you again."

"h.e.l.lo, Robin," she replied, "where's father?"

"He's looking for you on the other side of the harbor. You know how he is when he sets his mind on something. He never gives up."

"And how's Robert?" she asked, temporarily relieved that her father wasn't close-by.

"Oh, him. I guess he's nursing his wounded pride after losing out to a much smaller man. We left him at the inn."

"I see... Are you now going to betray your sister, or will you let her go her own ways?" If he let them go, they might still get away.

"What can you expect? You know father would beat me to pulp if I didn't keep you," he answered with an embarra.s.sed chuckle. "So you better come with me without further fuss, sister."