By Loch and by Lin (7 page)

It was this fine gentleman who set his heart on winning Bonnie Baby Livingston for his wife. But Baby had no notion of what was in the young laird's mind. If it had ever occurred to her, she'd have laughed at the thought of becoming the bride of Glenlion. She had been bred to the gentler manners and quieter dress of the town, and she found his wild Highland ways too rough and rude to suit her taste. Although he had good looks, a title, a castle, and money galore, he had no chance at all of winning her heart. She had already given that to a fine young man of Dundee named Johnnie Hay, and Johnnie had given her his to make it a fair exchange.

At first Glenlion could not bring himself to believe that her love could not be won by him. But when he found out that it was true, his pride was sorely wounded to find himself so disdained by the lady he'd chosen to wed. If he had been able to get so much as a smile or a kindly look from her, at least he could have hoped. But though he waited and sighed and followed her about for months on end, de'il a bit of a smile or a look of kindness did he get in all that time to ease his pride or his heart. When at last he stopped to consider the time he had spent trying to win her favor, and all of it wasted, it was too much for his hot Highland blood. The worst of it was that the lass did not just snub him. She overlooked him, as if she did not know he was there. Whenever he came near her, she looked straight by him, as if she did not see him, and away she'd sweep on the arm of Johnnie Hay.

As might have been expected, there came a day when the Laird of Glenlion decided that he had had enough of being slighted. It was beyond bearing, he told himself, and he was the man to put a stop to the silly lass's nonsense. “Whether she will or no,” he vowed to himself, “Bonnie Baby Livingston is going to be my wife!”

By some strange trick of fate, that was the very day when Baby slipped away from her friends and walked out of the town by herself to watch the country folk making hay. And along the road on his tall black steed, the Laird of Glenlion came. To his joy and surprise, who did he see walking along before him but Bonnie Baby Livingston, all by herself alone.

He spurred up his horse and dashed to her side and swept her up into his arms. Before she could catch her breath or call for help, he had set her before him on his steed and galloped off at top speed. Alas for Bonnie Baby Livingston! The Laird of Glenlion had stolen her away.

He took away her silken coat and he took away her satin gown, and he rolled her up in his tartan plaid, and wrapped her closely round and round. In the curve of his arm he held her tight and she could not move nor turn. He would not let her speak a word, nor look back at the road by which they came. The black horse sped along like the wind over hill and dale and down, till they came to a Highland glen, where they met with Glenlion's brother Jock with twenty armed men.

“Come, brother, turn back,” Glenlion said. “Tomorrow will be my wedding day, and you must stand as my best man when this bonnie lady and I are wed.”

Then Jock turned his horse about, and back he rode at Glenlion's side, and ten armed men before them rode and ten armed men behind.

They came through the glen to the top of a hill where Glenlion stopped, and bade Baby look down. There was a wide green brae below with many cows and sheep.

“There's a hundred cows grazing there, and a hundred ewes beside,” he said. “And they all belong to me.”

But Baby was so weighed down with woe that she would not turn her head around to look down the wide green brae.

Then Glenlion bent down and kissed her cheek. “I'll give you all these cows and all these ewes, and more beside,” said he, “for only a single kindly look or a smile from your bonnie blue eyes.”

“You may keep all your cows and all your ewes for yourself,” said Bonnie Baby Livingston. “And you'll get no kindly look and no smile from my eyes unless you take me home again and set me down safe in Dundee.”

“Dundee, Baby? Dundee, Baby?” Glenlion said, with a laugh of scorn. “Dundee you'll never see, till I've carried you to Glenlion castle and you are wedded to me. We'll bide a bit at Auchingour to sup on sweet milk and cheese, then off to Glenlion castle we'll ride, where you shall become my bonnie bride.”

“I will not stop at Auchingour!” cried Baby. “I want no milk or cheese. To Glenlion I will not go, and I will never be your bride!”

“Whether you will or no,” said the laird, “you will do as I say. The mistress of Glenlion castle you'll be, and tomorrow will be our wedding day.”

Then Glenlion's brother Jock spoke up. “I tell you, brother, if I were you, I'd take that lady home again, for all her bonnie face. Better a lass that's loving and kind, though maybe not a lady born, than one whose heart you have not won, for she'll make your days heavy with hatred and scorn.”

“Och, hold your tongue now, Jock!” said the laird. “You do not know what you say. My heart has been lost to that bonnie face for a good twelvemonth and more. I've loved her long, and I've loved her true, and I've sworn my wife she'll be. And now that I have her in my grasp, I'll never let her get away.”

“Have your own way,” said his brother Jock. “But I doubt it will bring you much joy.” And having had his say, he wasted no more words, but silently rode on at the Laird of Glenlion's side.

They came to the end of their journeying as day was closing in, and saw the castle's gray walls and towers against the evening sky. Glenlion's three young sisters came out to welcome the travelers home. They put their arms around Baby's waist and led her gently into the hall, and each sister gave her a greeting warm, but she did not reply. She stood among them silently, and said no word at all. They unwrapped her from the plaid and brought her a dress of their own to wear. They bathed the salt tears from her face, and gently smoothed and combed her hair. They set her at the head of the table, and plied her with food and wine, but still she sat silent, not heeding them, and would not eat or drink.

“Take her away and let her rest,” said the laird. “The lass is too travel-worn to eat. She'll be hungry enough tomorrow, when she sits at our wedding feast.”

So the three young sisters took Bonnie Baby Livingston to a bower in one of the towers, and bidding her lie down and sleep, they left her there alone. When they had gone she ran to the door and opened it, but there were men standing at the foot of the stairs, so she could not go that way. She ran to the window, but the ground was too far below to leap out, and the wall too steep to climb down, and there was no other way by which she might escape. She sat down in a chair by the window, and leaned her head on her hand and wept.

While she sat there weeping the door opened softly and in slipped the laird's youngest sister, Jean. She saw Baby sitting there wrapped in grief, and crossed the room to her side.

“Oh, lady, do not weep,” said Jean, “and do not look so sorrowful. Tell your trouble to me and maybe it will ease your sad heart.”

“Why should I tell my trouble to you?” said Baby. “I have no friends in this strange place.”

“Then take me for your friend,” said Jean. “I promise that I will help you if I can.”

“Your brother, the Laird of Glenlion, has stolen me away from my family and all my friends, and from my true love in Dundee. Oh, if I but had pen and ink and paper, and someone to carry the letter I'd write, I'd send it to me true love. There might be time for him to come and rescue me.”

“I will help you,” said Jean, “if you will swear to me that my brother will never know. Heaven knows what he would do to me if he found out.”

Then Jean brought paper, pen, and ink, and a candle so that Baby could see to write a letter to her true love, Johnnie Hay.

Then Jean went away again and came back with a young Highland laddie whom she had secretly brought into the tower. He was a bonnie lad in his philabeg and bonnet, and Jean had chosen him because he was both fleet of foot and strong.

“This lady,” Jean told him, “has an errand for you to go.”

“If you would win my blessing this night,” said Bonnie Baby Livingston, “carry this letter to Johnnie Hay at Dundee. Bid him make haste to come and rescue me.” Then she showed the laddie a golden chain, and three golden guineas beside, and promised he should have them all if his errand was well-sped.

No lad in the Highlands could run so swiftly. He ran over hill and dale as fast as a bird could fly. As the hour of midnight struck, he came to the town of Dundee, and knocked loud and long at Johnnie Hay's door. Johnnie rose up in alarm and threw open his window and cried out, “Who's there?”

“I've brought you a letter from your lady,” said the laddie. “If you want to save her, you'll have to come down quickly and speed back to Glenlion with me.”

When Johnnie read the letter, an angry man was he! He swore that before the morning broke, the Laird of Glenlion would give up Bonnie Baby Livingston, and if any harm had come to her, the Highland laird would sorely rue this day.

He cried to his grooms, “Come saddle the gray horse for this braw laddie. And saddle for me my milk-white steed, for it is the fleetest that ever rode out of Dundee. He sent word to all his kinsmen for them to come out to join him, and they came riding, one hundred strong.

“Arm yourselves well and follow me,” cried Johnnie Hay. “We're off to Glenlion castle, for the Laird of Glenlion has stolen my true love away. I swear I'll neither eat nor sleep until Bonnie Baby Livingston is safe at home in Dundee!”

Then Johnnie mounted his milk-white steed and put the laddie on the gray, and with his kinsmen he galloped off, and reached Glenlion in sight of the castle walls about the break of day. They left their horses on the road and through the gates crept quietly. Johnnie's kinsmen took places to guard the door, but the laddie took Johnnie to the wall below the window in the tower.

At the window Baby stood, as the morning mists were rising gray, and she heard her true love calling to her and looked down, and there below was Johnnie Hay!

“Jump from the window, Baby!” he said. “You need not fear to fall. My arms are strong to hold you safe, and my kinsmen are at the castle gate, so you're free from Glenlion's power.”

But Baby feared to leap so far, for the tower window was high, so she made a rope of her coverlets and tied it fast above, and then she climbed down along the wall and Johnnie caught her in his arms before her foot could touch the ground. Then he set her before him on his horse and the two of them merrily rode away. As they sped away Baby looked back at the castle and cried with glee, “Glenlion, you have lost your bride. She's gone off with her true love, Johnnie Hay!”

Glenlion sat with his brother Jock, waiting for the priest to come. As Johnnie and Baby rode by the gate, the young laird heard the ringing of Johnnie's bridle chain. The laird called out to his brother Jock. “Go meet the priest and bring him in! I hear the clang of his bridle chain.” Well pleased he was, as he laughed and said, “Now Bonnie Baby Livingston will be my wife before the larks rise up to sing.”

Jock looked out the grill of the door, and back to his brother he ran and said, “Brother, that was no priest who came, and if he comes now, he'll come too late. There's a hundred of Johnnie Hay's kinsmen, armed with swords, standing outside at the castle door.”

The Laird of Glenlion stood in his hall, and raised a shout for his men. “Arm yourselves!” cried the Highland laird. “And take your swords in hand. We'll make these Dundee rascals sorry they came here today!”

Glenlion's men all drew their swords and gave a warlike shout. But with a hundred of Johnnie Hay's men outside to stand against the laird's twenty men, not one of Glenlion's men dared to be the first one to go out. So there they stood with their swords in hand, all the livelong day, while Bonnie Baby Livingston rode safely home to Dundee with Johnnie Hay.

The Highland laddie was a wise chiel. He rode behind them on the gray, and when he got to Dundee he took service with Johnnie Hay. Then Baby gave him the golden chain, and the three bright guineas of gold, and Johnnie gave him twenty pounds for running his errand so well that night. But he never went back to Glenlion again, for he thought it wiser to stay away.

Glenlion and his brother Jock and all their twenty armed men were shut up in their castle till night fell again. Then Johnnie's hundred kinsmen went marching home to Dundee, singing all the way:

“Away, Glenlion! Away for shame!

Go hide yourself in your glen!

You've let your bride be stolen away,

For all your armed men.”

The Tale of

Lang Johnnie Mor

DID you hear the tale of young Lang Johnnie Mor, the braw big laddie from Rhynie at the foot of Benachie? Johnnie was a good-sized lad for his age, which had just turned twenty years. It took three yards of leather belt to gird his waist around, and his shoulders were two yards wide. Lang Johnnie Mor was sturdy and strong, and the sword at his side was ten feet long, and Johnnie himself was fourteen feet in height.

Johnnie was not a man to waste words, so when he went away from Rhynie at the foot of Benachie he did not trouble himself to tell his kin and his friends where he was going or why. But news has a way of traveling till it gets to the place where it belongs, and folks in Rhynie found out what had become of their Lang Johnnie Mor.

Said one to another, “If all be true they tell, and I suppose it be, it's off to Lunnon town young Lang Johnnie Mor has gone.”

“Och, aye,” said t'other. “And if all be true I hear, and I suppose it be, he's gone to carry the banner there, for the Sassenach king.”

Then everybody said that, being a Rhynie lad, young Johnnie Mor would do well, no doubt, and now that they knew where Johnnie was, they went about on their own affairs.

When Johnnie had dwelt in Lunnon town for a twelvemonth and two, or maybe three, the fairest lady in the town fell in love with the bonnie big lad. She smiled so sweetly on Lang Johnnie Mor whenever he passed by, that what could young Johnnie do but fall in love with the fairest lady in Lunnon town?