CLUNY'S CAGE
We came at last to the foot of an exceeding steep wood, which scrambled up a
craggy hillside, and was crowned by a naked precipice.
"It's here," said one of the guides, and we struck up hill.
The trees clung upon the slope, like sailors on the shrouds of a ship, and
their trunks were like the rounds of a ladder, by which we mounted.
Quite at the top, and just before the rocky face of the cliff sprang above
the foliage, we found that strange house which was known in the country as "Cluny's
Cage." The trunks of several trees had been wattled across, the intervals
strengthened with stakes, and the ground behind this barricade levelled up with
earth to make the floor. A tree, which grew out from the hillside, was the
living centre-beam of the roof. The walls were of wattle and covered with moss.
The whole house had something of an egg shape; and it half hung, half stood in
that steep, hillside thicket, like a wasp's nest in a green hawthorn.
Within, it was large enough to shelter five or six persons with some comfort.
A projection of the cliff had been cunningly employed to be the fireplace; and
the smoke rising against the face of the rock, and being not dissimilar in
colour, readily escaped notice from below.
This was but one of Cluny's hiding-places; he had caves, besides, and
underground chambers in several parts of his country; and following the reports
of his scouts, he moved from one to another as the soldiers drew near or moved
away. By this manner of living, and thanks to the affection of his clan, he had
not only stayed all this time in safety, while so many others had fled or been
taken and slain: but stayed four or five years longer, and only went to France
at last by the express command of his master. There he soon died; and it is
strange to reflect that he may have regretted his Cage upon Ben Alder.
When we came to the door he was seated by his rock chimney, watching a gillie
about some cookery. He was mighty plainly habited, with a knitted nightcap drawn
over his ears, and smoked a foul cutty pipe. For all that he had the manners of
a king, and it was quite a sight to see him rise out of his place to welcome us.
"Well, Mr. Stewart, come awa', sir!" said he, "and bring in your friend that
as yet I dinna ken the name of."
"And how is yourself, Cluny?" said Alan. "I hope ye do brawly, sir. And I am
proud to see ye, and to present to ye my friend the Laird of Shaws, Mr. David
Balfour."
Alan never referred to my estate without a touch of a sneer, when we were
alone; but with strangers, he rang the words out like a herald.
"Step in by, the both of ye, gentlemen," says Cluny. "I make ye welcome to my
house, which is a queer, rude place for certain, but one where I have
entertained a royal personage, Mr. Stewart -- ye doubtless ken the personage I
have in my eye. We'll take a dram for luck, and as soon as this handless man of
mine has the collops ready, we'll dine and take a hand at the cartes as
gentlemen should. My life is a bit driegh," says he, pouring out the brandy;" I
see little company, and sit and twirl my thumbs, and mind upon a great day that
is gone by, and weary for another great day that we all hope will be upon the
road. And so here's a toast to ye: The Restoration!"
Thereupon we all touched glasses and drank. I am sure I wished no ill to King
George; and if he had been there himself in proper person, it's like he would
have done as I did. No sooner had I taken out the drain than I felt hugely
better, and could look on and listen, still a little mistily perhaps, but no
longer with the same groundless horror and distress of mind.
It was certainly a strange place, and we had a strange host. In his long
hiding, Cluny had grown to have all manner of precise habits, like those of an
old maid. He had a particular place, where no one else must sit; the Cage was
arranged in a particular way, which none must disturb; cookery was one of his
chief fancies, and even while he was greeting us in, he kept an eye to the
collops.
It appears, he sometimes visited or received visits from his wife and one or
two of his nearest friends, under the cover of night; but for the more part
lived quite alone, and communicated only with his sentinels and the gillies that
waited on him in the Cage. The first thing in the morning, one of them, who was
a barber, came and shaved him, and gave him the news of the country, of which he
was immoderately greedy. There was no end to his questions; he put them as
earnestly as a child; and at some of the answers, laughed out of all bounds of
reason, and would break out again laughing at the mere memory, hours after the
barber was gone.
To be sure, there might have been a purpose in his questions; for though he
was thus sequestered, and like the other landed gentlemen of Scotland, stripped
by the late Act of Parliament of legal powers, he still exercised a patriarchal
justice in his clan. Disputes were brought to him in his hiding-hole to be
decided; and the men of his country, who would have snapped their fingers at the
Court of Session, laid aside revenge and paid down money at the bare word of
this forfeited and hunted outlaw. When he was angered, which was often enough,
he gave his commands and breathed threats of punishment like any, king; and his
gillies trembled and crouched away from him like children before a hasty father.
With each of them, as he entered, he ceremoniously shook hands, both parties
touching their bonnets at the same time in a military manner. Altogether, I had
a fair chance to see some of the inner workings of a Highland clan; and this
with a proscribed, fugitive chief; his country conquered; the troops riding upon
all sides in quest of him, sometimes within a mile of where he lay; and when the
least of the ragged fellows whom he rated and threatened, could have made a
fortune by betraying him.
On that first day, as soon as the collops were ready, Cluny gave them with
his own hand a squeeze of a lemon (for he was well supplied with luxuries) and
bade us draw in to our meal.
"They," said he, meaning the collops, "are such as I gave his Royal Highness
in this very house; bating the lemon juice, for at that time we were glad to get
the meat and never fashed for kitchen.[28] Indeed, there were mair dragoons than
lemons in my country in the year forty-six."
[28]Condiment.
I do not know if the collops were truly very good, but my heart rose against
the sight of them, and I could eat but little. All the while Cluny entertained
us with stories of Prince Charlie's stay in the Cage, giving us the very words
of the speakers, and rising from his place to show us where they stood. By
these, I gathered the Prince was a gracious, spirited boy, like the son of a
race of polite kings, but not so wise as Solomon. I gathered, too, that while he
was in the Cage, he was often drunk; so the fault that has since, by all
accounts, made such a wreck of him, had even then begun to show itself.
We were no sooner done eating than Cluny brought out an old, thumbed, greasy
pack of cards, such as you may find in a mean inn; and his eyes brightened in
his face as he proposed that we should fall to playing.
Now this was one of the things I had been brought up to eschew like disgrace;
it being held by my father neither the part of a Christian nor yet of a
gentleman to set his own livelihood and fish for that of others, on the cast of
painted pasteboard. To be sure, I might have pleaded my fatigue, which was
excuse enough; but I thought it behoved that I should bear a testimony. I must
have got very red in the face, but I spoke steadily, and told them I had no call
to be a judge of others, but for my own part, it was a matter in which I had no
clearness.
Cluny stopped mingling the cards. "What in deil's name is this?" says he.
"What kind of Whiggish, canting talk is this, for the house of Cluny
Macpherson?"
"I will put my hand in the fire for Mr. Balfour," says Alan. "He is an honest
and a mettle gentleman, and I would have ye bear in mind who says it. I bear a
king's name," says he, cocking his hat; "and I and any that I call friend are
company for the best. But the gentleman is tired, and should sleep; if he has no
mind to the cartes, it will never hinder you and me. And I'm fit and willing,
sir, to play ye any game that ye can name."
"Sir," says Cluny, "in this poor house of mine I would have you to ken that
any gentleman may follow his pleasure. If your friend would like to stand on his
head, he is welcome. And if either he, or you, or any other man, is not
preceesely satisfied, I will be proud to step outside with him."
I had no will that these two friends should cut their throats for my sake.
"Sir," said I, "I am very wearied, as Alan says; and what's more, as you are
a man that likely has sons of your own, I may tell you it was a promise to my
father."
"Say nae mair, say nae mair," said Cluny, and pointed me to a bed of heather
in a corner of the Cage. For all that he was displeased enough, looked at me
askance, and grumbled when he looked. And indeed it must be owned that both my
scruples and the words in which I declared them, smacked somewhat of the
Covenanter, and were little in their place among wild Highland Jacobites.
What with the brandy and the venison, a strange heaviness had come over me;
and I had scarce lain down upon the bed before I fell into a kind of trance, in
which I continued almost the whole time of our stay in the Cage. Sometimes I was
broad awake and understood what passed; sometimes I only heard voices, or men
snoring, like the voice of a silly river; and the plaids upon the wall dwindled
down and swelled out again, like firelight shadows on the roof. I must sometimes
have spoken or cried out, for I remember I was now and then amazed at being
answered; yet I was conscious of no particular nightmare, only of a general,
black, abiding horror -- a horror of the place I was in, and the bed I lay in,
and the plaids on the wall, and the voices, and the fire, and myself.
The barber-gillie, who was a doctor too, was called in to prescribe for me;
but as he spoke in the Gaelic, I understood not a word of his opinion, and was
too sick even to ask for a translation. I knew well enough I was ill, and that
was all I cared about.
I paid little heed while I lay in this poor pass. But Alan and Cluny were
most of the time at the cards, and I am clear that Alan must have begun by
winning; for I remember sitting up, and seeing them hard at it, and a great
glittering pile of as much as sixty or a hundred guineas on the table. It looked
strange enough, to see all this wealth in a nest upon a cliff-side, wattled
about growing trees. And even then, I thought it seemed deep water for Alan to
be riding, who had no better battle-horse than a green purse and a matter of
five pounds.
The luck, it seems, changed on the second day. About noon I was wakened as
usual for dinner, and as usual refused to eat, and was given a dram with some
bitter infusion which the barber had prescribed. The sun was shining in at the
open door of the Cage, and this dazzled and offended me. Cluny sat at the table,
biting the pack of cards. Alan had stooped over the bed, and had his face close
to my eyes; to which, troubled as they were with the fever, it seemed of the
most shocking bigness.
He asked me for a loan of my money.
"What for?" said I.
"O, just for a loan," said he.
"But why?" I repeated. "I don't see."
"Hut, David!" said Alan, "ye wouldnae grudge me a loan?"
I would, though, if I had had my senses! But all I thought of then was to get
his face away, and I handed him my money.
On the morning of the third day, when we had been forty-eight hours in the
Cage, I awoke with a great relief of spirits, very weak and weary indeed, but
seeing things of the right size and with their honest, everyday appearance. I
had a mind to eat, moreover, rose from bed of my own movement, and as soon as we
had breakfasted, stepped to the entry of the Cage and sat down outside in the
top of the wood. It was a grey day with a cool, mild air: and I sat in a dream
all morning, only disturbed by the passing by of Cluny's scouts and servants
coming with provisions and reports; for as the coast was at that time clear, you
might almost say he held court openly.
When I returned, he and Alan had laid the cards aside, and were questioning a
gillie; and the chief turned about and spoke to me in the Gaelic.
"I have no Gaelic, sir," said I.
Now since the card question, everything I said or did had the power of
annoying Cluny. "Your name has more sense than yourself, then," said he angrily.
"for it's good Gaelic. But the point is this. My scout reports all clear in the
south, and the question is, have ye the strength to go?"
I saw cards on the table, but no gold; only a heap of little written papers,
and these all on Cluny's side. Alan, besides, had an odd look, like a man not
very well content; and I began to have a strong misgiving.
"I do not know if I am as well as I should be," said I, looking at Alan; "but
the little money we have has a long way to carry us."
Alan took his under-lip into his mouth, and looked upon the ground.
"David," says he at last, "I've lost it; there's the naked truth."
"My money too?" said I.
"Your money too," says Alan, with a groan. "Ye shouldnae have given it me.
I'm daft when I get to the cartes."
"Hoot-toot! hoot-toot!" said Cluny. "It was all daffing; it's all nonsense.
Of course you'll have your money back again, and the double of it, if ye'll make
so free with me. It would be a singular thing for me to keep it. It's not to be
supposed that I would be any hindrance to gentlemen in your situation; that
would be a singular thing!" cries he, and began to pull gold out of his pocket
with a mighty red face.
Alan said nothing, only looked on the ground.
"Will you step to the door with me, sir?" said I.
Cluny said he would be very glad, and followed me readily enough, but he
looked flustered and put out.
"And now, sir," says I, "I must first acknowledge your generosity."
"Nonsensical nonsense!" cries Cluny. "Where's the generosity? This is just a
most unfortunate affair; but what would ye have me do -- boxed up in this
bee-skep of a cage of mine -- but just set my friends to the cartes, when I can
get them? And if they lose, of course, it's not to be supposed ----" And here he
came to a pause.
"Yes," said I, "if they lose, you give them back their money; and if they
win, they carry away yours in their pouches! I have said before that I grant
your generosity; but to me, sir, it's a very painful thing to be placed in this
position."
There was a little silence, in which Cluny seemed always as if he was about
to speak, but said nothing. All the time he grew redder and redder in the face.
"I am a young man," said I, "and I ask your advice. Advise me as you would
your son. My friend fairly lost his money, after having fairly gained a far
greater sum of yours; can I accept it back again? Would that be the right part
for me to play? Whatever I do, you can see for yourself it must be hard upon a
man of any pride."
"It's rather hard on me, too, Mr. Balfour," said Cluny, "and ye give me very
much the look of a man that has entrapped poor people to their hurt. I wouldnae
have my friends come to any house of mine to accept affronts; no," he cried,
with a sudden heat of anger, "nor yet to give them!"
"And so you see, sir," said I, "there is something to be said upon my side;
and this gambling is a very poor employ for gentlefolks. But I am still waiting
your opinion."
I am sure if ever Cluny hated any man it was David Balfour. He looked me all
over with a warlike eye, and I saw the challenge at his lips. But either my
youth disarmed him, or perhaps his own sense of justice. Certainly it was a
mortifying matter for all concerned, and not least Cluny; the more credit that
he took it as he did.
"Mr. Balfour," said he, "I think you are too nice and covenanting, but for
all that you have the spirit of a very pretty gentleman. Upon my honest word, ye
may take this money -- it's what I would tell my son -- and here's my hand along
with it!"
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