Clayton Mackenzie Legge

“ The wind tossed the curls madly about the face of the poet, but still he did not move; only as the chill air struck through his thin shirt, he mechanically pulled his plaid about his shoulders, and dreamed on happily, of the old days, when the heart was young, before sorrow had embittered his life, dreamed of a life of love with Mary by his side, dreamed and dreamed far into the morning, and so Jean had found him and left him to his slumbers. ”

“ Why did ye refuse to write for my weekly? I offered to pay ye well for it,” he snarled.
“Pay!” flashed Rob indignantly. “Do you think to buy the fruit of my brain like so much merchandise, at so much a line for a penny newspaper? I am not a penny journalist, I am a poet. Whenever I embark on any undertaking it is with honest enthusiasm, and to talk of money, wage, or fee would [208] be a downright prostitution of the soul,” and his eyes flashed dangerously.
“You do not despise money, Robert Burns?” retorted Sir William sarcastically. ”

“ With a cry of grief and pain Mary sank weak and trembling into a chair, like a deer wounded unto death. She gazed at them heart-brokenly, while her little hands nervously fluttered about her face. No, no, he could not mean it. They were only joking, surely. “Not that, Robbie, ye dinna mean that, dearie?” she gasped piteously, holding out a beseeching hand to him. His bowed head bent lower.
“Do ye mean ye have legally married this lass?” asked Gilbert eagerly. Mary would be free then, he thought wildly. Free to be wooed and won.
“We were married a few weeks ago,” answered Robert dully. ”

“ But he quietly opened the door, and, without a word or look at her, stood silently holding it back, his head bowed low on his bosom, his face cold and repellent. Slowly Jean walked past him out into the deepening twilight. She felt a dawning pity in her heart for the wretched lad. She could not quite forget those old, happy days, those stolen walks and trysts along the banks of the Ayr. No one could make love so ardently as he, she thought with a sigh. Of all her lovers he had been the favorite, he was so ingenuous, so trustful and confiding, and yet so reckless, so imprudent and weak. ”

“ A snore from Souter, who had fallen asleep in his chair, roused him from the fond reverie into which he had fallen, and brought him back to earth with a start. With a bitter smile he told himself he had no right to complain. If he had allowed himself to fall in love with his brother’s betrothed, he alone was to blame, and he must suffer the consequence. Suddenly a wild thought entered his brain. Suppose—and his heart almost stopped beating at the thought—suppose Robert had grown to love someone else, while away, even better than he did Mary? ”

“ God!” she laughed wildly, hysterically, and threw herself face downward upon the ottoman. “Fool, fool!” she cried with bitter self-abasement. “How I hate and despise myself for what I have done; would I had died before I had uttered such damning words,” and she beat her jeweled hands frantically against the cushions.
“I beseech you to be careful, Lady Glencairn,” cried Robert in amazed alarm, going to her.
She turned on him fiercely. “You, of all men, posing as a model of virtue and goodness, prating of husband’s honor, wife’s duty.” ”

“ The thunder rolled along the sky in angry reverberating echoes, stilling the low voice, while frequent flashes of lightning leaped out like knives suddenly drawn from dark sheaths—yet toward the north over Greenock the sky was clearing, and streaks and beams of gold fell from the hidden sun, with a soothing promise of a clear and radiant sunset. Mary’s face brightened as she watched the sunbeams struggling through the lightened clouds, and she went on dreamily, in the prolonged lull of the storm:
“My home there will be so fine, much finer than the castle in Edinburgh.” ”

“ Do you think I will stand the humiliation of being repulsed, despised, shamed? I tell you no, no, never; ’tis but a step from love to hate, you should know that.” She paused in her nervous walking and stood facing him, her eyes ablaze with the uttermost anger, her beautiful figure drawn rigidly erect. “You shall be made to feel the depth of my hatred before long, Robert Burns,” she threatened, and there came a dangerous gleam in the flashing, dark eyes.
“I shall leave Edinburgh within the hour,” replied Robert quietly. Was there ever such another unfortunate being as himself? ”

“ He had heard rumors of Robert’s many amourous escapades in Mauchline; then perhaps Mary would again turn to him for comfort. His eyes shone with renewed hope and his heart was several degrees lighter as he left the house. Going to the high knoll back of the cottage, he gazed eagerly, longingly, across the moor to where, in the hazy distance, the lofty turrets of Castle Montgomery, the home of the winsome dairymaid, Mary Campbell, reared their heads toward the blue heavens. ”

“ Burns were seated in the living-room, Mrs. Burns as usual busy at her wheel, while Mary [50] sat sewing at the window, where she could look out across the fields and see her sweetheart, who, with a white sheet containing his seed corn slung across his shoulder, was scattering the grain in the earth. She sang dreamily as she sewed, her sweet face beaming with love and happiness. No presentiment warned her of the approaching tragedy that was soon to cast its blighting shadow over that happy household—a tragedy that was inevitable. The guilty one had sown to the flesh, he must reap corruption. ”

“ Having no aim in life he had been easily led from the paths of virtue into many forms of dissipation, which, when indulged in, afterwards plunged him into the deepest melancholy. A few months after his advent into the village he had met Jean Armour, the daughter of a master builder. She was one of the belles of Mauchline, a wild, willful, imprudent lass, whose sensual charms soon ensnared the susceptible heart of the unsophisticated farmer lad. ”

“ Panting with excitement and eagerness he failed to hear the metallic patter of horses’ hoofs drawing near the cottage. Nearer and nearer they came unheeded by all save one.
From his seat by the fireplace, where he sat in melancholy silence, Robert heard the sound, but gave it no heed. Suddenly it ceased. He raised his head to listen. Someone had surely stopped at the gate, he thought, straining his ears eagerly, but the noise of the fiddle and the dancing drowned all sound from without. He glanced quickly at the smiling faces of the others as they good-naturally watched the dancer. ”

“ Robert fixed his eyes upon her in silence and the utter scorn of the look stung her heart to its center. Presently he controlled his anger sufficiently to be able to speak, and still eying her with that straight, keen look of immeasurable disdain, he said in cold, deliberate accents, “Your ladyship has been misinformed as to my past conduct. I do not claim to be more than human, but I know my name is as yet clear from the taint of dishonor.” ”

“ The singular beauty of Lady Nancy Gordon was illumined by that happy expression of countenance which results from the union of cultivated tastes and superior understanding with the finest affections of mind, and the influence of such attractions had been keenly felt by the ardent poet, who was not altogether unaware of the impression he had made upon her heart, which was as susceptible to the charms of wit and intellect as was his own. ”

“ She walked to the door, then turned and fixing her eyes on him, she continued mournfully, “Do not quite forget me, will you, Robert? Let the scenes of nature remind you [370] of Nancy. In winter remember the dark shades of her life, for there are plenty; in summer, the warmth of her friendship; in autumn, her glowing wishes to bestow plenty on all, and let spring animate you with hopes that your absent friend may yet surmount the wintry blasts of life, and revive to taste a springtime of happiness.”
He bowed his head gravely. “I shall remember ye, Lady Nancy—friend,” he returned feelingly. ”

“ He turned and looked at her in wonder. As he saw the feverish flush on her face, felt her hot breath on his cheek, he remembered with a start her peculiar words and meaning looks at Athol Castle the night before. Lady Glencairn noted with apprehension the look of stern coldness spread quickly over his face, and the nervous tears of disappointment and passionate longing welled up in her eyes. ”

“ He scorns the joys his youth has known.
When Robert reached Ellisland the evening sun was flaming over the distant western hills. Not a breath stirred the crimson opening blossom, or the verdant spreading leaf. It was a golden moment for a poet’s heart. He stopped his horse by the door of the cottage and stood silently regarding his future home. He had secured from Mr. Miller in Dumfries, the owner of the farm, the keys, and declining the company of several, who offered to show him the way to his new possession, he set out on his journey in gloomy solitude. ”

“ By and by a group of ladies drifted out on the balcony. They were discussing the golden-haired girl, who had been introduced into their midst that evening, and the announcement of her marriage to the poet, Robert Burns. The gypsy, as she heard those words, uttered a smothered cry of amazement and horror, then sank half fainting on the grassy lawn, moaning like one stricken unto death. ”

“ Lady Glencairn laughed scornfully. “You foolish [239] child, do you think he will ever forgive you for stepping in between him and Mary Campbell again?” she asked with studied indifference. “No, he would hate you; you know his erratic temper, my dear Jean; you would but ruin your chance for a reconciliation forever, if he sees you now, when his heart is torn by grief and sorrow at losing for the second time the one lass who is all the world to him.” She paused and watched narrowly the look of dread and doubt creep slowly over the downcast face before her. ”

“ Robert shook his head with a doubting smile. “’Twill not be I who will tire first, my lord,” he returned quietly. “I know myself and the world so well. You see the novelty of a poet in my obscure situation, my imperfection of awkward rusticity has raised a partial tide of public notice which has borne me to a height where I am absolutely certain my abilities are inadequate to support me.” ”

“ Squire Armour glanced at him savagely. “Dinna ye dare talk to me, ye libertine, ye blasphemous rhymster. Ye dare to stand there wi’ my daughter, proclaiming her dishonor to my very eyes?”
“There is no dishonor, Squire Armour,” replied Robert calmly, “for your daughter is—my wife.”
“Your wife!” echoed the old man, staggering back in amazement. “I’ll nae believe it. It’s a lie. I’d rather see my daughter disgraced forever than be your wife.”
“Father, are you mad?” gasped Jean in horrified accents.
“An’ ye an Elder in the Kirk, a so-called ‘God-fearin’ man’!” ”

“ It is, indeed, a lasting pity that such genius should be allowed to smother here in poverty and among questionable companions, who, ’tis said, seek only to bring him to their level, and who, alas! are but too surely dragging him there, I fear, a weak, unresisting, but also a remorseful, repentant victim.”
“And must he stay on here, father, to die a poor exciseman?” asked Nancy with a strangely beating heart. “Even the added salary of the Supervisorship cannot be sufficient to keep such a family.” At that moment Souter opened the door. ”

“ He held the weeping child in his strong, loving embrace, his face close to hers. “Oh, why was I born, only to bring sorrow, pain an’ disgrace to those I hold dear?” he cried in an agony of grief and remorse. “Bitterly am I atonin’ for my act o’ imprudence; an exile, a failure,” he gave a mirthless little laugh; “aye, a failure, for e’en the hopes of success held out to me have a’ vanished in disappointment. Oblivion has enveloped me in its darkening pall, for whichever way I turn naught but darkest gloom, with not e’en a ray of light, meets my wretched gaze.” ”