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The Standard Bearer

CHAPTER V. I CONSTRUCT A RAFT

Word Count: 1878    |    Released on: 17/11/2017

ain from the MS. of

of water, and more the extension of the river than, as it were, a lake of set intent, has yet many broad, still stretches

d of the loch. We saw, however, the rut which the prow of the boat had made in taking the pebbles, and the large stone to which it had been fas

knee, and told her that I must take her home to find her mother. And also that because

he asked, for from the first she

ot willingly nor yet trustingly as she had done to Anna, but rather wit

quite to the edge of the water, so that for the first quarter of a mile Mary Gordon

en moving cautiously through{44} the trees, and were indeed just about to emerge from the brushwood, when

Who goe

h the instinctive craft born of years of persecution and conce

it necessary to enter the wood-where, indeed, for all he knew

urs hail him from the next pos

the wood," he retu

rade higher up, cheerily. "There are many of them about.

spoken-as it were, in order to cl

voice caused me t

ted fugitive. What chance was there for a couple of children to pass the guarded line? By myself I might, indeed, have managed. I could well enough have rushed across the line when the

rew, taking care that no more rotten sticks should snap beneath our feet. For I knew th

he edge of the lake, we came upon a couple of sheepfolds. One of these belonged to our own

e home. You promis

ess and tears as she found herself going fur

soldier men would shoot us,

hing at my hand pettishly, and then throwing it from

es your Aunti

g way?" she answered. "It is in

yet longer and more difficult road than to the Earlstoun, and the line

lstoun, Gordonston, and even our own little farm town of Ardarroch were all manned and watched, but the half-ruinous block-house{47} of Lochinvar set in the midst of its moorland loc

dwelt there and we could find our way. Suddenly, as we looked about, an

heavy wooden gates swung upon posts driven deep into the ground. The gates lifted away easily from their hinges. Two or three of these would make a secure enough raft if I could only f

of failure. The man in the brown coat lying prone{48} on his face up there abov

"buchts" from end to end. I found three gates which could be easil

uld only break a limb from a tree and draw them down to the loch shore on that, even as I had often help

with all its wealth of rustling leaves upon it. But the snap I made in breaking it off from the tree would certai

d us we came again

49} Gordon a branch to tug at, which made her happier than anything I had done since Anna

corner of our own "buchts" my father kept some well-tarred hempen cord, which I had seen him place there only the day be

four blocks of stone split into faces. There was little enough of it when I rove it out, but

a trifle heavy. It was some time before I hit upon a plan of launching my top-heavy craft. With the loose "stob" of a gatepost{50} I managed to lever the

ater. With the end of the rope in my hand I climbed on board, but soon found that with my weight the top

ind a raft on a midsummer night. For among other ploys Hob and I would often play at a sort of tilting or tou

ft where I had placed her. Soon she had begun to take an interest in the adventure, and had forgotten her weariness. She did not, however,{51} again speak of her mother, but said that she w

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The Standard Bearer
The Standard Bearer
“A book iron-grey and chill is this that I have written, the tale of times when the passions of men were still working like a yeasty sea after the storms of the Great Killing. If these pages should chance to be read when the leaves are greening, they may taste somewhat unseasonably in the mouth. For in these days the things of the spirit had lost their old authority without gaining a new graciousness, and save for one man the ancient war-cry of “God and the Kirk” had become degraded to “The Kirk and God.””
1 THE FOREWORD2 CHAPTER I. THE YEAR TERRIBLE3 CHAPTER II. THE BLOOD OF THE MARTYRS4 CHAPTER III. THE LITTLE LADY OF EARLSTOUN5 CHAPTER IV. MY SISTER ANNA6 CHAPTER V. I CONSTRUCT A RAFT7 CHAPTER VI. ACROSS THE MOONLIGHT8 CHAPTER VII. MY BROTHER HOB9 CHAPTER VIII. THE MUSTER OF THE HILL FOLK10 CHAPTER IX. I MEET MARY GORDON FOR THE SECOND TIME11 CHAPTER X. THE BLUE BANNER IS UP12 CHAPTER XI. THE RED GRANT13 CHAPTER XII. THE LASS IN THE KIRKYARD14 CHAPTER XIII. MY LADY OF PRIDE15 CHAPTER XIV. THE TALE OF MESS HAIRRY16 CHAPTER XV. ALEXANDER-JONITA17 CHAPTER XVI. THE CORBIES AT THE FEAST18 CHAPTER XVII. THE BONNY LASS OF EARLSTOUN19 CHAPTER XVIII. ONE WAY OF LOVE20 CHAPTER XIX. ANOTHER WAY OF LOVE21 CHAPTER XX. MUTTERINGS OF STORM22 CHAPTER XXI. THE EYES OF A MAID23 CHAPTER XXII. THE ANGER OF ALEXANDER-JONITA24 CHAPTER XXIII. AT BAY25 CHAPTER XXIV. MARY GORDON'S LAST WORD26 CHAPTER XXV. BEHIND THE BROOM27 CHAPTER XXVI. JEAN GEMMELL'S BARGAIN WITH GOD28 CHAPTER XXVII. RUMOUR OF WAR29 CHAPTER XXVIII. ALEXANDER-JONITA'S VICTORY30 CHAPTER XXIX. THE ELDERS OF THE HILL FOLK31 CHAPTER XXX. SILENCE IS GOLDEN32 CHAPTER XXXI. THE FALL OF EARLSTOUN33 CHAPTER XXXII. LOVE OR DUTY34 CHAPTER XXXIII. THE DEMONIAC IN THE GARRET35 CHAPTER XXXIV. THE CURSING OF THE PRESBYTERY36 CHAPTER XXXV. LIKE THE SPIRIT OF A LITTLE CHILD37 CHAPTER XXXVI. THE STONE OF STUMBLING38 CHAPTER XXXVII. FARE YOU WELL!39 CHAPTER XXXVIII. "I LOVE YOU, QUINTIN!"40 CHAPTER XXXIX. THE LAST ROARING OF THE BULL