Stone of Destiny by Ian Hamilton Read Free Book Online Page B

lesser man would have argued pro and argued con, and might even have doubted our morality to say nothing of our sanity. Not this man. He knew what we were after and saw the advantages in a flash.
    ‘What do you think?’ asked Kay, turning towards him and speaking for the first time.
    ‘Well, you know, Kay,’ he said. ‘You’ll lose your job as a teacher.’
    ‘I know,’ she said.
    ‘And it’s scarcely a task for a girl. Even the minor hardships of a trip to London by road at this time of the year are something you should consider.’
    ‘I would be going home anyway,’ she said. ‘And there are no trains to Inverasdale.’
    One up for Kay, I thought.
    I sat back and listened to the conversation with a considerable amount of amusement. The man, proceeding carefully from point to point, opened up avenues of escape for Kay to run along had she been looking for an excuse to escape. The girl did not let her point drop for a moment and quietly parried all his objections.
    At last it was Kay’s chance to ask a question.
    ‘Will I get expelled from the Covenant movement if I go?’ she asked rather worriedly.
    ‘Whatever else happens, they will not do that,’ he said spiritedly, and thereafter Kay’s decision to come with me was so unassailable that he desisted from badgering her.
    We finished our coffee and rose to go. Outside it was a grey colourless evening. Wisps of starlings crossed the sky like swift smoke. We stood among the hurrying figures in Waterloo Street and John MacCormick looked at us and said quietly, ‘For 20 years in the Scottish movement I’ve made it a rule never to ask anyone to do anything I wouldn’t do myself. I can’t help you any more with this, but if between now and Christmas you want to back out don’t be frightened to come and tell me.’
    We laughed at him, but as I went away I knew the bitterness of the mind torn two ways. This man had used himself ruthlessly in the service of Scotland for half a lifetime. It had been his boast that he would use anyone as ruthlessly as he had used himself. Now, when his boast was being proved and someone else was going forward instead of himself, he found that it is easier to sacrifice oneself than one’s friends.
    The next day I approached one or two possible recruits. Three of them immediately turned me down for reasons the validity of which I was in no position to challenge. This disturbed me a great deal. For the first time there were people in possession of our intention who had no stake in the plan, and who were under no necessity to keep a still tongue. There was nothing I could do about this except trust to Scottish taciturnity, and in the months that followed my trust was justified.
    The fourth man that I approached jumped at the opportunity with avid glee. He listened intently to the whole plan from beginning to end, and was as impatient to start as I was myself. Gavin Vernon, our number three, was a 24-year-old engineering student who had the Scotsman’s delight in the risky enterprise that aims at high things. He was quite short of stature, but heavily built and of considerable physical strength, which he delighted in showing. Opening beer bottles with his teeth made him a useful man at a party. Although his features had the raw-boned, obstinate set usually associated with the Lowlander and were overset with a bristling English moustache he was far from dour.Indeed his mad recklessness got him into many scrapes that no dour Scot was designed for.
    With three people our team was now complete and we were almost ready to leave. We met in my room in Park Quadrant and time and again went over our maps and diagrams. This was, I suppose, what the Royal Air Force calls briefing, and we briefed ourselves as often as we all had a spare moment to foregather. We were not trained to follow maps, and I was the only one with firsthand knowledge of the Abbey, so it was necessary for them to memorise every detail.
    Meanwhile I had my own worries. I