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+ The Project Gutenberg eBook of Macleod Of Dare, by William Black.
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Macleod of Dare, by William Black
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Macleod of Dare
+
+Author: William Black
+
+Release Date: April 8, 2005 [EBook #15587]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MACLEOD OF DARE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Robert Cicconetti, Patricia A Benoy and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at www.pgdp.net.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="center"><img src="./images/cover.jpg" width="481" height="550" alt="Cover" /></div>
+<h1><a name="Page_0" id="Page_0" />MACLEOD OF DARE.</h1>
+
+<h4>BY</h4>
+
+<h2>WILLIAM BLACK,</h2>
+
+<h4>AUTHOR OF</h4>
+
+<h4>&quot;A PRINCESS OF THULE,&quot; &quot;THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A
+<br /> PHAETON,&quot; &quot;A
+DAUGHTER OF HETH,&quot; ETC., ETC.</h4>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h4>NEW YORK:
+<br />
+JOHN B. ALDEN, PUBLISHER,</h4>
+
+<h6>1883.</h6>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><ins class ="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title= "Table of Contents added by Transcriber.">CONTENTS</ins></h2>
+
+<div class="center">
+<table summary = "Table of Contents">
+<tbody>
+<tr>
+ <td><small>CHAPTER</small></td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>I.</b></a></td>
+ <td>THE SIX BOYS OF DARE.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>II.</b></a></td>
+ <td>MENTOR.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>III.</b></a></td>
+ <td>FIONAGHAL.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>IV.</b></a></td>
+ <td>WONDER-LAND.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>V.</b></a></td>
+ <td>IN PARK LANE.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>VI.</b></a></td>
+ <td>A SUMMER-DAY ON THE THAMES.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>VII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>VIII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>LAUREL COTTAGE.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>IX.</b></a></td>
+ <td>THE PRINCESS RIGHINN.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>X.</b></a></td>
+ <td>LAST NIGHTS.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>XI.</b></a></td>
+ <td>A FLOWER.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>XII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>WHITE HEATHER.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>XIII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>AT HOME.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>XIV.</b></a></td>
+ <td>A FRIEND.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>XV.</b></a></td>
+ <td>A CONFESSION.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>XVI.</b></a></td>
+ <td>REBELLION.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>XVII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>"FHIR A BHATA!"</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>XVIII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>CONFIDENCES.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>XIX.</b></a></td>
+ <td>A RESOLVE.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>XX.</b></a></td>
+ <td>OTTER-SKINS.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>XXI.</b></a></td>
+ <td>IN LONDON AGAIN.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><b>XXII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>DECLARATION.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII"><b>XXIII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>A RED ROSE.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV"><b>XXIV.</b></a></td>
+ <td>ENTHUSIASMS.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV"><b>XXV.</b></a></td>
+ <td>IN SUSSEX.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI"><b>XXVI.</b></a></td>
+ <td>AN INTERVIEW.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII"><b>XXVII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>AT A RAILWAY STATION.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII"><b>XXVIII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>A DISCLOSURE.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX"><b>XXIX.</b></a></td>
+ <td>FIRST IMPRESSIONS.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX"><b>XXX.</b></a></td>
+ <td>A GRAVE.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI"><b>XXXI.</b></a></td>
+ <td>OVER THE SEAS.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII"><b>XXXII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>HAMISH.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII"><b>XXXIII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>THE GRAVE OF MACLEOD OF MACLEOD.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV"><b>XXXIV.</b></a></td>
+ <td>THE UMPIRE.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV"><b>XXXV.</b></a></td>
+ <td>A CAVE IN MULL.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI"><b>XXXVI.</b></a></td>
+ <td>THE NEW TRAGEDY.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII"><b>XXXVII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>AN UNDERSTANDING.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII"><b>XXXVIII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>AFRAID.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX"><b>XXXIX.</b></a></td>
+ <td>A CLIMAX.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XL"><b>XL.</b></a></td>
+ <td>DREAMS.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLI"><b>XLI.</b></a></td>
+ <td>A LAST HOPE.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLII"><b>XLII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>THE WHITE-WINGED DOVE.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII"><b>XLIII.</b></a></td>
+ <td>DOVE OR SEA-EAGLE?</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV"><b>XLIV.</b></a></td>
+ <td>THE PRISONER.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLV"><b>XLV.</b></a></td>
+ <td>THE VOYAGE OVER.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align= "left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI"><b>XLVI.</b></a></td>
+ <td>THE END.</td>
+</tr>
+</tbody>
+</table></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<h1><a name="MACLEOD_OF_DARE" id="MACLEOD_OF_DARE" /><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1" />MACLEOD OF DARE.</h1>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I" />CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SIX BOYS OF DARE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The sun had sunk behind the lonely western seas; Ulva, and Lunga, and
+the Dutchman's Cap had grown dark on the darkening waters; and the
+smooth Atlantic swell was booming along the sombre caves; but up here in
+Castle Dare, on the high and rocky coast of Mull, the great hall was lit
+with such a blaze of candles as Castle Dare had but rarely seen. And yet
+there did not seem to be any grand festivities going forward; for there
+were only three people seated at one end of the long and narrow table;
+and the banquet that the faithful Hamish had provided for them was of
+the most frugal kind. At the head of the table sat an old lady with
+silvery-white hair and proud and fine features. It would have been a
+keen and haughty face but for the unutterable sadness of the
+eyes&mdash;blue-gray eyes under black eyelashes that must have been beautiful
+enough in her youth, but were now dimmed and worn, as if the weight of
+the world's sorrows had been too much for the proud, high spirit. On the
+right of Lady Macleod sat the last of her six sons, Keith by name, a
+tall, sparely built, sinewy young fellow, with a sun-tanned cheek and
+crisp and curling hair, and with a happy and careless look in his clear
+eyes and about his mouth that rather blinded one to the firm lines of
+his face. Glad youth shone there, and the health begotten of hard
+exposure to wind and <a name="Page_2" id="Page_2" />weather. What was life to him but a laugh: so long
+as there was a prow to cleave the plunging seas, and a glass to pick out
+the branching antlers far away amidst the mists of the corrie? To please
+his mother, on this the last night of his being at home, he wore the
+kilts; and he had hung his broad blue bonnet, with its sprig of
+juniper&mdash;the badge of the clan&mdash;on the top of one of many pikes and
+halberds that stood by the great fireplace. Opposite him, on the old
+lady's left hand, sat his cousin, or rather half-cousin, the
+plain-featured but large-hearted Janet, whom the poor people about that
+neighborhood regarded as being something more than any mere mortal
+woman. If there had been any young artist among that Celtic peasantry
+fired by religious enthusiasm to paint the face of a Madonna, it would
+have been the plain features of Janet Macleod he would have dreamed
+about and striven to transfer to his canvas. Her eyes were fine, it is
+true: they were honest and tender; they were not unlike the eyes of the
+grand old lady who sat at the head of the table; but, unlike hers, they
+were not weighted with the sorrow of years.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a dark hour you have chosen to go away from your home,&quot; said the
+mother; and the lean hand, resting on the table before her, trembled
+somewhat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, mother,&quot; the young man said, lightly, &quot;you know I am to have
+Captain &mdash;&mdash;'s cabin as far as Greenock; and there will be plenty of
+time for me to put the kilts away before I am seen by the people.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Keith,&quot; his cousin cried&mdash;for she was trying to be very cheerful,
+too&mdash;&quot;do you say that you are ashamed of the tartan?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ashamed of the tartan!&quot; he said, with a laugh. &quot;Is there any one who
+has been brought up at Dare who is likely to be ashamed of the tartan!
+When I am ashamed of the tartan I will put a pigeon's feather in my cap,
+as the new <i>suaicheantas</i> of this branch of Clann Leoid. But then, my
+good Janet, I would as soon think of taking my rifle and the dogs
+through the streets of London as of wearing the kilts in the south.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old lady paid no heed. Her hands were now clasped before her. There
+was sad thinking in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are the last of my six boys,&quot; said she, &quot;and you are going away
+from me too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, now, mother,&quot; said he, &quot;you must not make so <a name="Page_3" id="Page_3" />much of a holiday.
+You would not have me always at Dare? You know that no good comes of a
+stay-at-home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She knew the proverb. Her other sons had not been stay-at-homes. What
+had come to them!</p>
+
+<p>Of Sholto, the eldest, the traveller, the dare-devil, the grave is
+unknown; but the story of how he met his death, in far Arizona, came
+years after to England and to Castle Dare. He sold his life dearly, as
+became one of his race and name. When his cowardly attendants found a
+band of twenty Apaches riding down on them, they unhitched the mules and
+galloped off, leaving him to confront the savages by himself. One of
+these, more courageous than his fellows, advanced and drew his arrow to
+the barb; the next second he uttered a yell, and rolled from his saddle
+to the ground, shot through the heart. Macleod seized this instant, when
+the savages were terror-stricken by the precision of the white man's
+weapons, to retreat a few yards and get behind a mesquit-tree. Here he
+was pretty well sheltered from the arrows that they sent in clouds about
+him, while he succeeded in killing other two of his enemies who had
+ventured to approach. At last they rode off: and it seemed as though he
+would be permitted to rejoin his dastardly comrades. But the Indians had
+only gone to windward to set the tall grass on fire; and presently he
+had to scramble, burned and blinded, up the tree, where he was an easy
+mark for their arrows. Fortunately, when he fell he was dead. This was
+the story told by some friendly Indians to a party of white men, and
+subsequently brought home to Castle Dare.</p>
+
+<p>The next four of the sons of Dare were soldiers, as most of the Macleods
+of that family had been. And if you ask about the graves of Roderick and
+Ronald, what is one to say? They are known, and yet unknown. The two
+lads were in one of the Highland regiments that served in the Crimea.
+They both lie buried on the bleak plains outside Sevastopol. And if the
+memorial stones put up to them and their brother officers are falling
+into ruin and decay&mdash;if the very graves have been rifled&mdash;how is England
+to help that? England is the poorest country in the world. There was a
+talk some two or three years ago of putting up a monument on Cathcart
+Hill to the Englishmen who died in the Crimea; and that at least would
+have been some token of remembrance, even if we could not collect the
+scattered remains of our slain sons, as the French have done, but then
+that monument would have cost &pound;5000. How could England afford <a name="Page_4" id="Page_4" />&pound;5000?
+When a big American city takes fire, or when a district in France is
+inundated, she can put her hand into her pocket deeply enough; but how
+can we expect so proud a mother to think twice about her children who
+perished in fighting for her? Happily the dead are independent of
+forgetfulness.</p>
+
+<p>Duncan the Fair-haired&mdash;Donacha Ban, they called him, far and wide among
+the hills&mdash;lies buried in a jungle on the African coast. He was only
+twenty-three when he was killed: but he knew he had got the Victoria
+Cross. As he lay dying, he asked whether the people in England would
+send it to his mother, showing that his last fancies were still about
+Castle Dare.</p>
+
+<p>And Hector? As you cross the river at Sadowa, and pass through a bit of
+forest, some cornfields begin to appear, and these stretch away up to
+the heights of Chlum. Along the ridge there, by the side of the wood,
+are many mounds of earth. Over the grave of Hector Macleod is no proud
+and pathetic inscription such as marks the last resting-place of a young
+lieutenant who perished at Gravelotte&mdash;<i>Er ruht saft in wiedererkampfter
+deutscher Erde</i>&mdash;but the young Highland officer was well beloved by his
+comrades, and when the dead were being pitched into the great holes dug
+for them, and when rude hands were preparing the simple record, painted
+on a wooden cross&mdash;-&quot;<i>Hier liegen&mdash;tapfere Krieger</i>&quot;&mdash;a separate memento
+was placed over the grave of Under-lieutenant Hector Macleod of the
+&mdash;&mdash;th Imperial and Royal Cavalry Regiment. He was one of the two sons
+who had not inherited the title. Was it not a proud boast for this
+white-haired lady in Mull that she had been the mother of four baronets?
+What other mother in all the land could say as much? And yet it was that
+that had dimmed and saddened the beautiful eyes.</p>
+
+<p>And now her youngest&mdash;her Benjamin, her best-beloved&mdash;he was going away
+from her too. It was not enough that the big deer forest, the last of
+the possessions of the Macleods of Dare, had been kept intact for him,
+when the letting of it to a rich Englishman would greatly have helped
+the failing fortunes of the family; it was not enough that the poor
+people about, knowing Lady Macleod's wishes, had no thought of keeping a
+salmon spear hidden in the thatch of their cottages. Salmon and stag
+could no longer bind him to the place. The young blood stirred. And when
+he asked <a name="Page_5" id="Page_5" />her what good things came of being a stay-at-home, what could
+she say?</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly old Hamish threw wide the oaken doors at the end of the hall,
+and there was a low roar like the roaring of lions. And then a young
+lad, with the pipes proudly perched on his shoulder, marched in with a
+stately step, and joyous and shrill arose the Salute. Three times he
+marched round the long and narrow hall, finishing behind Keith Macleod's
+chair. The young man turned to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was well played, Donald,&quot; said he, in the Gaelic; &quot;and I will tell
+you that the Skye College in the old times never turned out a better
+pupil. And will you take a glass of whiskey now, or a glass of claret?
+And it is a great pity your hair is red, or they would call you Donull
+Dubh, and people would say you were the born successor of the last of
+the MacCruimins.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At this praise&mdash;imagine telling a piper lad that he was a fit successor
+of the MacCruimins, the hereditary pipers of the Macleods&mdash;the young
+stripling blushed hot; but he did not forget his professional dignity
+for all that. And he was so proud of his good English that he replied in
+that tongue.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will take a glass of the claret wine, Sir Keith,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>Young Macleod took up a horn tumbler, rimmed with silver, and having the
+triple-towered castle of the Macleods engraved on it, and filled it with
+wine. He handed it to the lad.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I drink your health, Lady Macleod,&quot; said he, when he had removed his
+cap; &quot;and I drink your health, Miss Macleod; and I drink your health,
+Sir Keith; and I would have a lighter heart this night if I was going
+with you away to England.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a bold demand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot take you with me, Donald; the Macleods have got out of the way
+of taking their piper with them now. You must stay and look after the
+dogs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you are taking Oscar with you, Sir Keith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I am. I must make sure of having one friend with me in the south.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I think I would be better than a collie,&quot; muttered the lad to
+himself, as he moved off in a proud and hurt way toward the door, his
+cap still in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>And now a great silence fell over these three; and Janet Macleod looked
+anxiously toward the old lady, who sat un<a name="Page_6" id="Page_6" />moved in the face of the
+ordeal through which she knew she must pass. It was an old custom that
+each night a pibroch should be played in Castle Dare in remembrance of
+her five slain sons; and yet on this one night her niece would fain have
+seen that custom abandoned. For was not the pibroch the famous and
+pathetic &quot;Cumhadh na Cloinne,&quot; the Lament for the Children, that Patrick
+Mor, one of the pipers of Macleod of Skye, had composed to the memory of
+his seven sons, who had all died within one year? And now the doors were
+opened, and the piper boy once more entered. The wild, sad wail arose:
+and slow and solemn was the step with which he walked up the hall. Lady
+Macleod sat calm and erect, her lips proud and firm, but her lean hands
+were working nervously together; and at last, when the doors were closed
+on the slow and stately and mournful Lament for the Children, she bent
+down the silvery head on those wrinkled hands and wept aloud. Patrick
+Mor's seven brave sons could have been no more to him than her six tall
+lads had been to her; and now the last of them was going away from her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know,&quot; said Janet, quickly, to her cousin across the table,
+&quot;that it is said no piper in the West Highlands can play 'Lord Lovat's
+Lament' like our Donald?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, he plays it very well; and he has got a good step,&quot; Macleod
+said. &quot;But you will tell him to play no more Laments to-night. Let him
+take to strathspeys if any of the lads come up after bringing back the
+boat. It will be time enough for him to make a Lament for me when I am
+dead. Come, mother, have you no message for Norman Ogilvie?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old lady had nerved herself again, though her hands were still
+trembling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope he will come back with you, Keith,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For the shooting? No, no, mother. He was not fit for the shooting about
+here: I have seen that long ago. Do you think he could lie for an hour
+in a wet bog? It was up at Fort William I saw him last year, and I said
+to him, 'Do you wear gloves at Aldershot?' His hands were as white as
+the hands of a woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is no woman's hand you have, Keith,&quot; his cousin said; &quot;it is a
+soldier's hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said he, with his face flushing, &quot;and if I had had Norman
+Ogilvie's chance&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But he paused. Could he reproach this old dame, on the very night of his
+departure, with having disappointed all those dreams of military service
+and glory that are almost the <a name="Page_7" id="Page_7" />natural inheritance of a Macleod of the
+Western Highlands? If he was a stay-at-home, at least his hands were not
+white. And yet, when young Ogilvie and he studied under the same
+tutor&mdash;the poor man had to travel eighteen miles between the two houses,
+many a time in hard weather&mdash;all the talk and aspirations of the boys
+were about a soldier's life; and Macleod could show his friend the
+various trophies, and curiosities sent home by his elder brothers from
+all parts of the world. And now the lily-fingered and gentle-natured
+Ogilvie was at Aldershot; while he&mdash;what else was he than a mere
+deer-stalker and salmon-killer?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ogilvie has been very kind to me, mother,&quot; he said, laughing. &quot;He has
+sent me a list of places in London where I am to get my clothes, and
+boots, and a hat; and by the time I have done that, he will be up from
+Aldershot, and will lead me about&mdash;with a string round my neck, I
+suppose, lest I should bite somebody.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You could not go better to London than in your own tartan,&quot; said the
+proud mother; &quot;and it is not for an Ogilvie to say how a Macleod should
+be dressed. But it is no matter, one after the other has gone; the house
+is left empty at last. And they all went away like you, with a laugh on
+their face. It was but a trip, a holiday, they said: they would soon be
+back to Dare. And where are they this night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Old Hamish came in.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It will be time for the boat now, Sir Keith, and the men are down at
+the shore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He rose, the handsome young fellow, and took his broad, blue bonnet with
+the badge of juniper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-by, cousin Janet,&quot; said he, lightly. &quot;Good-by, mother. You are not
+going to send me away in this sad fashion? What am I to bring you
+back&mdash;a satin gown from Paris? or a young bride to cheer up the old
+house?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She took no heed of the passing jest. He kissed her, and bade her
+good-by once more. The clear stars were shining over Castle Dare, and
+over the black shadows of the mountains, and the smoothly swelling
+waters of the Atlantic. There was a dull booming of the waves along the
+rocks.</p>
+
+<p>He had thrown his plaid round him, and he was wondering to himself as he
+descended the steep path to the shore. He could not believe that the two
+women were really saddened by his going to the south for awhile; he was
+not given to forebodings. And he had nearly reached the shore, when he
+was overtaken by some one running, with a light <a name="Page_8" id="Page_8" />step behind him. He
+turned quickly, and found his cousin before him, a shawl thrown round
+her head and shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Keith,&quot; said she, in a bright and matter-of-fact way, &quot;I have a
+message for you&mdash;from myself&mdash;and I did not want aunt to hear, for she
+is very proud, you know, and I hope you won't be. You know we are all
+very poor, Keith; and yet you must not want money in London, if only for
+the sake of the family; and you know I have a little, Keith, and I want
+you to take it. You won't mind my being frank with you. I have written a
+letter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She had the envelope in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if I would take money from any one, it would be from you, Cousin
+Janet; but I am not so selfish as that. What would all the poor people
+do if I were to take your money to London and spend it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have kept a little,&quot; said she, &quot;and it is not much that is needed. It
+is &pound;2000 I would like you to take from me, Keith. I have written a
+letter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, bless me, Janet, that is nearly all the money you've got!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I may not be able to earn any money for myself, but at least I
+would not think of squandering your little fortune. No, no; but I thank
+you all the same, Janet; and I know that it is with a free heart that
+you offer it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But this is a favor, Keith,&quot; said she. &quot;I do not ask you, to spend the
+money. But you might be in trouble; and you would be too proud to ask
+any one&mdash;perhaps you would not even ask me; and here is a letter that
+you can keep till then, and if you should want the money, you can open
+the letter, and it will tell you how to get it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And it is a poor forecast you are making, Cousin Janet,&quot; said he,
+cheerfully. &quot;I am to play the prodigal son, then. But I will take the
+letter. And good-bye again, Janet; and God bless you, for you are a
+kind-hearted woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She went swiftly up to Castle Dare again, and he walked on toward the
+shore. By-and-by he reached a small stone pier that ran out among some
+rocks, and by the side of it lay a small sailing launch, with four men
+in her, and Donald the piper boy perched up at the bow. There was a lamp
+swinging at her mast, but she had no sail up, for there was scarcely any
+wind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it time to go out now?&quot; said Macleod to Hamish <a name="Page_9" id="Page_9" />who stood waiting on
+the pier, having carried down his master's portmanteau.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, it will be time now, even if you will wait a little,&quot; said Hamish.
+And then the old man added, &quot;It is a dark night, Sir Keith, for your
+going away from Castle Dare.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And it will be the brighter morning when I come back,&quot; answered the
+young man, for he could not mistake the intention of the words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, indeed, Sir Keith; and now you will go into the boat, and you will
+take care of your footing, for the night is dark, and the rocks they are
+always slippery whatever.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Keith Macleod's foot was as familiar with the soft sea-weed of the
+rocks as it was with the hard heather of the hills, and he found no
+difficulty in getting into the broad-beamed boat. The men put out their
+oars and pushed her off. And now, in the dark night, the skirl of the
+pipes rose again; and it was no stately and mournful lament that young
+Donald played up there at the bow as the four oars struck the sea and
+sent a flash of white fire down into the deeps.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Donald,&quot; Hamish had said to him on the shore, &quot;when you are going out
+to the steamer, it is the 'Seventy-ninth's Farewell to Chubralter'
+that you will play, and you will play no other thing than that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And surely the Seventy-ninth were not sorry to leave Gibraltar when
+their piper composed for them so glad a farewell.</p>
+
+<p>At the high windows of Castle Dare the mother stood, and her niece, and
+as they watched the yellow lamp move slowly out from the black shore,
+they heard this proud and joyous march that Donald was playing to herald
+the approach of his master. They listened to it as it grew fainter and
+fainter, and as the small yellow star trembling over the dark waters,
+became more and more remote. And then this other sound&mdash;this blowing of
+a steam whistle far away in the darkness?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He will be in good time, aunt; she is a long way off yet,&quot; said Janet
+Macleod. But the mother did not speak.</p>
+
+<p>Out there on the dark and moving waters the great steamer was slowly
+drawing near the open boat; and as she came up, the vast hull of her,
+seen against the starlit sky, seemed a mountain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, Donald,&quot; Macleod called out, &quot;you will take the dog&mdash;here is the
+string; and you will see he does not spring into the water.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I will take the dog,&quot; muttered the boy, half to <a name="Page_10" id="Page_10" />himself. &quot;Oh yes,
+I will take the dog; but it is better if I was going with you, Sir
+Keith, than any dog.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A rope was thrown out, the boat dragged up to the side of the steamer,
+the small gangway let down, and presently Macleod was on the deck of the
+large vessel. Then Oscar was hauled up too, and the rope flung loose,
+and the boat drifted away into the darkness. But the last good-bye had
+not been said, for over the black waters came the sound of pipes once
+more, the melancholy wail of &quot;Macintosh's Lament.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Confound that obstinate brat!&quot; Macleod said to himself. &quot;Now he will go
+back to Castle Dare and make the women miserable.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The captain is below at his supper, Sir Keith,&quot; said the mate. &quot;Will
+you go down to him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I will go down to him,&quot; said he; and he made his way along the
+deck of the steamer.</p>
+
+<p>He was arrested by the sound of some one crying, and he looked down, and
+found a woman crouched under the bulwarks, with two small children
+asleep on her knee.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My good woman, what is the matter with you?&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The night is cold,&quot; she said in the Gaelic, &quot;and my children are cold;
+and it is a long way that we are going.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He answered her in her own tongue.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will be warmer if you go below; but here is a plaid for you,
+anyway;&quot; and with that he took the plaid from round his shoulders and
+flung it across the children, and passed on.</p>
+
+<p>That was the way of the Macleods of Dare. They had a royal manner with
+them. Perhaps that was the reason that their revenues were now far from
+royal.</p>
+
+<p>And meanwhile the red light still burned in the high windows of Castle
+Dare, and two women were there looking out on the pale stars and the
+dark sea beneath. They waited until they heard the plashing of oars in
+the small bay below, and the message was brought them that Sir Keith had
+got safely on board the great steamer. Then they turned away from the
+silent and empty night, and one of them was weeping bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is the last of my six sons that has gone from me,&quot; she said, coming
+back to the old refrain, and refusing to be comforted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I have lost my brother,&quot; said Janet Macleod, in <a name="Page_11" id="Page_11" />her simple way.
+&quot;But he will came back to us, auntie; and then we shall have great
+doings at Castle Dare.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II" />CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h3>MENTOR.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was with a wholly indescribable surprise and delight that Macleod
+came upon the life and stir and gayety of London in the sweet June time,
+when the parks and gardens and squares would of themselves have been a
+sufficient wonder to him. The change from the sombre shores of lochs Na
+Keal, and Iua, and Scridain to this world of sunlit foliage&mdash;the golden
+yellow of the laburnum, the cream-white of the chestnuts, the rose-pink
+of the red hawthorn, and everywhere the keen, translucent green of the
+young lime-trees&mdash;was enough to fill the heart with joy and gladness,
+though he had been no diligent student of landscape and color. The few
+days he had to spend by himself&mdash;while getting properly dressed to
+satisfy the demands of his friend&mdash;passed quickly enough. He was not at
+all ashamed of his country-made clothes as he watched the whirl of
+carriages in Piccadilly, or lounged under the elms at Hyde Park, with
+his beautiful silver-white and lemon-colored collie attracting the
+admiration of every passer-by. Nor had he waited for the permission of
+Lieutenant Ogilvie to make his entrance into, at least, one little
+corner of society. He was recognized in St. James's Street one morning
+by a noble lady whom he had met once or twice at Inverness; and she,
+having stopped her carriage, was pleased to ask him to lunch with
+herself and her husband next day. To the great grief of Oscar, who had
+to be shut up by himself, Macleod went up next day to Brook Street, and
+there met several people whose names he knew as representatives of old
+Highland families, but who were very English, as it seemed to him, in
+their speech and ways. He was rather petted, for he was a handsome lad,
+and he had high spirits and a proud air. And his hostess was so kind as
+to mention that the Caledonian Ball was coming off on the 25th, and of
+course he must come, in the Highland costume; and as she was one of the
+patronesses, should she give him a voucher? <a name="Page_12" id="Page_12" />Macleod answered,
+laughingly, that he would be glad to have it, though he did not know
+what it was; whereupon she was pleased to say that no wonder he laughed
+at the notion of a voucher being wanted for any Macleod of Dare.</p>
+
+<p>One morning a good-looking and slim young man knocked at the door of a
+small house in Bury Street, St. James's, and asked if Sir Keith Macleod
+was at home. The man said he was, and the young gentleman entered. He
+was a most correctly dressed person. His hat, and gloves, and cane, and
+long-tailed frock-coat were all beautiful; but it was, perhaps, the
+tightness of his nether garments, or, perhaps, the tightness of his
+brilliantly-polished boots (which were partially covered by white
+gaiters), that made him go up the narrow little stairs with some
+precision of caution. The door was opened and he was announced.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear old boy,&quot; said he, &quot;how do you do?&quot; and Macleod gave him a grip
+of the hand that nearly burst one of his gloves.</p>
+
+<p>But at this moment an awful accident occurred. From behind the door of
+the adjacent bedroom, Oscar, the collie, sprang forward with an angry
+growl; then he seemed to recognize the situation of affairs, when he saw
+his master holding the stranger's hand; then he began to wag his tail;
+then he jumped up with his fore-paws to give a kindly welcome.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hang it all, Macleod!&quot; young Ogilvie cried, with all the starch gone
+out of his manner; &quot;your dog's all wet? What's the use of keeping a
+brute like that about the place?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Alas! the beautiful, brilliant boots were all besmeared, and the white
+gaiters too, and the horsey-looking nether garments. Moreover, the
+Highland savage, so far from betraying compunction, burst into a roar of
+laughter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear fellow,&quot; he cried, &quot;I put him in my bedroom to dry. I couldn't
+do more, could I? He has just been in the Serpentine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish he was there now, with a stone and a string round his neck!&quot;
+observed Lieutenant Ogilvie, looking at his boots; but he repented him
+of this rash saying, for within a week he had offered Macleod &pound;20 for
+the dog. He might have offered twenty dozen of &pound;20, and thrown his
+polished boots and his gaiters too into the bargain, and he would have
+had the same answer.</p>
+
+<p>Oscar was once more banished into the bedroom; and Mr. Ogilvie sat down,
+pretending to take no more notice of his boots. Macleod put some sherry
+on the table, and a <a name="Page_13" id="Page_13" />handful of cigars; his friend asked whether he
+could not have a glass of seltzer-water and a cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And how do you like the rooms I got for you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is not much fresh air about them, nor in this narrow street,&quot;
+Macleod said, frankly; &quot;but that is no matter for I have been out all
+day&mdash;all over London.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought the price was as high as you would care to go,&quot; Ogilvie said;
+&quot;but I forgot you had come fresh up, with your pocket full of money. If
+you would like something a trifle more princely, I'll put you up to it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And where have I got the money? There are no gold mines in the west of
+Mull. It is you who are Fortunatus.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By Jove, if you knew how hard a fellow is run at Aldershot,&quot; Mr.
+Ogilvie remarked, confidentially, &quot;you would scarcely believe it. Every
+new batch of fellows who come in have to be dined all round; and the
+mess bills are simply awful. It's getting worse and worse; and then
+these big drinks put one off one's work so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are studying hard, I suppose,&quot; Macleod said, quite gravely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pretty well,&quot; said he, stretching out his legs, and petting his pretty
+mustache with his beautiful white hand. Then he added, suddenly,
+surveying the brown-faced and stalwart young fellow before him, &quot;By
+Jove, Macleod, I'm glad to see you in London. It's like a breath of
+mountain air. Don't I remember the awful mornings we've had
+together&mdash;the rain and the mist and the creeping through the bogs? I
+believe you did your best to kill me. If I hadn't had the constitution
+of a horse, I should have been killed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should say your big drinks at Aldershot were more likely to kill you
+than going after the deer,&quot; said Macleod, &quot;And will you come up with me
+this autumn, Ogilvie? The mother will be glad to see you, and Janet,
+too; though we haven't got any fine young ladies for you to make love
+to, unless you go up to Fort William, or Fort George, or Inverness. And
+I was all over the moors before I came away; and if there is anything
+like good weather, we shall have plenty of birds this year, for I never
+saw before such a big average of eggs in the nests.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder you don't let part of that shooting,&quot; said young Ogilvie, who
+knew well of the straitened circumstances of the Macleods of Dare.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The mother won't have it done,&quot; said Macleod, quite simply, &quot;for she
+thinks it keeps me at home. But a young <a name="Page_14" id="Page_14" />man cannot always stay at home.
+It is very good for you, Ogilvie, that you have brothers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, if I had been the eldest of them,&quot; said Mr. Ogilvie. &quot;It is a
+capital thing to have younger brothers; it isn't half so pleasant when
+you are the younger brother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And will you come up, then, and bury yourself alive at Dare?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is awfully good of you to ask me, Macleod; and if I can manage it, I
+will; but I am afraid there isn't much chance this year. In the
+meantime, let me give you a hint. In London we talk of going <i>down</i> to
+the Highlands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, do you? I did not think you were so stupid,&quot; Macleod remarked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, of course we do. You speak of going up to the capital of a
+country, and of going down to the provinces.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps you are right&mdash;no doubt you are right; but it sounds stupid,&quot;
+the unconvinced Highlander observed again. &quot;It sounds stupid to say
+going up to the south, and going down to the north. And how can you go
+down to the Highlands? You might go down to the Lowlands. But no doubt
+you are right; and I will be more particular. And will you have another
+cigarette? And then we will go out for a walk, and Oscar will get drier
+in the street than indoors.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't imagine I am going out to have that dog plunging about among my
+feet,&quot; said Ogilvie. &quot;But I have something else for you to do. You know
+Colonel Ross of Duntorme.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have heard of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;His wife is an awfully nice woman, and would like to meet you, I fancy
+they think of buying some property&mdash;I am not sure it isn't an island&mdash;in
+your part of the country; and she has never been to the Highlands at
+all. I was to take you down with me to lunch with her at two, if you
+care to go. There is her card.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod looked at the card.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How far is Prince's Gate from here?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A mile and a half, I should say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And it is now twenty minutes to two,&quot; said he, rising. &quot;It will be a
+nice smart walk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you,&quot; said Mr. Ogilvie; &quot;if it is all the same to you, we will
+perform the journey in a hansom. I am not in training just at present
+for your tramps to Ben-an-Sloich.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! Your boots are rather tight,&quot; said Macleod, with grave sympathy.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15" />They got into a hansom, and went spinning along through the crowd of
+carriages on this brilliant morning. The busy streets, the handsome
+women, the fine buildings, the bright and beautiful foliage of the
+parks&mdash;all these were a perpetual wonder and delight to the new-comer,
+who was as eager in the enjoyment of this gay world of pleasure and
+activity as any girl come up for her first season. Perhaps this notion
+occurred to the astute and experienced Lieutenant Ogilvie, who
+considered it his duty to warn his youthful and ingenuous friend.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mrs. Ross is a very handsome woman,&quot; he remarked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And uncommonly fascinating, too, when she likes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Really.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You had better look out, if she tries to fascinate you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is a married woman,&quot; said Macleod.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are always the worst,&quot; said this wise person; &quot;for they are
+jealous of the younger women.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, that is all nonsense,&quot; said Macleod, bluntly. &quot;I am not such a
+greenhorn. I have read all that kind of talk in books and magazines: it
+is ridiculous. Do you think I will believe that married women have so
+little self-respect as to make themselves the laughing stock of men?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear fellow, they have cart-loads of self-respect. What I mean is,
+that Mrs. Ross is a bit of a lion-hunter, and she may take a fancy to
+make a lion of you&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is better than to make an ass of me, as you suggested.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;&mdash;And naturally she will try to attach you to her set. I don't think
+you are quite <i>outre</i> enough for her; perhaps I made a mistake in
+putting you into decent clothes. You wouldn't have time to get into your
+kilts now? But you must be prepared to meet all sorts of queer folks at
+her house, especially if you stay on a bit and have some tea&mdash;mysterious
+poets that nobody ever heard of, and artists who won't exhibit, and
+awful swells from the German universities, and I don't know what
+besides&mdash;everybody who isn't the least like anybody else.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what is your claim, then, to go there?&quot; Macleod asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said the young lieutenant, laughing at the home-thrust, &quot;I am only
+admitted on sufferance, as a friend of Colonel Ross. She never asked
+<i>me</i> to put my name in her autograph-book. But I have done a bit of the
+jackal for her once <a name="Page_16" id="Page_16" />or twice, when I happened to be on leave; and she
+has sent me with people to her box at Covent Garden when she couldn't go
+herself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And how am I to propitiate her? What am I to do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She will soon let you know how you strike her. Either she will pet you,
+or she will snuff you out like winking. I don't know a woman who has a
+blanker stare, when she likes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This idle conversation was suddenly interrupted. At the same moment both
+young men experienced a sinking sensation, as if the earth had been cut
+away from beneath their feet; then there was a crash, and they were
+violently thrown against each other; then they vaguely knew that the
+cab, heeling over, was being jolted along the street by a runaway horse.
+Fortunately, the horse could not run very fast, for the axle-tree,
+deprived of its wheel, was tearing at the road; but, all the same, the
+occupants of the cab
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'though'">thought</ins>
+ they might as well get out, and so they
+tried to force open the two small panels of the door in front of them.
+But the concussion had so jammed these together that, shove at them as
+they might, they would not yield. At this juncture, Macleod, who was not
+accustomed to hansom cabs, and did not at all like this first experience
+of them, determined to get out somehow; and so he raised himself a bit,
+so as to get his back firm against the back of the vehicle; he pulled up
+his leg until his knee almost touched his mouth; he got the heel of his
+boot firmly fixed on the top edge of the door: and then with one forward
+drive he tore the panel right away from its hinges. The other was of
+course flung open at once. Then he grasped the brass rail outside,
+steadied himself for a moment, and jumped clear from the cab, lighting
+on the pavement. Strange to say, Ogilvie did not follow, though Macleod,
+as he rushed along to try to get hold of the horse, momentarily expected
+to see him jump out. His anxiety was of short duration. The axle-tree
+caught on the curb; there was a sudden lurch; and then, with a crash of
+glass, the cab went right over, throwing down the horse, and pitching
+the driver into the street. It was all the work of a few seconds; and
+another second seemed to suffice to collect a crowd, even in this quiet
+part of Kensington Gore. But, after all, very little damage was done,
+except to the horse, which had cut one of its hocks. When young Mr.
+Ogilvie scrambled out and got on to the pavement, instead of being
+grateful that his life had been spared, he was in a towering
+passion&mdash;with whom or what he knew not.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_17" id="Page_17" />Why didn't you jump out?&quot; said Macleod to him, after seeing that the
+cabman was all right.</p>
+
+<p>Ogilvie did not answer; he was looking at his besmeared hands and
+dishevelled clothes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Confound it!&quot; said he; &quot;what's to be done now? The house is just round
+the corner.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let us go in, and they will lend you a clothesbrush.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As if I had been fighting a bargee? No, thank you. I will go along till
+I find some tavern, and get myself put to rights.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And this he did gloomily, Macleod accompanying him. It was about a
+quarter of an hour before he had completed his toilet; and then they set
+out to walk back to Prince's Gate. Mr. Ogilvie was in a better humor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What a fellow you are to jump, Macleod!&quot; said he. &quot;If you had cannoned
+against that policeman you would have killed him. And you never paid the
+cabman for destroying the lid of the door; you prized the thing clean
+off its hinges. You must have the strength of a giant.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But where the people came from&mdash;it was that surprised me,&quot; said
+Macleod, who seemed to have rather enjoyed the adventure. &quot;It was like
+one of our sea-lochs in the Highlands&mdash;you look all round and cannot
+find any gull anywhere but throw a biscuit into the water, and you will
+find <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'then'">them</ins>
+appearing from all quarters at once. As for the door, I
+forgot that; but I gave the man half a sovereign to console him for his
+shaking. Was not that enough?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We shall be frightfully late for luncheon,&quot; said Mr. Ogilvie, with some
+concern.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III" />CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h3>FIONAGHAL.</h3>
+
+
+<p>And, indeed, when they entered the house&mdash;the balconies and windows were
+a blaze of flowers all shining in the sun&mdash;they found that their host
+and hostess had already come downstairs, and were seated at table with
+their small party of guests. This circumstance did not lessen Sir Keith
+Macleod's trepidation; for there is no denying the fact that the <a name="Page_18" id="Page_18" />young
+man would rather have faced an angry bull on a Highland road than this
+party of people in the hushed and semi-darkened and flower-scented room.
+It seemed to him that his appearance was the signal for a confusion that
+was equivalent to an earthquake. Two or three servants&mdash;all more solemn
+than any clergyman&mdash;began to make new arrangements; a tall lady, benign
+of aspect, rose and most graciously received him; a tall gentleman, with
+a gray mustache, shook hands with him; and then, as he vaguely heard
+young Ogilvie, at the other end of the room, relate the incident of the
+upsetting of the cab, he found himself seated next to this benign lady,
+and apparently in a bewildering paradise of beautiful lights and colors
+and delicious odors. Asparagus soup? Yes, he would take that; but for a
+second or two this spacious and darkened room, with its stained glass
+and its sombre walls, and the table before him, with its masses of roses
+and lilies-of-the-valley, its silver, its crystal, its nectarines, and
+cherries, and pineapples, seemed some kind of enchanted place. And then
+the people talked in a low and hushed fashion, and the servants moved
+silently and mysteriously, and the air was languid with the scents of
+fruits and flowers. They gave him some wine in a tall green glass that
+had transparent lizards crawling up its stem; he had never drunk out of
+a thing like that before.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was very kind of Mr. Ogilvie to get you to come; he is a very good
+boy; he forgets nothing,&quot; said Mrs. Ross to him; and as he became aware
+that she was a pleasant-looking lady of middle age, who regarded him
+with very friendly and truthful eyes, he vowed to himself that he would
+bring Mr. Ogilvie to task for representing this decent and respectable
+woman as a graceless and dangerous coquette. No doubt she was the mother
+of children. At her time of life she was better employed in the nursery
+or in the kitchen than in flirting with young men; and could he doubt
+that she was a good house-mistress when he saw with his own eyes how
+spick and span everything was, and how accurately everything was served?
+Even if his cousin Janet lived in the south, with all these fine flowers
+and hot-house fruits to serve her purpose, she could not have done
+better. He began to like this pleasant-eyed woman, though she seemed
+delicate, and a trifle languid, and in consequence he sometimes could
+not quite make out what she said. But then he noticed that the other
+people talked in this limp fashion too: there was no precision about
+their words; frequently they seemed to leave you to <a name="Page_19" id="Page_19" />guess the end of
+their sentences. As for the young lady next him, was she not very
+delicate also? He had never seen such hands&mdash;so small, and fine, and
+white. And although she talked only to her neighbor on the other side of
+her, he could hear that her voice, low and musical as it was, was only a
+murmur.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Miss White and I,&quot; said Mrs. Ross to him&mdash;and at this moment the young
+lady turned to them&mdash;&quot;were talking before you came in of the beautiful
+country you must know so well, and of its romantic stories and
+associations with Prince Charlie. Gertrude, let me introduce Sir Keith
+Macleod to you. I told Miss White you might come to us to-day; and she
+was saying what a pity it was that Flora MacDonald was not a Macleod.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was very kind&quot; said he, frankly, turning to this tall, pale girl,
+with the rippling hair of golden brown and the heavy-lidded and downcast
+eyes. And then he laughed. &quot;We would not like to steal the honor from a
+woman, even though she was a Macdonald, and you know the Macdonalds and
+the Macleods were not very friendly in the old time. But we can claim
+something too about the escape of Prince Charlie, Mrs. Ross. After Flora
+Macdonald had got him safe from Harris to Skye, she handed him over to
+the sons of Macleod of Raasay, and it was owing to them that he got to
+the mainland. You will find many people up there to this day who believe
+that if Macleod of Macleod had gone out in '45, Prince Charlie would
+never have had to flee at all. But I think the Macleods had done enough
+for the Stuarts; and it was but little thanks they ever got in return,
+so far as I could ever hear. Do you know, Mrs. Ross, my mother wears
+mourning every 3d of September, and will eat nothing from morning till
+night. It is the anniversary of the battle of Worcester; and then the
+Macleods were so smashed up that for a long time the other clans
+relieved them from military service.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are not much of a Jacobite, Sir Keith,&quot; said Mrs. Ross, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Only when I hear a Jacobite song sung,&quot; said he. &quot;Then who can fail to
+be a Jacobite?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had become quite friendly with this amiable lady. If he had been
+afraid that his voice, in these delicate southern ears, must sound like
+the first guttral drone of Donald's Pipes at Castle Dare, he had
+speedily lost that fear. The manly, sun-browned face and clear-glancing
+eyes were full of <a name="Page_20" id="Page_20" />animation; he was oppressed no longer by the
+solemnity of the servants; so long as he talked to her he was quite
+confident; he had made friends with this friendly woman. But he had not
+as yet dared to address the pale girl who sat on his right, and who
+seemed so fragile and beautiful and distant in manner.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;After all,&quot; said he to Mrs. Ross, &quot;there were no more Highlanders
+killed in the cause of the Stuarts than used to be killed every year or
+two merely out of the quarrels of the clans among themselves. All about
+where I live there is scarcely a rock, or a loch, or an island that has
+not its story. And I think,&quot; added he, with a becoming modesty, &quot;that
+the Macleods were by far the most treacherous and savage and
+bloodthirsty of the whole lot of them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And now the fair stranger beside him addressed him for the first time;
+and as she did so, she turned her eyes towards him&mdash;clear, large eyes
+that rather startled one when the heavy lids were lifted, so full of
+expression were they.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose,&quot; said she, with a certain demure smile, &quot;you have no wild
+deeds done there now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, we have become quite peaceable folks now,&quot; said he, laughing. &quot;Our
+spirit is quite broken. The wild boars are all away from the islands
+now, even from Muick; we have only the sheep. And the Mackenzies, and
+the Macleans, and the Macleods&mdash;they are all sheep now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Was it not quite obvious? How could any one associate with this
+bright-faced young man the fierce traditions of hate and malice and
+revenge, that makes the seas and islands of the north still more
+terrible in their loneliness? Those were the days of strong wills and
+strong passions, and of an easy disregard of individual life when the
+gratification of some set desire was near. What had this Macleod to do
+with such scorching fires of hate and of love? He was playing with a
+silver fork and half a dozen strawberries: Miss White's surmise was
+perfectly natural and correct.</p>
+
+<p>The ladies went upstairs, and the men, after the claret had gone round,
+followed them. And now it seemed to this rude Highlander that he was
+only going from wonder to wonder. Half-way up the narrow staircase was a
+large recess dimly lit by the sunlight falling through stained glass,
+and there was a small fountain playing in the middle of this grotto and
+all around was a wilderness of ferns dripping with the spray, while at
+the entrance two stone figures held up magical globes on which the
+springing and falling water was reflected. <a name="Page_21" id="Page_21" />Then from this partial gloom
+he emerged into the drawing-room&mdash;a dream of rose-pink and gold, with
+the air sweetened around him by the masses of roses and tall lilies
+about. His eyes were rather bewildered at first; the figures of the
+women seemed dark against the white lace of the windows. But as he went
+forward to his hostess, he could make out still further wonders of
+color; for in the balconies outside, in the full glare of the sun, were
+geraniums, and lobelias, and golden calceolarias, and red snapdragon,
+their bright hues faintly tempered by the thin curtains through which
+they were seen. He could not help expressing his admiration of these
+things that were so new to him, for it seemed to him that he had come
+into a land of perpetual summer and sunshine and glowing flowers. Then
+the luxuriant greenness of the foliage on the other side of Exhibition
+Road&mdash;for Mrs. Ross's house faced westward&mdash;was, as he said, singularly
+beautiful to one accustomed to the windy skies of the western isles.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you have not seen our elm&mdash;our own elm,&quot; said Mrs. Ross, who was
+arranging some azaleas that had just been sent her. &quot;We are very proud
+of our elm. Gertrude, will you take Sir Keith to see our noble elm?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had almost forgotten who Gertrude was; but the next second he
+recognized the low and almost timid voice that said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you come this way, then Sir Keith?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He turned, and found that it was Miss White who spoke. How was it that
+this girl, who was only a girl, seemed to do things so easily, and
+gently, and naturally, without any trace of embarrassment or
+self-consciousness? He followed her, and knew not which to admire the
+more, the careless simplicity of her manner, or the singular symmetry of
+her tall and slender figure. He had never seen any statue or any picture
+in any book to be compared with this woman, who was so fine, and rare,
+and delicate that she seemed only a beautiful tall flower in this garden
+of flowers. There was a strange simplicity, too, about her dress&mdash;a
+plain, tight-fitting, tight-sleeved dress of unrelieved black, her only
+adornment being some bands of big blue beads worn loosely round the
+neck. The black figure, in this shimmer of rose-pink and gold and
+flowers, was effective enough; but even the finest of pictures or the
+finest of statues has not the subtle attraction of a graceful carriage.
+Macleod had never seen any woman walk as this woman walked, in so
+stately and yet so simple a way.</p>
+
+<p>From Mrs. Ross's chief drawing-room they passed into an
+<a name="Page_22" id="Page_22" />antedrawing-room, which was partly a passage and partly a conservatory.
+On the window side were some rows of Cape heaths, on the wall side some
+rows of blue and white plates; and it was one of the latter that was
+engaging the attention of two persons in this anteroom&mdash;Colonel Ross
+himself, and a little old gentleman in gold-rimmed spectacles.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall I introduce you to my father?&quot; said Miss White to her companion;
+and, after a word or two, they passed on.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think papa is invaluable to Colonel Ross,&quot; said she: &quot;he is as good
+as an auctioneer at telling the value of china. Look at this beautiful
+heath. Mrs. Ross is very proud of her heaths.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The small white fingers scarcely touched the beautiful blossoms of the
+plant; but which were the more palely roseate and waxen? If one were to
+grasp that hand&mdash;in some sudden moment of entreaty, in the sharp joy of
+reconciliation, in the agony of farewell&mdash;would it not be crushed like a
+frail flower?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is our elm,&quot; said she, lightly. &quot;Mrs. Ross and I regard it as our
+own, we have sketched it so often.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They had emerged from the conservatory into a small square room, which
+was practically a continuation of the drawing-room, but which was
+decorated in pale blue and silver, and filled with a lot of knick-knacks
+that showed it was doubtless Mrs. Ross's boudoir. And out there, in the
+clear June sunshine, lay the broad greensward behind Prince's Gate, with
+the one splendid elm spreading his broad branches into the blue sky, and
+throwing a soft shadow on the corner of the gardens next to the house.
+How sweet and still it was!&mdash;as still as the calm, clear light in this
+girl's eyes. There was no passion there, and no trouble; only the light
+of a June day, and of blue skies, and a peaceful soul. She rested the
+tips of her fingers on a small rosewood table that stood by the window:
+surely, if a spirit ever lived in any table, the wood of this table must
+have thrilled to its core.</p>
+
+<p>And had he given all this trouble to this perfect creature merely that
+he should look at a tree? and was he to say some ordinary thing about an
+ordinary elm to tell her how grateful he was?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is like a dream to me,&quot; he said, honestly enough, &quot;since I came to
+London. You seem always to have sunlight and plenty of fine trees and
+hot-house flowers. But I suppose you have winter, like the rest us?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Or we should very soon tire of all this, beautiful as it <a name="Page_23" id="Page_23" />is,&quot; said
+she; and she looked rather wistfully out on the broad, still gardens.
+&quot;For my part, I should very soon tire of it. I should think there was
+more excitement in the wild storms and the dark nights of the north;
+there must be a strange fascination in the short winter days among the
+mountains, and the long winter nights by the side of the Atlantic.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her and smiled. That fierce fascination he knew something
+of: how had she guessed at it? And as for her talking as if she herself
+would gladly brave these storms&mdash;was it for a foam-bell to brave a
+storm? was it for a rose-leaf to meet the driving rains of
+Ben-an-Sloich?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall we go back now?&quot; said she; and as she turned to lead the way he
+could not fail to remark how shapely her neck was, for her rich
+golden-brown hair was loosely gathered up behind.</p>
+
+<p>But just at this moment Mrs. Ross made her appearance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come,&quot; said she, &quot;we shall have a chat all to ourselves; and you will
+tell me, Sir Keith, what you have seen since you came to London, and
+what has struck you most. And you must stay with us, Gertrude. Perhaps
+Sir Keith will be so kind as to freeze your blood with another horrible
+story about the Highlanders. I am only a poor southerner, and had to get
+up my legends from books. But this wicked girl, Sir Keith, delights as
+much in stories of bloodshed as a schoolboy does.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will not believe her,&quot; said Miss White, in that low-toned, gravely
+sincere voice of hers, while a faint shell-like pink suffused her face.
+&quot;It was only that we were talking of the highlands, because we
+understood you were coming; and Mrs. Ross was trying to make out&quot;&mdash;and
+here a spice of proud mischief came into her ordinarily calm eyes&mdash;&quot;she
+was trying to make out that you must be a very terrible and dangerous
+person, who would probably murder us all if we were not civil to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you know, Sir Keith,&quot; said Mrs. Ross, apologetically, &quot;you
+acknowledge yourself that you Macleods were a very dreadful lot of
+people at one time. What a shame it was to track the poor fellow over
+the snow, and then deliberately to put brushwood in front of the cave,
+and then suffocate whole two hundred persons at once!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, no doubt!&quot; said he; &quot;but the Macdonalds were asked first to
+give up the men that had bound the Macleods hand and foot and set them
+adrift in the boat, and they would not do it. And if the Macdonalds had
+got the Mac<a name="Page_24" id="Page_24" />leods into a cave, they would have suffocated them too. The
+Macdonalds began it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no, no, no,&quot; protested Mrs. Ross; &quot;I can remember better than that.
+What were the Macleods about on the island at all when they had to be
+sent off, tied hand and foot, in their boats?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what is the difference between tying a man hand and foot and
+putting him out in the Atlantic, and suffocating him in a cave? It was
+only by an accident that the wind drifted them over to Skye.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall begin to fear that you have some of the old blood in you,&quot; said
+Mrs. Ross, with a smile, &quot;if you try to excuse one of the cruelest
+things ever heard of.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not excuse it at all,&quot; said he, simply. &quot;It was very bad&mdash;very
+cruel. But perhaps the Macleods were not so much worse than others. It
+was not a Macleod at all, it was a Gordon&mdash;and she a woman, too&mdash;that
+killed the chief of the Mackintoshes after she had received him as a
+friend. 'Put your head down on the table,' said she to the chief, 'in
+token of your submission to the Earl of Huntly.' And no sooner had he
+bowed his neck than she whipped out a knife and cut his head off. That
+was a Gordon, not a Macleod. And I do not think the Macleods were so
+much worse than their neighbors, after all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, how can you say that?&quot; exclaimed his persecutor. &quot;Who was ever
+guilty of such an act of treachery as setting fire to the barn at
+Dunvegan? Macdonald and his men get driven on to Skye by the bad
+weather; they beg for shelter from their old enemy; Macleod professes to
+be very great friends with them; and Macdonald is to sleep in the
+castle, while his men have a barn prepared for them. You know very well,
+Sir Keith, that if Macdonald had remained that night in Dunvegan Castle
+he would have been murdered; and if the Macleod girl had not given a
+word of warning to her sweetheart, the men in the barn would have been
+burned to death. I think if I were a Macdonald I should be proud of that
+scene&mdash;the Macdonalds marching down to their boats with their pipes
+playing, while the barn was all in a blaze fired by their treacherous
+enemies. Oh, Sir Keith, I hope there are no Macleods of that sort alive
+now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There are not, Mrs. Ross,&quot; said he, gravely. &quot;They were all killed by
+the Macdonalds, I suppose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do believe,&quot; said she, &quot;that it was a Macleod who <a name="Page_25" id="Page_25" />built a stone
+tower on a lonely island, and imprisoned his wife there&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Miss White,&quot; the young man said, modestly, &quot;will not you help me? Am I
+to be made responsible for all the evil doings of my ancestors?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is really not fair, Mrs. Ross,&quot; said she; and the sound of this
+voice pleading for him went to his heart: it was not as the voice of
+other women.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I only meant to punish you,&quot; said Mrs. Ross, &quot;for having traversed the
+indictment&mdash;I don't know whether that is the proper phrase, or what it
+means, but it sounds well. You first acknowledge that the Macleods were
+by far the most savage of the people living up there: and then you tried
+to make out that the poor creatures whom they harried were as cruel as
+themselves.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is cruel now was not cruel then,&quot; he said; &quot;it was a way of
+fighting: it was what is called an ambush now&mdash;enticing your enemy, and
+then taking him at a
+ <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'disadvatage'">disadvantage</ins>.
+And if you did not do that to him,
+he would do it to you. And when a man is mad with anger or revenge, what
+does he care for anything?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought we were all sheep now,&quot; said she.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know the story of the man who was flogged by Maclean of
+Lochbuy&mdash;that is in Mull,&quot; said he, not heeding her remark. &quot;You do not
+know that old story?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They did not; and he proceeded to tell it in a grave and simple fashion
+which was sufficiently impressive. For he was talking to these two
+friends now in the most unembarrassed way; and he had, besides, the
+chief gift of a born narrator&mdash;an utter forgetfulness of himself. His
+eyes rested quite naturally on their eyes as he told his tale. But first
+of all, he spoke of the exceeding loyalty of the Highland folk to the
+head of their clan. Did they know that other story of how Maclean of
+Duart tried to capture the young heir of the house of Lochbuy, and how
+the boy was rescued and carried away by his nurse? And when, arrived at
+man's estate, he returned to revenge himself on those who had betrayed
+him, among them was the husband of the nurse. The young chief would have
+spared the life of this man, for the old woman's sake. &quot;<i>Let the tail go
+with the hide</i>,&quot; said she, and he was slain with the rest. And then the
+narrator went on to the story of the flogging. He told them how Maclean
+of Lochbuy was out after the deer one day; and his wife, with her child,
+had come out to see the shooting. They <a name="Page_26" id="Page_26" />were driving the deer; and at a
+particular pass a man was stationed so that, should the deer come that
+way, he should turn them back. The deer came to this pass; the man
+failed to turn them; and the chief was mad with rage. He gave orders
+that the man's back should be bared, and that he should be flogged
+before all the people.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well,&quot; continued Macleod. &quot;It was done. But it is not safe to do
+anything like that to a Highlander; at least it <i>was</i> not safe to do
+anything like that to a highlander in those days; for, as I told you,
+Mrs. Ross, we are all like sheep now. Then they went after the deer
+again; but at one moment the man that had been flogged seized Maclean's
+child from the nurse, and ran with it across the mountain-side, till he
+reached a place overhanging the sea. And he held out the child over the
+sea; and it was no use that Maclean begged on his knees for forgiveness.
+Even the passion of loyalty was lost now in the fierceness of his
+revenge. This was what the man said&mdash;that unless Maclean had his back
+bared there and then before all the people, and flogged as he had been
+flogged, then the child should be dashed into the sea below. There was
+nothing to be done but that&mdash;no prayers, no offers, no appeals from the
+mother, were of any use. And so it was that Maclean of Lochbuy was
+flogged there before his own people, and his enemy above looking on. And
+then? When it was over, the man called aloud, 'Revenged! revenged!' and
+sprang into the air with the child along with him; and neither of them
+was ever seen again after they had sunk into the sea. It is an old
+story.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>An old story, doubtless, and often told; but its effect on this girl
+sitting beside him was strange. Her clasped hands trembled; her eyes
+were glazed and fascinated as if by some spell. Mrs. Ross, noticing this
+extreme tension of feeling, and fearing it, hastily rose.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come, Gertrude,&quot; she said, taking the girl by the hand, &quot;we shall be
+frightened to death by these stories. Come and sing us a song&mdash;a French
+song, all about tears, and fountains, and bits of ribbon&mdash;or we shall be
+seeing the ghosts of murdered Highlanders coming in here in the
+daytime.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod, not knowing what he had done, but conscious that something had
+occurred, followed then into the drawing-room, and retired to a sofa,
+while Miss White sat down to the open piano. He hoped he had not
+offended her. He <a name="Page_27" id="Page_27" />would not frighten her again with any ghastly stories
+from the wild northern seas.</p>
+
+<p>And what was this French song that she was about to sing? The pale,
+slender fingers were wandering over the keys; and there was a
+sound&mdash;faint and clear and musical&mdash;as of the rippling of summer seas.
+And sometimes the sounds came nearer; and now he fancied he recognized
+some old familiar strain; and he thought of his cousin Janet somehow,
+and of summer days down by the blue waters of the Atlantic. A French
+song? Surely if this air, that seemed to come nearer and nearer, was
+blown from any earthly land, it had come from the valleys of Lochiel and
+Ardgour, and from the still shores of Arisaig and Moidart? Oh yes; it
+was a very pretty French song that she had chosen to please Mrs. Ross
+with.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;A wee bird cam' to our ha' door&quot;&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>this was what she sang; and though, to tell the truth, she had not much
+of a voice, it was exquisitely trained, and she sang with a tenderness
+and expression such as he, at least, had never heard before,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">&quot;He warbled sweet and clearly;<br /></span>
+<span>An' aye the o'ercome o' his sang<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was 'Wae's me for Prince Charlie!'<br /></span>
+<span>Oh, when I heard the bonnie bonnie bird<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The tears cam' drappin' rarely;<br /></span>
+<span>I took my bonnet off my head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For well I lo'ed Prince Charlie.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It could not have entered into his imagination to believe that such
+pathos could exist apart from the actual sorrow of the world. The
+instrument before her seemed to speak; and the low, joint cry was one of
+infinite grief, and longing, and love.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Quoth I, 'My bird, my bonnie, bonnie bird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is that a sang ye borrow?<br /></span>
+<span>Are these some words ye've learnt by heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or a lilt o' dool an' sorrow?<br /></span>
+<span>'Oh, no, no, no,' the wee bird sang;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">'I've flown sin' mornin' early;<br /></span>
+<span>But sic a day o' wind an' rain&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh, wae's me for Prince Charlie!'&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross glanced archly at him when she discovered what <a name="Page_28" id="Page_28" />sort of French
+song it was that Miss White had chosen; but he paid no heed. His only
+thought was, &quot;<i>If only the mother and Janet could hear this strange
+singing!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When she had ended, Mrs. Ross came over to him and said, &quot;That is a
+great compliment to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he answered, simply, &quot;I have never heard any singing like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then young Mr. Ogilvie&mdash;whose existence, by-the-way, he had entirely and
+most ungratefully forgotten&mdash;came up to the piano, and began to talk in
+a very pleasant and amusing fashion to Miss White. She was turning over
+the leaves of the book before her, and Macleod grew angry with this idle
+interference. Why should this lily-fingered jackanapes, whom a man could
+wind round a reel and throw out of window, disturb the rapt devotion of
+this beautiful Saint Cecilia?</p>
+
+<p>She struck a firmer chord; the bystanders withdrew a bit; and of a
+sudden it seemed to him that all the spirit of all the clans was ringing
+in the proud fervor of this fragile girl's voice. Whence had she got
+this fierce Jacobite passion that thrilled him to the very finger-tips?</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&quot;I'll to Lochiel, and Appin, and kneel to them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Down by Lord Murray and Roy of Kildarlie:<br /></span>
+<span>Brave Mackintosh, he shall fly to the field with them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">These are the lads I can trust wi' my Charlie!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Could any man fail to answer? Could any man die otherwise than gladly if
+he died with such an appeal ringing in his ears? Macleod did not know
+there was scarcely any more volume in this girl's voice now than when
+she was singing the plaintive wail that preceded it: it seemed to him
+that there was the strength of the tread of armies in it, and a
+challenge that could rouse a nation.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&quot;Down through the Lowlands, down wi' the Whigamore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Loyal true Highlanders, down wi' them rarely!<br /></span>
+<span>Ronald and Donald, drive on wi' the broad claymore<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Over the neck o' the foes o' Prince Charlie!<br /></span>
+<span>Follow thee! follow thee! wha wadna follow thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">King o' the Highland hearts, bonnie Prince Charlie!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>She shut the book, with a light laugh, and left the piano. She came over
+to where Macleod sat. When he saw that she meant to speak to him, he
+rose and stood before her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must ask your pardon,&quot; said she, smiling, &quot;for singing two Scotch
+songs, for I know the pronunciation is very difficult.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29" />He answered with no idle compliment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If <i>Tearlach ban og</i>, as they used to call him, were alive now,&quot; said
+he&mdash;and indeed there was never any Stuart of them all, not even the Fair
+Young Charles himself, who looked more handsome than this same Macleod
+of Dare who now stood before her&mdash;&quot;you would get him more men to follow
+him than any flag or standard he ever raised.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She cast her eyes down.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross's guests began to leave.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gertrude,&quot; said she, &quot;will you drive with me for half an hour&mdash;the
+carriage is at the door? And I know the gentlemen want to have a cigar
+in the shade of Kensington Gardens: they might come back and have a cup
+of tea with us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Miss White had some engagement; she and her father left together;
+and the young men followed them almost directly, Mrs. Ross saying that
+she would be most pleased to see Sir Keith Macleod any Tuesday or
+Thursday afternoon he happened to be passing, as she was always at home
+on these days.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think we can do better than take her advice about the cigar,&quot;
+said young Ogilvie, as they crossed to Kensington Gardens. &quot;What do you
+think of her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of Mrs. Ross?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I think she is a very pleasant woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, but,&quot; said Mr. Ogilvie, &quot;how did she strike you? Do you think she
+is as fascinating as some men think her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know what men think about her,&quot; said Macleod. &quot;It never
+occurred to me to ask whether a married woman was fascinating or not. I
+thought she was a friendly woman&mdash;talkative, amusing, clever enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They lit their cigars in the cool shadow of the great elms: who does not
+know how beautiful Kensington Gardens are in June? And yet Macleod did
+not seem disposed to be garrulous about these new experiences of his; he
+was absorbed, and mostly silent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is an extraordinary fancy she has taken for Gertrude White,&quot; Mr.
+Ogilvie remarked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why extraordinary?&quot; the other asked, with sudden interest.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, well, it is unusual, you know. But she is a nice girl enough, and
+Mrs. Ross is fond of odd folks. You didn't speak to old White?&mdash;his head
+is a sort of British Museum of antiquities; but he is of some use to
+these people&mdash;he is <a name="Page_30" id="Page_30" />such a swell about old armor, and china, and such
+things. They say he wants to be sent out to dig for Dido's funeral pyre
+at Carthage, and that he is only waiting to get the trinkets made at
+Birmingham.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They walked on a bit in silence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you made a good impression on Mrs. Ross,&quot; said Ogilvie, coolly.
+&quot;You'll find her an uncommonly useful woman, if she takes a fancy to
+you; for she knows everybody and goes everywhere, though her own house
+is too small to entertain properly. By-the-way, Macleod, I don't think
+you could have hit on a worse fellow than I to take you about, for I am
+so little in London that I have become a rank outsider. But I'll tell
+you what I'll do for you if you will go with me to-night to Lord
+Beauregard's who is an old friend of mine. I will ask him to introduce
+you to some people&mdash;and his wife gives very good dances&mdash;and if any
+royal or imperial swell comes to town, you'll be sure to run against him
+there. I forget who it is they are receiving there to-night; but anyhow
+you'll meet two or three of the fat duchesses whom Dizzy adores; and I
+shouldn't wonder if that Irish girl were there&mdash;the new beauty: Lady
+Beauregard is very clever at picking people up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will Miss White be there?&quot; Macleod asked, apparently deeply engaged in
+probing the end of his cigar.</p>
+
+<p>His companion looked up in surprise. Then a new fancy seemed to occur to
+him, and he smiled very slightly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, no,&quot; said he, slowly, &quot;I don't think she will. In fact, I am
+almost sure she will be at the Piccadilly Theatre. If you like, we will
+give up Lady Beauregard, and after dinner go to the Piccadilly Theatre
+instead. How will that do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think that will do very well,&quot; said Macleod.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV" />CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h3>WONDER-LAND.</h3>
+
+
+<p>A cool evening in June, the club windows open, a clear twilight shining
+over Pall Mall, and a <i>tete-a-tete</i> dinner at a small, clean, bright
+table&mdash;these are not the conditions in <a name="Page_31" id="Page_31" />which a young man should show
+impatience. And yet the cunning dishes which Mr. Ogilvie, who had a
+certain pride in his club, though it was only one of the junior
+institutions, had placed before his friend, met with but scanty
+curiosity: Macleod would rather have handed questions of cookery over to
+his cousin Janet. Nor did he pay much heed to his companion's sage
+advice as to the sort of club he should have himself proposed at, with a
+view to getting elected in a dozen or fifteen years. A young man is apt
+to let his life at forty shift for itself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You seem very anxious to see Miss White again,&quot; said Mr. Ogilvie, with
+a slight smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish to make all the friends I can while I am in London,&quot; said
+Macleod. &quot;What shall I do in this howling wilderness when you go back to
+Aldershot?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think Miss Gertrude White will be of much use to you. Colonel
+Ross may be. Or Lord Beauregard. But you cannot expect young ladies to
+take you about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No?&quot; said Macleod, gravely; &quot;that is a great pity.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Ogilvie, who, with all his knowledge of the world, and of wines and
+cookery, and women, and what not, had sometimes an uneasy consciousness
+that his companion was laughing at him, here proposed that they should
+have a cigar before walking up to the Piccadilly Theatre; but as it was
+now ten minutes to eight, Macleod resolutely refused. He begged to be
+considered a country person, anxious to see the piece from the
+beginning. And so they put on their light top-coats over their evening
+dress and walked up to the theatre.</p>
+
+<p>A distant sound of music, an odor of escaped gas, a perilous descent of
+a corkscrew staircase, a drawing aside of heavy curtains, and then a
+blaze of yellow light shining within this circular building, on its red
+satin and gilt plaster, and on the spacious picture of a blue Italian
+lake, with peacocks on the wide stone terraces. The noise at first was
+bewildering. The leader of the orchestra was sawing away at his violin
+as savagely as if he were calling on his company to rush up and seize a
+battery of guns. What was the melody that was being banged about by the
+trombones, and blared aloud by the shrill cornets, and sawed across by
+the infuriated violins? &quot;When the heart of a man is oppressed with
+care.&quot; The cure was never insisted on with such an angry vehemence.</p>
+
+<p>Recovering from the first shock of this fierce noise, Mac<a name="Page_32" id="Page_32" />leod began to
+look around this strange place, with its magical colors and its
+profusion of gilding; but nowhere in the half-empty stalls or behind the
+lace curtains of the boxes could he make out the visitor of whom he was
+in search. Perhaps she was not coming, then? Had he sacrificed the
+evening all for nothing? As regarded the theatre or the piece to be
+played, he had not the slightest interest in either. The building was
+very pretty, no doubt; but it was only, in effect, a superior sort of
+booth; and as for the trivial amusement of watching a number of people
+strut across a stage and declaim&mdash;or perhaps make fools of themselves to
+raise a laugh&mdash;that was not at all to his liking. It would have been
+different had he been able to talk to the girl who had shown such a
+strange interest in the gloomy stories of the Northern seas; perhaps,
+though he would scarcely have admitted this to himself, it might have
+been different if only he had been allowed to see her at some distance.
+But her being absent altogether? The more the seats in the stalls were
+filled&mdash;reducing the chances of her coming&mdash;the more empty the theatre
+seemed to become.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At least we can go along to that house you mentioned,&quot; said he to his
+companion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, don't be disappointed yet,&quot; said Ogilvie; &quot;I know she will be
+here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;With Mrs. Ross?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mrs. Ross comes very often to this theatre. It is the correct thing to
+do. It is high art. All the people are raving about the chief actress;
+artists painting her portrait; poets writing sonnets about her different
+characters&mdash;no end of a fuss. And Mrs. Ross is very proud that so
+distinguished a person is her particular friend.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you mean the actress?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; and makes her the big feature of her parties at present; and
+society is rather inclined to make a pet of her, too&mdash;patronizing high
+art, don't you know. It's wonderful what you can do in that way. If a
+duke wants a clown to make fellows laugh after a Derby dinner, he gets
+him to his house and makes him dance; and if the papers find it out, it
+is only raising the moral status of the pantomine. Of course it is
+different with Mrs. Ross's friend: she is all right socially.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The garrulous boy was stopped by the sudden cessation of the music; and
+then the Italian lake and the peacocks disappeared into unknown regions
+above; and behold! in <a name="Page_33" id="Page_33" />their place a spacious hall was revealed&mdash;not the
+bare and simple hall at Castle Dare with which Macleod was familiar, but
+a grand apartment, filled with old armor, and pictures, and cabinets,
+and showing glimpses of a balcony and fair gardens beyond. There were
+two figures in this hall, and they spoke&mdash;in the high and curious
+falsetto of the stage. Macleod paid no more heed to them than if they
+had been marionettes. For one thing, he could not follow their speech
+very well; but, in any case, what interest could he have in listening to
+this old lawyer explaining to the stout lady that the family affairs
+were grievously involved? He was still intently watching the new-comers
+who straggled in, singly or in pairs, to the stalls. When a slight
+motion of the white curtains showed that some one was entering one of
+the boxes, the corner of the box was regarded with as earnest a gaze as
+ever followed the movements of a herd of red deer in the misty chasms of
+Ben-an-Sloich. What concern had he in the troubles of this over-dressed
+and stout lady, who was bewailing her misfortunes and wringing her
+bejewelled hands?</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly his heart seemed to stand still altogether. It was a light,
+glad laugh&mdash;the sound of a voice he knew&mdash;that seemed to have pierced
+him as with a rifle-ball; and at the same moment from the green shimmer
+of foliage in the balcony there stepped into the glare of the hall a
+young girl with life, and laughter, and a merry carelessness in her face
+and eyes. She threw her arms around her mother's neck and kissed her.
+She bowed to the legal person. She flung her garden hat on to a couch,
+and got up on a chair to get fresh seed put in for her canary. It was
+all done so simply, and naturally, and gracefully that in an instant a
+fire of life and reality sprang into the whole of this sham thing. The
+woman was no longer a marionette, but the anguish-stricken mother of
+this gay and heedless girl. And when the daughter jumped down from the
+chair again&mdash;her canary on her finger&mdash;and when she came forward to pet,
+and caress, and remonstrate with her mother, and when the glare of the
+lights flashed on the merry eyes, and on the white teeth and laughing
+lips, there was no longer any doubt possible. Macleod's face was quite
+pale. He took the programme from Ogilvie's hand, and for a minute or two
+stared mechanically at the name of Miss Gertrude White, printed on the
+pink-tinted paper. He gave it him back without a word. Ogilvie only
+smiled; he was proud of the surprise he had planned.</p>
+
+<p>And now the fancies and recollections that came rush<a name="Page_34" id="Page_34" />ing into Macleod's
+head were of a sufficiently chaotic and bewildering character. He tried
+to separate that grave, and gentle, and sensitive girl he had met at
+Prince's Gate from this gay madcap, and he could not at all succeed. His
+heart laughed with the laughter of this wild creature; he enjoyed the
+discomfiture and despair of the old lawyer as she stood before him
+twirling her garden hat by a solitary ribbon; and when the small, white
+fingers raised the canary to be kissed by the pouting lips, the action
+was more graceful than anything he had ever seen in the world. But where
+was the silent and serious girl who had listened with such rapt
+attention to his tales of passion and revenge, who seemed to have some
+mysterious longing for those gloomy shores he came from, who had sung
+with such exquisite pathos &quot;A wee bird cam' to our ha' door?&quot; Her cheek
+had turned white when she heard of the fate of the son of Maclean:
+surely that sensitive and vivid imagination could not belong to this
+audacious girl, with her laughing, and teasings, and demure coquetry?</p>
+
+<p>Society had not been talking about the art of Mrs. Ross's <i>protegee</i> for
+nothing; and that art soon made short work of Keith Macleod's doubts.
+The fair stranger he had met at Prince's Gate vanished into mist. Here
+was the real woman; and all the trumpery business of the theatre, that
+he would otherwise have regarded with indifference or contempt, became a
+real and living thing, insomuch that he followed the fortunes of this
+spoiled child with a breathless interest and a beating heart. The spell
+was on him. Oh, why should she be so proud to this poor lover, who stood
+so meekly before her? &quot;Coquette, coquette&quot; (Macleod could have cried to
+her), &quot;the days are not always full of sunshine; life is not all youth,
+and beauty, and high spirits; you may come to repent of your pride and
+your cruelty.&quot; He had no jealousy against the poor youth who took his
+leave; he pitied him, but it was for her sake; he seemed to know that
+evil days were coming, when she would long for the solace of an honest
+man's love. And when the trouble came&mdash;as it speedily did&mdash;and when she
+stood bravely up at first to meet her fate, and when she broke down for
+a time, and buried her face in her hands, and cried with bitter sobs,
+the tears were running down his face. Could the merciful heavens see
+such grief, and let the wicked triumph? And why was there no man to
+succor her? Surely some times arise in which the old law is the good
+law, and a man will trust to his own right <a name="Page_35" id="Page_35" />arm to put things straight
+in the world? To look at her!&mdash;could any man refuse? And now she rises
+and goes away, and all the glad summer-time and the sunshine have gone,
+and the cold wind shivers through the trees, and it breathes only of
+farewell. Farewell, O miserable one! the way is dark before you, and you
+are alone. Alone, and no man near to help.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod was awakened from his trance. The act drop was let down; there
+was a stir throughout the theatre; young Ogilvie turned to him,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't you see who has come into that corner box up there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>If he had told that Miss White, just come up from Prince's Gate, in her
+plain black dress and blue beads, had just arrived and was seated there,
+he would scarcely have been surprised. As it was, he looked up and saw
+Colonel Ross taking his seat, while the figure of a lady was partially
+visible behind the lace curtain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder how often Mrs. Ross has seen this piece?&quot; Ogilvie said. &quot;And I
+think Colonel Ross is as profound a believer in Miss White as his wife
+is. Will you go up and see them now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; Macleod said, absently.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall tell them,&quot; said the facetious boy as he rose and got hold of
+his crush hat, &quot;that you are meditating a leap on to the stage to rescue
+the distressed damsel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then his conscience smote him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mind you,&quot; said he, &quot;I think it is awfully good myself. I can't pump up
+any enthusiasm for most things that people rave about, but I do think
+this girl is uncommonly clever. And then she always dresses like a
+lady.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With this high commendation, Lieutenant Ogilvie left, and made his way
+upstairs to Mrs. Ross's box. Apparently he was well received there, for
+he did not make his appearance again at the beginning of the next act,
+nor, indeed, until it was nearly over.</p>
+
+<p>The dream-world opens again; and now it is a beautiful garden, close by
+the ruins of an old abbey, and fine ladies are walking about there. But
+what does he care for these marionettes uttering meaningless phrases?
+They have no more interest for him than the sham ruins, so long as that
+one bright, speaking, pathetic face is absent; and the story they are
+carrying forward is for him no story at all, for he takes no heed of its
+details in his anxious watching for her <a name="Page_36" id="Page_36" />appearance. The sides of this
+garden are mysteriously divided: by which avenue shall she approach?
+Suddenly he hears the low voice&mdash;she comes nearer. Now let the world
+laugh again! But, alas! when she does appear, it is in the company of
+her lover, and it is only to bid him good-by. Why does the coward hind
+take her at her word? A stick, a stone, a wave of the cold sea, would be
+more responsive to that deep and tremulous voice, which has now no
+longer any of the art of a wilful coquetry about it, but is altogether
+as self-revealing as the generous abandonment of her eyes. The poor
+cipher! he is not the man to woo and win and carry off this noble woman,
+the unutterable soul surrender of whose look has the courage of despair
+in it. He bids her farewell. The tailor's dummy retires. And she? in her
+agony, is there no one to comfort her? They have demanded his sacrifice
+in the name of duty, and she has consented: ought not that to be enough
+to comfort her? then other people appear from other parts of the garden,
+and there is a Babel of tongues. He hears nothing; but he follows that
+sad face, until he could imagine that he listened to the throbbing of
+her aching heart.</p>
+
+<p>And then, as the phantasms of the stage come and go, and fortune plays
+many pranks with these puppets, the piece draws near to an end. And now
+as it appears, everything is reversed, and it is the poor lover who is
+in grievous trouble, while she is restored to the proud position of her
+coquetries and wilful graces again, with all her friends smiling around
+her, and life lying fair before her. She meets him by accident.
+Suffering gives him a certain sort of dignity: but how is one to retain
+patience with the blindness of this insufferable ass? Don't you see,
+man&mdash;don't you see that she is waiting to throw herself into your arms?
+and you, you poor ninny, are giving yourself airs, and doing the grand
+heroic! And then the shy coquetry comes in again. The pathetic eyes are
+full of a grave compassion, if he must really never see her more. The
+cat plays with the poor mouse, and pretends that really the tender thing
+is gone away at last. He will take this half of a broken sixpence back:
+it was given in happier times. If ever he should marry, he will know
+that one far away prays for his happiness. And if&mdash;if these unwomanly
+tears&mdash;And suddenly the crass idiot discovers that she is laughing at
+him, and that she has secured him and bound him as completely as a fly
+fifty times wound round by a spider. The crash of applause that
+accompanied the <a name="Page_37" id="Page_37" />lowering of the curtain stunned Macleod, who had not
+quite come back from dreamland. And then, amidst a confused roar the
+curtain was drawn a bit back, and she was led&mdash;timidly smiling, so that
+her eyes seemed to take in all the theatre at once&mdash;across the stage by
+that same poor fool of a lover; and she had two or three bouquets thrown
+her, notably one from Mrs. Ross's box. Then she disappeared, and the
+lights were lowered, and there was a dull shuffling of people getting
+their cloaks and hats and going away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mrs. Ross wants to see you for a minute,&quot; Ogilvie said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; Macleod answered, absently.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And we have time yet, if you like, to get into a hansom and drive along
+to Lady Beauregard's.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V" />CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN PARK LANE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>They found Mrs. Ross and her husband waiting in the corridor above.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, how did you like it?&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>He could not answer offhand. He was afraid he might say too much.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is like her singing,&quot; he stammered, at length. &quot;I am not used to
+these things. I have never seen anything like that before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We shall soon have her in a better piece,&quot; Mrs. Ross said. &quot;It is being
+written for her, That is very pretty, but slight. She is capable of
+greater things.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is capable of anything,&quot; said Macleod, simply, &quot;if she can make you
+believe that such nonsense is real. I looked at the others. What did
+they say or do better than mere pictures in a book? But she&mdash;it is like
+magic.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And did Mr. Ogilvie give you my message?&quot; said Mrs. Ross. &quot;My husband
+and I are going down to see a yacht race on the Thames to-morrow&mdash;we did
+not think of it till this evening any more than we expected to find you
+here. We came along to try to get Miss White to go with us. Will you
+join our little party?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_38" id="Page_38" />Oh, yes, certainly&mdash;thank you very much,&quot; Macleod said, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you'd better meet us at Charing Cross, at ten sharp,&quot; Colonel Ross
+said; &quot;so don't let Ogilvie keep you up too late with brandy and soda. A
+special will take us down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Brandy and soda!&quot; Mr. Ogilvie exclaimed. &quot;I am going to take him along
+for a few minutes to Lady Beauregard's&mdash;surely that is proper enough;
+and I have to get down by the 'cold-meat' train to Aldershot, so there
+won't be much brandy and soda for me. Shall we go now, Mrs. Ross?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am waiting for an answer,&quot; Mrs. Ross said, looking along the
+corridor.</p>
+
+<p>Was it possible, then, that she herself should bring the answer to this
+message that had been sent her&mdash;stepping out of the dream-world in which
+she had disappeared with her lover? And how would she look as she came
+along this narrow passage? Like the arch coquette of this land of
+gaslight and glowing colors? or like the pale, serious, proud girl who
+was fond of sketching the elm at Prince's Gate? A strange nervousness
+possessed him as he thought she might suddenly appear. He did not listen
+to the talk between Colonel Ross and Mr. Ogilvie. He did not notice that
+this small party was obviously regarded as being in the way by the
+attendants who were putting out the lights and shutting the doors of the
+boxes. Then a man came along.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Miss White's compliments, ma'am, and she will be very pleased to meet
+you at Charing Cross at ten to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And Miss White is a very brave young lady to attempt anything of the
+kind,&quot; observed Mr. Ogilvie, confidentially, as they all went
+downstairs; &quot;for if the yachts should get becalmed of the Nore, or off
+the Mouse, I wonder how Miss White will get back to London in time?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, we shall take care of that,&quot; said Colonel Ross. &quot;Unless there is a
+good steady breeze we sha'n't go at all; we shall spend a happy day at
+Rosherville, or have a look at the pictures at Greenwich. We sha'n't get
+Miss White into trouble. Good-bye, Ogilvie. Good-bye, Sir Keith.
+Remember ten o'clock, Charing Cross.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They stepped into their carriage and drove off.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now,&quot; said Macleod's companion, &quot;are you tired?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tired? I have done nothing all day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall we get into a hansom and drive along to Lady Beauregard's?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_39" id="Page_39" />Certainly, if you like. I suppose they won't throw you over again?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no,&quot; said Mr. Ogilvie, as he once more adventured his person in a
+cab. &quot;And I can tell you it is much better&mdash;if you look at the thing
+philosophically, as poor wretches like you and me must&mdash;to drive to a
+crush in a hansom than in your own carriage. You don't worry about your
+horses being kept out in the rain; you can come away at any moment;
+there is no fussing with servants, and rows because your man has got out
+of the rank&mdash;HOLD UP!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Whether it was the yell or not, the horse recovered from the slight
+stumble: and no harm befel the two daring travellers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;These vehicles give one some excitement,&quot; Macleod said&mdash;or rather
+roared, for Piccadilly was full of carriages. &quot;A squall in Loch Scridain
+is nothing to them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You'll get used to them in time,&quot; was the complacent answer.</p>
+
+<p>They dismissed the hansom at the corner of Piccadilly, and walked up
+Park Lane, so as to avoid waiting in the rank of carriages. Macleod
+accompanied his companion meekly. All this scene around him&mdash;the
+flashing lights of the broughams, the brilliant windows, the stepping
+across the pavement of a strangely dressed dignitary from some foreign
+land&mdash;seemed but some other part of that dream from which he had not
+quite shaken himself free. His head was still full of the sorrows and
+coquetries of that wild-spirited heroine. Whither had she gone by this
+time&mdash;away into some strange valley of that unknown world?</p>
+
+<p>He was better able than Mr. Ogilvie to push his way through the crowd of
+footmen who stood in two lines across the pavement in front of
+Beauregard House, watching for the first appearance of their master or
+mistress; but he resignedly followed, and found himself in the avenue
+leading clear up to the steps. They were not the only arrivals, late as
+the hour was. Two young girls, sisters, clad in cream-white silk with a
+gold fringe across their shoulders and sleeves, preceded them; and he
+was greatly pleased by the manner in which these young ladies, on
+meeting in the great hall an elderly lady who was presumably a person of
+some distinction, dropped a pretty little old-fashioned courtesy as they
+shook hands with her. He admired much less the more formal obeisance
+which he noticed a second after. A royal personage was leaving; and as
+this lady, who was dressed in mourning, and was leaning on the arm of a
+gentleman whose <a name="Page_40" id="Page_40" />coat was blazing with diamond stars, and whose breast
+was barred across with a broad blue ribbon, came along the spacious
+landing at the foot of the wide staircase, she graciously extended her
+hand and said a few words to such of the ladies standing by as she knew.
+That deep bending of the knee he considered to be less pretty than the
+little courtesy performed by the young ladies in cream-white silk. He
+intended to mention this matter to his cousin Janet.</p>
+
+<p>Then, as soon as the Princess had left the lane, through which she had
+passed closed up again, and the crowd became a confused mass of
+murmuring groups. Still meekly following, Macleod plunged into this
+throng, and presently found himself being introduced to Lady
+Beauregard&mdash;an amiable little woman who had been a great beauty in her
+time, and was pleasant enough to look at now. He passed on.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who is the man with the blue ribbon and the diamond star?&quot; he asked of
+Mr. Ogilvie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is Monsieur le Marquis himself&mdash;that is your host,&quot; the young
+gentleman replied&mdash;only Macleod could nor tell why he was obviously
+trying to repress some covert merriment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Didn't you hear?&quot; Mr. Ogilvie said at length. &quot;Don't you know what he
+called you? That man will be the death of me&mdash;for he's always at it. He
+announced you as Sir Thief Macleod&mdash;I will swear he did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should not have thought he had so much historical knowledge,&quot; Macleod
+answered, gravely. &quot;He must have been reading up about the clans.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At this moment Lady Beauregard, who had been receiving some other late
+visitors, came up and said she wished to introduce him to&mdash;he could not
+make out the name. He followed her. He was introduced to a stout elderly
+lady, who still had beautifully fine features, and a simple and calm air
+which rather impressed him. It is true that at first a thrill of
+compassion went through him; for he thought that some accident had
+befallen the poor lady's costume, and that it had fallen down a bit
+unknown to herself; but he soon perceived that most of the other women
+were dressed similarly, some of the younger ones, indeed, having the
+back of their dress open practically to the waist. He wondered what his
+mother and Janet would say to this style.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't you think the Princess is looking pale?&quot; he was asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_41" id="Page_41" />I thought she looked very pretty&mdash;I never saw her before,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>What next? That calm air was a trifle cold and distant. He did not know
+who the woman was, or where she lived, or whether her husband had any
+shooting, or a yacht, or a pack of hounds. What was he to say? He
+returned to the Princess.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I only saw her as she was leaving,&quot; said he. &quot;We came late. We were at
+the Piccadilly Theatre.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you saw Miss Gertrude White,&quot; said this stout lady; and he was glad
+to see her eyes light up with some interest. &quot;She is very clever, is she
+not&mdash;and so pretty and engaging. I wish I knew some one who knew her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know some friends of hers,&quot; Macleod said, rather timidly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, do you, really? Do you think she would give me a morning
+performance for my Fund?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This lady seemed to take it so much for granted that every one must have
+heard of her Fund that he dared not confess his ignorance. But it was
+surely some charitable thing; and how could he doubt that Miss White
+would immediately respond to such an appeal?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should think that she would,&quot; said he, with a little hesitation; but
+at this moment some other claimant came forward, and he turned away to
+seek young Ogilvie once more.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Oglivie'">Ogilvie</ins>,&quot; said he, &quot;who is that lady in the green satin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Duchess of Wexford.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Has she a Fund?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A Fund&mdash;a charitable Fund of some sort.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, let me see. I think she is getting up money for a new training
+ship&mdash;turning the young ragamuffins about the streets into sailors,
+don't you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think Miss White would give a morning performance for that
+Fund?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Miss White! Miss White! Miss White!&quot; said Lieutenant Ogilvie. &quot;I think
+Miss White has got into your head.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But the lady asked me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I should say it was exactly the thing that Miss White would like
+to do&mdash;get mixed up with a whole string of duchesses and
+marchionessses&mdash;a capital advertisement&mdash;and it would be all the more
+distinguished if it was an ama<a name="Page_42" id="Page_42" />teur performance, and Miss Gertrude White
+the only professional admitted into the charmed circle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are a very shrewd boy, Ogilvie,&quot; Macleod observed, &quot;I don't know
+how you ever got so much wisdom into so small a head.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And indeed, as Lieutenant Ogilvie was returning to Aldershot by what he
+was pleased to call the cold-meat train, he continued to play the part
+of mentor for a time with great assiduity, until Macleod was fairly
+confused with the number of persons to whom he was introduced, and the
+remarks his friend made about them. What struck him most, perhaps, was
+the recurrence of old Highland or Scotch family names, borne by persons
+who were thoroughly English in their speech and ways. Fancy a Gordon who
+said &quot;lock&quot; for &quot;loch;&quot; a Mackenzie who had never seen the Lewis; a Mac
+Alpine who had never heard the proverb, &quot;The hills, the Mac Alpines, and
+the devil came into the world at the same time!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a pretty scene: and he was young, and eager, and curious, and he
+enjoyed it. After standing about for half an hour or so, he got into a
+corner from which, in quiet, he could better see the brilliant picture
+as a whole: the bright, harmonious dresses; the glimpses of beautiful
+eyes and blooming complexions; the masses of foxgloves which Lady
+Beauregard had as the only floral decoration of the evening; the pale
+canary-colored panels and silver-fluted columns of the walls; and over
+all the various candelabra, each bearing a cluster of sparkling and
+golden stars. But there was something wanted. Was it the noble and
+silver-haired lady of Castle Dare whom he looked for in vain in that
+brilliant crowd that moved and murmured before him? Or was it the
+friendly and familiar face of his cousin Janet, whose eyes he knew,
+would be filled with a constant wonder if she saw such diamonds, and
+silks and satins? Or was it that <i>ignis fatuus</i>&mdash;that treacherous and
+mocking fire&mdash;that might at any time glimmer in some suddenly presented
+face with a new surprise? Had she deceived him altogether down at
+Prince's Gate? Was her real nature that of the wayward, bright,
+mischievous, spoiled child whose very tenderness only prepared her
+unsuspecting victim for a merciless thrust? And yet the sound of her
+sobbing was still in his ears. A true woman's heart beat beneath that
+idle raillery: challenged boldly, would it not answer loyally and
+without fear?</p>
+
+<p><ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Pyschological'">Psychological</ins> puzzles were new to this son of the mountains; and it is
+no wonder that, long after he had bidden good <a name="Page_43" id="Page_43" />bye to his friend
+Ogilvie, and as he sat thinking alone in his own room, with Oscar lying
+across the rug at his feet, his mind refused to be quieted. One picture
+after another presented itself to his imagination: the proud-souled
+enthusiast longing for the wild winter nights and the dark Atlantic
+seas; the pensive maiden, shuddering to hear the fierce story of Maclean
+of Lochbuy; the spoiled child, teasing her mamma and petting her canary;
+the wronged and weeping woman, her frame shaken with sobs, her hands
+clasped in despair; the artful and demure coquette, mocking her lover
+with her sentimental farewells. Which of them all was she? Which should
+he see in the morning? Or would she appear as some still more elusive
+vision, retreating before him as he advanced?</p>
+
+<p>Had he asked himself, he would have said that these speculations were
+but the fruit of a natural curiosity. Why should he not be interested in
+finding out the real nature of this girl, whose acquaintance he had just
+made? It has been observed, however, that young gentlemen do not always
+betray this frantic devotion to pyschological inquiry when the subject
+of it, instead of being a fascinating maiden of twenty, is a
+homely-featured lady of fifty.</p>
+
+<p>Time passed; another cigar was lit; the blue light outside was becoming
+silvery; and yet the problem remained unsolved. A fire of impatience and
+restlessness was burning in his heart; a din as of brazen
+instruments&mdash;what was the air the furious orchestra played?&mdash;was in his
+ears; sleep or rest was out of the question.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oscar!&quot; he called. &quot;Oscar, my lad, let us go out!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When he stealthily went downstairs, and opened the door and passed into
+the street, behold! the new day was shining abroad&mdash;and how cold, and
+still, and silent it was after the hot glare and whirl of that
+bewildering night! No living thing was visible. A fresh, sweet air
+stirred the leaves of the trees and bushes in St. James's Square. There
+was a pale lemon-yellow glow in the sky, and the long, empty
+thoroughfare of Pall Mall seemed coldly white.</p>
+
+<p>Was this a somnambulist, then, who wandered idly along through the
+silent streets, apparently seeing nothing of the closed doors and the
+shuttered windows on either hand? A Policeman, standing at the corner of
+Waterloo Place, stared at the apparition&mdash;at the twin apparition, for
+this tall young gentleman with the light top-coat thrown over his
+evening dress was accompanied by a beautiful collie that kept close <a name="Page_44" id="Page_44" />to
+his heels. There was a solitary four-wheeled cab at the foot of the
+Haymarket; but the man had got inside and was doubtless asleep. The
+embankment?&mdash;with the young trees stirring in the still morning air; and
+the broad bosom of the river catching the gathering glow of the skys. He
+leaned on the gray stone parapet, and looked out on the placid waters of
+the stream.</p>
+
+<p>Placid, indeed, they were as they went flowing quietly by; and the young
+day promised to be bright enough; and why should there be aught but
+peace and goodwill upon earth toward all men and women? Surely there was
+no call for any
+ <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'umrest'">unrest</ins>,
+or fear, or foreboding? The still and shining
+morning was but emblematic of his life&mdash;if only he knew, and were
+content. And indeed he looked contented enough, as he wandered on,
+breathing the cool freshness of the air, and with a warmer light from
+the east now touching from time to time his sun-tanned face. He went up
+to Covent Garden&mdash;for mere
+ <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'curiousity's'">curiosity's</ins>
+ sake. He walked along
+Piccadilly, and thought the elms in the Green Park looked more beautiful
+than ever. When he returned to his rooms he was of opinion that it was
+scarcely worth while to go to bed; and so he changed his clothes, and
+called for breakfast as soon as some one was up. In a short time&mdash;after
+his newspaper had been read&mdash;he would have to go down to Charing Cross.</p>
+
+<p>What of this morning walk? Perhaps it was unimportant enough. Only, in
+after-times, he once or twice thought of it; and very clearly indeed he
+could see himself standing there in the early light, looking out on the
+shining waters of the river. They say that when you see yourself too
+vividly&mdash;when you imagine that you yourself are standing before
+yourself&mdash;that is one of the signs of madness.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI" />CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h3>A SUMMER DAY ON THE THAMES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It occurred to him as he walked down to the station&mdash;perhaps he went
+early on the chance of finding her there alone&mdash;that he ought seriously
+to study the features of this girl's face; for was there not a great
+deal of character to be <a name="Page_45" id="Page_45" />learned, or guessed at, that way? He had but
+the vaguest notion of what she was really like. He knew that her teeth
+were pearly white when she smiled, and that the rippling golden-brown
+hair lay rather low on a calm and thoughtful forehead; but he had a less
+distinct impression that her nose was perhaps the least thing
+<i>retrousse</i>; and as to her eyes? They might be blue, gray, or green, but
+one thing he was sure of was that they could speak more than was ever
+uttered by any speech. He knew, besides, that she had an exquisite
+figure: perhaps it was the fact that her shoulders were a trifle squarer
+than is common with women that made her look somewhat taller than she
+really was.</p>
+
+<p>He would confirm or correct these vague impressions. And as the chances
+were that they would spend a whole long day together, he would have
+abundant opportunity of getting to know something about the character
+and disposition of this new acquaintance, so that she should no longer
+be to him a puzzling and distracting will-o'-the-wisp. What had he come
+to London for but to improve his knowledge of men and of women, and to
+see what was going on in the larger world? And so this earnest student
+walked down to the station.</p>
+
+<p>There were a good many people about, mostly in groups chatting with each
+other; but he recognized no one. Perhaps he was looking out for Colonel
+and Mrs. Ross; perhaps for a slender figure in black, with blue beads;
+at all events, he was gazing somewhat vacantly around when some one
+turned close by him. Then his heart stood still for a second. The sudden
+light that sprang to her face when she recognized him blinded him. Was
+it to be always so? Was she always to come upon him in a flash, as it
+were? What chance had the poor student of fulfilling his patient task
+when, on his approach, he was sure to be met by this surprise of the
+parted lips, and sudden smile, and bright look? He was far too
+bewildered to examine the outline of her nose or the curve of the
+exquisitely short upper lip.</p>
+
+<p>But the plain truth was that there was no
+ <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'entravagant'">extravagant</ins>
+joy at all in
+Miss White's face, but a very slight and perhaps pleased surprise; and
+she was not in the least embarrassed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you looking for Mrs. Ross,&quot; said she, &quot;like myself?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said he; and then he found himself exceedingly anxious to say a
+great deal to her, without knowing where to begin. She had surprised him
+too much&mdash;as usual. She was so different from what he had been dreaming
+about. <a name="Page_46" id="Page_46" />Here was no one of the imaginary creatures that had risen before
+his mind during the stillness of the night. Even the pale dreamer in
+black and blue beads was gone. He found before him (as far as he could
+make out) a quiet, bright-faced, self-possessed girl, clad in a light
+and cool costume of white, with bits of black velvet about it; and her
+white gloves and sunshade, and the white silver chain round her slender
+waist, were important features in the picture she presented. How could
+this eager student of character get rid of the distressing trivialities?
+All night long he had been dreaming of beautiful sentiments and
+conflicting emotions: now his first thought was that he had never seen
+any costume so delightfully cool, and clear, and summer-like. To look at
+her was to think of a mountain spring, icy cold even in the sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I always come early,&quot; said she, in the most matter-of-fact way. &quot;I
+cannot bear hurry in catching a train.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Of course not. How could any one associate rattling cabs, and excited
+porters, and frantic mobs with this serene creature, who seemed to have
+been wafted to Charing Cross on a cloud? And if he had had his will,
+there would have been no special train to disturb her repose. She would
+have embarked in a noble barge, and lain upon couches of swans-down, and
+ample awnings of silk would have sheltered her from the sun, while the
+beautiful craft floated away down the river, its crimson hangings here
+and there just touching the rippling waters.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ought we to take tickets?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That was what she actually said; but what those eloquent, innocent eyes
+seemed to say was, &quot;<i>Can you read what we have to tell you? Don't you
+know what a simple and confiding soul appeals to you?&mdash;clear as the
+daylight in its truth. Cannot you look through us and see the trusting,
+tender soul within?</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps we had better wait for Colonel Ross,&quot; said he; and there was a
+little pronoun in this sentence that he would like to have repeated. It
+was a friendly word. It established a sort of secret companionship. It
+is the proud privilege of a man to know all about railway tickets; but
+he rather preferred this association with her helpless innocence and
+ignorance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had no idea you were coming to-day. I rather like those surprise
+parties. Mrs. Ross never thought of going until last evening, she says.
+Oh, by the way, I saw you in the theatre last evening.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He almost started. He had quite forgotten that this self-<a name="Page_47" id="Page_47" />possessed,
+clear-eyed, pale girl was the madcap coquette whose caprices and griefs
+had alternately fascinated and moved him on the previous evening.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh indeed,&quot; he stammered. &quot;It was a great pleasure to me&mdash;and a
+surprise. Lieutenant Ogilvie played a trick on me. He did not tell me
+before we went that&mdash;that you were to appear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She looked amused.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You did not know, then, when we met at Mrs. Ross's that I was engaged
+at the Piccadilly Theatre?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not in the least,&quot; he said, earnestly, as if he wished her distinctly
+to understand that he could not have imagined such a thing to be
+possible.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You should have let me send you a box. We have another piece in
+rehearsal. Perhaps you will come to see that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now if these few sentences, uttered by those two young people in the
+noisy railway station, be taken by themselves and regarded, they will be
+found to consist of the dullest commonplace. No two strangers in all
+that crowd could have addressed each other in a more indifferent
+fashion. But the trivial nothings which the mouth utters may become
+possessed of awful import when accompanied by the language of the eyes;
+and the poor commonplace sentences may be taken up and translated so
+that they shall stand written across the memory in letters of flashing
+sunlight and the colors of June. &quot;<i>Ought we to take tickets?</i>&quot; There was
+not much poetry in the phrase but she lifted her eyes just then.</p>
+
+<p>And now Colonel Ross and his wife appeared, accompanied by the only
+other friend they could get at such short notice to join this scratch
+party&mdash;a demure little old lady who had a very large house on Campden
+Hill which everybody coveted. They were just in time to get comfortably
+seated in the spacious saloon carriage that had been reserved for them.
+The train slowly glided out of the station, and then began to rattle
+away from the midst of London. Glimpses of a keener blue began to
+appear. The gardens were green with the foliage of the early summer;
+martins swept across the still pools, a spot of white when they got into
+the shadow. And Miss White would have as many windows open as possible,
+so that the sweet June air swept right through the long carriage.</p>
+
+<p>And was she not a very child in her enjoyment of this sudden escape into
+the country? The rapid motion, the <a name="Page_48" id="Page_48" />silvery light, the sweet air, the
+glimpses of orchards, and farm-houses, and millstreams&mdash;all were a
+delight to her; and although she talked in a delicate, half-reserved,
+shy way with that low voice of hers, still there was plenty of vivacity
+and gladness in her eyes. They drove from Gravesend station to the
+river-side. They passed through the crowd waiting to see the yachts
+start. They got on board the steamer; and at the very instant that
+Macleod stepped from the gangway on to the deck, the military band on
+board, by some strange coincidence, struck up &quot;A Highland lad my love
+was born.&quot; Mrs. Ross laughed, and wondered whether the band-master had
+recognized her husband.</p>
+
+<p>And now they turned to the river; and there were the narrow and shapely
+cutters, with their tall spars, and their pennons fluttering in the
+sunlight. They lay in two tiers across the river, four in each tier, the
+first row consisting of small forty-tonners, the more stately craft
+behind. A brisk northeasterly wind was blowing, causing the bosom of the
+river to flash in ripples of light. Boats of every size and shape moved
+up and down and across the stream. The sudden firing of a gun caused
+some movement among the red-capped mariners of the four yachts in front.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are standing by the main halyards,&quot; said Colonel Ross to his
+women-folk. &quot;Now watch for the next signal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Another gun was fired; and all of a sudden there was a rattling of
+blocks and chains, and the four mainsails slowly rose, and the flapping
+jibs were run out. The bows drifted round: which would get way on her
+first? But now there was a wild uproar of voices. The boom end of one of
+the yachts had caught one of the stays of her companion, and both were
+brought up head to wind. Cutter No. 3 took advantage of the mishap to
+sail through the lee of both her enemies, and got clear away, with the
+sunlight shining full on her bellying canvas. But there was no time to
+watch the further adventures of the forty-tonners. Here and closer at
+hand were the larger craft, and high up in the rigging were the mites of
+men, ready to drop into the air, clinging on to the halyards. The gun is
+fired. Down they come, swinging in the air; and the moment they have
+reached the deck they are off and up the ratlines again, again to drop
+into the air until the gaff is high hoisted, the peak swinging this way
+and that, and the gray folds of the mainsail lazily flapping in the
+wind. The steamer begins to roar. The yachts fall away from their
+moorings, and one by one the sails fill out to the <a name="Page_49" id="Page_49" />fresh breeze. And
+now all is silence and an easy gliding motion, for the eight competitors
+have all started away, and the steamer is smoothly following them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How beautiful they are!&mdash;like splendid swans,&quot; Miss White said: she had
+a glass in her hand, but did not use it, for as yet the stately fleet
+was near enough.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A swan has a body,&quot; said Macleod. &quot;These things seem to me to be all
+wings. It is all canvas, and no hull.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And, indeed, when the large top-sails and big jibs came to be set, it
+certainly seemed as if there was nothing below to steady this vast
+extent of canvas. Macleod was astonished. He could not believe that
+people were so reckless as to go out in boats like that.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If they were up in our part of the world,&quot; said he, &quot;a puff of wind
+from the Gribun Cliffs would send the whole fleet to the bottom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They know better than to try,&quot; Colonel Ross said, &quot;Those yachts are
+admirably suited for the Thames; and Thames yachting is a very nice
+thing. It is very close to London. You can take a day's fresh air when
+you like, without going all the way to Cowes. You can get back to town
+in time to dine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope so,&quot; said Miss White, with emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you need not be afraid,&quot; her host said, laughing. &quot;They only go
+round the Nore; and with this steady breeze they ought to be back early
+in the afternoon. My dear Miss White, we sha'n't allow you to disappoint
+the British public.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So I may abandon myself to complete idleness without concern?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Most certainly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And it was an enjoyable sort of idleness. The river was full of life and
+animation as they glided along; fitful shadows and bursts of sunshine
+crossed the foliage and pasture-lands of the flat shores; the yellow
+surface of the stream was broken with gleams of silver; and always, when
+this somewhat tame, and peaceful, and pretty landscape tended to become
+monotonous, they had on this side or that the spectacle of one of those
+tall and beautiful yachts rounding on a new tack or creeping steadily up
+on one of her opponents. They had a sweepstakes, of course, and Macleod
+drew the favorite. But then he proceeded to explain to Miss White that
+the handicapping by means of time allowances made the choice of a
+favorite a mere matter of guesswork; that the fouling at <a name="Page_50" id="Page_50" />the start was
+of but little moment: and that on the whole she ought to exchange yachts
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But if the chances are all equal, why should your yacht be better than
+mine?&quot; said she.</p>
+
+<p>The argument was unanswerable; but she took the favorite for all that,
+because he wished her to do so; and she tendered him in return the bit
+of folded paper with the name of a rival yacht on it. It had been in her
+purse for a minute or two. It was scented when she handed it to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should like to go to the
+ <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Medditerranean'">Mediterranean</ins>
+in one of those beautiful
+yachts,&quot; she said, looking away across the troubled waters, &quot;and lie and
+dream under the blue skies. I should want no other occupation than that:
+that would be real idleness, with a breath of wind now and then to
+temper the heat; and an awning over the deck; and a lot of books. Life
+would go by like a dream.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes were distant and pensive. To fold the bits of paper, she had
+taken off her gloves: he regarded the small white hands, with the blue
+veins and the pink, almond-shaped nails. She was right. That was the
+proper sort of existence for one so fine and pale, and perfect even to
+the finger-tips. Rose Leaf&mdash;Rose Leaf&mdash;what faint wind will carry you
+away to the south?</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the band struck up a lively air. What was it?</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;O this is no my ain lassie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Fair though the lassie be.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&quot;You are in great favor, to-day, Hugh,&quot; Mrs. Ross said to her husband.
+&quot;You will have to ask the band-master to lunch with us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But this sharp <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'alterative'">alternative</ins> of a well-known air had sent Macleod's
+thoughts flying away northward, to scenes far different from these flat
+shores, and to a sort of boating very different from this summer
+sailing. Janet, too: what was she thinking of&mdash;far away in Castle Dare?
+Of the wild morning on which she insisted on crossing to one of the
+Freshnist islands, because of the sick child of a shepherd there; and of
+the open herring smack, and she sitting on the ballast stones; and of
+the fierce gale of wind and rain that hid the island from their sight;
+and of her landing, drenched to the skin, and with the salt-water
+running from her hair and down her face?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now for lunch,&quot; said Colonel Ross; and they went below.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51" />The bright little saloon was decorated with flowers; the colored glass
+on the table looked pretty enough; here was a pleasant break in the
+monotony of the day. It was an occasion, too, for assiduous helpfulness,
+and gentle inquiries, and patient attention. They forgot about the
+various chances of the yachts. They could not at once have remembered
+the name of the favorite. And there was a good deal of laughter and
+pleasant chatting, while the band overhead&mdash;heard through the open
+skylight&mdash;still played,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;O this is no my ain lassie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Kind though the lassie be.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And behold! when they went up on deck again they had got ahead of all
+the yachts, and were past the forts at the mouth of the Medway, and were
+out on an open space of yellowish-green water that showed where the tide
+of the sea met the current of the river. And away down there in the
+south, a long spur of land ran out at the horizon, and the sea
+immediately under was still and glassy, so that the neck of land seemed
+projected into the sky&mdash;a sort of gigantic razor-fish suspended in the
+silvery clouds. Then, to give the yachts time to overtake them, they
+steamed over to a mighty ironclad that lay at anchor there; and as they
+came near her vast black bulk they lowered their flag, and the band
+played &quot;Rule, Britannia.&quot; The salute was returned; the officer on the
+high quarterdeck raised his cap; they steamed on.</p>
+
+<p>In due course of time they reached the Nore lightship, and there they
+lay and drifted about until the yachts should come up. Long distances
+now separated that summer fleet; but as they came along, lying well over
+before the brisk breeze, it was obvious that the spaces of time between
+the combatants Would not be great. And is not this Miss White's vessel,
+the favorite in the betting, that comes sheering through the water, with
+white foam at her bows? Surely she is more than her time allowance
+ahead? And on this tack will she get clear round the ruddy little
+lightship, or is there not a danger of her carrying off a bowsprit? With
+what an ease and majesty she comes along, scarcely dipping to the slight
+summer waves, while they on board notice that she has put out her long
+spinnaker boom, ready to hoist a great ballooner as soon as she is round
+the lightship and running home before the wind. The speed at which she
+cuts the water is now visible enough as she obscures for a second or so
+the <a name="Page_52" id="Page_52" />hull of the lightship. In another second she has sheered round; and
+then the great spinnaker bulges out with the breeze, and away she goes
+up the river again. Chronometers are in request. It is only a matter of
+fifty seconds that the nearest rival, now coming sweeping along, has to
+make up. But what is this that happens just as the enemy has got round
+the Nore? There is a cry of &quot;Man overboard!&quot; The spinnaker boom has
+caught the careless skipper and pitched him clean into the plashing
+waters, where he floats about, not as yet certain, probably, what course
+his vessel will take. She at once brings her head up to wind and puts
+about; but meanwhile a small boat from the lightship has picked up the
+unhappy skipper, and is now pulling hard to strike the course of the
+yacht on her new tack. In another minute or two he is on board again;
+and away she goes for home.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you have won the sweepstakes, Miss White,&quot; Macleod said. &quot;Your
+enemy has lost eight minutes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She was not thinking of sweepstakes. She seemed to have been greatly
+frightened by the accident.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It would have been so dreadful to see a man drowned before your
+eyes&mdash;in the midst of a mere holiday excursion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Drowned?&quot; he cried. &quot;There? If a sailor lets himself get drowned in
+this water, with all these boats about, he deserves it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But there are many sailors who cannot swim at all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;More shame for them,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, Sir Keith,&quot; said Mrs. Ross, laughing, &quot;do you think that all
+people have been brought up to an amphibious life like yourself? I
+suppose in your country, what with the rain and the mist, you seldom
+know whether you are on sea or shore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is quite true,&quot; said he, gravely. &quot;And the children are all born
+with fins. And we can hear the mermaids singing all day long. And when
+we want to go anywhere, we get on the back of a dolphin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But he looked at Gertrude White. What would she say about that far land
+that she had shown such a deep interest in? There was no raillery at all
+in her low voice as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can very well understand,&quot; she said, &quot;how the people there fancied
+they heard the mermaids singing&mdash;amidst so much mystery, and with the
+awfulness of the sea around them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But we have had living singers,&quot; said Macleod, &quot;and that among the
+Macleods, too. The most famous of all the <a name="Page_53" id="Page_53" />song-writers of the Western
+Highlands was Mary Macleod, that was born in Harris&mdash;Mairi Nighean
+Alasdair ruaidh, they called her, that is, Mary, the daughter of Red
+Alister. Macleod of Dunvegan, he wished her not to make any more songs;
+but she could not cease the making of songs. And there was another
+Macleod&mdash;Fionaghal, they called her, that is the Fair Stranger. I do not
+know why they called her the Fair Stranger&mdash;perhaps she came to the
+Highlands from some distant place. And I think if you were going among
+the people there at this very day, they would call you the Fair
+Stranger.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke quite naturally and thoughtlessly: his eyes met hers only for a
+second; he did not notice the soft touch of pink that suffused the
+delicately tinted cheek.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What did you say was the name of that mysterious stranger?&quot; asked Mrs.
+Ross&mdash;&quot;that poetess from unknown lands?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fionaghal,&quot; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>She turned to her husband.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hugh,&quot; she said, &quot;let me introduce you to our mysterious guest. This is
+Fionaghal&mdash;this is the Fair Stranger from the islands&mdash;this is the
+poetess whose melodies the mermaids have picked up. If she only had a
+harp, now&mdash;with sea-weed hanging from it&mdash;and an oval mirror&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The booming of a gun told them that the last yacht had rounded the
+lightship. The band struck up a lively air, and presently the steamer
+was steaming off in the wake of the procession of yachts. There was now
+no more fear that Miss White should be late. The breeze had kept up
+well, and had now shifted a point to the east, so that the yachts, with
+their great ballooners, were running pretty well before the wind. The
+lazy abandonment of the day became more complete than ever. Careless
+talk and laughter; an easy curiosity about the fortunes of the race; tea
+in the saloon, with the making up of two bouquets of white roses,
+sweet-peas, fuchias, and ferns&mdash;the day passed lightly and swiftly
+enough. It was a summer day, full of pretty trifles. Macleod,
+surrendering to the fascination, began to wonder what life would be if
+it were all a show of June colors and a sound of dreamy music: for one
+thing, he could not imagine this sensitive, beautiful, pale, fine
+creature otherwise than as surrounded by an atmosphere of delicate
+attentions and pretty speeches, and sweet, low laughter.</p>
+
+<p>They got into their special train again at Gravesend, and <a name="Page_54" id="Page_54" />were whirled
+up to London. At Charing Cross he bade good-bye to Miss White, who was
+driven off by Mr. and Mrs. Ross along with their other guest. In the
+light of the clear June evening he walked rather absently up to his
+rooms.</p>
+
+<p>There was a letter lying on the table. He seized it and opened it with
+gladness. It was from his cousin Janet, and the mere sight of it seemed
+to revive him like a gust of keen wind from the sea. What had she to
+say? About the grumbling of Donald, who seemed to have no more pride in
+his pipes, now the master was gone? About the anxiety of his mother over
+the reports of the keepers? About the upsetting of a dog-cart on the
+road to Lochbuy? He had half resolved to go to the theatre again that
+evening&mdash;getting, if possible, into some corner where he might pursue
+his profound pyschological investigations unseen&mdash;but now he thought he
+would not go. He would spend the evening in writing a long letter to his
+cousin, telling her and the mother about all the beautiful, fine, gay,
+summer life he had seen in London&mdash;so different from anything they could
+have seen in Fort William, or Inverness, or even in Edinburgh. After
+dinner he sat down to this agreeable task. What had he to write about
+except brilliant rooms, and beautiful flowers, and costumes such as
+would have made Janet's eyes wide&mdash;of all the delicate luxuries of life,
+and happy idleness, and the careless enjoyment of people whose only
+thought was about a new pleasure? He gave a minute description of all
+the places he had been to see&mdash;except the theatre. He mentioned the
+names of the people who had been kind to him; but he said nothing about
+Gertrude White.</p>
+
+<p>Not that she was altogether absent from his thoughts. Sometimes his
+fancy fled away from the sheet of paper before him, and saw strange
+things. Was this Fionaghal the Fair Stranger&mdash;this maiden who had come
+over the seas to the dark shores of the isles&mdash;this king's daughter clad
+in white, with her yellow hair down to her waist and bands of gold on
+her wrists? And what does she sing to the lashing waves but songs of
+high courage, and triumph, and welcome to her brave lover coming home
+with plunder through the battling seas? Her lips are parted with her
+singing, but her glance is bold and keen: she has the spirit of a king's
+daughter, let her come from whence she may.</p>
+
+<p>Or is Fionaghal the Fair Stranger this poorly dressed lass who boils the
+potatoes over the rude peat fire, and croons her songs of suffering and
+of the cruel drowning in the seas, <a name="Page_55" id="Page_55" />so that from hut to hut they carry
+her songs, and the old wives' tears start afresh to think of their brave
+sons lost years and years ago?</p>
+
+<p>Neither Fionaghal is she&mdash;this beautiful, pale woman, with her sweet,
+modern English speech, and her delicate, sensitive ways, and her hand
+that might be crushed like a rose leaf. There is a shimmer of summer
+around her; flowers lie in her lap; tender observances encompass and
+shelter her. Not for her the biting winds of the northern seas; but
+rather the soft luxurious idleness of placid waters, and blue skies, and
+shadowy shores ... <i>Rose Leaf! Rose Leaf! what faint wind will carry you
+away to the south?</i></p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII" />CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Late one night a carefully dressed elderly gentleman applied his
+latch-key to the door of a house in Bury Street, St. James's, and was
+about to enter without any great circumspection, when he was suddenly
+met by a white phantom, which threw him off his legs, and dashed outward
+into the street. The language that the elderly gentleman used, as he
+picked himself up, need not be repeated here. Suffice it to say that the
+white phantom was the dog Oscar, who had been shut in a minute before by
+his master, and who now, after one or two preliminary dashes up and down
+the street, very soon perceived the tall figure of Macleod, and made
+joyfully after him. But Oscar knew that he had acted wrongly, and was
+ashamed to show himself; so he quietly slunk along at his master's
+heels. The consequence of this was that the few loiterers about beheld
+the very unusual spectacle of a tall young gentleman walking down Bury
+Street and into King Street, dressed in full Highland costume, and
+followed by a white-and-lemon collie. No other person going to the
+Caledonian fancy-dress ball was so attended.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod made his way through the carriages, crossed the Pavement, and
+entered the passage. Then he heard some scuffling behind, and he turned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let alone my dog, you fellow!&quot; said he, making a step <a name="Page_56" id="Page_56" />forward, for the
+man had got hold of Oscar by the head, and was hauling him out.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it your dog, sir?&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>Oscar himself answered by wrestling himself free and taking refuge by
+his master's legs, though he still looked guilty.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, he is my dog; and a nice fix he has got me into,&quot; said Macleod,
+standing aside to let the Empress Maria Theresa pass by in her
+resplendent costume. &quot;I suppose I must walk home with him again. Oscar,
+Oscar, how dare you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you please, sir,&quot; said a juvenile voice behind him, &quot;if Mr. &mdash;&mdash;
+will let me, I will take the dog. I know where to tie him up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod turned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Co an so?</i>&quot; said he, looking down at the chubby-faced boy in the
+kilts, who had his pipes under his arm. &quot;Don't you know the Gaelic?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am only learning,&quot; said the young musician. &quot;Will I take the dog,
+sir?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;March along, then, Phiobaire bhig!&quot; Macleod said. &quot;He will follow me,
+if he will not follow you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Little Piper turned aside into a large hall which had been transformed
+into a sort of waiting-room; and here Macleod found himself in the
+presence of a considerable number of children, half of them girls, half
+of them boys, all dressed in tartan, and seated on the forms along the
+walls. The children, who were half asleep at this time of the night,
+woke up with sudden interest at sight of the beautiful collie; and at
+the same moment Little Piper explained to the gentleman who was in
+charge of these young ones that the dog had to be tied up somewhere, and
+that a small adjoining room would answer that purpose. The proposal was
+most courteously entertained. Macleod, Mr. &mdash;&mdash;, and Little Piper walked
+along to this side room, and there Oscar was properly secured.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I will get him some water, sir, if he wants it,&quot; said the boy in
+the kilts.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well,&quot; Macleod said. &quot;And I will give you my thanks for it; for
+that is all that a Highlander, and especially a piper, expects for a
+kindness. And I hope you will learn the Gaelic soon, my boy. And do you
+know 'Cumhadh na Cloinne?' No, it is too difficult for you; but I think
+if I had the chanter between my fingers myself, I could let you hear
+'Cumhadh na Cloinne.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_57" id="Page_57" />I am sure John Maclean can play it,&quot; said the small piper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who is he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The gentleman in charge of the youngsters explained that John Maclean
+was the eldest of the juvenile pipers, five others of whom were in
+attendance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think,&quot; said Macleod, &quot;that I am coming down in a little time to make
+the acquaintance of your young pipers, if you will let me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He passed up the broad staircase and into the empty supper-room, from
+which a number of entrances showed him the strange scene being enacted
+in the larger hall. Who were these people who were moving to the sound
+of rapid music? A clown in a silken dress of many colors, with bells to
+his cap and wrists, stood at one of the doors. Macleod became his
+fellow-spectator of what was going forward. A beautiful Tyrolienne, in a
+dress of black, silver, and velvet, with her yellow hair hanging in two
+plaits down her back, passed into the room, accompanied by Charles the
+First in a large wig and cloak; and the next moment they were whirling
+along in the waltz, coming into innumerable collisions with all the
+celebrated folk who ever lived in history. And who were these gentlemen
+in the scarlet collars and cuffs, who but for these adornments would
+have been in ordinary evening dress? he made bold to ask the friendly
+clown, who was staring in a pensive manner at the rushing couples.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They call it the Windsor uniform,&quot; said the clown. &quot;<i>I</i> think it mean.
+I sha'n't come in a fancy dress again, if stitching on a red collar will
+do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the waltz came to an end, and the people began to walk up
+and down the spacious apartment. Macleod entered the throng to look
+about him. And soon he perceived, in one of the little stands at the
+side of the hall, the noble lady who had asked him to go to this
+assembly, and forthwith he made his way through the crowd to her. He was
+most graciously received.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall I tell you a secret, Lady &mdash;&mdash;?&quot; said he. &quot;You know the children
+belonging to the charity; they are all below, and they are sitting doing
+nothing, and they are all very tired and half asleep. It is a shame to
+keep them there&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But the Prince hasn't come yet; and they must be marched round: they
+show that we are not making fools of ourselves for nothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A sharper person than Macleod might have got in a pretty <a name="Page_58" id="Page_58" />compliment
+here: for this lady was charmingly dressed as Flora Macdonald; but he
+merely said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well; perhaps it is necessary. But I think I can get them some
+amusement, if you will only keep the director of them, that is, Mr.
+&mdash;&mdash;, out of the way. Now shall I send him to you? Will you talk to
+him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you mean to do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want to give them a dance. Why should you have all the dancing up
+here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mind, I am not responsible. What shall I talk to him about?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod considered for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tell him that I will take the whole of the girls and boys to the
+Crystal Palace for a day, if it is permissable; and ask him what it will
+cost, and all about the arrangements.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Seriously?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes. Why not? They can have a fine run in the grounds, and six pipers
+to play for them. I will ask them now whether they will go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He left and went downstairs. He had seen but few people in the hall
+above whom he knew. He was not fond of dancing, though he knew the
+elaborate variations of the reel. And here was a bit of practical
+amusement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Mr. &mdash;&mdash;,&quot; said he, with great seriousness, &quot;I am desired by Lady
+&mdash;&mdash; to say that she would like to see you for a moment or two. She
+wishes to ask you some questions about your young people.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Prince may come at any moment,&quot; said Mr. &mdash;&mdash; doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He won't be in such a hurry as all that, surely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So the worthy man went upstairs; and the moment he was gone Macleod shut
+the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, you piper boys!&quot; he called aloud, &quot;get up and play us a reel. We
+are going to have a dance. You are all asleep, I believe. Come, girls
+stand up. You that know the reel, you will keep to this end. Boys, come
+out. You that can dance a reel, come to this end; the others will soon
+pick it up. Now, piper boys, have you got the steam up? What can you
+give us, now? 'Monymusk?' or the 'Marquis of Huntley's Fling?' or 'Miss
+Johnston?' Nay, stay a bit. Don't you know 'Mrs. Macleod of Raasay?'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; &quot;Yes,&quot; &quot;Yes,&quot; &quot;Yes,&quot; &quot;Yes,&quot; &quot;Yes,&quot; came from the six pipers, all
+standing in a row, with the drones over their shoulders and the chanters
+in their fingers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_59" id="Page_59" />Very well, then&mdash;off you go! Now, boys and girls, are all ready?
+Pipers, 'Mrs. Macleod of Raasay!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a second there was a confused roaring on the long drones; then the
+shrill chanters broke clear away into the wild reel; and presently the
+boys and girls, who were at first laughingly shy and embarrassed, began
+to make such imitations of the reel figure, which they had seen often
+enough, as led to a vast amount of scrambling and jollity, if it was not
+particularly accurate. The most timid of the young ones soon picked up
+courage. Here and there one of the older boys gave a whoop that would
+have done justice to a wedding dance in a Highland barn.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Put your lungs into it, pipers!&quot; Macleod cried out, &quot;Well played, boys!
+You are fit to play before a prince?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The round cheeks of the boys were red with their blowing; they tapped
+their toes on the ground as proudly as if every one of them was a
+MacCruimin; the wild noise in this big, empty hall grew more furious
+than ever&mdash;when suddenly there was an awful silence. The pipers whipped
+the chanters from their mouths; the children, suddenly stopping in their
+merriment, cast one awestruck glance at the door, and then slunk back to
+their seats. They had observed not only Mr. &mdash;&mdash;, but also the Prince
+himself. Macleod was left standing alone in the middle of the floor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir Keith Macleod?&quot; said his Royal Highness, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod bowed low.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lady &mdash;&mdash; told me what you were about. I thought we could have had a
+peep unobserved, or we should not have broken in on the romp of the
+children.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think your Royal Highness could make amends for that,&quot; said Macleod.</p>
+
+<p>There was an inquiring glance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If your Royal Highness would ask some one to see that each of the
+children has an orange, and a tart, and a shilling, it would be some
+compensation to them for being kept up so late.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think that might be done,&quot; said the Prince, as he turned to leave.
+&quot;And I am glad to have made your acquaintance, although in&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In the character of a dancing-master,&quot; said Macleod, gravely.</p>
+
+<p>After having once more visited Oscar, in the company of Phiobaire bhig,
+Macleod went up again to the brilliantly lit <a name="Page_60" id="Page_60" />hall; and here he found
+that a further number of his friends had arrived. Among them was young
+Ogilvie, in the tartan of the Ninety-third Highlanders; and very smart
+indeed the boy-officer looked in his uniform. Mrs. Ross was here too and
+she was busy in assisting to get up the Highland quadrille. When she
+asked Macleod if he would join in it, he answered by asking her to be
+his partner, as he would be ashamed to display his ignorance before an
+absolute stranger. Mrs. Ross most kindly undertook to pilot him through
+the not elaborate intricacies of the dance; and they were fortunate in
+having the set made up entirely of their own friends.</p>
+
+<p>Then the procession of the children took place; and the fantastically
+dressed crowd formed a lane to let the homely-clad lads and lasses pass
+along, with the six small pipers proudly playing a march at their head.</p>
+
+<p>He stopped the last of the children for a second.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you got a tart, and an orange, and a shilling?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have got the word of a prince for it,&quot; he said to himself, as he went
+out of the room; &quot;and they shall not go home with empty pockets.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he was coming up the staircase again to the ball-room he was preceded
+by two figures that were calculated to attract any one's notice by the
+picturesqueness of their costume. The one stranger was apparently an old
+man, who was dressed in a Florentine costume of the fourteenth
+century&mdash;a cloak of sombre red, with a flat cap of black velvet, one
+long tail of which was thrown over the left shoulder and hung down
+behind. A silver collar hung from his neck across his breast: other
+ornament there was none. His companion, however, drew all eyes toward
+her as the two passed into the ball-room. She was dressed in imitation
+of Gainsborough's portrait of the Duchess of Devonshire; and her
+symmetrical figure and well-poised head admirably suited the long
+trained costume of blue satin, with its <i>fichu</i> of white muslin, the
+bold coquettish hat and feathers, and the powdered puffs and curls that
+descended to her shoulders. She had a gay air with her, too. She bore
+her head proudly. The patches on her cheek seemed not half so black as
+the blackness of her eyes, so full of a dark mischievous light were
+they; and the redness of the lips&mdash;a trifle artificial, no doubt&mdash;as she
+smiled seemed to add to the glittering whiteness of her teeth. The
+proud, <a name="Page_61" id="Page_61" />laughing, gay coquette: no wonder all eyes were for a moment
+turned to her, in envy or in admiration.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod, following these two, and finding that his old companion, the
+pensive clown in cap and bells, was still at his post of observation at
+the door, remained there also for a minute or two, and noticed that
+among the first to recognize the two strangers was young Ogilvie, who
+with laughing surprise in his face, came forward to shake hands with
+them. Then there was some further speech; the band began to play a
+gentle and melodious waltz; the middle of the room cleared somewhat; and
+presently her Grace of Devonshire was whirled away by the young Highland
+officer, her broad-brimmed hat rather overshadowing him, notwithstanding
+the pronounced colors of his plaid. Macleod could not help following
+this couple with his eyes whithersoever they went. In any part of the
+rapidly moving crowd he could always make out that one figure; and once
+or twice as they passed him it seemed to him that the brilliant beauty,
+with her powdered hair, and her flashing bright eyes, and her merry
+lips, regarded him for an instant; and then he could have imagined that
+in a by-gone century&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir Keith Macleod, I think?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old gentleman with the grave and scholarly cap of black velvet and
+the long cloak of sober red held out his hand. The folds of the velvet
+hanging down from the cap rather shadowed his face; but all the same
+Macleod instantly recognized him&mdash;fixing the recognition by means of the
+gold spectacles.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. White?&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am more disguised than you are,&quot; the old gentleman said, with a
+smile. &quot;It is a foolish notion of my daughter's; but she would have me
+come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His daughter! Macleod turned in a bewildered way to that gay crowd under
+the brilliant lights.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Was that Miss White?&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Duchess of Devonshire. Didn't you recognize her? I am afraid she
+will be very tired to-morrow; but she would come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He caught sight of her again&mdash;that woman, with the dark eyes full of
+fire, and the dashing air, and the audacious smile! He could have
+believed this old man to be mad. Or was he only the father of a witch,
+of an illusive <i>ignis fatuus</i>, of some mocking Ariel darting into a
+dozen shapes to make fools of the poor simple souls of earth?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_62" id="Page_62" />No,&quot; he stammered, &quot;I&mdash;I did not recognize her. I thought the lady who
+came with you had intensely dark eyes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is said to be very clever in making up,&quot; her father said, coolly
+and sententiously. &quot;It is a part of her art that is not to be despised.
+It is quite as important as a gesture or a tone of voice in creating the
+illusion at which she aims. I do not know whether actresses, as a rule,
+are careless about it, or only clumsy; but they rarely succeed in making
+their appearance homogeneous. A trifle too much here, a trifle too
+little there, and the illusion is spoiled. Then you see a painted
+woman&mdash;not the character she is presenting. Did you observe my
+daughter's eyebrows?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, sir, I did not,&quot; said Macleod, humbly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here she comes. Look at them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But how could he look at her eyebrows, or at any trick of making up,
+when the whole face, with its new excitement of color, its parted lips
+and lambent eyes, was throwing its fascination upon him? She came
+forward laughing, and yet with a certain shyness. He would fain have
+turned away.</p>
+
+<p>The Highlanders are superstitious. Did he fear being bewitched? Or what
+was it that threw a certain coldness over his manner? The fact of her
+having danced with young Ogilvie? Or the ugly reference made by her
+father to her eyebrows? He had greatly admired this painted stranger
+when he thought she was a stranger; he seemed less to admire the
+artistic make-up of Miss Gertrude White.</p>
+
+<p>The merry Duchess, playing her part admirably, charmed all eyes but his;
+and yet she was so kind as to devote herself to her father and him,
+refusing invitations to dance, and chatting to them&mdash;with those
+brilliant lips smiling&mdash;about the various features of the gay scene
+before them. Macleod avoided looking at her face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What a bonny boy your friend Mr. Ogilvie is!&quot; said she, glancing across
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>He did not answer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But he does not look much of a soldier,&quot; she continued. &quot;I don't think
+I should be afraid of him if I were a man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He answered, somewhat distantly:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is not safe to judge that way, especially of any one of Highland
+blood. If there is fighting in his blood, he will fight when the proper
+time comes. And we have a good Gaelic saying&mdash;it has a great deal of
+meaning in it, that saying&mdash;'<i>You do not know what sword is in the
+scabbard until it is drawn.</i>'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_63" id="Page_63" />What did you say was the proverb?&quot; she asked; and for second her eyes
+met his; but she immediately withdrew them startled by the cold
+austerity of his look.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'<i>You do not know what sword is in the scabbard until it is drawn</i>,'&quot;
+said he, carelessly. &quot;There is a good deal of meaning in it.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII" />CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>LAUREL COTTAGE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>A small, quaint, old-fashioned house in South Bank, Regent's Park; two
+maidens in white in the open veranda; around them the abundant foliage
+of June, unruffled by any breeze; and down at the foot of the steep
+garden the still canal, its surface mirroring the soft translucent
+greens of the trees and bushes above, and the gaudier colors of a barge
+lying moored on the northern side. The elder of the two girls is seated
+in a rocking-chair; she appears to have been reading, for her right
+hand, hanging down, still holds a thin MS. book covered with coarse
+brown paper. The younger is lying at her feet, with her head thrown back
+in her sister's lap, and her face turned up to the clear June skies.
+There are some roses about this veranda, and the still air is sweet with
+them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And of all the parts you ever played in,&quot; she says, &quot;which one did you
+like the best Gerty?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This one,&quot; is the gentle answer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What one?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Being at home with you and papa, and having no bother at all, and
+nothing to think of.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't believe it,&quot; says the other, with the brutal frankness of
+thirteen. &quot;You couldn't live without the theatre, Gerty&mdash;and the
+newspapers talking about you&mdash;and people praising you&mdash;and bouquets&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Couldn't I?&quot; says Miss White, with a smile, as she gently lays her hand
+on her sister's curls.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; continues the wise young lady. &quot;And besides, this pretty, quiet
+life would not last. You would have to give up playing that part. Papa
+is getting very old now; and he <a name="Page_64" id="Page_64" />often talks about what may happen to
+us. And you know, Gerty, that though it is very nice for sisters to say
+they will never and never leave each other, it doesn't come off, does
+it? There is only one thing I see for you&mdash;and that is to get married.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It is easy to fence with a child's prattle. She might have amused
+herself by encouraging this chatterbox to go through the list of their
+acquaintances, and pick out a goodly choice of suitors. She might have
+encouraged her to give expression to her profound views of the chances
+and troubles of life, and the safeguards that timid maidens may seek.
+But she suddenly said, in a highly matter-of-fact manner:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What you say is quite true, Carry, and I've thought of it several
+times. It is a very bad thing for an actress to be left without a father
+or husband, or brother, as her ostensible guardian. People are always
+glad to hear stories&mdash;and to make them&mdash;about actresses. You would be no
+good at all, Carry&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, then,&quot; the younger sister said, promptly, &quot;you've got to get
+married. And to a rich man, too; who will buy you a theatre, and let you
+do what you like in it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Gertrude White, whatever she may have thought of this speech, was
+bound to rebuke the shockingly mercenary ring in it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For shame, Carry! Do you think people marry from such motives as that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know,&quot; said Carry; but she had, at least, guessed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should like my husband to have money, certainly,&quot; Miss White said,
+frankly; and here she flung the MS. book from her on to a neighboring
+chair. &quot;I should like to be able to refuse parts that did not suit me. I
+should like to be able to take just such engagements as I chose. I
+should like to go to Paris for a whole year, and study hard&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your husband might not wish you to remain an actress,&quot; said Miss Carry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then he would never be my husband,&quot; the elder sister said, with
+decision. &quot;I have not worked hard for nothing. Just when I begin to
+think I can do something&mdash;when I think I can get beyond those
+coquettish, drawing-room, simpering parts that people run after
+now&mdash;just when the very name of Mrs. Siddons, or Rachael, or any of the
+great actresses makes my heart jump&mdash;when I have ambition and a <a name="Page_65" id="Page_65" />fair
+chance, and all that&mdash;do you think I am to give the whole thing up, and
+sink quietly into the position of Mrs. Brown or Mrs. Smith, who is a
+very nice lady, no doubt, and very respectable, and lives a quiet and
+orderly life, with no greater excitement than scheming to get big people
+to go to her garden parties?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She certainly seemed very clear on that point.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't see that men are so ready to give up their professions, when
+they marry, in order to devote themselves to domestic life, even when
+they have plenty of money. Why should all the sacrifice be on the side
+of the woman? But I know if I have to choose between my art and a
+husband, I shall continue to do without a husband.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Carry had risen, and put one arm round her sister's neck, while
+with the other she stroked the soft brown hair over the smooth forehead.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And it shall not be taken away from its pretty theatre, it sha'n't!&quot;
+said she, pettingly; &quot;and it shall not be asked to go away with any
+great ugly Bluebeard, and be shut up in a lonely house&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go away, Carry,&quot; said she, releasing herself. &quot;I wonder why you began
+talking such nonsense. What do you know about all those things?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh! very well,&quot; said the child, turning away with a pout; and she
+pulled a rose and began to take its petals off, one by one, with her
+lips. &quot;Perhaps I don't know. Perhaps I haven't studied your manoeuvres
+on the stage, Miss Gertrude White. Perhaps I never saw the newspapers
+declaring that it was all so very natural and life-like.&quot; She flung two
+or three rose petals at her sister. &quot;I believe you're the biggest flirt
+that ever lived, Gerty. You could make any man you liked marry you in
+ten minutes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish I could manage to have certain schoolgirls whipped and sent to
+bed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At this moment there appeared at the open French window an elderly woman
+of Flemish features and extraordinary breadth of bust.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall I put dressing in the salad, miss?&quot; she said, with scarcely any
+trace of foreign accent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not yet, Marie,&quot; said Miss White. &quot;I will make the dressing first.
+Bring me a large plate, and the cruet-stand, and a spoon and fork, and
+some salt.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now when these things had been brought, and when Miss White had sat
+about preparing this salad dressing in a highly <a name="Page_66" id="Page_66" />scientific manner, a
+strange thing occurred. Her sister seemed to have been attacked by a
+sudden fit of madness. She had caught up a light shawl, which she
+extended from hand to hand, as if she were dancing with some one, and
+then she proceeded to execute a slow waltz in this circumscribed space,
+humming the improvised music in a mystical and rhythmical manner. And
+what were these dark utterances that the inspired one gave forth, as she
+glanced from time to time at her sister and the plate?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Oh, a Highland lad my love was born&mdash;and the Lowland laws he held in
+scorn&mdash;</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Carry, don't make a fool of yourself!&quot; said the other flushing angrily.</p>
+
+<p>Carry flung her imaginary partner aside.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no use making any pretence,&quot; said she, sharply. &quot;You know
+quite well why you are making that salad dressing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you never see me make salad dressing before?&quot; said the other, quite
+as sharply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know it is simply because Sir Keith Macleod is coming to lunch. I
+forgot all about it. Oh, and that's why you had the clean curtains put
+up yesterday?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>What else had this precocious brain ferreted out?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, and that's why you bought papa a new necktie,&quot; continued the
+tormenter; and then she added, triumphantly, &quot;<i>But he hasn't put it on
+this morning, ha&mdash;Gerty?</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A calm and dignified silence is the best answer to the fiendishness of
+thirteen. Miss White went on with the making of the salad-dressing. She
+was considered very clever at it. Her father had taught her: but he
+never had the patience to carry out his own precepts. Besides, brute
+force is not wanted for the work: what you want is the self-denying
+assiduity and the dexterous light-handedness of a woman.</p>
+
+<p>A smart young maid-servant, very trimly dressed, made her appearance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir Keith Macleod, miss,&quot; said she.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Gerty, you're caught!&quot; muttered the fiend.</p>
+
+<p>But Miss White was equal to the occasion. The small white fingers plied
+the fork without a tremor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ask him to step this way, please,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>And then the subtle imagination of this demon of thirteen jumped to
+another conclusion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Gerty, you want to show him that you are a good housekeeper&mdash;that
+you can make salad&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67" />But the imp was silenced by the appearance of Macleod himself. He
+looked tall as he came through the small drawing-room. When he came out
+onto the balcony the languid air of the place seemed to acquire a fresh
+and brisk vitality: he had a bright smile and a resonant voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have taken the liberty of bringing you a little present, Miss
+White&mdash;no, it is a large present&mdash;that reached me this morning,&quot; said
+he. &quot;I want you to see one of our Highland salmon. He is a splendid
+fellow&mdash;twenty-six pounds four ounces, my landlady says. My cousin Janet
+sent him to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, but, Sir Keith, we cannot rob you,&quot; Miss White said, as she still
+demurely plied her fork. &quot;If there is any special virtue in a Highland
+salmon, it will be best appreciated by yourself, rather than by those
+who don't know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The fact is,&quot; said he, &quot;people are so kind to me that I scarcely ever
+am allowed to dine at my lodgings; and you know the salmon should be
+cooked at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Carry had been making a face behind his back to annoy her sister.
+She now came forward and said, with a charming innocence in her eyes:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think you can have it cooked for luncheon, Gerty, for that
+would look too much like bringing your tea in your pocket, and getting
+hot water for twopence. Wouldn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod turned and regarded this new-comer with an unmistakable &quot;Who is
+this?&quot;&mdash;&quot;<i>Co an so?</i>&quot;&mdash;in his air.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, that is my sister Carry, Sir Keith,&quot; said Miss White. &quot;I forgot you
+had not seen her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you do?&quot; said he, in a kindly way; and for a second he put his
+hand on the light curls as her father might have done. &quot;I suppose you
+like having holidays?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From that moment she became his deadly enemy. To be patted on the head,
+as if she were a child, an infant&mdash;and that in the presence of the
+sister whom she had just been lecturing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, thank you,&quot; said she, with a splendid dignity, as she proudly
+walked off. She went into the small lobby leading to the door. She
+called to the little maid-servant. She looked at a certain long bag made
+of matting which lay there, some bits of grass sticking out of one end.
+&quot;Jane, take this thing down to the cellar at once! The whole house
+smells of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Miss White had carried her salad dressing in <a name="Page_68" id="Page_68" />to Marie, and
+had gone out again to the veranda where Macleod was seated. He was
+charmed with the dreamy stillness and silence of the place, with the
+hanging foliage all around, and the colors in the steep gardens, and the
+still waters below.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't see how it is,&quot; said he, &quot;but you seem to have much more open
+houses here than we have. Our houses in the North look cold, and hard,
+and bare. We should laugh if we saw a place like this up with us; it
+seems to me a sort of a toy place out of a picture&mdash;from Switzerland or
+some such country. Here you are in the open air, with your own little
+world around you, and nobody to see you; you might live all your life
+here, and know nothing about the storm crossing the Atlantic, and the
+wars in Europe, if only you gave up the newspapers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, it is very pretty and quiet,&quot; said she, and the small fingers
+pulled to pieces one of the rose leaves that Carry had thrown at her.
+&quot;But you know one is never satisfied anywhere. If I were to tell you the
+longing I have to see the very places you describe as being so
+desolate&mdash;But perhaps papa will take me there some day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope so,&quot; said he; &quot;but I would not call them desolate. They are
+terrible at times, and they are lonely, and they make you think. But
+they are beautiful too, with a sort of splendid beauty and grandeur that
+goes very near making you miserable.... I cannot describe it. You will
+see for yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here a bell rang, and at the same moment Mr. White made his appearance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you do, Sir Keith? Luncheon is ready, my dear&mdash;luncheon is
+ready&mdash;luncheon is ready.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He kept muttering to himself as he led the way. They entered a small
+dining-room, and here, if Macleod had ever heard of actresses having
+little time to give to domestic affairs, he must have been struck by the
+exceeding neatness and brightness of everything on the table and around
+it. The snow-white cover; the brilliant glass and spoons; the carefully
+arranged, if tiny, bouquets; and the precision with which the smart
+little maiden-servant, the only attendant, waited&mdash;all these things
+showed a household well managed. Nay, this iced claret-cup&mdash;was it not
+of her own composition?&mdash;and a pleasanter beverage he had never drank.</p>
+
+<p>But she seemed to pay little attention to these matters, for she kept
+glancing at her father, who, as he addressed <a name="Page_69" id="Page_69" />Macleod from time to time,
+was obviously nervous and harassed about something. At last she said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Papa, what is the matter with you? Has anything gone wrong this
+morning?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, my dear child,&quot; said he, &quot;don't speak of it. It is my memory&mdash;I
+fear my memory is going. But we will not trouble our guest about it. I
+think you were saying, Sir Keith, that you had seen the latest additions
+to the National Gallery&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what is it, papa?&quot; his daughter insisted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear, my dear, I know I have the lines somewhere; and Lord &mdash;&mdash; says
+that the very first jug fired at the new pottery he is helping shall
+have these lines on it, and be kept for himself. I know I have both the
+Spanish original and the English translation somewhere; and all the
+morning I have been hunting and hunting&mdash;for only one line. I think I
+know the other three,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span >'Old wine to drink.<br /></span>
+<span >Old wrongs let sink,<br /></span>
+<span >&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; *<br /></span>
+<span >Old friends in need.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It is the third line that has escaped me&mdash;dear, dear me! I fear my brain
+is going.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I will hunt for it, papa,&quot; said she; &quot;I will get the lines for you.
+Don't you trouble.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, no, no, child,&quot; said he, with somewhat of a pompous air. &quot;You have
+this new character to study. You must not allow any trouble to disturb
+the serenity of your mind while you are so engaged. You must give your
+heart and soul to it, Gerty; you must forget yourself; you must abandon
+yourself to it, and let it grow up in your mind until the conception is
+so perfect that there are no traces of the manner of its production
+left.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He certainly was addressing his daughter, but somehow the formal phrases
+suggested that he was speaking for the benefit of the stranger. The prim
+old gentleman continued; &quot;That is the only way. Art demands absolute
+self-forgetfulness. You must give yourself to it in complete surrender.
+People may not know the difference; but the true artist seeks only to be
+true to himself. You produce the perfect flower; they are not to know of
+the anxious care&mdash;of the agony of tears, perhaps you have spent on it.
+But then your <a name="Page_70" id="Page_70" />whole mind must be given to it; there must be no
+distracting cares; I will look for the missing lines myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am quite sure, papa,&quot; said Miss Carry, spitefully, &quot;that she was far
+more anxious about these cutlets than about her new part this morning.
+She was half a dozen times to the kitchen. I didn't see her reading the
+book much.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The <i>res angust&aelig; domi</i>,&quot; said the father, sententiously, &quot;sometimes
+interfere, where people are not too well off. But that is necessary.
+What is not necessary is that Gerty should take my troubles over to
+herself, and disturb her formation of this new character, which ought to
+be growing up in her mind almost insensibly, until she herself will
+scarcely be aware how real it is. When she steps on to the stage she
+ought to be no more Gertrude White than you or I. The artist loses
+himself. He transfers his soul to his creation. His heart beats in
+another breast; he sees with other eyes. You will excuse me, Sir Keith,
+but I keep insisting on this point to my daughter. If she ever becomes a
+great artist, that will be the secret of her success. And she ought
+never to cease from cultivating the habit. She ought to be ready at any
+moment to project herself, as it were, into any character. She ought to
+practise so as to make of her own emotions an instrument that she can
+use at will. It is a great demand that art makes on the life of an
+artist. In fact, he ceases to live for himself. He becomes merely a
+medium. His most secret experiences are the property of the world at
+large, once they have been transfused and moulded by his personal
+skill.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so he continued talking, apparently for the instruction of his
+daughter, but also giving his guest clearly to understand that Miss
+Gertrude White was not as other women but rather as one set apart for
+the high and inexorable sacrifice demanded by art. At the end of his
+lecture he abruptly asked Macleod if he had followed him. Yes, he had
+followed him, but in rather a bewildered way. Or had he some confused
+sense of self-reproach, in that he had distracted the contemplation of
+this pale and beautiful artist, and sent her downstairs to look after
+cutlets?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It seems a little hard, sir,&quot; said Macleod to the old man, &quot;that an
+artist is not to have any life of his or her own at all; that he or she
+should become merely a&mdash;a&mdash;a sort of ten-minutes' emotionalist.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was not a bad phrase for a rude Highlander to have invented on the
+spur of the moment. But the fact was that <a name="Page_71" id="Page_71" />some little personal feeling
+stung him into the speech. He was prepared to resent this <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'tyrany'">tyranny</ins> of art.
+And if he now were to see some beautiful pale slave bound in these iron
+chains, and being exhibited for the amusement of an idle world, what
+would the fierce blood of the Macleods say to that debasement? He began
+to dislike this old man, with his cruel theories and his oracular
+speech. But he forbore to have further or any argument with him; for he
+remembered what the Highlanders call &quot;the advice of the bell of
+Scoon&quot;&mdash;&quot;<i>The thing that concerns you not meddle not with.</i>&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX" />CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE PRINCESS RIGHINN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The people who lived in this land of summer, and sunshine, and
+flowers&mdash;had they no cares at all? He went out into the garden with
+these two girls; and they were like two young fawns in their careless
+play. Miss Carry, indeed, seemed bent on tantalizing him by the manner
+in which she petted and teased and caressed her sister&mdash;scolding her,
+quarrelling with her, and kissing her all at once. The grave, gentle,
+forbearing manner in which the elder sister bore all this was beautiful
+to see. And then her sudden concern and pity when the wild Miss Carry
+had succeeded in scratching her finger with the thorn of a rose-bush! It
+was the tiniest of scratches: and all the blood that appeared was about
+the size of a pin-head. But Miss White must needs tear up her dainty
+little
+ <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'pocket-handerchief'">pocket-handkerchief</ins>,
+and bind that grievous wound, and condole
+with the poor victim as though she were suffering untold agonies. It was
+a pretty sort of idleness. It seemed to harmonize with this still,
+beautiful summer day, and the soft green foliage around, and the still
+air that was sweet with the scent of the flowers of the lime-trees. They
+say that the Gaelic word for the lower regions <i>ifrin</i>, is derived from
+<i>i bhuirn</i>, the island of incessant rain. To a Highlander, therefore
+must not this land of perpetual summer and sunshine have seemed to be
+heaven itself?</p>
+
+<p>And even the malicious Carry relented for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You said you were going to the Zoological Gardens,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_72" id="Page_72" />Yes,&quot; he answered, &quot;I am. I have seen everything I want to see in
+London but that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because Gerty and I might walk across the Park with you, and show you
+the way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I very much wish you would,&quot; said he, &quot;if you have nothing better to
+do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will see if papa does not want me,&quot; said Miss White, calmly. She
+might just as well be walking in Regent's Park as in this small garden.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the three of them set out.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am glad of any excuse,&quot; she said, with a smile, &quot;for throwing aside
+that new part. It seems to me insufferably stupid. It is very hard that
+you should be expected to make a character look natural when the words
+you have to speak are such as no human being would use in any
+circumstance whatever.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Oddly enough, he never heard her make even the slightest reference to
+her profession without experiencing a sharp twinge of annoyance. He did
+not stay to ask himself why this should be so. Ordinarily he simply made
+haste to change the subject.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then why should you take the part at all?&quot; said he, bluntly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Once you have given yourself up to a particular calling&mdash;you must
+accept its little annoyances,&quot; she said, frankly. &quot;I cannot have
+everything my own way. I have been very fortunate in other respects. I
+never had to go through the drudgery of the provinces, though they say
+that is the best school possible for an actress. And I am sure the money
+and the care papa has spent on my training&mdash;you see, he had no son to
+send to college. I think he is far more anxious about my succeeding than
+I am myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you have succeeded,&quot; said Macleod. It was, indeed, the least he
+could say, with all his dislike of the subject.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I do not call that success,&quot; said she, simply. &quot;That is merely
+pleasing people by showing them little scenes from their own
+drawing-rooms transferred to the stage. They like it because it is
+pretty and familiar. And people pretend to be very cynical at
+present&mdash;they like things with 'no nonsense about them;' and I suppose
+this son of comedy is the natural reaction from the rant of the
+melodrama. Still, if you happen to be ambitious&mdash;or perhaps it is mere
+vanity?&mdash;if you would like to try what is in you&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_73" id="Page_73" />Gerty wants to be a Mrs. Siddons: that's it,&quot; said Miss Carry,
+promptly.</p>
+
+<p>Talking to an actress about her profession, and not having a word of
+compliment to say? Instead, he praised the noble elms and chestnuts of
+the Park, the broad white lake, the flowers, the avenues. He was greatly
+interested by the whizzing by overhead of a brace of duck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you are very fond of animals?&quot; Miss White said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am indeed,&quot; said he, suddenly brightening up. &quot;And up at our place I
+give them all a chance. I don't allow a single weasel or hawk to be
+killed, though I have a great deal of trouble about it. But what is the
+result? I don't know whether there is such a thing as the balance of
+nature, or whether it is merely that the hawks and weasels and other
+vermin kill off the sickly birds: but I do know that we have less
+disease among our birds than I hear of anywhere else. I have sometimes
+shot a weasel, it is true, when I have run across him as he was hunting
+a rabbit&mdash;you cannot help doing that if you hear the rabbit squealing
+with fright long before the weasel is at him&mdash;but it is against my rule.
+I give them all a fair field and no favor. But there are two animals I
+put out of the list; I thought there was only one till this week&mdash;now
+there are two; and one of them I hate, the other I fear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fear?&quot; she said: the slight flash of surprise in her eyes was eloquent
+enough. But he did not notice it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said he, rather gloomily. &quot;I suppose it is superstition, or you
+may have it in your blood; but the horror I have of the eyes of a
+snake&mdash;I cannot tell you of it. Perhaps I was frightened when I was a
+child&mdash;I cannot remember; or perhaps it was the stories of the old
+women. The serpent is very mysterious to the people in the Highlands:
+they have stories of watersnakes in the lochs: and if you get a nest of
+seven adders with one white one, you boil the white one, and the man who
+drinks the broth knows all things in heaven and earth. In the Lewis they
+call the serpent <i>righinn</i>, that is, '<i>a princess;</i>' and they say that
+the serpent is a princess bewitched. But that is from fear&mdash;it is a
+compliment&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But surely there are no serpents to be afraid of in the Highlands?&quot;
+said Miss White. She was looking rather curiously at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said he, in the same gloomy way. &quot;The adders run away from you if
+you are walking through the heather. <a name="Page_74" id="Page_74" />If you tread on one, and he bites
+your boot, what then? He cannot hurt you. But suppose you are out after
+the deer, and you are crawling along the heather with your face to the
+ground, and all at once you see the two small eyes of an adder looking
+at you and close to you&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He shuddered slightly&mdash;perhaps it was only an expression of disgust.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have heard,&quot; he continued, &quot;that in parts of Islay they used to be so
+bad that the farmers would set fire to the heather in a circle, and as
+the heather burned in and in you could see the snakes and adders
+twisting and curling in a great ball. We have not many with us. But one
+day John Begg, that is the schoolmaster, went behind a rock to get a
+light for his pipe; and he put his head close to the rock to be out of
+the wind; and then he thought he stirred something with his cap; and the
+next moment the adder fell on to his shoulder, and bit him in the neck.
+He was half mad with the fright; but I think the adder must have bitten
+the cap first and expended its poison; for the schoolmaster was only ill
+for about two days, and then there was no more of it. But just think of
+it&mdash;an adder getting to your neck&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would rather not think of it,&quot; she said, quickly. &quot;What is the other
+animal&mdash;that you hate?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh!&quot; he said, lightly, &quot;that is a very different affair&mdash;that is a
+parrot that speaks. I was never shut up in the house with one till this
+week. My landlady's son brought her home one from the West Indies; and
+she put the cage in a window recess on my landing. At first it was a
+little amusing; but the constant yelp&mdash;it was too much for me. '<i>Pritty
+poal! pritty poal!</i>' I did not mind so much; but when the ugly brute,
+with its beady eyes and its black snout, used to yelp, '<i>Come and kiz
+me! come and kiz me!</i>' I grew to hate it. And in the morning, too, how
+was one to sleep? I used to open my door and fling a boot at it; but
+that only served for a time. It began again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you speak of it as having been there. What became of it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at her rather nervously&mdash;like a schoolboy&mdash;and laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall I tell you?&quot; he said, rather shamefacedly. &quot;The murder will be
+out sooner or later. It was this morning. I could stand it no longer. I
+had thrown both my boots at it; it was no use. I got up a third time,
+and went out. The window, that looks into a back yard, was open. Then I
+<a name="Page_75" id="Page_75" />opened the parrot's cage. But the fool of an animal did not know what I
+meant&mdash;or it was afraid&mdash;and so I caught him by the back of the neck and
+flung him out. I don't know anything more about him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Could he fly?&quot; said the big-eyed Carry, who had been quite interested
+in this tragic tale.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know,&quot; Macleod said, modestly. &quot;There was no use asking him.
+All he could say was, '<i>Come and kiz me;</i>' and I got tired of that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you have murdered him!&quot; said the elder sister in an awestricken
+voice; and she pretended to withdraw a bit from him. &quot;I don't believe in
+the Macleods having become civilized, peaceable people. I believe they
+would have no hesitation in murdering any one that was in their way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Miss White,&quot; said he, in protest, &quot;you must forget what I told you
+about the Macleods; and you must really believe they were no worse than
+the others of the same time. Now I was thinking of another story the
+other day, which I must tell you&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, pray, don't,&quot; she said, &quot;if it is one of those terrible legends&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I must tell you,&quot; said he, &quot;because it is about the Macdonalds; and
+I want to show you that we had not all the badness of those times. It
+was Donald Gorm Mor; and his nephew Hugh Macdonald, who was the heir to
+the chieftainship, he got a number of men to join him in a conspiracy to
+have his uncle murdered. The chief found it out, and forgave him. That
+was not like a Macleod,&quot; he admitted, &quot;for I never heard of a Macleod of
+those days forgiving anybody. But again Hugh Macdonald engaged in a
+conspiracy; and then Donald Gorm Mor thought he would put an end to the
+ <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'nansense'">nonsense</ins>.
+What did he do? He put his nephew into a deep and foul
+dungeon&mdash;so the story says&mdash;and left him without food or water for a
+whole day. Then there was salt beef lowered into the dungeon; and
+Macdonald he devoured the salt beef; for he was starving with hunger.
+Then they left him alone. But you can imagine the thirst of a man who
+has been eating salt beef, and who has had no water for a day or two. He
+was mad with thirst. Then they lowered a cup into the dungeon&mdash;you may
+imagine the eagerness with which the poor fellow saw it coming down to
+him&mdash;and how he caught it with both his hands. <i>But it was empty!</i> And
+so, having made a fool of him in that way, they left him to die of
+thirst That was the Macdonalds, Miss White, not the Macleods.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_76" id="Page_76" />Then I am glad of Culloden,&quot; said she, with decision, &quot;for destroying
+such a race of fiends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you must not say that,&quot; he protested, laughing. &quot;We should have
+become quiet and respectable folks without Culloden. Even without
+Culloden we should have had penny newspapers all the same; and tourist
+boats from Oban to Iona. Indeed, you won't find quieter folks anywhere
+than the Macdonalds and Macleods are now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know how far you are to be trusted,&quot; said she, pretending to
+look at him with some doubts.</p>
+
+<p>Now they reached the gate of the gardens.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do let us go in, Gerty,&quot; said Miss Carry. &quot;You know you always get
+hints for your dresses from the birds&mdash;you would never have thought of
+that flamingo pink and white if you had not been walking through here&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will go in for a while if you like, Carry,&quot; said she; and certainly
+Macleod was nothing loath.</p>
+
+<p>There were but few people in the Gardens on this afternoon, for all the
+world was up at the Eton and Harrow cricket-match at Lord's, and there
+was little visible of 'Arry and his pipe. Macleod began to show more
+than a school boy's delight over the wonders of this strange place. That
+he was exceedingly fond of animals&mdash;always barring the two he had
+mentioned&mdash;was soon abundantly shown. He talked to them as though the
+mute inquiring eyes could understand him thoroughly. When he came to
+animals with which he was familiar in the North, he seemed to be
+renewing acquaintance with old friends&mdash;like himself, they were
+strangers in a strange land.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah,&quot; said he to the splendid red deer, which was walking about the
+paddock with his velvety horns held proudly in the air, &quot;what part of
+the Highlands have you come from? And wouldn't you like now a canter
+down the dry bed of a stream on the side of Ben-an-Sloich?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The hind, with slow and gentle step, and with her nut-brown hide shining
+in the sun, came up to the bars, and regarded him with those large,
+clear, gray-green eyes&mdash;so different from the soft dark eyes of the
+roe&mdash;that had long eyelashes on the upper lid. He rubbed her nose.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And wouldn't you rather be up on the heather, munching the young grass
+and drinking out of the burn?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They went along to the great cage of the sea-eagles. The birds seemed to
+pay no heed to what was passing immediately around them. Ever and anon
+they jerked their <a name="Page_77" id="Page_77" />heads into an attitude of attention, and the golden
+brown eye with its contracted pupil and stern upper lid, seemed to be
+throwing a keen glance over the immeasurable leagues of sea.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor old chap!&quot; he said to one perched high on an old stump, &quot;wouldn't
+you like to have one sniff of a sea-breeze, and a look round for a
+sea-pyot or two? What do they give you here&mdash;dead fish, I suppose?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The eagle raised its great wings and slowly flapped them once or twice,
+while it uttered a succession of shrill <i>yawps</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes,&quot; he said, &quot;you could make yourself heard above the sound of the
+waves. And I think if any of the boys were after your eggs or your young
+ones, you could make short work of them with those big wings. Or would
+you like to have a battle-royal with a seal, and try whether you could
+pilot the seal in to the shore, or whether the seal would drag you and
+your fixed claws down to the bottom and drown you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a solitary kittiwake in a cage devoted to sea-birds, nearly
+all of which were foreigners.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You poor little kittiwake,&quot; said he, &quot;this is a sad place for you to be
+in. I think you would rather be out at Ru-Treshanish, even if it was
+blowing hard, and there was rain about. There was a dead whale came
+ashore there about a month ago; that would have been something like a
+feast for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why,&quot; said he, to his human companion, &quot;if I had only known before!
+Whenever there was an hour or two with nothing to do, here was plenty of
+occupation. But I must not keep you too long, Miss White. I could remain
+here days and weeks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will not go without looking in at the serpents,&quot; said she, with a
+slight smile.</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated for a second.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said he; &quot;I think I will not go in to see them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you must,&quot; said she, cruelly. &quot;You will see they are not such
+terrible creatures when they are shut up in glass boxes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He suffered himself to be led along to the reptile house; but he was
+silent. He entered the last of the three. He stood in the middle of the
+room, and looked around him in rather a strange way.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, come and look at this splendid fellow,&quot; said Miss White, who, with
+her sister, was leaning over the rail. &quot;Look <a name="Page_78" id="Page_78" />at his splendid bars of
+color! Do you see the beautiful blue sheen on its scales?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a huge anaconda, its body as thick as a man's leg, lying coiled
+up in a circle; its flat, ugly head reposing in the middle. He came a
+bit nearer. &quot;Hideous!&quot; was all he said. And then his eyes was fixed on
+the eyes of the animal&mdash;the lidless eyes, with their perpetual glassy
+stare. He had thought at first they were closed; but now he saw that
+that opaque yellow substance was covered by a glassy coating, while in
+the centre there was a small slit as if cut by a penknife. The great
+coils slowly expanded and fell again as the animal breathed; otherwise
+the fixed stare of those yellow eyes might have been taken for the stare
+of death.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think the anaconda is poisonous at all,&quot; said she, lightly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But if you were to meet that beast in a jungle,&quot; said he, &quot;what
+difference would that make!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke reproachfully, as if she were luring him into some secret place
+to have him slain with poisonous fangs. He passed on from that case to
+the others unwillingly. The room was still. Most of the snakes would
+have seemed dead but for the malign stare of the beaded eyes. He seemed
+anxious to get out; the atmosphere of the place was hot and oppressive.</p>
+
+<p>But just at the door there was a case some quick motion in which caught
+his eye, and despite himself he stopped to look. The inside of this
+glass box was alive with snakes&mdash;raising their heads in the air, slimily
+crawling over each other, the small black forked tongues shooting in and
+out, the black points of eyes glassily staring. And the object that had
+moved quickly was a wretched little yellow frog, that was not motionless
+in a dish of water, its eyes apparently starting out of its head with
+horror. A snake made its appearance over the edge of the dish. The
+shooting black tongue approached the head of the frog; and then the
+long, sinuous body glided along the edge of the dish again, the frog
+meanwhile being too paralyzed with fear to move. A second afterward the
+frog, apparently recovering, sprung clean out of the basin; but it was
+only to alight on the backs of two or three of the reptiles lying coiled
+up together. It made another spring, and got into a corner among some
+grass, But along that side of the case another of those small, flat,
+yellow marked heads was slowly creeping along, propelled by the
+squirming body; and again the frog made a sudden spring, <a name="Page_79" id="Page_79" />this time
+leaping once more into the shallow water, where, it stood and panted,
+with its eyes dilated. And now a snake that had crawled up the side of
+the case put out its long neck as if to see whither it should proceed.
+There was nothing to lay hold of. The head swayed and twisted, the
+forked tongue shooting out; and at last the snake fell away from its
+hold, and splashed right into the basin of water on the top of the frog.
+There was a wild shooting this way and that&mdash;but Macleod did not see the
+end of it. He had uttered some slight exclamation, and got into the open
+air, as one being suffocated: and there were drops of perspiration on
+his forehead, and a trembling of horror and disgust had seized him. His
+two companions followed him out.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I felt rather faint,&quot; said he, in a low voice&mdash;and he did not turn to
+look at them as he spoke&mdash;&quot;the air is close in that room.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They moved away. He looked around&mdash;at the beautiful green of the trees,
+and the blue sky, and the sunlight on the path&mdash;God's world was getting
+to be more wholesome again, and the choking sensation of disgust was
+going from his throat. He seemed, however, rather anxious to get away
+from this place. There was a gate close by; he proposed they should go
+out by that. As he walked back with them to South Bank, they chatted
+about many of the animals&mdash;the two girls in especial being much
+interested in certain pheasants, whose colors of plumage they thought
+would look very pretty in a dress&mdash;but he never referred, either then or
+at any future time, to his visit to the reptile house. Nor did it occur
+to Miss White, in this idle conversation, to ask him whether his
+Highland blood had inherited any other qualities besides that
+instinctive and deadly horror of serpents.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X" />CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<h3>LAST NIGHTS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Good-night, Macleod!&quot;&mdash;&quot;Good-night!&quot;&mdash;&quot;Good-night!&quot; The various voices
+came from the top of a drag. They were addressed to one of two young men
+who stood on the steps of the Star and Garter&mdash;black fingers in the
+blaze <a name="Page_80" id="Page_80" />of light. And now the people on the drag had finally ensconced
+themselves, and the ladies had drawn their ample cloaks more completely
+around their gay costumes, and the two grooms were ready to set free the
+heads of the leaders. &quot;Good-night, Macleod!&quot; Lord Beauregard called
+again; and then, with a little preliminary prancing of the leaders, away
+swung the big vehicle through the clear darkness of the sweet-scented
+summer night.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was awfully good-natured of Beauregard to bring six of your people
+down and take them back again,&quot; observed Lieutenant Ogilvie to his
+companion. &quot;He wouldn't do it for most folks. He wouldn't do it for me.
+But then you have the grand air, Macleod. You seem to be conferring a
+favor when you get one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The people have been very kind to me,&quot; said Macleod, simply. &quot;I do not
+know why. I wish I could take them all up to Castle Dare and entertain
+them as a prince could entertain people&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want to talk to you about that, Macleod,&quot; said his companion. &quot;Shall
+we go upstairs again? I have left my hat and coat there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They went upstairs, and entered a long chamber which had been formed by
+the throwing of two rooms into one. The one apartment had been used as a
+sort of withdrawing room; in the other stood the long banquet-table,
+still covered with bright-colored flowers, and dishes of fruit, and
+decanters and glasses. Ogilvie sat down, lit a cigar, and poured himself
+out some claret.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Macleod,&quot; said he, &quot;I am going to talk to you like a father. I hear you
+have been going on in a mad way. Surely you know that a batchelor coming
+up to London for a season, and being asked about by people who are
+precious glad to get unmarried men to their houses, is not expected to
+give these swell dinner parties? And then, it seems, you have been
+bringing down all your people in drags. What do those flowers cost you?
+I dare say this is Lafitte, now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if it is, why not drink it and say no more about it? I think they
+enjoyed themselves pretty well this evening&mdash;don't you, Ogilvie?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes; but then, my dear fellow, the cost! You will say it is none
+of my business; but what would your decent, respectable mother say to
+all this extravagance?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah?&quot; said Macleod, &quot;that is just the thing; I should have more pleasure
+in my little dinner parties if only the <a name="Page_81" id="Page_81" />mother and Janet were here to
+see. I think the table would look a good deal better if my mother was at
+the head of it. And the cost?&mdash;oh, I am only following out her
+instructions. She would not have people think that I was insensible to
+the kindness that has been shown me; and then we cannot ask all those
+good friends up to Castle Dare; it is an out-of-the-way place, and there
+are no flowers on the dining-table there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He laughed as he looked at the beautiful things before him; they would
+look strange in the gaunt hall of Castle Dare.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why,&quot; said he, &quot;I will tell you a secret, Ogilvie. You know my cousin
+Janet&mdash;she is the kindest-hearted of all the women I know&mdash;and when I
+was coming away she gave me &pound;2000, just in case I should need it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;&pound;2000!&quot; exclaimed Ogilvie. &quot;Did she think you were going to buy
+Westminster Abbey during the course of your holidays?&quot; And then he
+looked at the table before him, and a new idea seemed to strike him.
+&quot;You don't mean to say, Macleod, that it is your cousin's money&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod's face flushed angrily. Had any other man made the suggestion,
+he would have received a tolerably sharp answer. But he only said to his
+old friend Ogilvie,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, no, Ogilvie; we are not very rich folks; but we have not come to
+that yet. 'I'd sell my kilts, I'd sell my shoon,' as the song says,
+before I touched a farthing of Janet's money. But I had to take it from
+her so as not to offend her. It is wonderful, the anxiety and affection
+of women who live away out of the world like that. There was my mother,
+quite sure that something awful was going to happen to me, merely
+because I was going away for two or three months, And Janet&mdash;I suppose
+she knew that our family never was very good at saving money&mdash;she would
+have me take this little fortune of hers, just as if the old days were
+come back, and the son of the house was supposed to go to Paris to
+gamble away every penny.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way, Macleod,&quot; said Ogilvie, &quot;you have never gone to Paris, as
+you intended.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said he, trying to balance three nectarines one on the top of the
+other, &quot;I have not gone to Paris. I have made enough friends in London.
+I have had plenty to occupy the time. And now, Ogilvie,&quot; he added,
+brightly, &quot;I am going in for my last frolic, before everybody has left
+London, and you must come to it, even if you have to <a name="Page_82" id="Page_82" />go down by your
+cold-meat train again. You know Miss Rawlinson; you have seen her at
+Mrs. Ross's, no doubt. Very well; I met her first when we went down to
+the Thames yacht race, and afterwards we became great friends; and the
+dear little old lady already looks on me as if I were her son. And do
+you know what her proposal is? That she is to give me up her house and
+garden for a garden party, and I am to ask my friends; and it is to be a
+dance as well, for we shall ask the people to have supper at eight
+o'clock or so; and then we shall have a marquee&mdash;and the garden all
+lighted up&mdash;do you see? It is one of the largest gardens on Campden
+Hill; and the colored lamps hung on the trees will make it look very
+fine; and we shall have a band to play music for the dancers&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It will cost you &pound;200 or &pound;300 at least,&quot; said Ogilvie, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What then? You give your friends a pleasant evening, and you show them
+that you are not ungrateful,&quot; said Macleod.</p>
+
+<p>Ogilvie began to ponder over this matter. The stories he had heard of
+Macleod's extravagant entertainments were true, then. Suddenly he looked
+up and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is Miss White to be one of your guests?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope so,&quot; said he. &quot;The theatre will be closed at the end of this
+week.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you have been a good many times to the theatre.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To the Piccadilly Theatre?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have been only once to the Piccadilly Theatre&mdash;when you and I went
+together,&quot; said Macleod, coldly; and they spoke no more of that matter.</p>
+
+<p>By and by they thought they might as well smoke outside, and so they
+went down and out upon the high and walled terrace overlooking the broad
+valley of the Thames. And now the moon had arisen in the south, and the
+winding river showed a pale gray among the black woods, and there was a
+silvery light on the stone parapet on which they leaned their arms. The
+night was mild and soft and clear, there was an intense silence around,
+but they heard the faint sound of oars far away&mdash;some boating party
+getting home through the dark shadows of the river-side trees.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a beautiful life you have here in the south,&quot; Macleod said, after
+a time, &quot;though I can imagine that the women <a name="Page_83" id="Page_83" />enjoy it more than the
+men. It is natural for women to enjoy pretty colors, and flowers, and
+bright lights, and music; and I suppose it is the mild air that lets
+their eyes grow so big and clear. But the men&mdash;I should think they must
+get tired of doing nothing. They are rather melancholy, and their hands
+are white. I wonder they don't begin to hate Hyde Park, and kid gloves,
+and tight boots. Ogilvie,&quot; said he, suddenly, straightening himself up,
+&quot;what do you say to the 12th? A few breathers over Ben-an-Sloich would
+put new lungs into you. I don't think you look quite so limp as most of
+the London men; but still you are not up to the mark. And then an
+occasional run out to Coll or Tiree in that old tub of ours, with a
+brisk sou'-wester blowing across&mdash;that would put some mettle into you.
+Mind you, you won't have any grand banquets at Castle Dare. I think it
+is hard on the poor old mother that she should have all the pinching,
+and none of the squandering; but women seem to have rather a liking for
+these sacrifices, and both she and Janet are very proud of the family
+name; I believe they would live on sea-weed for a year if only their
+representative in London could take Buckingham Palace for the season.
+And Hamish&mdash;don't you remember Hamish?&mdash;he will give you a hearty
+welcome to Dare, and he will tell you the truth about any salmon or stag
+you may kill, though he was never known to come within five pounds of
+the real weight of any big salmon I ever caught. Now then, what do you
+say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, it is all very well,&quot; said Lieutenant Ogilvie. &quot;If we could all get
+what we want, there would scarcely be an officer in Aldershot Camp on
+the 12th of August. But I must say there are some capitally good fellows
+in our mess&mdash;and it isn't every one gets the chance you offer me&mdash;and
+there's none of the dog-in-the-manger feeling about them: in short. I do
+believe, Macleod, that I could get off for a week or so about the 20th.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The 20th? So be it. Then you will have the blackcock added in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When do you leave?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On the 1st of August&mdash;the morning after my garden party. You must come
+to it, Ogilvie. Lady Beauregard has persuaded her husband to put off
+their going to Ireland for three days in order to come. And I have got
+old Admiral Maitland coming&mdash;with his stories of the press-gang, and of
+Nelson, and of the raids on the merchant-ships for officers for the
+navy. Did you know that Miss Rawlinson was <a name="Page_84" id="Page_84" />an old sweetheart of his? He
+knew her when she lived in Jamaica with her father&mdash;several centuries
+ago you would think, judging by their stories. Her father got &pound;28,000
+from the government when his slaves were emancipated. I wish I could get
+the old admiral up to Dare&mdash;he and the mother would have some stories to
+tell, I think. But you don't like long journeys at ninety-two.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was in a pleasant and talkative humor, this bright-faced and stalwart
+young fellow, with his proud, fine features and his careless air. One
+could easily see how these old folks had made a sort of a pet of him.
+But while he went on with this desultory chatting about the various
+people whom he had met, and the friendly invitations he had received,
+and the hopes he had formed of renewing his acquantainceship with this
+person and the next person, should chance bring him again to London
+soon, he never once mentioned the name of Miss Gertrude White, or
+referred to her family, or even to her public appearances, about which
+there was plenty of talk at this time. Yet Lieutenant Ogilvie, on his
+rare visits to London, had more than once heard Sir Keith Macleod's name
+mentioned in conjunction with that of the young actress whom society was
+pleased to regard with a special and unusual favor just then; and once
+or twice he, as Macleod's friend, had been archly questioned on the
+subject by some inquisitive lady, whose eyes asked more than her words.
+But Lieutenant Ogilvie was gravely discreet. He neither treated the
+matter with ridicule, nor, on the other hand, did he pretend to know
+more than he actually knew&mdash;which was <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'litterally'">literally</ins> nothing at all. For
+Macleod, who was, in ordinary circumstances, anything but a reserved or
+austere person, was on this subject strictly silent, evading questions
+with a proud and simple dignity that forbade the repetition of them.
+&quot;<i>The thing that concerns you not, meddle not with:</i>&quot; he observed the
+maxim himself, and expected others to do the like.</p>
+
+<p>It was an early dinner they had had, after their stroll in Richmond
+Park, and it was a comparatively early train that Macleod and his friend
+now drove down to catch, after he had paid his bill. When they reached
+Waterloo Station it was not yet eleven o'clock; when he, having bade
+good-bye to Ogilvie, got to his rooms in Bary Street, it was but a few
+minutes after. He was joyfully welcomed by his faithful friend Oscar.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You poor dog,&quot; said he, &quot;here have we been enjoying <a name="Page_85" id="Page_85" />ourselves all the
+day, and you have been in prison. Come, shall we go for a run?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Oscar jumped up on him with a whine of delight; he knew what that taking
+up of the hat again meant. And then there was a silent stealing
+downstairs, and a slight, pardonable bark of joy in the hall, and a wild
+dash into the freedom of the narrow street when the door was opened.
+Then Oscar moderated his transports, and kept pretty close to his master
+as together they began to wander through the desert wilds of London.</p>
+
+<p>Piccadilly?&mdash;Oscar had grown as expert in avoiding the rattling
+broughams and hansoms as the veriest mongrel that ever led a vagrant
+life in London streets. Berekely Square?&mdash;here there was comparative
+quiet, with the gas lamps shining up on the thick foliage of the maples.
+In Grosvenor Square he had a bit of a scamper; but there was no rabbit
+to hunt. In Oxford Street his master took him into a public-house and
+gave him a biscuit and a drink of water; after that his spirits rose a
+bit, and he began to range ahead in Baker Street. But did Oscar know any
+more than his master why they had taken this direction?</p>
+
+<p>Still farther north; and now there were a good many trees about; and the
+moon, high in the heavens, touched the trembling foliage, and shone
+white on the front of the houses. Oscar was a friendly companion; but he
+could not be expected to notice that his master glanced somewhat
+nervously along South Bank when he had reached the entrance to that
+thoroughfare. Apparently the place was quite deserted; there was nothing
+visible but the walls, trees, and houses, one side in black shadow, the
+other shining cold and pale in the moonlight. After a moment's
+hesitation Macleod resumed his walk, though he seemed to tread more
+softly.</p>
+
+<p>And now, in the perfect silence, he neared a certain house, though but
+little of it was visible over the wall and through the trees. Did he
+expect to see a light in one of those upper windows, which the drooping
+acacias did not altogether conceal. He walked quickly by, with his head
+averted. Oscar had got a good way in front, not doubting that his master
+was following him.</p>
+
+<p>But Macleod, perhaps having mustered up further courage, stopped in his
+walk, and returned. This time he passed more slowly, and turned his head
+to the house, as if listening. There was no light in the windows; there
+was no sound at all; there was no motion but that of the trembling
+acacia <a name="Page_86" id="Page_86" />leaves as the cold wind of the night stirred them. And then he
+passed over to the south side of the thoroughfare, and stood in the
+black shadow of a high wall; and Oscar came and looked up into his face.</p>
+
+<p>A brougham rattled by; then there was utter stillness again; and the
+moonlight shone on the front of the small house; which was to all
+appearances as lifeless as the grave. Then, far away, twelve o'clock
+struck, and the sound seemed distant as the sound of a bell at sea in
+this intense quiet.</p>
+
+<p>He was alone with the night, and with the dreams and fancies of the
+night. Would he, then, confess to himself that which he would confess to
+no other? Or was it merely some passing whim&mdash;some slight underchord of
+sentiment struck amidst the careless joy of a young man's holiday&mdash;that
+had led him up into the silent region of trees and moonlight? The scene
+around him was romantic enough, but he certainly had not the features of
+an anguish-stricken lover.</p>
+
+<p>Again the silence of the night was broken by the rumbling of a cab that
+came along the road; and now, whatever may have been the fancy that
+brought him hither, he turned to leave, and Oscar joyfully bounded out
+into the road. But the cab, instead of continuing its route, stopped at
+the gate of the house he had been watching, and two young ladies stepped
+out. Fionaghal, the Fair Stranger, had not, then, been wandering in the
+enchanted land of dreams, but toiling home in a humble four-wheeler from
+the scene of her anxious labors? He would have slunk away rapidly but
+for an untoward accident. Oscar, ranging up and down, came upon an old
+friend, and instantly made acquaintance with her, on seeing which,
+Macleod, with deep vexation at his heart, but with a pleasant and
+careless face, had to walk along also.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What an odd meeting!&quot; said he. &quot;I have been giving Oscar a run. I am
+glad to have a chance of bidding you good-night. You are not very tired,
+I hope.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am rather tired,&quot; said she; &quot;but I have only two more nights, and
+then my holiday begins.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He shook hands with both sisters, and wished them good-night, and
+departed. As Miss Gertrude White went into her father's house she seemed
+rather grave.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty,&quot; said the younger sister, as she screwed up the gas, &quot;wouldn't
+the name of Lady Macleod look well in a play-bill?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The elder sister would not answer; but as she turned <a name="Page_87" id="Page_87" />away there was a
+quick flush of color in her face&mdash;whether caused by anger or by a sudden
+revelation of her own thought it was impossible to say.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI" />CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<h3>A FLOWER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The many friends Macleod had made in the South&mdash;or rather those of them
+who had remained in town till the end of the season&mdash;showed an unwonted
+interest in this nondescript party of his; and it was at a comparatively
+early hour in the evening that the various groups of people began to
+show themselves in Miss Rawlinson's garden. That prim old lady, with her
+quick, bright ways, and her humorous little speeches, studiously kept
+herself in the background. It was Sir Keith Macleod who was the host.
+And when he remarked to her that he thought the most beautiful night of
+all the beautiful time he had spent in the South had been reserved for
+this very party, she replied&mdash;looking round the garden just as if she
+had been one of his guests&mdash;that it was a pretty scene. And it was a
+pretty scene. The last fire of the sunset was just touching the topmost
+branches of the trees. In the colder shade below, the banks and beds of
+flowers and the costumes of the ladies acquired a strange intensity of
+color. Then there was a band playing, and a good deal of chatting going
+on, and one old gentleman with a grizzled mustache humbly receiving
+lessons in lawn tennis from an imperious small maiden of ten. Macleod
+was here, there, and everywhere. The lanterns were to be lit while the
+people were in at supper. Lieutenant Ogilvie was directed to take in
+Lady Beauregard when the time arrived.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must take her in yourself, Macleod,&quot; said that properly constituted
+youth. &quot;If you outrage the sacred laws of precedence&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I mean to take Miss Rawlinson in to supper,&quot; said Macleod; &quot;she is the
+oldest woman here, and I think, my best friend.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought you might wish to give Miss White the place of honor,&quot; said
+Ogilvie, out of sheer impertinence; but Mac<a name="Page_88" id="Page_88" />leod went off to order the
+candles to be lit in the marquee, where supper was laid.</p>
+
+<p>By and by he came out again. And now the twilight had drawn on apace;
+there was a cold, clear light in the skies, while at the same moment a
+red glow began to shine through the canvas of the long tent. He walked
+over to one little group who were seated on a garden chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said he, &quot;I have got pretty nearly all my people together now,
+Mrs. Ross.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But where is Gertrude White?&quot; said Mrs. Ross; &quot;surely she is to be
+here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, I think so,&quot; said he. &quot;Her father and herself both promised to
+come. You know her holidays have begun now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a good thing for that girl,&quot; said Miss Rawlinson, in her quick,
+<i>staccato</i> fashion, &quot;that she has few holidays. Very good thing she has
+her work to mind. The way people run after her would turn any woman's
+head. The Grand D&mdash;&mdash; is said to have declared that she was one of the
+three prettiest women he saw in England: what can you expect if things
+like that get to a girl's ears?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you know Gerty is quite unspoiled,&quot; said Mrs. Ross, warmly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, so far,&quot; said the old lady, &quot;So far she retains the courtesy of
+being hypocritical.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Miss Rawlinson, I won't have you say such things of Gerty White!&quot;
+Mrs. Ross protested. &quot;You are a wicked old woman&mdash;isn't she Hugh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am saying it to her credit,&quot; continued the old lady, with much
+composure. &quot;What I say is, that most pretty women who are much run after
+are flattered into frankness. When they are introduced to you, they
+don't take the trouble to conceal that they are quite indifferent to
+you. A plain woman will be decently civil, and will smile, and pretend
+she is pleased. A beauty&mdash;a recognized beauty&mdash;doesn't take the trouble
+to be hypocritical. Now Miss White does.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is an odd sort of compliment,&quot; said Colonel Ross, laughing. &quot;What do
+you think of it Macleod?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;These are too great refinements for my comprehension,&quot; said he,
+modestly. &quot;I think if a pretty woman is uncivil to you, it is easy for
+you to turn on your heel and go away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I did not say uncivil&mdash;don't you go misrepresenting a poor old woman,
+Sir Keith. I said she is most likely to be <a name="Page_89" id="Page_89" />flattered into being
+honest&mdash;into showing a stranger that she is quite indifferent, whereas a
+plain woman will try to make herself a little agreeable. Now a poor lone
+creature like myself likes to fancy that people are glad to see her, and
+Miss White pretends as much. It is very kind. By and by she will get
+spoiled like the rest, and then she will become honest. She will shake
+hands with me, and then turn off, as much as to say, 'Go away, you ugly
+old woman, for I can't be bothered with you, and I don't expect any
+money from you, and why should I pretend to like you?'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>All this was said in a half-jesting way; and it certainly did not at all
+represent&mdash;so far as Macleod had ever made out&mdash;the real opinions of her
+neighbors in the world held by this really kind and gentle old lady. But
+Macleod had noticed before that Miss Rawlinson never spoke with any
+great warmth about Miss Gertrude White's beauty, or her acting, or
+anything at all connected with her. At this very moment, when she was
+apparently praising the young lady, there was a bitter flavor about what
+she said. There may be jealousy between sixty-five and nineteen; and if
+this reflection occurred to Macleod, he no doubt assumed that Miss
+Rawlinson, if jealous at all, was jealous of Miss Gertrude White's
+influence over&mdash;Mrs. Ross.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As for Miss White's father,&quot; continued the old lady, with a little
+laugh, &quot;perhaps he believes in those sublime theories of art he is
+always preaching about. Perhaps he does. They are very fine. One result
+of them is that his daughter remains on the stage&mdash;and earns a handsome
+income&mdash;and he enjoys himself in picking up bits of curiosities.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now that is really unfair,&quot; said Mrs. Ross, seriously. &quot;Mr. White is
+not a rich man, but he has some small means that render him quite
+independent of any income of his daughter's. Why, how did they live
+before they ever thought of letting her try her fortune on the stage?
+And the money he spent, when it was at last decided she should be
+carefully taught&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, very well,&quot; said Miss Rawlinson, with a smile; but she nodded her
+head ominously. If that old man was not actually living on his
+daughter's earnings, he had at least strangled his mother, or robbed the
+Bank of England, or done something or other. Miss Rawlinson was
+obviously not well disposed either to Mr. White or to his daughter.</p>
+
+<p>At this very moment both these persons made their ap<a name="Page_90" id="Page_90" />pearance, and
+certainly, as this slender and graceful figure, clad in a pale summer
+costume, came across the lawn, and as a smile of recognition lit up the
+intelligent fine face, these critics sitting there must have
+acknowledged that Gertrude White was a singularly pretty woman. And then
+the fascination of that low-toned voice! She began to explain to Macleod
+why they were so late: some trifling accident had happened to Carry. But
+as these simple, pathetic tones told him the story, his heart was filled
+with a great gentleness and pity towards that poor victim of misfortune.
+He was struck with remorse because he had sometimes thought harshly of
+the poor child on account of a mere occasional bit of pertness. His
+first message from the Highlands would be to her.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;O, Willie brew'd a peck o'maut,&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>the band played merrily, as the gay company took their seats at the long
+banquet-table, Macleod leading in the prim old dame who had placed her
+house at his disposal. There was a blaze of light and color in this
+spacious marquee. Bands of scarlet took the place of oaken rafters;
+there were huge blocks of ice on the table, each set in a miniature lake
+that was filled with white water-lilies; there were masses of flowers
+and fruit from one end to the other; and by the side of each <i>menu</i> lay
+a tiny nosegay, in the centre of which was a sprig of bell-heather. This
+last was a notion of Macleod's amiable hostess; she had made up those
+miniature bouquets herself. But she had been forestalled in the pretty
+compliment. Macleod had not seen much of Miss Gertrude White in the cold
+twilight outside. Now, in this blaze of yellow light, he turned his eyes
+to her, as she sat there demurely flirting with an old admiral of
+ninety-two, who was one of Macleod's special friends. And what was that
+flower she wore in her bosom&mdash;the sole piece of color in the costume of
+white? That was no sprig of blood-red bell-heather, but a bit of real
+heather&mdash;of the common ling; and it was set amidst a few leaves of
+juniper. Now, the juniper is the badge of the Clan Macleod. She wore it
+next her heart.</p>
+
+<p>There was laughter, and wine, and merry talking.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Last May a braw wooer,'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>the band played now; but they scarcely listened.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where is your piper, Sir Keith?&quot; said Lady Beauregard.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_91" id="Page_91" />At this moment,&quot; said he, &quot;I should not wonder if he was down at the
+shore, waiting for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are going away quite soon, then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To-morrow. But I don't wish to speak of it. I should like to-night to
+last forever.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Beauregard was interrupted by her neighbor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What has pleased you, then, so much?&quot; said his hostess, looking up at
+him. &quot;London? Or the people in it? Or any one person in it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; he said, laughingly, &quot;the whole thing. What is the use of
+dissecting? It is nothing but holiday making in this place. Now, Miss
+Rawlinson, are you brave? Won't you challenge the admiral to drink a
+glass of wine with you? And you must include his companion&mdash;just as they
+do at the city dinners&mdash;and I will join you too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so these old sweethearts drank to each other. And Macleod raised his
+glass too; and Miss White lowered her eyes, and perhaps flushed a little
+as she touched hers with her lips, for she had not often been asked to
+take a part in this old-fashioned ceremony. But that was not the only
+custom they revived that evening. After the banquet was over, and the
+ladies had got some light shawls and gone out into the mild summer
+night, and when the long marquee was cleared, and the band installed at
+the farther end, then there was a murmured talk of a minuet. Who could
+dance it? Should they try it?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know it?&quot; said Macleod to Miss White.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said she looking down.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you be my partner?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;With pleasure,&quot; she answered, but there was some little surprise in her
+voice which he at once detected.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said he, &quot;the mother taught me when I was a child. She and I used
+to have grand dances together. And Hamish he taught me the sword-dance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know the sword-dance?&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Any one can know it,&quot; said he; &quot;it is more difficult to do it. But at
+one time I could dance it with four of the thickest handled dirks
+instead of the two swords.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope you will show us your skill to-night,&quot; she said, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think any one can dance the sword-dance without the pipes?&quot; said
+he, quite simply.</p>
+
+<p>And now some of the younger people had made bold to try this minuet, and
+Macleod led his partner up to the head <a name="Page_92" id="Page_92" />of the improvised ball-room, and
+the slow and graceful music began. That was a pretty sight for those
+walking outside in the garden. So warm was the night that the canvas of
+one side of the marquee had been removed, and those walking about in the
+dark outside could look into this gayly lighted place with the
+beautifully colored figures moving to the slow music. And as they thus
+walked along the gravel-paths, or under the trees, the stems of which
+were decorated with spirals of colored lamps, a new light arose in the
+south to shed a further magic over the scene. Almost red at first, the
+full moon cleared as it rose, until the trees and bushes were touched
+with a silver radiance, and the few people who walked about threw black
+shadows on the greensward and gravel. In an arbor at the farthest end of
+the garden a number of Chinese lanterns shed a dim colored light on a
+table and a few rocking-chairs. There were cigarettes on the table.</p>
+
+<p>By and by from out of the brilliancy of the tent stepped Macleod and
+Fionaghal herself, she leaning on his arm, a light scarf thrown round
+her neck. She uttered a slight cry of surprise when she saw the picture
+this garden presented&mdash;the colored cups on the trees, the swinging
+lanterns, the broader sheen of the moonlight spreading over the foliage,
+and the lawn, and the walks.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is like fairyland!&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>They walked along the winding gravel-paths; and now that some familiar
+quadrille was being danced in that brilliant tent, there were fewer
+people out here in the moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should begin to believe that romance was possible,&quot; she said, with a
+smile, &quot;if I often saw a beautiful scene like this. It is what we try to
+get in the theatre; but I see all the bare boards and the lime light&mdash;I
+don't have a chance of believing in it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you have a chance of believing in anything,&quot; said he, &quot;on the
+stage?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't understand you,&quot; she said, gently; for she was sure he would
+not mean the rudeness that his words literally conveyed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And perhaps I cannot explain,&quot; said he. &quot;But&mdash;but your father was
+talking the other day about your giving yourself up altogether to your
+art&mdash;living the lives of other people for the time being, forgetting
+yourself, sacrificing yourself, having no life of your own but that.
+What must the <a name="Page_93" id="Page_93" />end of it be?&mdash;that you play with emotions and beliefs
+until you have no faith in any one&mdash;none left for yourself; it is only
+the material of your art. Would you not rather like to live your own
+life?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had spoken rather hesitatingly, and he was not at all sure that he
+had quite conveyed to her his meaning, though he had thought over the
+subject long enough and often enough to get his own impressions of it
+clear.</p>
+
+<p>If she had been ten years older, and an experienced coquette, she would
+have said to herself, &quot;<i>This man hates the stage because he is jealous
+of its hold on my life</i>,&quot; and she would have rejoiced over the
+inadvertent confession. But now these hesitating words of his seemed to
+have awakened some quick responsive thrill in her nature, for she
+suddenly said, with an earnestness that was not at all assumed:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sometimes I have thought of that&mdash;it is so strange to hear my own
+doubts repeated. If I could choose my own life&mdash;yes, I would rather live
+that out than merely imagining the experiences of others. But what is
+one to do? You look around, and take the world as it is. Can anything be
+more trivial and disappointing? When you are Juliet in the balcony, or
+Rosalind in the forest, then you have some better feeling with you, if
+it is only for an hour or so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said he; &quot;and you go on indulging in those doses of fictitious
+sentiment until&mdash;But I am afraid the night air is too cold for you.
+Shall we go back?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She could not fail to notice the trace of bitterness, and subsequent
+coldness, with which he spoke. She knew that he must have been thinking
+deeply over this matter, and that it was no ordinary thing that caused
+him to speak with so much feeling. But, of course, when he proposed that
+they should return to the marquee, she consented. He could not expect
+her to stand there and defend her whole manner of life. Much less could
+he expect her to give up her profession merely because he had exercised
+his wits in getting up some fantastic theory about it. And she began to
+think that he had no right to talk to her in this bitter fashion.</p>
+
+<p>When they had got half way back to the tent, he paused for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am going to ask a favor of you,&quot; he said, in a low voice. &quot;I have
+spent a pleasant time in England, and I cannot tell you how grateful I
+am to you for letting me become one of your friends. To-morrow morning I
+am going <a name="Page_94" id="Page_94" />back home. I should like you to give me that flower&mdash;as some
+little token of remembrance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The small fingers did not tremble at all as she took the flower from her
+dress. She presented it to him with a charming smile and without a word.
+What was the giving of a flower? There was a cart-load of roses in the
+tent.</p>
+
+<p>But this flower she had worn next her heart.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII" />CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<h3>WHITE HEATHER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>And now behold! the red flag flying from the summit of Castle Dare&mdash;a
+spot of brilliant color in this world of whirling mist and flashing
+sunlight. For there is half a gale blowing in from the Atlantic, and
+gusty clouds come sweeping over the islands, so that now the Dutchman,
+and now Fladda, and now Ulva disappears from sight, and then emerges
+into the sunlight again, dripping and shining after the bath, while ever
+and anon the huge promontory of Ru-Treshanish shows a gloomy purple far
+in the north. But the wind and the weather may do what they like to-day;
+for has not the word just come down from the hill that the smoke of the
+steamer has been made out in the south? and old Hamish is flying this
+way and that, fairly at his wits' end with excitement; and Janet Macleod
+has cast a last look at the decorations of heather and juniper in the
+great hall; while Lady Macleod, dressed in the most stately fashion, has
+declared that she is as able as the youngest of them to walk down to the
+point to welcome home her son.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, your leddyship, it is very bad,&quot; complains the distracted Hamish,
+&quot;that it will be so rough a day this day, and Sir Keith not to come
+ashore in his own gig, but in a fishing-boat, and to come ashore at the
+fishing quay, too; but it is his own men will go out for him, and not
+the fishermen at all, though I am sure they will hef a dram whatever
+when Sir Keith comes ashore. And will you not tek the pony, your
+leddyship? for it is a long road to the quay.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I will not take the pony, Hamish,&quot; said the tall, white-haired
+dame, &quot;and it is not of much consequence what <a name="Page_95" id="Page_95" />boat Sir Keith has, so
+long as he comes back to us. And now I think you had better go down to
+the quay yourself, and see that the cart is waiting and the boat ready.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But how could old Hamish go down to the quay? He was in his own person
+skipper, head keeper, steward, butler, and general major-domo, and ought
+on such a day as this to have been in half a dozen places at once. From
+the earliest morning he had been hurrying hither and thither, in his
+impatience making use of much voluble Gaelic. He had seen the yacht's
+crew in their new jersies. He had been round the kennels. He had got out
+a couple of bottles of the best claret that Castle Dare could afford. He
+had his master's letters arranged on the library table, and had given a
+final rub to the guns and rifles on the rack. He had even been down to
+the quay, swearing at the salmon-fishers for having so much lumber lying
+about the place where Sir Keith Macleod was to land. And if he was to go
+down to the quay now, how could he be sure that the ancient
+ <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Christiana'">Christina</ins>,
+who was mistress of the kitchen as far as her husband Hamish would allow
+her to be, would remember all his instructions? And then the little
+granddaughter <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Christiana'">Christina</ins>,
+ would she remember her part in the
+ceremony?</p>
+
+<p>However, as Hamish could not be in six places at once, he decided to
+obey his mistress's directions, and went hurriedly off to the quay,
+overtaking on his way Donald the piper lad, who was apparelled in all
+his professional finery.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if ever you put wind in your pipes, you will put wind in your pipes
+this day, Donald,&quot; said he to the red-haired lad. &quot;And I will tell you
+now what you will play when you come ashore from the steamer: it is the
+'Farewell to Chubraltar' you will play.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The 'Farewell to Gibraltar!'&quot; said Donald, peevishly, for he was bound
+in honor to let no man interfere with his proper business. &quot;It is a
+better march than that I will play, Hamish. It is the 'Heights of Alma,'
+that was made by Mr. Ross, the Queen's own piper; and will you tell me
+that the 'Heights of Alma' is not a better march than the 'Farewell to
+Gibraltar?'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hamish pretended to pay no heed to this impertinent boy. His eye was
+fixed on a distant black speck that was becoming more and more
+pronounced out there amidst the grays and greens of the windy and sunlit
+sea. Occasionally it disappeared altogether, as a cloud of rain swept
+across toward the giant cliffs of Mull, and then again it would appear,
+<a name="Page_96" id="Page_96" />sharper and blacker than ever, while the masts and funnel were now
+visible as well as the hull. When Donald and his companion got down to
+the quay, they found the men already in the big boat, getting ready to
+hoist the huge brown lugsail; and there was a good deal of laughing and
+talking going on, perhaps in anticipation of the dram they were sure to
+get when their master returned to Castle Dare. Donald jumped down on the
+rude stone ballast, and made his way up to the bow; Hamish, who remained
+on shore, helped to shove her off; then the heavy lugsail was quickly
+hoisted, the sheet hauled tight; and presently the broad-beamed boat was
+ploughing its way through the rushing seas, with an occasional cloud of
+spray coming right over her from stem to stern. &quot;Fhir a bhata,&quot; the men
+sung, until Donald struck in with his pipes, and the wild skirl of &quot;The
+Barren Rocks of Aden&quot; was a fitter sort of music to go with these
+sweeping winds and plunging seas.</p>
+
+<p>And now we will board the steamer, where Keith Macleod is up on the
+bridge, occasionally using a glass, and again talking to the captain,
+who is beside him. First of all on board he had caught sight of the red
+flag floating over Castle Dare; and his heart had leaped up at that sign
+of welcome. Then he could make out the dark figures on the quay, and the
+hoisting of the lugsail, and the putting off of the boat. It was not a
+good day for observing things, for heavy clouds were quickly passing
+over, followed by bewildering gleams of a sort of watery sunlight; but
+as it happened, one of these sudden flashes chanced to light up a small
+plateau on the side of the hill above the quarry, just as the glass was
+directed on that point. Surely&mdash;surely&mdash;these two figures?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, it is the mother&mdash;and Janet!&quot; he cried.</p>
+
+<p>He hastily gave the glass to his companion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look!&quot; said he. &quot;Don't you think that is Lady Macleod and my cousin?
+What could have tempted the old lady to come away down there on such a
+squally day?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, I think it is the ladies,&quot; said the captain; and then he added,
+with a friendly smile, &quot;and I think it is to see you all the sooner, Sir
+Keith, that they have come down to the shore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then,&quot; said he, &quot;I must go down and get my gillie, and show him his
+future home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went below the hurricane deck to a corner in which Oscar was chained
+up. Beside the dog, sitting on a campstool, and wrapped round with a
+tartan plaid, was the person <a name="Page_97" id="Page_97" />whom Macleod had doubtless referred to as
+his gillie. He was not a distinguished-looking attendant to be
+travelling with a Highland chieftain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Johnny, my man, come on deck now, and I will show you where you are
+going to live. You're all right now, aren't you? And you will be on the
+solid land again in about ten minutes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod's gillie rose&mdash;or, rather, got down&mdash;from the campstool, and
+showed himself to be a miserable, emaciated child of ten or eleven, with
+a perfectly colorless face, frightened gray eyes, and starved white
+hands. The contrast between the bronzed and bearded sailors&mdash;who were
+now hurrying about to receive the boat from Dare&mdash;and this pallid and
+shrunken scrap of humanity was striking; and when Macleod took his hand,
+and half led and half carried him up on deck, the look of terror that he
+directed on the plunging waters all around showed that he had not had
+much experience of the sea. Involuntarily he had grasped hold of
+Macleod's coat as if for protection.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, Johnny, look right ahead. Do you see the big house on the cliffs
+over yonder?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The child, still clinging on to his protector, looked all round with the
+dull, pale eyes, and at length said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't you see that house, poor chap? Well, do you see that boat over
+there? You must be able to see that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That boat is to take you ashore. You needn't be afraid. If you don't
+like to look at the sea, get down into the bottom of the boat, and take
+Oscar with you, and you'll see nothing until you are ashore. Do you
+understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come along, then.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For now the wild skirl of Donald's pipes was plainly audible; and the
+various packages&mdash;the new rifle, the wooden case containing the
+wonderful dresses for Lady Macleod and her niece, and what not&mdash;were all
+ranged ready; to say nothing of some loaves of white bread that the
+steward was sending ashore at Hamish's request. And then the heaving
+boat came close to, her sail hauled down; and a rope was thrown and
+caught; and then there was a hazardous scrambling down the dripping iron
+steps, and a notable spring on the part of Oscar, who had escaped from
+the hands of the sailors. As for the new gillie, he resembled nothing so
+much as a limp <a name="Page_98" id="Page_98" />bunch of clothes, as Macleod's men, wondering not a
+little, caught him up and passed him astern. Then the rope was thrown
+off, the steamer steamed slowly ahead, the lugsail was run up again, and
+away the boat plunged for the shore, with Donald playing the &quot;Heights of
+Alma&quot; as though he would rend the skies.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hold your noise, Donald!&quot; his master called to him. &quot;You will have
+plenty of time to play the pipes in the evening.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For he was greatly delighted to be among his own people again; and he
+was eager in his questions of the men as to all that had happened in his
+absence; and it was no small thing to them that Sir Keith Macleod should
+remember their affairs, too, and ask after their families and friends.
+Donald's loyalty was stronger than his professional pride. He was not
+offended that he had been silenced; he only bottled up his musical
+fervor all the more; and at length, as he neared the land, and knew that
+Lady Macleod and Miss Macleod were within hearing, he took it that he
+knew better than any one else what was proper to the occasion, and once
+more the proud and stirring march strove with the sound of the hurrying
+waves. Nor was that all. The piper lad was doing his best. Never before
+had he put such fire into his work; but as they got close inshore the
+joy in his heart got altogether the mastery of him, and away he broke
+into the mad delight of &quot;Lady Mary Ramsay's Reel.&quot; Hamish on the quay
+heard, and he strutted about as if he were himself playing, and that
+before the Queen. And then he heard another sound&mdash;that of Macleod's
+voice:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Stand by lads!... Down with her!</i>&quot;&mdash;and the flapping sail, with its
+swinging gaff, rattled down into the boat. At the same moment Oscar made
+a clear spring into the water, gained the landing-steps, and dashed
+upward&mdash;dripping as he was&mdash;to two ladies who were standing on the quay
+above. And Janet Macleod so far forgot what was due to her best gown
+that she caught his head in her arms, as he pawed and whined with
+delight.</p>
+
+<p>That was a glad enough party that started off and up the hillside for
+Castle Dare. Janet Macleod did not care to conceal that she had been
+crying a little bit; and there were proud tears in the eyes of the
+stately old dame who walked with her; but the most excited of all was
+Hamish, who could by no means be got to understand that his master did
+not all at once want to hear about the trial of the young setters, <a name="Page_99" id="Page_99" />and
+the price of the sheep sold the week before at Tobermory, and the stag
+that was chased by the Carsaig men on Tuesday.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Confound it, Hamish!&quot; Macleod said, laughing, &quot;leave all those things
+till after dinner.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, ay, oh ay, Sir Keith, we will hef plenty of time after dinner,&quot;
+said Hamish, just as if he were one of the party, but very nervously
+working with the ends of his thumbs all the time, &quot;and I will tell you
+of the fine big stag that has been coming down every night&mdash;every night,
+as I am a living man&mdash;to Mrs. Murdoch's corn: and I wass saying to her,
+'Just hold your tongue, Mrs. Murdoch'&mdash;that wass what I will say to
+her&mdash;'just hold your tongue, Mrs. Murdoch, and be a civil woman, for a
+day or two days, and when Sir Keith comes home it iss no more at all the
+stag will trouble you&mdash;oh no, no more at all; there will be no more
+trouble about the stag when Sir Keith comes home.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And old Hamish laughed at his own wit, but it was in a sort of excited
+way.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here, Hamish, I want you to do this for me,&quot; Macleod said; and
+instantly the face of the old man&mdash;it was a fine face, too, with its
+aquiline nose, and grizzled hair, and keen hawk-like eyes&mdash;was full of
+an eager attention. &quot;Go back and fetch that little boy I left with
+Donald. You had better look after him yourself. I don't think any water
+came over him; but give him dry clothes if he is wet at all. And feed
+him up: the little beggar will take a lot of fattening without any
+harm.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where is he to go to?&quot; said Hamish, doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are to make a keeper of him. When you have fattened him up a bit,
+teach him to feed the dogs. When he gets bigger, he can clean the guns.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will let no man or boy clean the guns for you but myself, Sir Keith,&quot;
+the old man said, quite simply, and without a shadow of disrespect, &quot;I
+will hef no risks of the kind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, then; but go and get the boy, and make him at home as much
+as you can. Feed him up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who is it, Keith?&quot; his cousin said, &quot;that you are speaking of as if he
+was a sheep or a calf?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Faith,&quot; said he, laughing, &quot;if the philanthropists heard of it, they
+would prosecute me for slave-stealing. I bought the boy&mdash;for a
+sovereign.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you have made a bad bargain, Keith,&quot; his <a name="Page_100" id="Page_100" />mother said; but she
+was quite prepared to hear of some absurd whim of his.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said he, &quot;I was going into Trafalgar Square, where the National
+Gallery of pictures is, mother, and there is a cab-stand in the street,
+and there was a cabman standing there, munching at a lump of dry bread
+that he cut with a jack-knife. I never saw a cabman do that before; I
+should have been less surprised if he had been having a chicken and a
+bottle of port. However, in front of this big cabman this little chap I
+have brought with me was standing; quite in rags; no shoes on his feet,
+no cap on his wild hair; and he was looking fixedly at the big lump of
+bread. I never saw any animal look so starved and so hungry; his eyes
+were quite glazed with the fascination of seeing the man ploughing away
+at this lump of loaf. And I never saw any child so thin. His hands were
+like the claws of a bird; and his trousers were short and torn so that
+you could see his legs were like two pipe-stems. At last the cabman saw
+him. 'Get out o' the way,' says he. The little chap slunk off,
+frightened, I suppose. Then the man changed his mind. 'Come here,' says
+he. But the little chap was frightened, and wouldn't come back; so he
+went after him, and thrust the loaf into his hand, and bade him be off.
+I can tell you, the way he went into that loaf was very fine to see. It
+was like a weasel at the neck of a rabbit. It was like an otter at the
+back of a salmon. And that was how I made his acquaintance,&quot; Macleod
+added, carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you have not told us why you brought him up here,&quot; his mother said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said he, with a sort of laugh, &quot;I was looking at him, and I
+wondered whether Highland mutton and Highland air would make any
+difference in the wretched little skeleton; and so I made his
+acquaintance. I went home with him to a fearful place&mdash;I have got the
+address, but I did not know there were such quarters in London&mdash;and I
+saw his mother. The poor woman was very ill, and she had a lot of
+children; and she seemed quite glad when I offered to take this one and
+make a herd or a gamekeeper of him. I promised he should go to visit her
+once a year, that she might see whether there was any difference. And I
+gave her a sovereign.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You were quite right, Keith,&quot; his cousin said, gravely; &quot;You run a
+great risk. Do they hang slavers?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother,&quot; said he, for by this time the ladies were stand<a name="Page_101" id="Page_101" />ing still, so
+that Hamish and the new gillie should overtake them, &quot;you mustn't laugh
+at the little chap when you see him with the plaid taken off. The fact
+is, I took him to a shop in the neighborhood to get some clothes for
+him, but I couldn't get anything small enough. He <i>does</i> look
+ridiculous; but you mustn't laugh at him, for he is like a girl for
+sensitiveness. But when he has been fed up a bit, and got some Highland
+air into his lungs, his own mother won't know him. And you will get him
+some other clothes, Janet&mdash;some kilts, maybe&mdash;when his legs get
+stronger.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Whatever Keith Macleod did was sure to be right in his mother's eyes,
+and she only said, with a laugh,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Keith, you are not like your brothers. When they brought me home
+presents, it was pretty things; but all your curiosities, wherever you
+go, are the halt, and the lame, and the blind; so that people laugh at
+you, and say that Castle Dare is becoming the hospital of Mull.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother, I don't care what the people say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And indeed I know that,&quot; she answered.</p>
+
+<p>Their waiting had allowed Hamish and the new gillie to overtake them;
+and certainly the latter, deprived of his plaid, presented a
+sufficiently ridiculous appearance in the trousers and jacket that were
+obviously too big for him. But neither Lady Macleod nor Janet laughed at
+all when they saw this starved London waif before them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Johnny,&quot; said Macleod, &quot;here are two ladies who will be very kind to
+you, so you needn't be afraid to live here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Johnny did look mortally afraid, and instinctively once more took
+hold of Macleod's coat. Then he seemed to have some notion of his duty.
+He drew back one foot, and made a sort of courtesy. Probably he had seen
+girls do this, in mock-heroic fashion, in some London court.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And are you very tired?&quot; said Janet Macleod, in that soft voice of hers
+that all children loved.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said the child.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Kott bless me!&quot; cried Hamish, &quot;I did not know that!&quot;&mdash;and therewith the
+old man caught up Johnny Wickes as if he had been a bit of ribbon, and
+flung him on to his shoulder, and marched off to Castle Dare.</p>
+
+<p>Then the three Macleods continued on their way&mdash;through the
+damp-smelling fir-wood; over the bridge that spanned the brawling brook;
+again through the fir-wood; until they reached the open space
+surrounding the big stone house. They stood for a minute there&mdash;high
+over the great <a name="Page_102" id="Page_102" />plain of the sea, that was beautiful with a thousand
+tints of light. And there was the green island of Ulva, and there the
+darker rocks of Colonsay, and farther out, amidst the windy vapor and
+sunlight, Lunga, and Fladda, and the Dutchman's Cap, changing in their
+hue every minute as the clouds came driving over the sea.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother,&quot; said he, &quot;I have not tasted fresh air since I left. I am not
+sorry to get back to Dare.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I don't think we are sorry to see you back, Keith,&quot; his cousin
+said, modestly.</p>
+
+<p>And yet the manner of his welcome was not imposing; they are not very
+good at grand ceremonies on the western shores of Mull. It is true that
+Donald, relieved of the care of Johnny Wickes, had sped by a short-cut
+through the fir-wood, and was now standing in the gravelled space
+outside the house, playing the &quot;Heights of Alma&quot; with a spirit worthy of
+all the MacCruimins that ever lived. But as for the ceremony of welcome,
+this was all there was of it: When Keith Macleod went up to the hall
+door, he found a small girl of five or six standing quite by herself at
+the open entrance. This was Christina, the granddaughter of Hamish, a
+pretty little girl with wide blue eyes and yellow hair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Halloo, Christina,&quot; said Macleod, &quot;won't you let me into the house?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is for you, Sir Keith,&quot; said she, in the Gaelic, and she presented
+him with a beautiful bunch of white heather. Now white heather, in that
+part of the country, is known to bring great good fortune to the
+possessor of it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And it is a good omen,&quot; said he, lightly, as he took the child up and
+kissed her. And that was the manner of his welcome to Castle Dare.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII" />CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>AT HOME.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The two women-folk, with whom he was most nearly brought into contact,
+were quite convinced that his stay in London had in nowise altered the
+buoyant humor and brisk activity of Keith Macleod. Castle Dare awoke
+into a new life on his return. He was all about and over the place
+<a name="Page_103" id="Page_103" />accompanied by the faithful Hamish; and he had a friendly word and
+smile for every one he met. He was a good master: perhaps he was none
+the less liked because it was pretty well understood that he meant to be
+master. His good-nature had nothing of weakness in it. &quot;If you love me,
+I love you,&quot; says the Gaelic proverb; &quot;<i>otherwise do not come near me</i>.&quot;
+There was not a man or lad about the place who would not have adventured
+his life for Macleod; but all the same they were well aware that the
+handsome young master, who seemed to go through life with a merry laugh
+on his face, was not one to be trifled with. This John Fraser, an
+Aberdeen man, discovered on the second night after Macleod's return to
+Castle Dare.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod had the salmon-fishing on this part of the coast, and had a
+boat's crew of four men engaged in the work. One of these having fallen
+sick, Hamish had to hire a new hand, an Aberdeenshire man, who joined
+the crew just before Macleod's departure from London. This Fraser turned
+out to be a &quot;dour&quot; man; and his discontent and grumbling seemed to be
+affecting the others, so that the domestic peace of Dare was threatened.
+On the night in question old Hamish came into Macleod's conjoint library
+and gun-room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The fishermen hef been asking me again, sir,&quot; observed Hamish, with his
+cap in his hand. &quot;What will I say to them?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, about the wages?&quot; Macleod said, turning round.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Hamish, I don't object. Tell them that what they say is right.
+This year has been a very good year; we have made some money; I will
+give them two shillings a week more if they like. But then, look here,
+Hamish&mdash;if they have their wages raised in a good year, they must have
+them lowered in a bad year. They cannot expect to share the profit
+without sharing the loss too. Do you understand that, Hamish?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Sir Keith, I think I do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think you could put it into good Gaelic for them?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh ay.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then tell them to choose for themselves. But make it clear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, Sir Keith,&quot; said Hamish. &quot;And if it was not for that &mdash;&mdash; man, John
+Fraser, there would be no word of this thing. And there is another thing
+I will hef to speak to you <a name="Page_104" id="Page_104" />about, Sir Keith; and it is John Fraser,
+too, who is at the bottom of this, I will know that fine. It is more
+than two or three times that you will warn the men not to bathe in the
+bay below the castle; and not for many a day will any one do that, for
+the Cave bay it is not more as half a mile away. And when you were in
+London, Sir Keith, it was this man John Fraser he would bathe in the bay
+below the castle in the morning, and he got one or two of the others to
+join him; and when I bade him go away, he will say that the sea belongs
+to no man. And this morning, too&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This morning!&quot; Macleod said, jumping to his feet. There was an angry
+flash in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, sir, this very morning I saw two of them myself&mdash;and John Fraser he
+was one of them&mdash;and I went down and said to them, 'It will be a bad day
+for you,' says I to them, 'if Sir Keith will find you in this bay.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are they down at the quay now?&quot; Macleod said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, they will be in the house now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come along with me, Hamish. I think we will put this right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He lifted his cap and went out into the cool night air, followed by
+Hamish. They passed through the dark fir-wood until they came in sight
+of the Atlantic again, which was smooth enough to show the troubled
+reflection of the bigger stars. They went down the hillside until they
+were close to the shore, and then they followed the rough path to the
+quay. The door of the square stone building was open; the men were
+seated on rude stools or on spare coils of rope, smoking. Macleod called
+them out, and they came to the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now look here, boys,&quot; said he, &quot;you know I will not allow any man to
+bathe in the bay before the house. I told you before; I tell you now for
+the last time. They that want to bathe can go along to the Cave bay; and
+the end of it is this&mdash;and there will be no more words about it&mdash;that
+the first man I catch in the bay before the house I will take a
+horsewhip to him, and he will have as good a run as ever he had in his
+life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With that he was turning away, when he heard one of the men mutter, &quot;<i>I
+would like to see you do it!</i>&quot; He wheeled round instantly&mdash;and if some
+of his London friends could have seen the look of his face at this
+moment, they might have altered their opinion about the obliteration of
+certain qualities from the temperament of the Highlanders of our own
+day.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_105" id="Page_105" />Who said that?&quot; he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>There was no answer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come out here, you four men!&quot; he said. &quot;Stand in a line there. Now let
+the man who said that step out and face me. I will show him who is to be
+master here. If he thinks he can master me, well; but it is one or the
+other of us who will be master!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was not a sound or a motion; but Macleod sprang forward, caught
+the man Fraser by the throat, and shook him thrice&mdash;as he might have
+shaken a reed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You scoundrel!&quot; he said. &quot;You coward! Are you afraid to own it was you?
+There has been nothing but bad feeling since ever you brought your ugly
+face among us&mdash;well, we've had enough of you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He flung him back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hamish,&quot; said he, &quot;you will pay this man his month's wages to-night.
+Pack him off with the Gometra men in the morning; they will take him out
+to the <i>Pioneer</i>. And look you here, sir,&quot; he added, turning to Fraser,
+&quot;it will be a bad day for you the day that I see your face again
+anywhere about Castle Dare.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He walked off and up to the house again, followed by the reluctant
+Hamish. Hamish had spoken of this matter only that Macleod should give
+the men a renewed warning; he had no notion that this act of vengeance
+would be the result. And where were they to get a man to put in Fraser's
+place?</p>
+
+<p>It was about an hour later that Hamish again came into the room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon, sir,&quot; said he, &quot;but the men are outside.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot see them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are ferry sorry, sir, about the whole matter, and there will be no
+more bathing in the front of the house, and the man Fraser they hef
+brought him up to say he is ferry sorry too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They have brought him up?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, sir,&quot; said Hamish, with a grave smile. &quot;It was for fighting him
+they were one after the other because he will make a bad speech to you;
+and he could not fight three men one after the other; and so they hef
+made him come up to say he is ferry sorry too; and will you let him stay
+on to the end of the season?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No. Tell the men that if they will behave themselves, we can go on as
+we did before, in peace and friendliness; but I <a name="Page_106" id="Page_106" />mean to be master in
+this place. And I will not have a sulky fellow like this Fraser stirring
+up quarrels. He must pack and be off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It will not be easy to get another man, Sir Keith,&quot; old Hamish ventured
+to say.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get Sandy over from the <i>Umpire</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But surely you will want the yacht, sir, when Mr. Ogilvie comes to
+Dare?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tell you Hamish, that I will not have that fellow about the place.
+That is an end of it. Did you think it was only a threat that I meant?
+And have you not heard the old saying that 'one does not apply plaster
+to a threat?' You will send him to Gometra in the morning in time for
+the boat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so the sentence of banishment was confirmed; and Hamish got a young
+fellow from Ulva to take the place of Fraser; and from that time to the
+end of the fishing season perfect peace and harmony prevailed between
+master and men.</p>
+
+<p>But if Lady Macleod and Janet saw no change whatever in Macleod's manner
+after his return from the South, Hamish, who was more alone with the
+young man, did. Why this strange indifference to the very occupations
+that used to be the chief interest of his life? He would not go out
+after the deer; the velvet would be on their horns yet. He would not go
+out after the grouse: what was the use of disturbing them before Mr.
+Ogilvie came up?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am in no hurry,&quot; he said, almost petulantly. &quot;Shall I not have to be
+here the whole winter for the shooting?&quot;&mdash;and Hamish was amazed to hear
+him talk of the winter shooting as some compulsory duty, whereas in
+these parts it far exceeded in variety and interest the very limited
+low-ground shooting of the autumn. Until young Ogilvie came up, Macleod
+never had a gun in his hand. He had gone fishing two or three days; but
+had generally ended by surrendering his rod to Hamish, and going for a
+walk up the glen, alone. The only thing he seemed to care about, in the
+way of out of door occupation, was the procuring of otter-skins; and
+every man and boy in his service was ordered to keep a sharp lookout on
+that stormy coast for the prince of fur-bearing animals. Years before he
+had got enough skins together for a jacket for his cousin Janet; and
+that garment of beautiful thick black fur&mdash;dyed black, of course&mdash;was as
+silken and rich as when it was made. Why should he forget his own theory
+of <a name="Page_107" id="Page_107" />letting all animals have a chance in urging a war of extermination
+against the otter?</p>
+
+<p>This preoccupation of mind, of which Hamish was alone observant, was
+nearly inflicting a cruel injury on Hamish himself. On the morning of
+the day on which Ogilvie was expected to arrive, Hamish went in to his
+master's library. Macleod had been reading a book, but he had pushed it
+aside, and now both his elbows were on the table, and he was leaning his
+head on his hands, apparently in deep meditation of some kind or other.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will I tek the bandage off Nell's foot now, sir?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, if you like. You know as much as I do about it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I am quite sure,&quot; said Hamish, brightly, &quot;that she will do ferry
+well to-morrow. I will tek her whatever; and I can send her home if it
+is too much for her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod took up his book again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, Hamish. But you have plenty to do about the house. Duncan
+and Sandy can go with us to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old man started, and looked at his master for a second. Then he
+said, &quot;Ferry well, sir,&quot; in a low voice, and left the room.</p>
+
+<p>But for the hurt, and the wounded, and the sorrowful there was always
+one refuge of consolation in Castle Dare. Hamish went straight to Janet
+Macleod; and she was astonished to see the emotion of which the keen,
+hard, handsome face of the old man was capable. Who before had ever seen
+tears in the eyes of Hamish MacIntyre?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And perhaps it is so,&quot; said Hamish, with his head hanging down, &quot;and
+perhaps it is that I am an old man now, and not able any more to go up
+to the hills; but if I am not able for that, I am not able for anything;
+and I will not ask Sir Keith to keep me about the house, or about the
+yacht. It is younger men will do better as me; and I can go away to
+Greenock; and if it is an old man I am, maybe I will find a place in a
+smack, for all that&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, nonsense, Hamish!&quot; Janet Macleod said, with her kindly eyes bent on
+him. &quot;You may be sure Sir Keith did not mean anything like that&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, mem,&quot; said the old man, proudly, &quot;and who wass it that first put a
+gun into his hand? and who wass it skinned the ferry first seal that he
+shot in Loch Scridain? and who wass it told him the name of every spar
+and sheet of the <i>Umpire</i>, and showed him how to hold a tiller? And if
+there is <a name="Page_108" id="Page_108" />any man knows more as me about the birds and the deer, that is
+right&mdash;let him go out; but it is the first day I hef not been out with
+Sir Keith since ever I wass at Castle Dare; and now it is time that I am
+going away; for I am an old man; and the younger men they will be better
+on the hills, and in the yacht too. But I can make my living whatever.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hamish, you are speaking like a foolish man,&quot; said Janet Macleod to
+him. &quot;You will wait here now till I go to Sir Keith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She went to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Keith,&quot; said she, &quot;do you know that you have nearly broken old Hamish's
+heart?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is the matter?&quot; said he, looking up in wonder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He says you have told him he is not to go out to the shooting with you
+to-morrow; and that is the first time he has been superseded; and he
+takes it that you think he is an old man; and he talks of going away to
+Greenock to join a smack.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, nonsense!&quot; Macleod said. &quot;I was not thinking when I told him. He
+may come with us if he likes. At the same time, Janet, I should think
+Norman Ogilvie will laugh at seeing the butler come out as a keeper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know quite well, Keith,&quot; said his cousin, &quot;that Hamish is no more a
+butler than he is captain of the <i>Umpire</i> or clerk of the accounts.
+Hamish is simply everybody and everything at Castle Dare. And if you
+speak of Norman Ogilvie&mdash;well, I think it would be more like yourself,
+Keith, to consult the feelings of an old man rather than the opinions of
+a young one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are always on the right side, Janet. Tell Hamish I am very sorry. I
+meant him no disrespect. And he may call me at one in the morning if he
+likes. He never looked on me but as a bit of his various machinery for
+killing things.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is not fair of you, Keith. Old Hamish would give his right hand to
+save you the scratch of a thorn.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She went off to cheer the old man, and he turned to his book. But it was
+not to read it; it was only to stare at the outside of it in an absent
+sort of way. The fact is, he had found in it the story of a young
+aid-de-camp who was intrusted with a message to a distant part of the
+field while a battle was going forward, and who in mere bravado rode
+across a part of the ground open to the enemy's fire. He came back
+laughing. He had been hit, he confessed, but he had escaped: and he
+carelessly shook a drop or two of blood from <a name="Page_109" id="Page_109" />a flesh wound on his hand.
+Suddenly, however, he turned pale, wavered a little, and then fell
+forward on his horse's neck, a corpse.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod was thinking about this story rather gloomily. But at last he
+got up with a more cheerful air, and seized his cap.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if it is my death-wound I have got,&quot; he was thinking to himself, as
+he set out for the boat that was waiting for him at the shore, &quot;I will
+not cry out too soon.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV" />CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>A FRIEND.</h3>
+
+
+<p>His death-wound! There was but little suggestion of any death-wound
+about the manner or speech of this light-hearted and frank-spoken fellow
+who now welcomed his old friend Ogilvie ashore. He swung the gun-case
+into the cart as if it had been a bit of thread. He himself would carry
+Ogilvie's top-coat over his arm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And why have you not come in your hunting tartan?&quot; said he, observing
+the very precise and correct shooting costume of the young man.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not likely,&quot; said Mr. Ogilvie, laughing. &quot;I don't like walking through
+clouds with bare knees, with a chance of sitting down on an adder or
+two. And I'll tell you what it is, Macleod; if the morning is wet, I
+will not go out stalking, if all the stags in Christendom were there. I
+know what it is; I have had enough of it in my younger days.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear fellow,&quot; Macleod said, seriously, &quot;you must not talk here as if
+you could do what you liked. It is not what you wish to do, or what you
+don't wish to do; it is what Hamish orders to have done. Do you think I
+would dare to tell Hamish what we must do to-morrow?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, then, I will see Hamish myself; I dare say he remembers me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he did see Hamish that evening, and it was arranged between them
+that if the morning looked threatening, they <a name="Page_110" id="Page_110" />would leave the deer
+alone, and would merely take the lower-lying moors in the immediate
+neighborhood of Castle Dare. Hamish took great care to impress on the
+young man that Macleod had not yet taken a gun in his hand, merely that
+there should be a decent bit of shooting when his guest arrived.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And he will say to me, only yesterday,&quot; observed Hamish,
+confidentially&mdash;&quot;it wass yesterday itself he wass saying to me, 'Hamish,
+when Mr. Ogilvie comes here, it will be only six days or seven days he
+will be able to stop, and you will try to get him two or three stags.
+And, Hamish'&mdash;this is what he will say to me&mdash;'you will pay no heed to
+me, for I hef plenty of the shooting whatever, from the one year's end
+to the other year's end, and it is Mr. Ogilvie you will look after.' And
+you do not mind the rain, sir? It is fine warm clothes you have got
+on&mdash;fine woollen clothes you have, and what harm will a shower do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I don't mind the rain, so long as I can keep moving&mdash;that's the
+fact, Hamish,&quot; replied Mr. Ogilvie; &quot;but I don't like lying in wet
+heather for an hour at a stretch. And I don't care how few birds there
+are, there will be plenty to keep us walking. So you remember me, after
+all, Hamish?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh ay, sir,&quot; said Hamish, with a demure twinkle in his eye. &quot;I mind
+fine the time you will fall into the water off the rock in Loch na
+Keal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There, now,&quot; exclaimed Mr. Ogilvie. &quot;That is precisely what I don't see
+the fun of doing, now that I have got to man's estate, and have a
+wholesome fear of killing myself. Do you think I would lie down now on
+wet sea-weed, and get slowly soaked through with the rain for a whole
+hour, on the chance of a seal coming on the other side of the rock? Of
+course when I tried to get up I was as stiff as a stone. I could not
+have lifted the rifle if a hundred seals had been there. And it was no
+wonder at all I slipped down into the water.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But the sea-water,&quot; said Hamish, gravely; &quot;there will no harm come to
+you of the sea-water.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want to have as little as possible of either sea-water or
+rain-water,&quot; said Mr. Ogilvie, with decision, &quot;I believe Macleod is half
+an otter himself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hamish did not like this, but he only said, respectfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not think Sir Keith is afraid of a shower of rain whatever.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>These gloomy anticipations were surely uncalled for; for during the
+whole of the past week the Western Isles had <a name="Page_111" id="Page_111" />basked in uninterrupted
+sunlight, with blue skies over the fair blue seas, and a resinous warmth
+exhaling from the lonely moors. But all the same, next morning broke as
+if Mr. Ogilvie's forebodings were only too likely to be realized. The
+sea was leaden-hued and apparently still, though the booming of the
+Atlantic swell into the great caverns could be heard; Staffa, and Lunga,
+and the Dutchman were of a dismal black; the brighter colors of Ulva and
+Colonsay seemed coldly gray and green; and heavy banks of cloud lay
+along the land, running out to Ru-Treshanish. The noise of the stream
+rushing down through the fir-wood close to the castle seemed louder than
+usual, as if rain had fallen during the night. It was rather cold, too:
+all that Lady Macleod and Janet could say failed to raise the spirits of
+their guest.</p>
+
+<p>But when Macleod&mdash;dressed in his homespun tartan of yellow and
+black&mdash;came round from the kennels with the dogs, and Hamish, and the
+tall red-headed lad Sandy, it appeared that they considered this to be
+rather a fine day than otherwise, and were eager to be off.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come along, Ogilvie.&quot; Macleod cried, as he gave his friend's gun to
+Sandy, but shouldered his own. &quot;Sorry we haven't a dog-cart to drive you
+to the moor, but it is not far off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think a cigar in the library would be the best thing for a morning
+like this,&quot; said Ogilvie, rather gloomily, as he put up the collar of
+his shooting-jacket, for a drop or two of rain had fallen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense, man! the first bird you kill will cheer you up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod was right; they had just passed through the wood of young
+larches close to Castle Dare, and were ascending a rough stone road that
+led by the side of a deep glen, when a sudden whir close by them
+startled the silence of this gloomy morning. In an instant Macleod had
+whipped his gun from his shoulder and thrust it into Ogilvie's hands. By
+the time the young man had full-cocked the right barrel and taken a
+quick aim, the bird was half way across the valley; but all the same he
+fired. For another second the bird continued its flight, but in a
+slightly irregular fashion; then down it went like a stone into the
+heather on the opposite side of the chasm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well done, sir!&quot; cried old Hamish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bravo!&quot; called out Macleod.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was a grand long shot!&quot; said Sandy, as he unslipped <a name="Page_112" id="Page_112" />the sagacious
+old retriever, and sent her down into the glen.</p>
+
+<p>They had scarcely spoken when another dark object, looking to the
+startled eye as if it were the size of a house, sprang from the heather
+close by, and went off like an arrow, uttering a succession of sharp
+crowings. Why did not he fire? Then they saw him in wild despair whip
+down the gun, full-cock the left barrel, and put it up again. The bird
+was just disappearing over a crest of rising ground, and as Ogilvie
+fired he disappeared altogether.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's down, sir!&quot; cried Hamish, in great excitement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think so,&quot; Ogilvie answered, with a doubtful air on his face,
+but with a bright gladness in his eyes all the same.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's down, sir,&quot; Hamish reasserted. &quot;Come away Sandy, with the dog!&quot; he
+shouted to the red-headed lad, who had gone down into the glen to help
+Nell in her researches. By this time they saw that Sandy was recrossing
+the burn with the grouse in his hand, Nell following him contentedly.
+They whistled, and again whistled; but Nell considered that her task had
+been accomplished, and alternately looked at them and up at her
+immediate master. However, the tall lad, probably considering that the
+whistling was meant as much for him as for the retriever, sprang up the
+side of the glen in a miraculous fashion, catching here and there by a
+bunch of heather or the stump of a young larch, and presently he had
+rejoined the party.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Take time, sir,&quot; said he. &quot;Take time. Maybe there is more of them about
+here. And the other one, I marked him down from the other side. We will
+get him ferry well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They found nothing, however, until they had got to the other side of the
+hill, where Nell speedily made herself mistress of the other bird&mdash;a
+fine young cock grouse, plump and in splendid plumage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what do you think of the morning now, Ogilvie?&quot; Macleod asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I dare say it will clear,&quot; said he, shyly; and he endeavored to
+make light of Hamish's assertions that they were &quot;ferry pretty
+shots&mdash;ferry good shots; and it was always a right thing to put
+cartridges in the barrels at the door of a house, for no one could tell
+what might be close to the house; and he was sure that Mr. Ogilvie had
+not forgotten the use of a gun since he went away from the hills to live
+in England.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But look here, Macleod,&quot; Mr. Ogilvie said; &quot;why did <a name="Page_113" id="Page_113" />not you fire
+yourself?&quot;&mdash;he was very properly surprised; for the most generous and
+self-denying of men are apt to claim their rights when a grouse gets up
+to their side.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said Macleod simply, &quot;I wanted you to have a shot.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And indeed all through the day he was obviously far more concerned about
+Ogilvie's shooting than his own. He took all the hardest work on
+himself&mdash;taking the outside beat, for example, if there was a bit of
+unpromising ground to be got over. When one or other of the dogs
+suddenly showed by its uplifted fore-paw, its rigid tail, and its slow,
+cautious, timid look round for help and encouragement, that there was
+something ahead of more importance than a lark, Macleod would run all
+the risks of waiting to give Ogilvie time to come up. If a hare ran
+across with any chance of coming within shot of Ogilvie, Macleod let her
+go by unscathed. And the young gentleman from the South knew enough
+about shooting to understand how he was being favored both by his host
+and&mdash;what was a more unlikely thing&mdash;by Hamish.</p>
+
+<p>He was shooting very well, too; and his spirits rose and rose until the
+lowering day was forgotten altogether.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are in for a soaker this time!&quot; he cried, quite cheerfully, looking
+around at one moment.</p>
+
+<p>All this lonely world of olive greens and browns had grown strangely
+dark. Even the hum of flies&mdash;the only sound audible in these high
+solitudes away from the sea&mdash;seemed stilled; and a cold wind began to
+blow over from Ben-an-Sloich. The plain of the valley in front of them
+began to fade from view; then they found themselves enveloped in a
+clammy fog, that settled on their clothes and hung about their eyelids
+and beard, while water began to run down the barrels of their guns. The
+wind blew harder and harder: presently they seemed to spring out of the
+darkness; and, turning, they found that the cloud had swept onward
+toward the sea, leaving the rocks on the nearest hillside all glittering
+wet in the brief burst of sunlight. It was but a glimmer. Heavier clouds
+came sweeping over; downright rain began to pour. But Ogilvie kept
+manfully to his work. He climbed over the stone walls, gripping on with
+his wet hands. He splashed through the boggy land, paying no attention
+to his footsteps. And at last he got to following Macleod's plan of
+crossing a burn, which was merely to wade through the foaming brown
+water instead of looking out for big stones. By this time the letters in
+his breast pocket were a mass of pulp.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_114" id="Page_114" />Look here, Macleod,&quot; said he, with the rain running down his face, &quot;I
+can't tell the difference between one bird and another. If I shoot a
+partridge it isn't my fault.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right,&quot; said Macleod. &quot;If a partridge is fool enough to be up here,
+it deserves it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Just at this moment Mr. Ogilvie suddenly threw up his hands and his gun,
+as if to protect his face. An extraordinary object&mdash;a winged object,
+apparently without a tail, a whirring bunch of loose gray feathers, a
+creature resembling no known fowl&mdash;had been put up by one of the dogs,
+and it had flown direct at Ogilvie's head. It passed him at about half a
+yard's distance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What in all the world is that?&quot; he cried, jumping round to have a look
+at it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why,&quot; said Macleod, who was roaring with laughter, &quot;it is a baby
+blackcock, just out of the shell, I should think.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A sudden noise behind him caused him to wheel round, and instinctively
+he put up his gun. He took it down again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is the old hen,&quot; said he; &quot;we'll leave her to look after her
+chicks. Hamish, get in the dogs, or they'll be for eating some of those
+young ones. And you, Sandy, where was it you left the basket? We will go
+for our splendid banquet now, Ogilvie.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That was an odd-looking party that by and by might have been seen
+crouching under the lee of a stone wall with a small brook running by
+their feet. They had taken down wet stones for seats; and these were
+somewhat insecurely fixed on the steep bank. But neither the rain, nor
+the gloom, nor the loneliness of the silent moors seemed to have damped
+their spirits much.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It really is awfully kind of you, Ogilvie,&quot; Macleod said, as he threw
+half a sandwich to the old black retriever, &quot;to take pity on a solitary
+fellow like myself. You can't tell how glad I was to see you on the
+bridge of the steamer. And now that you have taken all the trouble to
+come to this place, and have taken your chance of our poor shooting,
+this is the sort of day you get!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear fellow,&quot; said Mr. Ogilvie, who did not refuse to have his
+tumbler replenished by the attentive Hamish, &quot;it is quite the other way.
+I consider myself precious lucky. I consider the shooting firstrate; and
+it isn't every fellow would deliberately hand the whole thing over to
+his friend, as you have been doing all day. And I suppose bad weather is
+as bad elsewhere as it is here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115" />Macleod was carelessly filling his pipe, and obviously thinking of
+something very different.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Man, Ogilvie,&quot; he said, in a burst of confidence, &quot;I never knew before
+how fearfully lonely a life we lead here. If we were out on one of the
+Treshanish Islands, with nothing round us but skarts and gulls, we could
+scarcely be lonelier. And I have been thinking all the morning what this
+must look like to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He glanced round&mdash;at the sombre browns and greens of the solitary
+moorland, at the black rocks jutting out here and there from the scant
+grass, at the silent and gloomy hills and the overhanging clouds.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have been thinking of the beautiful places we saw in London, and the
+crowds of people, the constant change, and amusement, and life. And I
+shouldn't wonder if you packed up your traps to-morrow morning and
+fled.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear boy,&quot; observed Mr. Ogilvie, confidently, &quot;you are giving me
+credit for a vast amount of sentiment. I haven't got it. I don't know
+what it is. But I know when I am jolly well off. I know when I am in
+good quarters, with good shooting, and with a good sort of chap to go
+about with. As for London&mdash;bah! I rather think you got your eyes dazzled
+for a minute, Macleod. You weren't long enough there to find it out. And
+wouldn't you get precious tired of big dinners, and garden-parties, and
+all that stuff, after a time? Macleod, do you mean to tell me you ever
+saw anything at Lady Beauregard's as fine as <i>that?</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he pointed to a goodly show of birds, with a hare or two, that Sandy
+had taken out of the bag, so as to count them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course,&quot; said this wise young man, &quot;there is one case in which that
+London life is all very well. If a man is awful spoons on a girl, then,
+of course, he can trot after her from house to house, and walk his feet
+off in the Park. I remember a fellow saying a very clever thing about
+the reasons that took a man into society. What was it, now? Let me see.
+It was either to look out for a wife, or&mdash;or&mdash;&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Ogilvie was trying to recollect the epigram and to light a wax match
+at the same time, and he failed in both.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said he, &quot;I won't spoil it; but don't you believe that any one
+you met in London wouldn't be precious glad to change places with us at
+this moment?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Any one? What was the situation? Pouring rain, leaden skies, the gloomy
+solitude of the high moors, the sound of <a name="Page_116" id="Page_116" />roaring waters. And here they
+were crouching under a stone wall, with their dripping fingers lighting
+match after match for their damp pipes, with not a few midges in the
+moist and clammy air, and with a faint halo of steam plainly arising
+from the leather of their boots. When Fionaghal the Fair Stranger came
+from over the blue seas to her new home, was this the picture of
+Highland life that was presented to her?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lady Beauregard, for example?&quot; said Macleod.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I am not talking about women,&quot; observed the sagacious boy; &quot;I never
+could make out a woman's notions about any thing. I dare say they like
+London life well enough, for they can show off their shoulders and their
+diamonds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ogilvie,&quot; Macleod said, with a sudden earnestness, &quot;I am fretting my
+heart out here&mdash;that is the fact. If it were not for the poor old
+mother&mdash;and Janet&mdash;but I will tell you another time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He got up on his feet, and took his gun from Sandy. His
+companion&mdash;wondering not a little, but saying nothing&mdash;did likewise. Was
+this the man who had always seemed rather proud of his hard life on the
+hills? Who had regarded the idleness and effeminacy of town life with
+something of an unexpressed scorn? A young fellow in robust health and
+splendid spirits&mdash;an eager sportsman and an
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'acurate'">accurate</ins>
+ shot&mdash;out for his
+first shooting-day of the year: was it intelligible that he should be
+visited by vague sentimental regrets for London drawing-rooms and vapid
+talk? The getting up of a snipe interrupted these speculations; Ogilvie
+blazed away, missing with both barrels; Macleod, who had been patiently
+waiting to see the effect of the shots, then put up his gun, and
+presently the bird came tumbling down, some fifty yards off.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You haven't warmed to it yet,&quot; Macleod said, charitably. &quot;The first
+half hour after luncheon a man always shoots badly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Especially when his clothes are glued to his skin from head to foot,&quot;
+said Ogilvie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will soon walk some heat into yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And again they went on, Macleod pursuing the same tactics, so that his
+companion had the cream of the shooting. Despite the continued soaking
+rain, Ogilvie's spirits seemed to become more and more buoyant. He was
+shooting capitally; one very long shot he made, bringing down an old
+<a name="Page_117" id="Page_117" />blackcock with a thump on the heather, causing Hamish to exclaim,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well done, sir! It is a glass of whiskey you will deserve for that
+shot.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon Mr. Ogilvie stopped and modestly hinted that he would accept
+of at least a moiety of the proffered reward.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know, Hamish,&quot; said he, &quot;that it is the greatest comfort in the
+world to get wet right through, for you know you can't be worse, and it
+gives you no trouble.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And a whole glass will do you no harm, sir,&quot; shrewdly observed Hamish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not in the clouds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The what, sir?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The clouds. Don't you consider we are going shooting through clouds?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There will be a snipe or two down here, sir,&quot; said Hamish, moving on;
+for he could not understand conundrums, especially conundrums in
+English.</p>
+
+<p>The day remained of this moist character to the end; but they had plenty
+of sport, and they had a heavy bag on their return to Castle Dare.
+Macleod was rather silent on the way home. Ogilvie was still at a loss
+to know why his friend should have taken this sudden dislike to living
+in a place he had lived in all his life. Nor could he understand why
+Macleod should have deliberately surrendered to him the chance of
+bagging the brace of grouse that got up by the side of the road. It was
+scarcely, he considered, within the possibilities of human nature.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV" />CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+<h3>A CONFESSION.</h3>
+
+
+<p>And once again the big dining-hall of Castle Dare was ablaze with
+candles; and Janet was there, gravely listening to the garrulous talk of
+the boy-officer; and Keith Macleod, in his dress tartan; and the
+noble-looking old lady at the head of the table, who more than once
+expressed to her guest, in that sweetly modulated and gracious voice of
+hers, <a name="Page_118" id="Page_118" />how sorry she was he had encountered so bad a day for the first
+day of his visit.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is different with Keith,&quot; said she, &quot;for he is used to be out in all
+weathers. He has been brought up to live out of doors.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you know, auntie,&quot; said Janet Macleod, &quot;a soldier is much of the
+same thing. Did you ever hear of a soldier with an umbrella?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All I know is,&quot; remarked Mr. Ogilvie&mdash;who, in his smart evening dress,
+and with his face flashed into a rosy warmth after the cold and the wet,
+did not look particularly miserable&mdash;&quot;that I don't remember ever
+enjoying myself so much in one day. But the fact is, Lady Macleod, your
+son gave me all the shooting; and Hamish was sounding my praises all day
+long, so that I almost got to think I could shoot the birds without
+putting up the gun at all; and when I made a frightful bad miss,
+everybody declared the bird was dead round the other side of the hill.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And indeed you were not making many misses,&quot; Macleod said. &quot;But we will
+try your nerve, Ogilvie, with a stag or two, I hope.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am on for anything. What with Hamish's flattery and the luck I had
+to-day, I begin to believe I could bag a brace of tigers if they were
+coming at me fifty miles an hour.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Dinner over, and Donald having played his best (no doubt he had learned
+that the stranger was an officer in the Ninety-third), the ladies left
+the dining-hall, and presently Macleod proposed to his friend that they
+should go into the library and have a smoke. Ogilvie was nothing loath.
+They went into the odd little room, with its guns and rods and stuffed
+birds, and, lying prominently on the writing-table, a valuable little
+heap of dressed otter-skins. Although the night was scarcely cold enough
+to demand it, there was a log of wood burning in the fireplace; there
+were two easy-chairs, low and roomy; and on the mantelpiece were some
+glasses, and a big black broad-bottomed bottle, such as used to carry
+the still vintages of Champagne even into the remote wilds of the
+Highlands, before the art of making sparkling wines had been discovered.
+Mr. Ogilvie lit a cigar, stretched out his feet towards the blazing log,
+and rubbed his hands, which were not as white as usual.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are a lucky fellow, Macleod,&quot; said he, &quot;and you don't know it. You
+have everything about you here to make life enjoyable.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_119" id="Page_119" />And I feel like a slave tied to a galley oar,&quot; said he, quickly. &quot;I
+try to hide it from the mother&mdash;for it would break her heart&mdash;and from
+Janet too; but every morning I rise, the dismalness of being alone
+here&mdash;of being caged up alone&mdash;eats more and more into my heart. When I
+look at you, Ogilvie&mdash;to-morrow morning you could go spinning off to any
+quarter you liked, to see any one you wanted to see&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Macleod,&quot; said his companion, looking up, and yet speaking rather
+slowly and timidly, &quot;if I were to say what would naturally occur to any
+one&mdash;you won't be offended? What you have been telling me is absurd,
+unnatural, impossible, unless there is a woman in the case.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what then?&quot; Macleod said, quickly, as he regarded his friend with a
+watchful eye, &quot;You have guessed?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said the other: &quot;Gertrude White.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod was silent for a second or two. Then he sat down.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I scarcely care who knows it now,&quot; said he, absently &quot;so long as I
+can't fight it out of my own mind. I tried not to know it. I tried not
+to believe it. I argued with myself, laughed at myself, invented a
+hundred explanations of this cruel thing that was gnawing at my heart
+and giving me no peace night or day. Why, man, Ogilvie, I have read
+'Pendennis!' Would you think it possible that any one who has read
+'Pendennis' could ever fall in love with an actress?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He jumped to his feet again, walked up and down for a second or two,
+twisting the while a bit of casting-line round his finger so that it
+threatened to cut into the flesh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I will tell you now, Ogilvie&mdash;now that I am speaking to any one
+about it,&quot; said he&mdash;and he spoke in a rapid, deep, earnest voice,
+obviously not caring much what his companion might think, so that he
+could relieve his overburdened mind&mdash;&quot;that it was not any actress I fell
+in love with. I never saw her in a theatre but that once. I hated the
+theatre whenever I thought of her in it. I dared scarcely open a
+newspaper, lest I should see her name. I turned away from the posters in
+the streets: when I happened by some accident to see her publicly
+paraded that way, I shuddered all through&mdash;with shame, I think; and I
+got to look on her father as a sort of devil that had been allowed to
+drive about that beautiful creature in vile chains. Oh, I cannot tell
+you! When I have heard him talking away in that infernal, cold, precise
+way about her duties to her art, and <a name="Page_120" id="Page_120" />insisting that she should have no
+sentiments or feelings of her own, and that she should simply use every
+emotion as a bit of something to impose on the public&mdash;a bit of her
+trade, an exposure of her own feelings to make people clap their
+hands&mdash;I have sat still and wondered at myself that I did not jump up
+and catch him by the throat, and shake the life out of his miserable
+body.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have cut your hand, Macleod.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He shook a drop or two of blood off.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, Ogilvie, when I saw you on the bridge of the steamer, I nearly
+went mad with delight. I said to myself, 'Here is some one who has seen
+her and spoken to her, who will know when I tell him.' And now that I am
+telling you of it, Ogilvie, you will see&mdash;you will understand&mdash;that it
+is not any actress I have fallen in love with&mdash;it was not the
+fascination of an actress at all, but the fascination of the woman
+herself; the fascination of her voice, and her sweet ways, and the very
+way she walked, too, and the tenderness of her heart. There was a sort
+of wonder about her; whatever she did or said was so beautiful, and
+simple, and sweet! And day after day I said to myself that my interest
+in this beautiful woman was nothing. Some one told me there had been
+rumors: I laughed. Could any one suppose I was going to play Pendennis
+over again? And then as the time came for me to leave, I was glad, and I
+was miserable at the same time. I despised myself for being miserable.
+And then I said to myself, 'This stupid misery is only the fancy of a
+boy. Wait till you get back to Castle Dare, and the rough seas, and the
+hard work of the stalking. There is no sickness and sentiment on the
+side of Ben-an-Sloich.' And so I was glad to come to Castle Dare, and to
+see the old mother, and Janet, and Hamish; and the sound of the pipes,
+Ogilvie&mdash;when I heard them away in the steamer, that brought tears to my
+eyes; and I said to myself, 'Now you are at home again, and there will
+be no more nonsense of idle thinking.' And what has it come to? I would
+give everything I possess in the world to see her face once more&mdash;ay, to
+be in the same town where she is. I read the papers, trying to find out
+where she is. Morning and night it is the same&mdash;a fire, burning and
+burning, of impatience, and misery, and a craving just to see her face
+and hear her speak.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Ogilvie did not know what to say. There was something in this passionate
+confession&mdash;in the cry wrung from a strong <a name="Page_121" id="Page_121" />man, and in the rude
+eloquence that here and there burst from him&mdash;that altogether drove
+ordinary words of counsel or consolation out of the young man's mind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have been hard hit, Macleod,&quot; he said, with some earnestness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is just it,&quot; Macleod said, almost bitterly. &quot;You fire at a bird.
+You think you have missed him. He sails away as if there was nothing the
+matter, and the rest of the covey no doubt think he is as well as any
+one of them. But suddenly you see there is something wrong. He gets
+apart from the others; he towers; then down he comes, as dead as a
+stone. You did not guess anything of this in London?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Ogilvie, rather inclined to beat about the bush, &quot;I thought
+you were paying her a good deal of attention. But then&mdash;she is very
+popular, you know, and receives a good deal of attention; and&mdash;and the
+fact is, she is an uncommonly pretty girl, and I thought you were
+flirting a bit with her, but nothing more than that. I had no idea it
+was something more serious than that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay,&quot; Macleod said, &quot;if I myself had only known! If it was a plunge&mdash;as
+people talk about falling in love with a woman&mdash;why, the next morning I
+would have shaken myself free of it, as a Newfoundland dog shakes
+himself free of the water. But a fever, a madness, that slowly gains on
+you&mdash;and you look around and say it is nothing, but day after day it
+burns more and more. And it is no longer something that you can look at
+apart from yourself&mdash;it is your very self; and sometimes, Ogilvie, I
+wonder whether it is all true, or whether it is mad I am altogether.
+Newcastle&mdash;do you know Newcastle?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have passed through it, of course,&quot; his companion said, more and more
+amazed at the vehemence of his speech.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is there she is now&mdash;I have seen it in the papers; and it is
+Newcastle&mdash;Newcastle&mdash;Newcastle&mdash;I am thinking of from morning till
+night, and if I could only see one of the streets of it I should be
+glad. They say it is smoky and grimy; I should be breathing sunlight if
+I lived in the most squalid of all its houses. And they say she is going
+to Liverpool, and to Manchester, and to Leeds; and it is as if my very
+life were being drawn away from me. I try to think what people may be
+around her; I try to imagine what she is doing at a particular hour of
+the day; and I feel as if I were shut away in an island in the middle of
+the Atlantic, with <a name="Page_122" id="Page_122" />nothing but the sound of the waves around my ears.
+Ogilvie, it is enough to drive a man out of his senses.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, look here, Macleod,&quot; said Ogilvie, pulling himself together; for
+it was hard to resist the influence of this vehement and uncontrollable
+passion&mdash;&quot;look here, man; why don't you think of it in cold blood? Do
+you expect me to sympathize with you as a friend? Or would you like to
+know what any ordinary man of the world would think of the whole case?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't give me your advice, Ogilvie,&quot; said he, untwining and throwing
+away the bit of casting-line that had cut his finger. &quot;It is far beyond
+that. Let me talk to you&mdash;that is all. I should have gone mad in another
+week, if I had had no one to speak to; and as it is, what better am I
+than mad? It is not anything to be analyzed and cured: it is my very
+self; and what have I become?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But look here, Macleod&mdash;I want to ask you a question: would you marry
+her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The common-sense of the younger man was re-asserting itself. This was
+what any one&mdash;looking at the whole situation from the Aldershot point of
+view&mdash;would at the outset demand? But if Macleod had known all that was
+implied in the question, it is probable that a friendship that had
+existed from boyhood would then and there have been severed. He took it
+that Ogilvie was merely referring to the thousand and one obstacles that
+lay between him and that obvious and natural goal.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Marry her!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;Yes, you are right to look at it in that
+way&mdash;to think of what it will all lead to. When I look forward, I see
+nothing but a maze of impossibilities and trouble. One might as well
+have fallen in love with one of the Roman maidens in the Temple of
+Vesta. She is a white slave. She is a sacrifice to the monstrous
+theories of that bloodless old pagan, her father. And then she is
+courted and flattered on all sides; she lives in a smoke of incense: do
+you think, even supposing that all other difficulties were removed&mdash;that
+she cared for no one else, that she were to care for me, that the
+influence of her father was gone&mdash;do you think she would surrender all
+the admiration she provokes and the excitement of the life she leads, to
+come and live in a dungeon in the Highlands? A single day like to-day
+would kill her, she is so fine and delicate&mdash;like a rose leaf, I have
+often thought. No, no, Ogilvie, I have thought of it every way. It is
+like a riddle that you <a name="Page_123" id="Page_123" />twist and twist about to try and get the answer;
+and I can get no answer at all, unless wishing that I had never been
+born. And perhaps that would have been better.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You take too gloomy a view of it, Macleod,&quot; said Ogilvie. &quot;For one
+thing, look at the common-sense of the matter. Suppose that she is very
+ambitious to succeed in her profession, that is all very well; but, mind
+you, it is a very hard life. And if you put before her the chance of
+being styled Lady Macleod&mdash;well, I may be wrong, but I should say that
+would count for something. I haven't known many actresses myself&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is idle talk,&quot; Macleod said; and then he added, proudly, &quot;You do
+not know this woman as I know her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He put aside his pipe; but in truth he had never lit it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come,&quot; said he, with a tired look, &quot;I have bored you enough. You won't
+mind, Ogilvie? The whole of the day I was saying to myself that I would
+keep all this thing to myself, if my heart burst over it; but you see I
+could not do it, and I have made you the victim, after all. And we will
+go into the drawing-room now; and we will have a song. And that was a
+very good song you sang one night in London, Ogilvie&mdash;it was about
+'Death's black wine'&mdash;and do you think you could sing us that song
+to-night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Ogilvie looked at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know what you mean by the way you are talking, Macleod,&quot; said
+he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said he, with a laugh that did not sound quite natural, &quot;have you
+forgotten it? Well, then, Janet will sing us another song&mdash;that is,
+'Farewell, Manchester.' And we will go to bed soon to-night, for I have
+not been having much sleep lately. But it is a good song&mdash;it is a song
+you do not easily forget&mdash;that about 'Death's black wine.'&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI" />CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<h3>REBELLION.</h3>
+
+
+<p>And where was she now&mdash;that strange creature who had bewildered and
+blinded his eyes and so sorely stricken his heart? It was, perhaps, not
+the least part of his trouble <a name="Page_124" id="Page_124" />that all his passionate yearning to see
+her, and all his thinking about her and the scenes in which he had met
+her, seemed unable to conjure up any satisfactory vision of her. The
+longing of his heart went out from him to meet&mdash;a phantom. She appeared
+before him in a hundred shapes, now one, now the other; but all
+possessed with a terrible fascination from which it was in vain for him
+to try to flee.</p>
+
+<p>Which was she, then&mdash;the pale, and sensitive, and thoughtful-eyed girl
+who listened with such intense interest to the gloomy tales of the
+Northern seas; who was so fine, and perfect, and delicate; who walked so
+gracefully and smiled so sweetly; the timid and gentle companion and
+friend?</p>
+
+<p>Or the wild coquette, with her arch, shy ways, and her serious laughing,
+and her befooling of the poor stupid lover? He could hear her laugh now;
+he could see her feed her canary from her own lips. Where was the old
+mother whom that madcap girl teased and petted and delighted?</p>
+
+<p>Or was not this she&mdash;the calm and gracious woman who received as a
+matter of right the multitude of attentions that all men&mdash;and women
+too&mdash;were glad to pay her? The air fine about her; the south winds
+fanning her cheek; the day long, and balmy, and clear. The white-sailed
+boats glide slowly through the water; there is a sound of music and of
+gentle talk; a butterfly comes fluttering over the blue summer seas. And
+then there is a murmuring refrain in the lapping of the waves: <i>Rose
+Leaf! Rose Leaf! what faint wind will carry you away to the south?</i></p>
+
+<p>Or this audacious Duchess of Devonshire, with the flashing black eyes,
+and a saucy smile on her lips? She knows that every one regards her; but
+what of that? Away she goes through the brilliant throng with that young
+Highland officer, with glowing light and gay costumes and joyous music
+all around her. What do you think of her, you poor clown, standing all
+alone and melancholy, with your cap and bells? Has she pierced your
+heart too with a flash of the saucy black eyes?</p>
+
+<p>But there is still another vision; and perhaps this solitary dreamer,
+who has no eyes for the great slopes of Ben-an-Sloich that stretch into
+the clouds, and no ears for the soft calling of the sea-birds as they
+wheel over his head, tries hardest to fix this one in his memory. Here
+she is the neat and watchful house-mistress, with all things bright and
+shining around her; and she appears, too, as the meek daughter <a name="Page_125" id="Page_125" />and the
+kind and caressing sister. Is it not hard that she should be torn from
+this quiet little haven of domestic duties and family affection to be
+bound hand and foot in the chains of art, and flung into the arena to
+amuse that great ghoul-faced thing, the public? The white slave does not
+complain. While as yet she may, she presides over the cheerful table;
+and the beautiful small hands are helpful, and that light morning
+costume is a wonder of simplicity and grace. And then the garden, and
+the soft summer air, and the pretty ways of the two sisters: why should
+not this simple, homely, beautiful life last forever, if only the summer
+and the roses would last forever?</p>
+
+<p>But suppose now that we turn aside from these fanciful pictures of
+Macleod's and take a more commonplace one of which he could have no
+notion whatever. It is night&mdash;a wet and dismal night&mdash;and a four-wheeled
+cab is jolting along through the dark and almost deserted thoroughfares
+of Manchester. Miss Gertrude White is in the cab, and the truth is that
+she is in a thorough bad temper. Whether it was that the unseemly
+scuffle that took place in the gallery during the performance, or
+whether it is that the streets of Manchester, in the midst of rain and
+after midnight are not inspiriting, or whether it is merely that she has
+got a headache, it is certain that Miss White is in an ill-humor, and
+that she has not spoken a word to her maid, her only companion, since
+together they left the theatre. At length the cab stops opposite a
+hotel, which is apparently closed for the night. They get out, cross the
+muddy pavements under the glare of a gas-lamp; after some delay get into
+the hotel; pass through a dimly lit and empty corridor; and then Miss
+White bids her maid good-night and opens the door of a small parlor.</p>
+
+<p>Here there is a more cheerful scene. There is a fire in the room; and
+there is supper laid on the table; while Mr. Septimus White, with his
+feet on the fender and his back turned to the lamp, is seated in an
+easy-chair, and holding up a book to the light so that the pages almost
+touch his gold-rimmed spectacles. Miss White sits down on the sofa on
+the dark side of the room. She has made no response to his greeting of
+&quot;Well, Gerty?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At length Mr. White becomes aware that his daughter is sitting there
+with her things on, and he turns from his book to her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Gerty,&quot; he repeats, &quot;aren't you going to have some supper?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_126" id="Page_126" />No, thank you,&quot; she says.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come, come,&quot; he remonstrates, &quot;that won't do. You must have some
+supper. Shall Jane get you a cup of tea?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't suppose there is any one up below; besides, I don't want it,&quot;
+says Miss White, rather wearily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is the matter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing,&quot; she answers; and then she looks at the mantelpiece. &quot;No
+letter from Carry?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I hope you won't make her an actress, papa,&quot; observes Miss White,
+with no relevance, but with considerable sharpness in her tone.</p>
+
+<p>In fact, this remark was so unexpected and uncalled-for that Mr. White
+suddenly put his book down on his knee, and turned his gold spectacles
+full on his daughter's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will beg you to remember, Gerty,&quot; he remarked, with some dignity,
+&quot;that I did not make you an actress, if that is what you imply. If it
+had not been entirely your wish, I should never have encouraged you; and
+I think it shows great ingratitude, not only to me but to the public
+also, that when you have succeeded in obtaining a position such as any
+woman in the country might envy, you treat your good fortune with
+indifference, and show nothing but discontent. I cannot tell what has
+come over you of late. You ought certainly to be the last to say
+anything against a profession that has gained for you such a large share
+of public favor&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Public favor!&quot; she said, with a bitter laugh. &quot;Who is the favorite of
+the public in this very town? Why, the girl who plays in that farce&mdash;who
+smokes a cigarette, and walks round the stage like a man, and dances a
+breakdown. Why wasn't I taught to dance breakdowns?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her father was deeply vexed; for this was not the first time she had
+dropped small rebellious hints. And if this feeling grew, she might come
+to question his most cherished theories.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should think you were jealous of that girl,&quot; said he, petulantly, &quot;if
+it were not too ridiculous. You ought to remember that she is an
+established favorite here. She has amused these people year after year;
+they look on her as an old friend; they are grateful to her. The means
+she uses to make people laugh may not meet with your approval; but she
+knows her own business, doubtless; and she succeeds in her own way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_127" id="Page_127" />Ah, well,&quot; said Miss White, as she put aside her bonnet, &quot;I hope you
+won't bring up Carry to this sort of life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To what sort of life?&quot; her father exclaimed, angrily. &quot;Haven't you
+everything that can make life pleasant? I don't know what more you want.
+You have not a single care. You are petted and caressed wherever you go.
+And you ought to have the delight of knowing that the further you
+advance in your art the further rewards are in store for you. The way is
+clear before you. You have youth and strength; and the public is only
+too anxious to applaud whatever you undertake. And yet you complain of
+your manner of life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It isn't the life of a human being at all,&quot; she said, boldly&mdash;but
+perhaps it was only her headache, or her weariness, or her ill-humor,
+that drove her to this rebellion; &quot;it is the cutting one's self off from
+everything that makes life worth having. It is a continual
+degradation&mdash;the exhibition of feelings that ought to be a woman's most
+sacred and secret possession. And what will the end of it be? Already I
+begin to think I don't know what I am. I have to sympathize with so many
+characters&mdash;I have to be so many different people&mdash;that I don't quite
+know what my own character is, or if I have any at all&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her father was staring at her in amazement. What had led her into these
+fantastic notions? While she was professing that her ambition to become
+a great and famous actress was the one ruling thought and object of her
+life, was she really envying the poor domestic drudge whom she saw
+coming to the theatre to enjoy herself with her fool of a husband,
+having withdrawn for an hour or two from her housekeeping books and her
+squalling children? At all events, Miss White left him in no doubt as to
+her sentiments at that precise moment. She talked rapidly, and with a
+good deal of bitter feeling; but it was quite obvious, from the
+clearness of her line of contention, that she had been thinking over the
+matter. And while it was all a prayer that her sister Carry might be
+left to live a natural life, and that she should not be compelled to
+exhibit, for gain or applause, emotions which a woman would naturally
+lock up in her own heart, it was also a bitter protest against her own
+lot. What was she to become, she asked? A dram-drinker of fictitious
+sentiment? A Ten-minutes' Emotionalist? It was this last phrase that
+flashed in a new light on her father's bewildered mind. He remembered it
+instantly. So that was the source of inoperation?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_128" id="Page_128" />Oh, I see now,&quot; he said, with angry scorn. &quot;You have learned your
+lesson well. A 'Ten-minutes' Emotionalist:' I remember. I was wondering
+who had put such stuff into your head.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She colored deeply, but said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And so you are taking your notion, as to what sort of life you would
+lead, from a Highland savage&mdash;a boor whose only occupations are eating
+and drinking and killing wild animals. A fine guide, truly! He has had
+so much experience in &aelig;sthetic matters! Or is it <i>metapheesics</i> is his
+hobby? And what, pray, is his notion as to what life should be? that the
+noblest object of a man's ambition should be to kill a stag? It was a
+mistake for Dante to let his work eat into his heart; he should have
+devoted himself to shooting rabbits. And Raphael&mdash;don't you think he
+would have improved his digestion by giving up pandering to the public
+taste for pretty things, and taking to hunting wild-boars? that is the
+theory, isn't it? Is that the <i>metapheesics</i> you have learned?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may talk about it,&quot; she said, rather humbly&mdash;for she knew very well
+she could not stand against her father in argument, especially on a
+subject that he rather prided himself on having mastered&mdash;&quot;but you are
+not a woman, and you don't know what a woman feels about such things.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And since when have you made the discovery? What has happened to
+convince you so suddenly that your professional life is a degradation?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; she said, carelessly, &quot;I was scarcely thinking of myself. Of
+course I know what lies before me. It was about Carry I spoke to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Carry shall decide for herself, as you did; and when she has done so, I
+hope she won't come and blame me the first time she gets some ridiculous
+idea into her head.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, papa, that isn't fair,&quot; the eldest sister said, in a gentler
+voice. &quot;You know I never blamed you. I only showed you that even a
+popular actress sometimes remembers that she is a woman. And if she is a
+woman, you must let her have a grumble occasionally.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This conciliatory tone smoothed the matter down at once; and Mr. White
+turned to his book with another recommendation to his daughter to take
+some supper and get to bed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will go now,&quot; she said, rather wearily, as she rose. &quot;Good-night,
+papa&mdash;What is that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She was looking at a parcel that lay on a chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It came for you, to-night. There was seven and six<a name="Page_129" id="Page_129" />pence to pay for
+extra carriage&mdash;it seems to have been forwarded from place to place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As if I had not enough luggage to carry about with me!&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>But she proceeded to open the parcel all the same, which seemed to be
+very carefully swathed in repeated covers of canvas. And presently she
+uttered a slight exclamation. She took up one dark object after another,
+passing her hand over them, and back again, and finally pressing them to
+her cheek.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just look at these, papa&mdash;did you ever in all your life see anything so
+beautiful?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She came to a letter, too; which she hastily tore open and read. It was
+a brief note, in terms of great respect, written by Sir Keith Macleod,
+and begging Miss White's acceptance of a small parcel of otter-skins,
+which he hoped might be made into some article of attire. Moreover, he
+had asked his cousin's advice on the matter; and she thought there were
+enough; but if Miss White, on further inquiry, found she would rather
+have one or two more, he had no doubt that within the next month or so
+he could obtain these also. It was a very respectful note.</p>
+
+<p>But there was no shyness or timidity about the manner of Miss White when
+she spread those skins out along the sofa, and again and again took them
+up to praise their extraordinary glossiness and softness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Papa,&quot; she exclaimed, &quot;it is a present fit for a prince to make!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I dare say you will find them useful.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And whatever is made of them,&quot; said she, with decision, &quot;that I shall
+keep for myself&mdash;it won't be one of my stage properties.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her spirits rose wonderfully. She kept on chatting to her father about
+these lovely skins, and the jacket she would have of them. She asked why
+he was so dull that evening. She protested that she would not take any
+supper unless he had some too: whereupon he had a biscuit and a glass of
+claret, which, at all events, compelled him to lay aside his book. And
+then, when she had finished her supper, she suddenly said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, Pappy dear, I am going to tell you a great secret. I am going to
+change the song in the second act.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense!&quot; said he; but he was rather glad to see her come back to the
+interest of her work.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_130" id="Page_130" />I am,&quot; she said, seriously. &quot;Would you like to hear it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will wake the house up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if the public expect an actress to please them,&quot; she said, saucily,
+&quot;they must take the consequences of her practising.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She went to the piano, and opened it. There was a fine courage in her
+manner as she struck the chords and sang the opening lines of the gay
+song:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&quot;'Threescore o' nobles rode up the King's ha'<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But bonnie Glenogie's the flower of them a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Wi' his milk-white steed and his bonnie black e'e.'&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&mdash;but here her voice dropped, and it was almost in a whisper that she
+let the maiden of the song utter the secret wish of her heart&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;'<i>Glenogie, dear mither, Glenogie for me</i>.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course,&quot; she said, turning round to her father, and speaking in a
+business-like way, though there was a spice of proud mischief in her
+eyes, &quot;There is a stumbling-block, or where would the story be! Glenogie
+is poor; the mother will not let her daughter have anything to do with
+him; the girl takes to her bed with the definite intention of dying.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She turned to the piano again.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&quot;'There is, Glenogie, a letter for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh, there is, Glenogie, a letter for thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The first line he looked at, a light laugh laughed he;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But ere he read through it, tears blinded his e'e.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you like the air, papa?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. White did not seem over well pleased. He was quite aware that his
+daughter was a very clever young woman; and he did not know what insane
+idea might have got into her head of throwing an allegory at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The air,&quot; said he, coldly, &quot;is well enough. But I hope you don't expect
+an English audience to understand that doggerel Scotch.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Glenogie understand it, any way,&quot; said she, blithely, &quot;and naturally he
+rode off at once to see his dying sweetheart.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&quot;'Pale and wan was she, when Glenogie gaed ben,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But rosy-red grew she when Glenogie sat down.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She turned away her head, but the smile was in her e'e,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><i>Oh, binna feared, mither, I'll maybe no dee</i>.'&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131" />She shut the piano.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Isn't it charmingly simple and tender, papa?&quot; she said, with the same
+mischief in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think it is foolish of you to think of exchanging that piece of
+doggerel&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For what?&quot; said she, standing in the middle of the room. &quot;For this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And therewith she sang these lines&mdash;giving an admirable burlesque
+imitation of herself, and her own gestures, and her own singing in the
+part she was then performing:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&quot;The morning bells are swinging, ringing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Hail to the day!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The birds are winging, singing<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To the golden day&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To the joyous day&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The morning bells are swinging, ringing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And what do they say?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O bring my love to my love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O bring my love to-day!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O bring my love to my love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To be my love alway!'&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It certainly was cruel to treat poor Mrs. Ross's home-made lyrics so;
+but Miss White was burlesquing herself as well as the song she had to
+sing. And as her father did not know to what lengths this iconoclastic
+fit might lead her, he abruptly bade her good-night and went to bed, no
+doubt hoping that next morning would find the demon exorcised from his
+daughter.</p>
+
+<p>As for her, she had one more loving look over the skins, and then she
+carefully read through the note that accompanied them. There was a smile
+on her face&mdash;perhaps of pleasure, perhaps of amusement at the simplicity
+of the lines. However, she turned aside, and got hold of a small
+writing-desk, which she placed on the table.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;'Oh, here is, Glenogie, a letter for thee,'&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>she hummed to herself, with a rather proud look on her face, as she
+seated herself and opened the desk.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII" /><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132" />CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>&quot;FHIR A BHATA!&quot;</h3>
+
+
+<p>Young Ogilvie had obtained some brief extension of his leave, but even
+that was drawing to a close; and Macleod saw with a secret dread that
+the hour of his departure was fast approaching. And yet he had not
+victimized the young man. After that first burst of confidence he had
+been sparing in his references to the trouble that had beset him. Of
+what avail, besides, could Mr. Ogilvie's counsels be? Once or twice he
+had ventured to approach the subject with some commonplace assurances
+that there were always difficulties in the way of two people getting
+married, and that they had to be overcome with patience and courage. The
+difficulties that Macleod knew of as between himself and that impossible
+goal were deeper than any mere obtaining of the consent of friends or
+the arrangement of a way of living. From the moment that the terrible
+truth was forced on him he had never regarded his case but as quite
+hopeless; and yet that in no way moderated his consuming desire to see
+her&mdash;to hear her speak&mdash;even to have correspondence with her. It was
+something that he could send her a parcel of otter-skins.</p>
+
+<p>But all the same Mr. Ogilvie was in some measure a friend of hers. He
+knew her&mdash;he had spoken to her&mdash;no doubt when he returned to the South
+he would see her one day or another, and he would surely speak of the
+visit he had paid to Castle Dare. Macleod set about making that visit as
+pleasant as might be, and the weather aided him. The fair heavens shone
+over the windy blue seas; and the green island of Ulva lay basking in
+the sunlight, and as the old <i>Umpire</i>, with her heavy bows parting the
+rushing waves, carried them out to the west, they could see the black
+skarts standing on the rocks of Gometra, and clouds of puffins wheeling
+round the dark and lonely pillars of Staffa; while away in the north, as
+they got clear of Treshanish Point, the mountains of Rum and of Skye
+appeared a pale and spectral blue, like ghostly shadows at the horizon.
+And there was no end to the sports and pastimes that occupied day after
+day. On their first ex<a name="Page_133" id="Page_133" />pedition up the lonely corries of Ben-an-Sloich
+young Ogilvie brought down a royal hart&mdash;though his hand trembled for
+ten minutes after he pulled the trigger. They shot wild duck in Loch
+Scridain, and seals in Loch-na-Keal, and rock-pigeons along the face of
+the honey-combed cliffs of Gribun. And what was this new form of sport?
+They were one day being pulled in the gig up a shallow loch in the hope
+of finding a brood or two of young mergansers, when Macleod, who was
+seated up at the bow, suddenly called to the man to stop. He beckoned to
+Ogilvie, who went forward and saw, quietly moving over the sea-weed, a
+hideously ugly fish with the flat head and sinister eyes of a snake.
+Macleod picked up the boat-hook, steadied himself in the boat, and then
+drove the iron spike down.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have him,&quot; he said. &quot;That is the snake of the sea&mdash;I hate him as I
+hate a serpent.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He hoisted out of the water the dead dog-fish, which was about four feet
+long, and then shook it back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here, Ogilvie,&quot; said he, &quot;take the boat-hook. There are plenty about
+here. Make yourself St. Patrick exterminating snakes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Ogilvie tried the dog-fish spearing with more or less success; but it
+was the means of procuring for him a bitter disappointment. As they went
+quietly over the sea-weed&mdash;the keel of the boat hissing through it and
+occasionally grating on the sand&mdash;they perceived that the water was
+getting a bit deeper, and it was almost
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'imposssible'">impossible</ins>
+ to strike the
+boat-hook straight. At this moment, Ogilvie, happening to cast a glance
+along the rocks close by them, started and seized Macleod's arm. What
+the frightened eyes of the younger man seemed to see was a great white
+and gray object lying on the rocks, and staring at him with huge black
+eyes. At first it almost appeared to him to be a man with a grizzled and
+hairy face; then he tried to think of some white beast with big black
+eyes; then he knew. For the next second there was an unwieldy roll down
+the rocks, and then a heavy splash in the water; and the huge gray seal
+had disappeared. And there he stood helpless, with the boat-hook in his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is my usual luck,&quot; said he, in despair. &quot;If I had had my rifle in my
+hand, we should never have got within a hundred yards of the beast. But
+I got an awful fright. I never before saw a live seal just in front of
+one's nose like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You would have missed him,&quot; said Macleod, coolly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_134" id="Page_134" />At a dozen yards?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes. When you come on one so near as that, you are too startled to take
+aim. You would have blazed away and missed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think so,&quot; said Ogilvie, with some modest persistence. &quot;When I
+shot that stag, I was steady enough, though I felt my heart thumping
+away like fun.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There you had plenty of time to take your aim&mdash;and a rock to rest your
+rifle on.&quot; And then he added: &quot;You would have broken Hamish's heart,
+Ogilvie, if you had missed that stag. He was quite determined you should
+have one on your first day out; and I never saw him take such elaborate
+precautions before. I suppose it was terribly tedious to you; but you
+may depend on it it was necessary. There isn't one of the younger men
+can match Hamish, though he was bred a sailor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; Mr. Ogilvie admitted, &quot;I began to think we were having a great
+deal of trouble for nothing; especially when it seemed as though the
+wind were blowing half a dozen ways in the one valley.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, man,&quot; Macleod said, &quot;Hamish knows every one of those eddies just
+as if they were all down on a chart. And he is very determined, too, you
+shall have another stag before you go, Ogilvie; for it is not much
+amusement we have been giving you since you came to us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is why I feel so particularly jolly at the notion of having to go
+back,&quot; said Mr. Ogilvie, with very much the air of a schoolboy at the
+end of his holiday. &quot;The day after to-morrow, too!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To-morrow, then, we will try to get a stag for you; and the day after
+you can spend what time you can at the pools in Glen Muick.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>These last two days were right royal days for the guest at Castle Dare.
+On the deer-stalking expedition Macleod simply refused to take his rifle
+with him and spent all his time in whispered consultations with Hamish,
+and with eager watching of every bird whose solitary flight along the
+mountain-side might startle the wary hinds. After a long day of patient
+and stealthy creeping, and walking through bogs and streams, and slow
+toiling up rocky slopes, the party returned home in the evening; and
+when it was found that a splendid stag&mdash;with brow, bay, and tray, and
+crockets complete&mdash;was strapped on to the pony, and when the word was
+passed that Sandy the red-haired and John from the yacht <a name="Page_135" id="Page_135" />were to take
+back the pony to a certain well-known cairn where another monarch of the
+hills lay slain, there was a great rejoicing through Castle Dare, and
+Lady Macleod herself must needs come out to shake hands with her guest,
+and to congratulate him on his good fortune.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is little we have been able to do to entertain you,&quot; said the old
+silver-haired lady, &quot;but I am glad you have got a stag or two.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew what Highland hospitality was before I came to Castle Dare,&quot;
+said the boy, modestly. &quot;But you have been kinder to me even than
+anything I knew before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you will leave the heads with Hamish,&quot; said she, &quot;and we will send
+them to Glasgow to be mounted for you, and then we will send them South
+to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed no,&quot; said he (though he was thinking to himself that it was no
+wonder the Macleods of Dare were poor); &quot;I will not put you to any such
+trouble. I will make my own arrangements with Hamish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you will tell him not to forget Aldershot.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think, Lady Macleod,&quot; said the young lieutenant, &quot;that my
+mess-companions will be sorry to hear that I have left Dare. I should
+think they ought to have drunk your health many times ere now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Next day, moreover, he was equally successful by the side of the deep
+brown pools in Glen Muick. He was a pretty fair fisherman, though he had
+had but small experience with such a mighty engine of a rod as Hamish
+put into his hands. When, however, he showed Hamish the fine assortment
+of salmon flies he had brought with him, the old man only shook his
+head. Thereafter, whenever Hamish went with him, nothing was said about
+flies until they neared the side of the brawling stream that came
+pouring down between the gray rocks and the patches of moist brown moor.
+Hamish would sit down on a stone, and take out a tin box and open it.
+Then he would take a quick look round&mdash;at the aspect of the clouds, the
+direction of the wind, and so forth; and then, with a nimbleness that
+any one looking at his rough hands and broad thumbs would have
+considered impossible, would busk up a weapon of capture that soon
+showed itself to be deadly enough. And on this last day of Ogilvie's
+stay at Castle Dare he was unusually lucky&mdash;though of course there were
+one or two heartrending mishaps. As they walked home in the evening&mdash;the
+lowering day had cleared away into a warm sunset, and they could see
+Colonsay, and Fladda, <a name="Page_136" id="Page_136" />and the Dutchman's Cap, lying dark and purple on
+a golden sea&mdash;Ogilvie said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here, Macleod, if you would like me to take one of these salmon
+for Miss White, I could take it as part of my luggage, and have it
+delivered at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That would be no use,&quot; said he, rather gloomily. &quot;She is not in London.
+She is at Liverpool or Manchester by this time. I have already sent her
+a present.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Ogilvie did not think fit to ask what; though he had guessed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was a parcel of otter-skins,&quot; Macleod said. &quot;You see, you might
+present that to any lady&mdash;it is merely a curiosity of the district&mdash;it
+is no more than if an acquaintance were to give me a chip of quartz he
+had brought from the Rocky Mountains with a few grains of copper or
+silver in it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a present any lady would be glad to have,&quot; observed Mr. Ogilvie,
+with a smile. &quot;Has she got them yet?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not know,&quot; Macleod answered. &quot;Perhaps there is not time for an
+answer. Perhaps she has forgotten who I am, and is affronted at a
+stranger sending her a present.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Forgotten who you are!&quot; Ogilvie exclaimed; and then he looked round to
+see that Hamish and Sandy the red-haired were at a convenient distance.
+&quot;Do you know this, Macleod? A man never yet was in love with a woman
+without the woman being instantly aware of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod glanced at him quickly; then turned away his head again,
+apparently watching the gulls wheeling high over the sea&mdash;black spots
+against the glow of the sunset.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is foolishness,&quot; said he. &quot;I had a great care to be quite a
+stranger to her all the time I was in London. I myself scarcely
+knew&mdash;how could she know? Sometimes I thought I was rude to her, so that
+I should deceive myself into believing she was only a stranger.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he remembered one fact, and his downright honesty made him speak
+again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One night, it is true,&quot; said he&mdash;&quot;it was the last night of my being in
+London&mdash;I asked a flower from her. She gave it to me. She was laughing
+at the time. That was all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sunset had gone away, and the clear northern twilight was fading
+too, when young Ogilvie, having bade good-bye to Lady Macleod and her
+niece Janet, got into the broad-beamed boat of the fishermen,
+accompanied by his friend. There was something of a breeze, and they
+hoisted a lugsail <a name="Page_137" id="Page_137" />so that they should run out to meet the steamer.
+Donald the piper lad was not with them; Macleod wanted to speak to his
+friend Ogilvie as he was leaving.</p>
+
+<p>And yet he did not say anything of importance. He seemed to be chiefly
+interested in finding out whether Ogilvie could not get a few days'
+leave, about Christmas, that he might come up and try the winter
+shooting. He was giving minute particulars about the use of arsenic
+paste when the box of skins to be despatched by Hamish reached London;
+and he was discussing what sort of mounting should be put on a strange
+old bottle that Janet Macleod had presented to the departing guest.
+There was no word of that which lay nearest his heart.</p>
+
+<p>And so the black waves rolled by them; and the light at the horizon
+began to fade; and the stars were coming out one by one; while the two
+sailors forward (for Macleod was steering) were singing to themselves:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i25">&quot;<i>Fhir a bhata (na horo eile)</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i3"><i>Fhir a bhata (na horo eile)</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i3"><i>Fhir a bhata (na horo eile)</i><br /></span>
+<span><i>Chead soire slann leid ge thobh a theid u!</i>&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>that is to say,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i75">&quot;O Boatman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And Boatman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And Boatman,<br /></span>
+<span>A hundred farewells to you wherever you may go!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And then the lugsail was hauled down, and they lay on the lapping water;
+and they could hear all around them the soft callings of the guillemots
+and razor-bills, and other divers whose home is the heaving wave. And
+then the great steamer came up and slowed; and the boat was hauled
+alongside and young Ogilvie sprang up the slippery steps.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-bye, Macleod!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-bye, Ogilvie! Come up at Christmas.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The great bulk of the steamer soon floated away, and the lugsail was run
+up again, and the boat made slowly back for Castle Dare. &quot;Fhir a bhata!&quot;
+the men sung; but Macleod scarcely heard them. His last tie with the
+South had been broken.</p>
+
+<p>But not quite. It was about ten o'clock that night that word came to
+Castle Dare that Dugald the Post had met with an accident that morning
+while starting from Bunessan; and that his place had been taken by a
+young lad who had but <a name="Page_138" id="Page_138" />now arrived with the bag. Macleod hastily looked
+over the bundle of newspapers, etc., they brought him and his eager eyes
+fell on an envelope, the writing on which made his heart jump.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Give the lad a half-crown,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>And then he went to his own room. He had the letter in his hand; and he
+knew the handwriting: but there was no wind of the night that could
+bring him the mystic message she had sent with it:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;<i>Oh, here is, Glenogie, a letter for thee!</i>&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII" />CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>CONFIDENCES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>For a second or two he held the letter in his hand, regarding the
+outside of it; and it was with more deliberation than haste that he
+opened it. Perhaps it was with some little tremor of fear&mdash;lest the
+first words that should meet his eye might be cruelly cold and distant.
+What right had he to expect anything else? Many a time, in thinking
+carefully over the past, he had recalled the words&mdash;the very tone&mdash;in
+which he had addressed her, and had been dismayed to think of their
+reserve, which had on one or two occasions almost amounted to austerity.
+He could expect little beyond a formal acknowledgment of the receiving
+of his letter, and the present that had accompanied it.</p>
+
+<p>Imagine, then, his surprise when he took out from the envelope a number
+of sheets closely written over in her beautiful, small, neat hand.
+Hastily his eye ran over the first few lines; and then surprise gave way
+to a singular feeling of gratitude and joy. Was it indeed she who was
+writing to him thus? When he had been thinking of her as some one far
+away and unapproachable&mdash;who could have no thought of him or of the too
+brief time in which he had been near to her&mdash;had she indeed been
+treasuring up some recollection that she now seemed disposed to value?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will guess that I am woman enough,&quot; she wrote, &quot;to be greatly
+pleased and flattered by your sending me such <a name="Page_139" id="Page_139" />a beautiful present; but
+you must believe me when I say that its chief value to me was its
+showing me that I had another friend in the world who was not disposed
+to forget me the next day after bidding me good-bye. Perhaps you will
+say that I am cynical; but actresses are accustomed to find the
+friendships they make&mdash;outside the sphere of their own profession&mdash;of a
+singularly temporary character. We are praised and flattered to-day, and
+forgotten to-morrow. I don't complain. It is only natural. People go
+away to their own families and home occupations; why should they
+remember a person who has amused them for an hour?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Gertrude White could, when she chose, write a clever and
+interesting letter&mdash;interesting from its very simplicity and frankness;
+and as Macleod read on and on, he ceased to feel any wonder that this
+young lady should be placing before him such ample revelations of her
+experiences and opinions. Indeed, it was more than suggested in this
+confidential chat that Sir Keith Macleod himself had been the first
+cause of her having carefully studied her own position, and the
+influence likely to be exerted on her by her present mode of life.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One meets with the harsher realities of an actress's life,&quot; she said,
+&quot;in the provinces. It is all very fine in London, when all the friends
+you happen to have are in town, and where there is constant amusement,
+and pleasant parties, and nice people to meet; and then you have the
+comforts of your own home around you, and quiet and happy Sundays. But a
+provincial tour!&mdash;the constant travelling, and rehearsals with strange
+people, and damp lodgings, and miserable hotels, and wet Sundays in
+smoky towns! Papa is very good and kind, you know; but he is interested
+in his books, and he goes about all day hunting after curiosities, and
+one has not a soul to speak to. Then the audiences: I have witnessed one
+or two scenes lately that would unnerve any one; and of course I have to
+stand helpless and silent on the stage until the tumult is stilled and
+the original offenders expelled. Some sailors the other evening amused
+themselves by clambering down the top gallery to the pit, hanging on to
+the gas-brackets and the pillars; and one of them managed to reach the
+orchestra, jump from the drum on to the stage, and then offered me a
+glass of whiskey from a big black bottle he had in his hand. When I told
+papa, he laughed, and said I should be proud of my triumph over the
+man's imagination. But when the people roared with laughter at my
+discomfiture, I <a name="Page_140" id="Page_140" />felt as though I would rather be earning my bread by
+selling watercresses in the street or by stitching in a garret.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Of course the cry of the poor injured soul found a ready echo in his
+heart. It was monstrous that she should be subjected to such
+indignities. And then that cruel old pagan of a father&mdash;was he not
+ashamed of himself to see the results of his own cold-blooded theories?
+Was this the glory of art? Was this the reward of the sacrifice of a
+life? That a sensitive girl should be publicly insulted by a tipsy
+maniac, and jeered at by a brutal crowd? Macleod laid down the letter
+for a minute or two, and the look on his face was not lovely to see.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may think it strange that I should write thus to you,&quot; she said;
+&quot;but if I say that it was yourself who first set me thinking about such
+things? And since I have been thinking about them I have had no human
+being near me to whom I could speak. You know papa's opinions. Even if
+my dearest friend, Mrs. Ross, were here, what would she say? She has
+known me only in London. She thinks it a fine thing to be a popular
+actress. She sees people ready to pet me, in a way&mdash;so long as society
+is pleased to have a little curiosity about me. But she does not see the
+other side of the picture. She does not even ask how long all this will
+last. She never thinks of the cares and troubles and downright hard
+work. If ever you heard me sing, you will know that I have very little
+of a voice, and that not worth much; but trifling as it is, you would
+scarcely believe the care and cultivation I have to spend on it, merely
+for business purposes. Mrs. Ross, no doubt, sees that it is pleasant
+enough for a young actress, who is fortunate enough to have won some
+public favor, to go sailing in a yacht on the Thames, on a summer day,
+with nice companions around her. She does not see her on a wet day in
+Newcastle, practising scales for an hour at a stretch, though her throat
+is half choked with the fog, in a dismal parlor with a piano out of
+tune, and with the prospect of having to go out through the wet to a
+rehearsal in a damp and draughty theatre, with escaped gas added to the
+fog. That is very nice, isn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It almost seemed to him&mdash;so intense and eager was his involuntary
+sympathy&mdash;as though he himself were breathing fog, and gas, and the foul
+odors of an empty theatre. He went to the window and threw it open, and
+sat down there. The stars were no longer quivering white on the black
+surface of the water, for the moon had risen now in the south, and
+<a name="Page_141" id="Page_141" />there was a soft glow all shining over the smooth Atlantic. Sharp and
+white was the light on the stone-walls of Castle Dare, and on the
+gravelled path, and the rocks and the trees around; but faraway it was a
+milder radiance that lay over the sea, and touched here and there the
+shores of Inch Kenneth and Ulva and Colonsay. It was a fair and peaceful
+night, with no sound of human unrest to break the sleep of the world.
+Sleep, solemn and profound, dwelt over the lonely islands&mdash;over Staffa,
+with her resounding caves, and Fiadda, with her desolate rocks, and
+Iona, with her fairy-white sands, and the distant Dutchman, and Coll,
+and Tiree, all haunted by the wild sea-birds' cry; and a sleep as deep
+dwelt over the silent hills, far up under the cold light of the skies.
+Surely, if any poor suffering heart was vexed by the contentions of
+crowded cities, here, if anywhere in the world, might rest and peace and
+loving solace be found. He sat dreaming there; he had half forgotten the
+letter.</p>
+
+<p>He roused himself from his reverie, and returned to the light.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And yet I would not complain of mere discomfort,&quot; she continued, &quot;if
+that were all. People who have to work for their living must not be too
+particular. What pains me most of all is the effect that this sort of
+work is having on myself. You would not believe&mdash;and I am almost ashamed
+to confess&mdash;how I am worried by small and mean jealousies and anxieties,
+and how I am tortured by the expression of opinions which, all the same,
+I hold in contempt. I reason with myself to no purpose. It ought to be
+no concern of mine if some girl in a burlesque makes the house roar, by
+the manner in which she walks up and down the stage smoking a cigar; and
+yet I feel angry at the audience for applauding such stuff, and I wince
+when I see her praised in the papers. Oh! these papers! I have been
+making minute inquiries of late; and I find that the usual way in these
+towns is to let the young literary aspirant who has just joined the
+office, or the clever compositor who has been promoted to the
+sub-editor's room, try his hand first of all at reviewing books, and
+then turn him on to dramatic and musical criticism! Occasionally a
+reporter, who has been round the police courts to get notes of the night
+charges, will drop into the theatre on his way to the office, and 'do a
+par.,' as they call it. Will you believe it possible that the things
+written of me by these persons&mdash;with their pretentious airs of
+criticism, and their gross ignorance cropping up at <a name="Page_142" id="Page_142" />every point&mdash;have
+the power to vex and annoy me most terribly? I laugh at the time, but
+the phrase rankles in my memory all the same. One learned young man said
+of me the other day: 'It is really distressing to mark the want of unity
+in her artistic characterizations when one regards the natural
+advantages that nature has heaped upon her with no sparing hand.' The
+natural advantages that nature has heaped upon me! 'And perhaps, also,'
+he went on to say, 'Miss White would do well to pay some little more
+attention before venturing on pronouncing the classic names of Greece.
+Iphigenia herself would not have answered to her name if she had heard
+it pronounced with the accent on the fourth syllable.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod brought his fist down on the table with a bang.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I had that fellow,&quot; said he, aloud&mdash;&quot;if I had that fellow, I should
+like to spin for a shark off Dubh Artach lighthouse.&quot; And here a most
+unholy vision rose before him of a new sort of sport&mdash;a sailing launch
+going about six knots an hour, a goodly rope at the stern with a huge
+hook through the gill of the luckless critic, a swivel to make him spin,
+and then a few smart trips up and down by the side of the lonely Dubh
+Artach rocks, where Mr. Ewing and his companions occasionally find a few
+sharks coming up to the surface to stare at them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it not too ridiculous that such things should vex me&mdash;that I should
+be so absolutely at the mercy of the opinion of people whose judgment I
+know to be absolutely valueless? I find the same thing all around me. I
+find a middle-aged man, who knows his work thoroughly, and has seen all
+the best actors of the past quarter of a century, will go about quite
+proudly with a scrap of approval from some newspaper, written by a young
+man who has never travelled beyond the suburbs of his native town, and
+has seen no acting beyond that of the local company. But there is
+another sort of critic&mdash;the veteran, the man who has worked hard on the
+paper and worn himself out, and who is turned off from politics, and
+pensioned by being allowed to display his imbecility in less important
+matters. Oh dear! what lessons he reads you! The solemnity of them!
+Don't you know that at the end of the second act the business of Mrs.
+So-and-So (some actress who died when George IV. was king) was this,
+that, or the other?&mdash;and how dare you, you impertinent minx, fly in the
+face of well-known stage traditions? I have been introduced lately to a
+specimen of both classes. I think the young man&mdash;<a name="Page_143" id="Page_143" />he had beautiful long
+fair hair and a Byronic collar, and was a little nervous&mdash;fell in love
+with me, for he wrote a furious panegyric of me, and sent it next
+morning with a bouquet, and begged for my photograph. The elderly
+gentleman, on the other hand, gave me a great deal of good advice; but I
+subdued even him, for before he went away he spoke in a broken voice,
+and there were tears in his eyes, which papa said were owing to a
+variety of causes. It is ludicrous enough, no doubt, but it is also a
+little bit humiliating. I try to laugh the thing away, whether the
+opinion expressed about me is solemnly stupid or merely impertinent, but
+the vexation of it remains; and the chief vexation to me is that I
+should have so little command of myself, so little respect for myself,
+as to suffer myself to be vexed. But how can one help it? Public opinion
+is the very breath and life of a theatre and of every one connected with
+it; and you come to attach importance to the most foolish expression of
+opinion in the most obscure print.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And so, my dear friend, I have had my grumble out&mdash;and made my
+confession too, for I should not like to let every one know how foolish
+I am about those petty vexations&mdash;and you will see that I have not
+forgotten what you said to me, and that further reflection and
+experience have only confirmed it. But I must warn you. Now that I have
+victimized you to this fearful extent, and liberated my mind, I feel
+much more comfortable. As I write, there is a blue color coming into the
+window that tells me the new day is coming. Would it surprise you if the
+new day brought a complete new set of feelings? I have begun to doubt
+whether I have got any opinions&mdash;whether, having to be so many different
+people in the course of a week, I have any clear notion as to what I
+myself am. One thing is certain, that I have been greatly vexed and
+worried of late by a succession of the merest trifles; and when I got
+your kind letter and present this evening, I suddenly thought, Now for a
+complete confession and protest. I know you will forgive me for having
+victimized you, and that as soon as you have thrown this rambling
+epistle into the fire you will try to forget all the nonsense it
+contains and will believe that I hope always to remain your friend,</p>
+
+
+<p style="text-align: right;">&quot;<span class='smcap'>Gertrude White</span>.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>His quick and warm sympathy refused to believe the half of this letter.
+It was only because she knew what was owing <a name="Page_144" id="Page_144" />to the honor and
+self-respect of a true woman that she spoke in this tone of bitter and
+scornful depreciation of herself. It was clear that she was longing for
+the dignity and independence of a more natural way of life. And this
+revelation&mdash;that she was not, after all, banished forever into that cold
+region of art in which her father would fain keep her&mdash;somewhat
+bewildered him at first. The victim might be reclaimed from the altar
+and restored to the sphere of simple human affections, natural duties,
+and joy? And if he&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, and with a shock of delight that made his heart throb, he
+tried to picture this beautiful fair creature sitting over there in that
+very chair by the side of the fire, her head bent down over her sewing,
+the warm light of the lamp touching the tender curve of her cheek. And
+when she lifted her head to speak to him&mdash;and when her large and lambent
+eyes met his&mdash;surely Fionaghal, the fair poetess from strange lands,
+never spoke in softer tones than this other beautiful stranger, who was
+now his wife and his heart's companion. And now he would bid her lay
+aside her work, and he would get a white shawl for her, and like a ghost
+she would steal out with him into the moonlight air. And is there enough
+wind on this summer night to take them out from the sombre shore to the
+open plain of the sea? Look now, as the land recedes, at the high walls
+of Castle Dare, over the black cliffs, and against the stars. Far away
+they see the graveyard of Inch Kenneth, the stones pale in the
+moonlight. And what song will she sing now, that Ulva and Colonsay may
+awake and fancy that some mermaiden is singing to bewail her lost lover?
+The night is sad, and the song is sad; and then, somehow, he finds
+himself alone in this waste of water, and all the shores of the islands
+are silent and devoid of life, and there is only the echo of the sad
+singing in his ears&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>He jumps to his feet, for there is a knocking at the door. The gentle
+Cousin Janet enters, and hastily he thrusts that letter into his pocket,
+while his face blushes hotly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where have you been, Keith?&quot; she says, in her quiet, kindly way.
+&quot;Auntie would like to say good-night to you now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will come directly,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now that Norman Ogilvie is away, Keith,&quot; said she, &quot;you will take
+more rest about the shooting; for you have not been looking like
+yourself at all lately; and you know, Keith, when you are not well and
+happy, it is no one <a name="Page_145" id="Page_145" />at all about Dare that is happy either. And that is
+why you will take care of yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at her rather uneasily; but he said, in a light and careless
+way,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I have been well enough, Janet, except that I was not sleeping well
+one or two nights. And if you look after me like that, you will make me
+think I am a baby, and you will send me some warm flannels when I go up
+on the hills.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is too proud of your hardihood you are, Keith,&quot; said his cousin,
+with a smile. &quot;But there never was a man of your family who would take
+any advice.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would take any advice from you, Janet,&quot; said he; and therewith he
+followed her to bid good-night to the silver-haired mother.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX" />CHAPTER XIX.</h2>
+
+<h3>A RESOLVE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>He slept but little that night, and early the next morning he was up and
+away by himself&mdash;paying but little heed to the rushing blue seas, and
+the white gulls, and the sunshine touching the far sands on the shores
+of Iona. He was in a fever of unrest. He knew not what to make of that
+letter; it might mean anything or nothing. Alternations of wild hope and
+cold despair succeeded each other. Surely it was unusual for a girl so
+to reveal her innermost confidences to any one whom she considered a
+stranger? To him alone had she told this story of her private troubles.
+Was it not in effect asking for a sympathy which she could not hope for
+from any other? Was it not establishing a certain secret between them?
+Her own father did not know. Her sister was too young to be told.
+Friends like Mrs. Ross could not understand why this young and beautiful
+actress, the favorite of the public, could be dissatisfied with her lot.
+It was to him alone she had appealed.</p>
+
+<p>And then again he read the letter. The very frankness of it made him
+fear. There was none of the shyness of a girl writing to one who might
+be her lover. She might have written thus to one of her
+school-companions. He eagerly <a name="Page_146" id="Page_146" />searched it for some phrase of tenderer
+meaning; but no there was a careless abandonment about it, as if she had
+been talking without thinking of the person she addressed. She had even
+joked about a young man falling in love with her. It was a matter of
+perfect indifference to her. It was ludicrous as the shape of the lad's
+collar was ludicrous, but of no more importance. And thus she receded
+from his imagination again, and became a thing apart&mdash;the white slave
+bound in those cruel chains that seemed to all but herself and him the
+badges of triumph.</p>
+
+<p><i>Herself and him</i>&mdash;the conjunction set his heart throbbing quickly. He
+eagerly bethought himself how this secret understanding could be
+strengthened, if only he might see her and speak to her. He could tell
+by her eyes what she meant, whatever her words might be. <i>If only he
+could see her again:</i> all his wild hopes, and fears, and doubts&mdash;all his
+vague fancies and imaginings&mdash;began to narrow themselves down to this
+one point; and this immediate desire became all-consuming. He grew sick
+at heart when he looked round and considered how vain was the wish.</p>
+
+<p>The gladness had gone from the face of Keith Macleod. Not many months
+before, any one would have imagined that the life of this handsome young
+fellow, whose strength, and courage, and high spirits seemed to render
+him insensible to any obstacle, had everything in it that the mind of
+man could desire. He had a hundred interests and activities; he had
+youth and health, and a comely presence; he was on good terms with
+everybody around him&mdash;for he had a smile and a cheerful word for each
+one he met, gentle or simple. All this gay, glad life seemed to have
+fled. The watchful Hamish was the first to notice that his master began
+to take less and less interest in the shooting and boating and fishing;
+and at times the old man was surprised and disturbed by an exhibition of
+querulous impatience that had certainly never before been one of
+Macleod's failings. Then his cousin Janet saw that he was silent and
+absorbed; and his mother inquired once or twice why he did not ask one
+or other of his neighbors to come over to Dare to have a day's shooting
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you are finding the place lonely, Keith, now that Norman
+Ogilvie is gone,&quot; said she.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, mother,&quot; he said, with a laugh, &quot;it is not Norman Ogilvie, it is
+London, that has poisoned my mind. I should never have gone to the
+South. I am hungering for the flesh<a name="Page_147" id="Page_147" />pots of Egypt already; and I am
+afraid some day I will have to come and ask you to let me go away
+again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke jestingly, and yet he was regarding his mother.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know it is not pleasant for a young man to be kept fretting at home,&quot;
+said she. &quot;But it is not long now I will ask you to do that, Keith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Of course this brief speech only drove him into more vigorous
+demonstration that he was not fretting at all; and for a time he seemed
+more engrossed than ever in all the occupations he had but recently
+abandoned. But whether he was on the hillside, or down in the glen, or
+out among the islands, or whether he was trying to satisfy the hunger of
+his heart with books long after every one in Castle Dare had gone to
+bed, he could not escape from this gnawing and torturing anxiety. It was
+no beautiful and gentle sentiment that possessed him&mdash;a pretty thing to
+dream about during a summer's morning&mdash;but, on the contrary, a burning
+fever of unrest, that left him peace nor day nor night. &quot;Sudden love is
+followed by sudden hate,&quot; says the Gaelic proverb; but there had been no
+suddenness at all about this passion that had stealthily got hold of
+him; and he had ceased even to hope that it might abate or depart
+altogether. He had to &quot;dree his weird.&quot; And when he read in books about
+the joy and delight that accompany the awakening of love&mdash;how the world
+suddenly becomes fair, and the very skies are bluer than their wont&mdash;he
+wondered whether he was different from other human beings. The joy and
+delight of love? He knew only a sick hunger of the heart and a continual
+and brooding despair.</p>
+
+<p>One morning he was going along the cliffs, his only companion being the
+old black retriever, when suddenly he saw, far away below him, the
+figure of a lady. For a second his heart stood still at the sight of
+this stranger; for he knew it was neither the mother nor Janet; and she
+was coming along a bit of greensward from which, by dint of much
+climbing, she might have reached Castle Dare. But as he watched her he
+caught sight of some other figures, farther below on the rocks. And then
+he perceived&mdash;as he saw her return with a handful of bell-heather&mdash;that
+this party had come from Iona, or Bunessan, or some such place, to
+explore one of the great caves on this coast, while this lady had
+wandered away from them in search of some wild flowers. By and by he saw
+the small boat, with its spritsail white in the <a name="Page_148" id="Page_148" />sun, go away toward the
+south, and the lonely coast was left as lonely as before.</p>
+
+<p>But ever after that he grew to wonder what Gertrude White, if ever she
+could be persuaded to visit his home, would think of this thing and of
+that thing&mdash;what flowers she would gather&mdash;whether she would listen to
+Hamish's stories of the fairies&mdash;whether she would be interested in her
+small countryman, Johnny Wickes, who was now in kilts, with his face and
+legs as brown as a berry&mdash;whether the favorable heavens would send her
+sunlight and blue skies, and the moonlight nights reveal to her the
+solemn glory of the sea and the lonely islands. Would she take his hand
+to steady herself in passing over the slippery rocks? What would she say
+if suddenly she saw above her&mdash;by the opening of a cloud&mdash;a stag
+standing high on a crag near the summit of Ben-an-Sloich? And what would
+the mother and Janet say to that singing of hers, if they were to hear
+her put all the tenderness of the low, sweet voice into &quot;Wae's me for
+Prince Charlie?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was one secret nook that more than any other he associated with
+her presence; and thither he would go when this heart-sickness seemed
+too grievous to be borne. It was down in a glen beyond the fir-wood; and
+here the ordinary desolation of this bleak coast ceased, for there were
+plenty of young larches on the sides of the glen, with a tall
+silver-birch or two; while down in the hollow there were clumps of
+alders by the side of the brawling stream. And this dell that he sought
+was hidden away from sight, with the sun but partially breaking through
+the alders and rowans, and bespeckling the great gray boulders by the
+side of the burn, many of which were covered by the softest of
+olive-green moss. Here, too, the brook, that had been broken just above
+by intercepting stones, swept clearly and limpidly over a bed of smooth
+rock; and in the golden-brown water the trout lay, and scarcely moved
+until some motion of his hand made them shoot up stream with a lightning
+speed. And then the wild flowers around&mdash;the purple ling and red
+bell-heather growing on the silver-gray rocks; a foxglove or two
+towering high above the golden-green breckans; the red star of a
+crane's-bill among the velvet moss. Even if she were overawed by the
+solitariness of the Atlantic and the gloom of the tall cliffs and their
+yawning caves, surely here would be a haven of peace and rest, with
+sunshine, and flowers, and the pleasant murmur of the stream. What did
+<a name="Page_149" id="Page_149" />it say, then, as one sat and listened in the silence? When the fair
+poetess from strange lands came among the Macleods, did she seek out
+this still retreat, and listen, and listen, and listen until she caught
+the music of this monotonous murmur, and sang it to her harp? And was it
+not all a song about the passing away of life, and how that summer days
+were for the young, and how the world was beautiful for lovers? &quot;Oh,
+children!&quot; it seemed to say, &quot;why should you waste your lives in vain
+endeavor, while the winter is coming quick, and the black snowstorms,
+and a roaring of wind from the sea? Here I have flowers for you, and
+beautiful sunlight, and the peace of summer days. Time passes&mdash;time
+passes&mdash;time passes&mdash;and you are growing old. While as yet the heart is
+warm and the eye is bright, here are summer flowers for you, and a
+silence fit for the mingling of lovers' speech. If you listen not, I
+laugh at you and go my way. But the winter is coming fast.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Far away in these grimy towns, fighting with mean cares and petty
+jealousies, dissatisfied, despondent, careless as to the future, how
+could this message reach her to fill her heart with the singing of a
+bird? He dared not send it, at all events. But he wrote to her. And the
+bitter travail of the writing of that letter he long remembered. He was
+bound to give her his sympathy, and to make light as well as he could of
+those very evils which he had been the first to reveal to her. He tried
+to write in as frank and friendly a spirit as she had done; the letter
+was quite cheerful.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you know,&quot; said he, &quot;that once upon a time the chief of the
+Macleods married a fairy? And whether Macleod did not treat her well, or
+whether the fairy-folk reclaimed her, or whether she grew tired of the
+place, I do not know quite; but, at all events, they were separated, and
+she went away to her own people. But before she went away she gave to
+Macleod a fairy banner&mdash;the <i>Bratach sith</i> it is known as&mdash;and she told
+him that if ever he was in great peril, or had any great desire, he was
+to wave that flag, and whatever he desired would come to pass. But the
+virtue of the <i>Bratach sith</i> would depart after it had been waved three
+times. Now the small green banner has been waved only twice; and now I
+believe it is still preserved in the Castle of Dunvegan, with power to
+work one more miracle on behalf of the Macleods. And if I had the fairy
+flag, do you know what I would do with it? I would take it in my hand,
+and say: '<i>I desire the fairy people to remove my friend Gertrude White
+from <a name="Page_150" id="Page_150" />all the evil influences that disturb and distress her. I desire
+them to heal her wounded spirit, and secure for her everything that may
+tend to her lifelong happiness. And I desire that all the theatres in
+the kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland&mdash;with all their musical
+instruments, lime-light, and painted scenes&mdash;may be taken and dropped
+into the ocean, midway between the islands of Ulva and Coll, so that the
+fairy folk may amuse them selves in them if they will so please</i>.' Would
+not that be a very nice form of incantation? We are very strong
+believers here in the power of one person to damage another in absence;
+and when you can kill a man by sticking pins into a waxen image of
+him&mdash;which everybody knows to be true&mdash;surely you ought to be able to
+help a friend, especially with the aid of the <i>Bratach sith</i>. Imagine
+Covent Garden Theatre a hundred fathoms down in the deep sea, with
+mermaidens playing the brass instruments in the orchestra, and the
+fairy-folk on the stage, and seals disporting themselves in the stalls,
+and guillemots shooting about the upper galleries in pursuit of fish.
+But we should get no peace from Iona. The fairies there are very pious
+people. They used to carry St. Columba about when he got tired. They
+would be sure to demand the shutting up of all the theatres, and the
+destruction of the brass instruments. And I don't see how we could
+reasonably object.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a cruel sort of jesting; but how otherwise than as a jest could
+he convey to her, an actress, his wish that all theatres were at the
+bottom of the sea? For a brief time that letter seemed to establish some
+link of communication between him and her. He followed it on its travels
+by sea and land. He thought of its reaching the house in which she
+dwelt&mdash;perhaps some plain and grimy building in a great manufacturing
+city, or perhaps a small quiet cottage up by Regent's Park half hidden
+among the golden leaves of October. Might she not, moreover, after she
+had opened it and read it, be moved by some passing whim to answer it,
+though it demanded no answer? He waited for a week, and there was no
+word or message from the South. She was far away, and silent. And the
+hills grew lonelier than before, and the sickness of his heart
+increased.</p>
+
+<p>This state of mind could not last. His longing and impatience and unrest
+became more than he could bear. It was in vain that he tried to satisfy
+his imaginative craving with these idle visions of her: it was she
+herself he must see; and he set about devising all manner of wild
+excuses for one <a name="Page_151" id="Page_151" />last visit to the South. But the more he considered
+these various projects, the more ashamed he grew in thinking of his
+taking any one of them and placing it before the beautiful old dame who
+reigned in Castle Dare. He had barely been three months at home; how
+could he explain to her this sudden desire to go away again?</p>
+
+<p>One morning his cousin Janet came to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Keith!&quot; said she, &quot;the whole house is in commotion; and Hamish is
+for murdering some of the lads; and there is no one would dare to bring
+the news to you. The two young buzzards have escaped!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know it,&quot; he said. &quot;I let them out myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You!&quot; she exclaimed in surprise; for she knew the great interest he had
+shown in watching the habits of the young hawks that had been captured
+by a shepherd lad.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; I let them out last night. It was a pity to have them caged up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So long as it was yourself, it is all right,&quot; she said; and then she
+was going away. But she paused and turned, and said to him, with a
+smile, &quot;And I think you should let yourself escape, too, Keith, for it
+is you too that are caged up; and perhaps you feel it now more since you
+have been to London. And if you are thinking of your friends in London,
+why should you not go for another visit to the South before you settle
+down to the long winter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For an instant he regarded her with some fear. Had she guessed his
+secret? Had she been watching the outward signs of this constant torture
+he had been suffering? Had she surmised that the otter-skins about which
+he had asked her advice were not consigned to any one of the married
+ladies whose acquaintance he had made in the South, and of whom he had
+chatted freely enough in Castle Dare? Or was this merely a passing
+suggestion thrown out by one who was always on the lookout to do a
+kindness?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I would like to go, Janet,&quot; he said, but with no gladness in his
+voice; &quot;and it is not more than a week or two I should like to be away;
+but I do not think the mother would like it; and it is enough money I
+have spent this year already&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no concern about the money, Keith,&quot; said she, simply, &quot;since
+you have not touched what I gave you. And if you are set upon it, you
+know auntie will agree to whatever you wish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_152" id="Page_152" />But how can I explain to her? It is unreasonable to be going away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>How, indeed, could he explain? He was almost assuming that those gentle
+eyes now fixed on him could read his heart, and that she would come to
+aid him in his suffering without any further speech from him. And that
+was precisely what Janet Macleod did&mdash;whether or not she had guessed the
+cause of his desire to get away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you were a schoolboy, Keith, you would be cleverer at making an
+excuse for playing truant,&quot; she said, laughing. &quot;And I could make one
+for you now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will not call it an excuse, Keith,&quot; she said, &quot;because I think you
+would be doing a good work; and I will bear the expense of it, if you
+please.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked more puzzled than ever.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When we were at Salen yesterday I saw Major Stuart, and he has just
+came back from Dunrobin. And he was saying very great things about the
+machine for the drying of crops in wet weather, and he said he would
+like to go to England to see the newer ones and all the later
+improvements, if these was a chance of any one about here going shares
+with them. And it would not be very much. Keith, if you were to share
+with him; and the machine it can be moved about very well; and in the
+bad weather you could give the cotters some help, to say nothing about
+our own hay and corn. And that is what Major Stuart was saying
+yesterday, that if there was any place that you wanted a drying-machine
+for the crops it was in Mull.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have been thinking of it myself,&quot; he said, absently, &quot;but our farm is
+too small to make it pay&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But if Major Stuart will take half the expense? And even if you lost a
+little, Keith, you would save a great deal to the poorer people who are
+continually losing their little patches of crops. And will you go and be
+my agent, Keith, to go and see whether it is practicable?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They will not thank you, Janet, for letting them have this help for
+nothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They shall not have it for nothing,&quot; said she&mdash;for she had plenty of
+experience in dealing with the poorer folk around&mdash;&quot;they must pay for
+the fuel that is used. And now, Keith, if it is a holiday you want, will
+not that be a very good holiday, and one to be used for a very good
+purpose, too?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She left him. Where was the eager joy with which he <a name="Page_153" id="Page_153" />ought to have
+accepted this offer? Here was the very means placed within his reach of
+satisfying the craving desire of his heart; and yet, all the same, he
+seemed to shrink back with a vague and undefined dread. A thousand
+impalpable fears and doubts beset his mind. He had grown timid as a
+woman. The old happy audacity had been destroyed by sleepless nights and
+a torturing anxiety. It was a new thing for Keith Macleod to have become
+a prey to strange unintelligible forebodings.</p>
+
+<p>But he went and saw Major Stuart&mdash;a round, red, jolly little man, with
+white hair and a cheerful smile, who had a sombre and melancholy wife.
+Major Stuart received Macleod's offer with great gravity. It was a
+matter of business that demanded serious consideration. He had worked
+out the whole system of drying crops with hot air as it was shown him in
+pamphlets, reports, and agricultural journals, and he had come to the
+conclusion that&mdash;on paper at least&mdash;it could be made to pay. What was
+wanted was to give the thing a practical trial. If the system was sound,
+surely any one who helped to introduce it into the Western Highlands was
+doing a very good work indeed. And there was nothing but personal
+inspection could decide on the various merits of latest improvements.</p>
+
+<p>This was what he said before his wife one night at dinner. But when the
+ladies had left the room, the little stout major suddenly put up both
+his hands, snapped his thumb and middle finger, and very cleverly
+executed one or two reel steps.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By George! my boy,&quot; said he, with a ferocious grin on his face, &quot;I
+think we will have a little frolic&mdash;a little frolic!&mdash;a little frolic!
+You were never shut up in a house for six months with a woman like my
+wife, were you, Macleod? You were never reminded of your coffin every
+morning, were you? Macleod, my boy, I am just mad to get after those
+drying-machines!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And indeed Macleod could not have had a merrier companion to go South
+with him than this rubicund major just escaped from the thraldom of his
+wife. But it was with no such high spirits that Macleod set out. Perhaps
+it was only the want of sleep that had rendered him nerveless and
+morbid; but he felt, as he left Castle Dare, that there was a lie in his
+actions, if not in his words. And as for the future that lay before him,
+it was a region only of doubt, and vague <a name="Page_154" id="Page_154" />regrets, and unknown fears;
+and he was entering upon it without any glimpse of light, and without
+the guidance of any friendly hand.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX" />CHAPTER XX.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>OTTER-SKINS.</h3>
+
+<p>&quot;<span class='smcap'>Ah</span>, pappy,&quot; said Miss Gertrude White to her father and she pretended to
+sigh as she spoke&mdash;&quot;this is a change indeed!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They were driving up to the gate of the small cottage in South Bank. It
+was the end of October. In the gardens they passed the trees were almost
+bare; though such leaves as hung sparsely on the branches of the
+chestnuts and maples were ablaze with russet and gold in the misty
+sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In another week,&quot; she continued, &quot;there will not be a leaf left. I dare
+say there is not a single geranium in the garden. All hands on deck to
+pipe a farewell:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span >'Ihr Matten, lebt wohl,<br /></span>
+<span >Ihr sonnigen Weiden<br /></span>
+<span >Der Senne muss scheiden,<br /></span>
+<span >Der Sommer ist hin.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Farewell to the blue mountains of Newcastle, and the sunlit valleys of
+Liverpool, and the silver waterfalls of Leeds; the summer is indeed
+over; and a very nice and pleasant summer we have had of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The flavor of sarcasm running through this affected sadness vexed Mr.
+White, and he answered, sharply,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you have little reason to grumble over a tour which has so
+distinctly added to your reputation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was not aware,&quot; said she, with a certain careless sauciness of
+manner, &quot;that an actress was allowed to have a reputation; at least,
+there are always plenty of people anxious enough to take it away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gertrude,&quot; said he, sternly, &quot;what do you mean by this constant
+carping? Do you wish to cease to be an actress? Or what in all the world
+do you want?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To cease to be an actress?&quot; she said, with a mild won<a name="Page_155" id="Page_155" />der, and with the
+sweetest of smiles, as she prepared to get out of the open door of the
+cab. &quot;Why, don't you know; pappy, that a leopard cannot change his
+spots, or an Etheopian his skin? Take care of the step, pappy! That's
+right. Come here, Marie, and give the cabman a hand with this
+portmanteau.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss White was not grumbling at all&mdash;but, on the contrary, was quite
+pleasant and cheerful&mdash;when she entered the small house and found
+herself once more at home.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Carry,&quot; she said, when her sister followed her into her room; &quot;you
+don't know what it is to get back home, after having been bandied from
+one hotel to another hotel, and from one lodging-house to another
+lodging-house, for goodness knows how long.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, indeed!&quot; said Miss Carry, with such marked coldness that her sister
+turned to her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is the matter with you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is the matter with <i>you?</i>&quot; the younger sister retorted, with
+sudden fire. &quot;Do you know that your letters to me have been quite
+disgraceful?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are crazed, child&mdash;you wrote something about it the other day&mdash;I
+could not make out what you meant,&quot; said Miss White; and she went to the
+glass to see that the beautiful brown hair had not been too much
+disarranged by the removal of her bonnet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is you are crazed, Gertrude White,&quot; said Carry, who had apparently
+picked up from some melodrama the notion that it was rather effective to
+address a person by her full name. &quot;I am really ashamed of you&mdash;that you
+should have let yourself be bewitched by a parcel of beasts' skins. I
+declare that your ravings about the Highlands, and fairies, and trash of
+that sort, have been only fit for a penny journal&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss White turned and stared&mdash;as well she might. This indignant person
+of fourteen had flashing eyes and a visage of wrath. The pale, calm,
+elder sister only remarked, in that deep-toned and gentle voice of hers,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your language is pretty considerably strong, Carry. I don't know what
+has aroused such a passion in you. Because I wrote to you about the
+Highlands? Because I sent you that collection of legends? Because it
+seemed to me, when I was in a wretched hotel in some dirty town, I would
+rather be away yachting or driving with some one of the various parties
+of people whom I know, and who had mostly gone to Scotland this year? If
+you are jealous of the High<a name="Page_156" id="Page_156" />lands, Carry, I will undertake to root out
+the name of every mountain and lake that has got hold of my affections.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She was turning away again, with a quiet smile on her face, when her
+younger sister arrested her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's that?&quot; said she, so sharply, and extending her forefinger so
+suddenly, that Gertrude almost shrank back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's what?&quot; she said, in dismay&mdash;fearing, perhaps, to hear of an
+adder being on her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know perfectly well,&quot; said Miss Carry, vehemently, &quot;it is the
+Macleod tartan!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now the truth was that Miss White's travelling-dress was of an
+unrelieved gray; the only scrap of color about her costume being a tiny
+thread of tartan ribbon that just showed in front of her collar.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Macleod tartan?&quot; said the eldest sister, demurely. &quot;And what if it
+were the Macleod tartan?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Gerty! There was quite enough
+occasion for people to talk in the way he kept coming here; and now you
+make a parade of it; you ask people to look at you wearing a badge of
+servitude&mdash;you say, 'Oh, here I am; and I am quite ready to be your wife
+when you ask me, Sir Keith Macleod!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was no flush of anger in the fair and placid face; but rather a
+look of demure amusement in the downcast eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear me, Carry!&quot; said she, with great innocence, &quot;the profession of an
+actress must be looking up in public estimation when such a rumor as
+that could even get into existence. And so people
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'have have'">have</ins>
+ been so kind as
+to suggest that Sir Keith Macleod, the representative of one of the
+oldest and proudest families in the kingdom, would not be above marrying
+a poor actress who has her living to earn, and who is supported by the
+half-crowns and half-sovereigns of the public? And indeed I think it
+would look very well to have him loitering about the stage-doors of
+provincial theatres until his wife should be ready to come out; and
+would he bring his gillies, and keepers, and head-foresters, and put
+them into the pit to applaud her? Really, the role you have cut out for
+a Highland gentleman&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A Highland gentleman!&quot; exclaimed Carry. &quot;A Highland pauper! But you are
+quite right, Gerty, to laugh at the rumor. Of course it is quite
+ridiculous. It is quite ridiculous to think that an actress whose fame
+is all over England&mdash;who is sought after by everybody, and the
+popularest favorite ever seen&mdash;would give up everything and <a name="Page_157" id="Page_157" />go away and
+marry an ignorant Highland savage, and look after his calves and his
+cows and hens for him. That is indeed ridiculous, Gerty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, then, put it out of your mind; and never let me hear another
+word about it,&quot; said the popularest favorite, as she undid the bit of
+tartan ribbon; &quot;and if it is any great comfort to you to know, this is
+not the Macleod tartan but the MacDougal tartan, and you may put it in
+the fire if you like.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Saying which, she threw the bit of costume which had given so great
+offence on the table. The discomfited Carry looked at it, but would not
+touch it. At last she said,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where are the skins, Gerty?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Near Castle Dare,&quot; answered Miss White, turning to get something else
+for her neck; &quot;there is a steep hill, and the road comes over it. When
+you climb to the top of the hill and sit down, the fairies will carry
+you right to the bottom if you are in a proper frame of mind. But they
+won't appear at all unless you are at peace with all men. I will show
+you the skins when you are in a proper frame of mind, Carry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who told you that story?&quot; she asked quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir Keith Macleod,&quot; the elder sister said, without thinking.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then he has been writing to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She marched out of the room. Gertrude White, unconscious of the fierce
+rage she had aroused, carelessly proceeded with her toilet, trying now
+one flower and now another in the ripples of her sun-brown hair, but
+finally discarding these half-withered things for a narrow band of blue
+velvet.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Threescore o' nobles rode up the king's ha',&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>she was humming thoughtlessly to herself as she stood with her hands
+uplifted to her head, revealing the beautiful lines of her figure,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&quot;But Bonnie Glenogie's the flower o' them a';<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Wi' his milk-white steed and his coal-black e'e:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Glenogie, dear mither, Glenogie for me!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>At length she had finished, and was ready to proceed to her immediate
+work of overhauling domestic affairs. When <a name="Page_158" id="Page_158" />Keith Macleod was struck by
+the exceeding neatness and perfection of arrangement in this small
+house, he was in nowise the victim of any stage-effect. Gertrude White
+was at all times and in all seasons a precise and accurate
+house-mistress. Harassed, as an actress must often be, by other cares;
+sometimes exhausted with hard work; perhaps tempted now and again by the
+self-satisfaction of a splendid triumph to let meaner concerns go
+unheeded; all the same, she allowed nothing to interfere with her
+domestic duties.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty,&quot; her father said, impatiently, to her a day or two before they
+left London for the provinces, &quot;what is the use of your going down to
+these stores yourself? Surely you can send Jane or Marie. You really
+waste far too much time over the veriest trifles: how can it matter what
+sort of mustard we have?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And, indeed, I am glad to have something to convince me that I am a
+human being and a woman,&quot; she had said, instantly, &quot;something to be
+myself in. I believe Providence intended me to be the manager of a Swiss
+hotel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This was one of the first occasions on which she had revealed to her
+father that she had been thinking a good deal about her lot in life, and
+was perhaps beginning to doubt whether the struggle to become a great
+and famous actress was the only thing worth living for. But he paid
+little attention to it at the time. He had a vague impression that it
+was scarcely worth discussing about. He was pretty well convinced that
+his daughter was clever enough to argue herself into any sort of belief
+about herself, if she should take some fantastic notion into her head.
+It was not until that night in Manchester that he began to fear there
+might be something serious in these expressions of discontent.</p>
+
+<p>On this bright October morning Miss Gertrude White was about to begin
+her domestic inquiries, and was leaving her room humming cheerfully to
+herself something about the bonnie Glenogie of the song, when she was
+again stopped by her sister, who was carrying a bundle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have got the skins,&quot; she said, gloomily. &quot;Jane took them out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you look at them?&quot; the sister said, kindly. &quot;They are very pretty.
+If they were not a present, I would give them to you, to make a jacket
+of them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>I</i> wear them?&quot; said she. &quot;Not likely!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless she had sufficient womanly curiosity to let <a name="Page_159" id="Page_159" />her elder
+sister open the parcel; and then she took up the otter-skins one by one,
+and looked at them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think much of them,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>The other bore this taunt patiently.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are only big moles, aren't they? And I thought moleskin was only
+worn by working-people.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am a working-person too,&quot; Miss Gertrude White said: &quot;but, in any
+case, I think a jacket of these skins will look lovely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, do you think so? Well, you can't say much for the smell of them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is no more disagreeable than the smell of a sealskin jacket.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She laid down the last of the skins with some air of disdain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It will be a nice series of trophies, anyway&mdash;showing you know some one
+who goes about spending his life in killing inoffensive animals.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor Sir Keith Macleod! What has he done to offend you, Carry?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Carry turned her head away for a minute; but presently she boldly
+faced her sister.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty, you don't mean to marry a beauty man!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gerty looked considerably puzzled; but her companion continued,
+vehemently,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How often have I heard you say you would never marry a beauty man&mdash;a
+man who has been brought up in front of the looking-glass&mdash;who is far
+too well satisfied with his own good looks to think of anything or
+anybody else! Again and again you have said that, Gertrude White. You
+told me, rather than marry a self-satisfied coxcomb, you would marry a
+misshapen, ugly little man, so that he would worship you all the days of
+your life for your condescension and kindness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, then!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what is Sir Keith Macleod but a beauty man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He is not!&quot; and for once the elder sister betrayed some feeling in the
+proud tone of her voice. &quot;He is the manliest-looking man that I have
+ever seen; and I have seen a good many more men than you. There is not a
+man you know whom he could not throw across the canal down there. Sir
+Keith Macleod a beauty man!&mdash;I think he could take on a good deal more
+polishing, and curling, and smoothing without any great harm. If I was
+in any danger, I know which of all the men I have seen I would rather
+<a name="Page_160" id="Page_160" />have in front of me&mdash;with his arms free; and I don't suppose he would
+be thinking of any looking-glass! If you want to know about the race he
+represents, read English history, and the story of England's wars. If
+you go to India, or China, or Africa, or the Crimea, you will hear
+something about the Macleods, I think!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Carry began to cry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You silly thing, what is the matter with you?&quot; Gertrude White
+exclaimed; but of course her arm was round her sister's neck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is true, then.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is true?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What people say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do people say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That you will marry Sir Keith Macleod.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Carry!&quot; she said, angrily, &quot;I can't imagine who has been repeating such
+idiotic stories to you, I wish people would mind their own business. Sir
+Keith Macleod marry me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you mean to say he has never asked you?&quot; Carry said, disengaging
+herself, and fixing her eyes on her sister's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly not!&quot; was the decided answer; but all the same, Miss Gertrude
+White's forehead and cheeks flushed slightly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you know that he means to; and that is why you have been writing
+to me, day after day, about the romance of the Highlands, and fairy
+stories, and the pleasure of people who could live without caring for
+the public. Oh, Gerty, why won't you be frank with me, and let me know
+the worst at once?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I gave you a box on the ears,&quot; she said, laughing, &quot;that would be
+the worst at once; and I think it would serve you right for listening to
+such tittle-tattle and letting your head be filled with nonsense.
+Haven't you sufficient sense to know that you ought not to compel me to
+speak of such a thing&mdash;absurd as it is? I cannot go on denying that I am
+about to become the wife of Tom, Dick, or Harry; and you know the
+stories that have been going about for years past. Who was I last? The
+wife of a Russian nobleman who gambled away all my earnings at Homburg.
+You are fourteen now, Carry; you should have more sense.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Carry dried her eyes; but she mournfully shook her head. There were
+the otter-skins lying on the table. <a name="Page_161" id="Page_161" />She had seen plenty of the absurd
+paragraphs about her sister which good-natured friends had cut out of
+provincial and foreign papers and forwarded to the small family at South
+Bank. But the mythical Russian nobleman had never sent a parcel of
+otter-skins. These were palpable and not to be explained away. She
+sorrowfully left the room, unconvinced.</p>
+
+<p>And now Miss Gertrude White set to work with a will; and no one who was
+only familiar with her outside her own house would have recognized in
+this shifty, practical, industrious person, who went so thoroughly into
+all the details of the small establishment, the lady who, when she went
+abroad among the gayeties of the London season, was so eagerly sought
+after, and flattered, and petted, and made the object of all manner of
+delicate attentions. Her father, who suspected that her increased
+devotion to these domestic duties was but part of that rebellious spirit
+she had recently betrayed, had nevertheless to confess that there was no
+one but herself whom he could trust to arrange his china and dust his
+curiosities. And how could he resent her giving instructions to the
+cook, when it was his own dinner that profited thereby?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Gerty,&quot; he said that evening after dinner, &quot;what do you think
+about Mr. &mdash;&mdash;'s offer? It is very good-natured of him to let you have
+the ordering of the drawing-room scene, for you can have the furniture
+and the color to suit your own costume.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed I shall have nothing whatever to do with it,&quot; said she,
+promptly. &quot;The furniture at home is enough for me. I don't wish to
+become the upholsterer of a theatre.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are very ungrateful, then. Half the effect of a modern comedy is
+lost because the people appear in rooms which resemble nothing at all
+that people ever lived in. Here is a man who gives you <i>carte blanche</i>
+to put a modern drawing-room on the stage; and your part would gain
+infinitely from having real surroundings. I consider it a very
+flattering offer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And perhaps it is, pappy,&quot; said she, &quot;but I think I do enough if I get
+through my own share of the work. And it is very silly of him to want me
+to introduce a song into this part, too. He knows I can't sing&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty!&quot; her sister said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you know as well as I. I can get through a song well enough in a
+room; but I have not enough voice for a <a name="Page_162" id="Page_162" />theatre; and although he says
+it is only to make the drawing-room scene more realistic&mdash;and that I
+need not sing to the front&mdash;that is all nonsense. I know what it is
+meant for&mdash;to catch the gallery. Now I refuse to sing for the gallery.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This was decided enough.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What was the song you put into your last part, Gerty?&quot; her sister
+asked. &quot;I saw something in the papers about it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was a Scotch one, Carry; I don't think you know it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder it was not a Highland one,&quot; her sister said, rather
+spitefully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I have a whole collection of Highland ones now, would you like to
+hear one? Would you, pappy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She went and fetched the book, and opened the piano.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is an old air that belonged to Scarba,&quot; she said, and then she sang,
+simply and pathetically enough, the somewhat stiff and cumbrous English
+translation of the Gaelic words. It was the song of the exiled Mary
+Macleod, who, sitting on the shores of &quot;sea-worn Mull,&quot; looks abroad on
+the lonely islands of Scarba, and Islay, and Jura, and laments that she
+is far away from her own home.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you like it, pappy?&quot; she said, when she had finished. &quot;It is a
+pity I do not know the Gaelic. They say that when the chief heard these
+verses repeated, he let the old woman go back to her own home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>One of the two listeners, at all events, did not seem to be particularly
+struck by the pathos of Mary Macleod's lament. She walked up to the
+piano.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where did you get that book, Gerty?&quot; she said, in a firm voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where?&quot; said the other, innocently. &quot;In Manchester, I think it was, I
+bought it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But before she had made the explanation, Miss Carry, convinced that
+this, too, had come from her enemy, had seized the book and turned to
+the title-page. Neither on title-page nor on fly-leaf, however, was
+there any inscription.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you think it had come with the otter-skins, Carry?&quot; the elder
+sister said, laughing; and the younger one retired, baffled and
+chagrined, but none the less resolved that before Gertrude White
+completely gave herself up to this blind infatuation for a savage
+country and for one of its worthless inhabitants, she would have to run
+the gauntlet of many a sharp word of warning and reproach.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI" /><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163" />CHAPTER XXI.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN LONDON AGAIN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>On through the sleeping counties rushed the train&mdash;passing woods,
+streams, fertile valleys, and clustering villages, all palely shrouded
+in the faint morning mist that had a sort of suffused and hidden
+sunlight in it; the world had not yet awoke. But Macleod knew that, ere
+he reached London people would be abroad; and he almost shrank from
+meeting the look of those thousands of eager faces. Would not some of
+them guess his errand? Would he not be sure to run against a friend of
+hers&mdash;an acquaintance of his own? It was with a strange sense of fear
+that he stepped out and on to the platform at Euston Station; he glanced
+up and down; if she were suddenly to confront his eyes! A day or two ago
+it seemed as if innumerable leagues of ocean lay between him and her, so
+that the heart grew sick with thinking of the distance; now that he was
+in the same town with her, he felt so close to her that he could almost
+hear her breathe.</p>
+
+<p>Major Stuart has enjoyed a sound night's rest, and was now possessed of
+quite enough good spirits and loquacity for two. He scarcely observed
+the silence of his companion. Together they rattled away through this
+busy, eager, immense throng, until they got down to the comparative
+quiet of Bury Street; and here they were fortunate enough to find not
+only that Macleod's old rooms were unoccupied, but that his companion
+could have the corresponding chambers on the floor above. They changed
+their attire; had breakfast; and then proceeded to discuss their plans
+for the day. Major Stuart observed that he was in no hurry to
+investigate the last modifications of the drying-machines. It would be
+necessary to write and appoint an interview before going down into
+Essex. He had several calls to make in London; if Macleod did not see
+him before, they should meet at seven for dinner. Macleod saw him depart
+without any great regret.</p>
+
+<p>When he himself went outside it was already noon, but the sun had not
+yet broken through the mist, and London seemed cold, and lifeless, and
+deserted. He did not know of any one of his former friends being left in
+the great and <a name="Page_164" id="Page_164" />lonely city. He walked along Piccadilly, and saw how many
+of the houses were shut up. The beautiful foliage of the Green Park had
+vanished; and here and there a red leaf hung on a withered branch. And
+yet, lonely as he felt in walking through this crowd of strangers, he
+was nevertheless possessed with a nervous and excited fear that at any
+moment he might have to quail before the inquiring glance of a certain
+pair of calm, large eyes. Was this, then, really Keith Macleod who was
+haunted by these fantastic troubles? Had he so little courage that he
+dared not go boldly up to her house and hold out his hand to her? As he
+walked along this thoroughfare, he was looking far ahead; and when any
+tall and slender figure appeared that might by any possibility be taken
+for hers, he watched it with a nervous interest that had something of
+dread in it. So much for the high courage born of love!</p>
+
+<p>It was with some sense of relief that he entered Hyde Park, for here
+there were fewer people. And as he walked on, the day brightened. A
+warmer light began to suffuse the pale mist lying over the black-green
+masses of rhododendrons, the leafless trees, the damp grassplots, the
+empty chairs; and as he was regarding a group of people on horseback
+who, almost at the summit of the red hill, seemed about to disappear
+into the mist, behold! a sudden break in the sky; a silvery gleam shot
+athwart from the south, so that these distant figures grew almost black;
+and presently the frail sunshine of November was streaming all over the
+red ride and the raw green of the grass. His spirits rose somewhat. When
+he reached the Serpentine, the sunlight was shining on the rippling blue
+water; and there were pert young ladies of ten or twelve feeding the
+ducks; and away on the other side there was actually an island amidst
+the blue ripples; and the island, if it was not as grand as Staffa nor
+as green as Ulva, was nevertheless an island, and it was pleasant enough
+to look at, with its bushes, and boats, and white swans. And then he
+bethought him of his first walks by the side of this little lake&mdash;when
+Oscar was the only creature in London he had to concern himself
+with&mdash;when each new day was only a brighter holiday than its
+predecessor&mdash;when he was of opinion that London was the happiest and
+most beautiful place in the world; and of that bright morning, too, when
+he walked through the empty streets at dawn, and came to the peacefully
+flowing river.</p>
+
+<p>These idle meditations were suddenly interrupted. Away <a name="Page_165" id="Page_165" />along the bank
+of the lake his keen eye could make out a figure, which, even at that
+distance, seemed so much to resemble one he knew, that his heart began
+to beat quick. Then the dress&mdash;all of black, with a white hat and white
+gloves; was not that of the simplicity that had always so great an
+attraction for her? And he knew that she was singularly fond of
+Kensington Gardens; and might she not be going thither for a stroll
+before going back to the Piccadilly Theater? He hastened his steps. He
+soon began to gain on the stranger; and the nearer he got the more it
+seemed to him that he recognized the graceful walk and carriage of this
+slender woman. She passed under the archway of the bridge. When she had
+emerged from the shadow, she paused for a moment or two to look at the
+ducks on the lake; and this arch of shadow seemed to frame a beautiful
+sunlit picture&mdash;the single figure against a background of green bushes.
+And if this were indeed she, how splendid the world would all become in
+a moment! In his eagerness of anticipation he forgot his fear. What
+would she say? Was he to hear her laugh once more, and take her hand?
+Alas! When he got close enough to make sure, he found that his beautiful
+figure belonged to a somewhat pretty, middle-aged lady, who had brought
+a bag of scraps with her to feed the ducks. The world grew empty again.
+He passed on, in a sort of dream. He only knew he was in Kensington
+Gardens; and that once or twice he had walked with her down those broad
+alleys in the happy summer-time of flowers, and sunshine, and the scent
+of limes. Now there was a pale blue mist in the open glades; and a
+gloomy purple instead of the brilliant green of the trees; and the cold
+wind that came across rustled the masses of brown orange leaves that
+were lying scattered on the ground. He got a little more interested when
+he neared the Round Pond; for the wind had freshened; and there were
+several handsome craft out there on the raging deep, braving well the
+sudden squalls that laid them right on their beam-ends, and then let
+them come staggering and dripping up to windward. But there were two
+small boys there who had brought with them a tiny vessel of home-made
+build, with a couple of lugsails, a jib, and no rudder; and it was a
+great disappointment to them that this nondescript craft would move, if
+it moved at all, in an uncertain circle. Macleod came to their
+assistance&mdash;got a bit of floating stick, and carved out of it a rude
+rudder, altered the sails, and altogether put the ship into such
+sea-going trim that, when she <a name="Page_166" id="Page_166" />was fairly launched, she kept a pretty
+good course for the other side, where doubtless she arrived in safety,
+and discharged her passengers and cargo. He was almost sorry to part
+with the two small ship-owners. They almost seemed to him the only
+people he knew in London.</p>
+
+<p>But surely he had not come all the way from Castle Dare to walk about
+Kensington Gardens! What had become of that intense longing to see
+her&mdash;to hear her speak&mdash;that had made his life at home a constant
+torment and misery? Well, it still held possession of him; but all the
+same there was this indefinable dread that held him back. Perhaps he was
+afraid that he would have to confess to her the true reason for his
+having come to London. Perhaps he feared he might find her something
+entirely different from the creature of his dreams. At all events as he
+returned to his room and sat down by himself to think over all the
+things that might accrue from this step of his, he only got farther and
+farther into a haze of nervous indecision. One thing only was clear to
+him: with all his hatred and jealousy of the theatre, to the theatre
+that night he would have to go. He could not know that she was so near
+to him&mdash;that at a certain time and place he would certainly see her and
+listen to her&mdash;without going. He bethought him, moreover, of what he had
+once heard her say&mdash;that while she could fairly well make out the people
+in the galleries and boxes, those who were sitting in the stalls close
+to the orchestra were, by reason of the glare of the foot-lights, quite
+invisible to her. Might he not, then, get into some corner where,
+himself unseen, he might be so near to her that he could almost stretch
+out his hand to her and take her hand, and tell, by its warmth and
+throbbing, that it was a real woman, and not a dream, that filled his
+heart?</p>
+
+<p>Major Stuart was put off by some excuse, and at eight o'clock Macleod
+walked up to the theatre. He drew near with some apprehension; it almost
+seemed to him as though the man in the box-office recognized him, and
+knew the reason for his demanding one of those stalls. He got it easily
+enough; there was no great run on the new piece, even though Miss
+Gertrude White was the heroine. He made his way along the narrow
+corridors; he passed into the glare of the house; he took his seat with
+his ears dinned by the loud music, and waited. He paid no heed to his
+neighbors; he had already twisted up the programme so that he could not
+<a name="Page_167" id="Page_167" />have read it if he had wished; he was aware mostly of a sort of
+slightly choking sensation about the throat.</p>
+
+<p>When Gertrude White did appear&mdash;she came in unexpectedly&mdash;he almost
+uttered a cry: and it would have been a cry of delight. For there was a
+flesh and blood woman, a thousand times more interesting, and beautiful,
+and lovable than all his fancied pictures of her. Look how she
+walks&mdash;how simply and gracefully she takes off her hat and places it on
+the table! Look at the play of light, and life, and gladness on her
+face&mdash;at the eloquence of her eyes! He had been thinking of her eyes as
+too calmly observant and serious: he saw them now, and was amazed at the
+difference&mdash;they seemed to have so much clear light in them, and
+pleasant laughter. He did not fear at all that she should see him. She
+was so near&mdash;he wished he could take her hand and lead her away. What
+concern had these people around with her? This was Gertrude White&mdash;whom
+he knew. She was a friend of Mrs. Ross's; she lived in a quiet little
+home, with an affectionate and provoking sister; she had a great
+admiration for Oscar the collie; she had the whitest hand in the world
+as she offered you some salad at the small, neat table. What was she
+doing here&mdash;amidst all this glaring sham&mdash;before all these people?
+&quot;<i>Come away quickly!</i>&quot; his heart cried to her. &quot;<i>Quick&mdash;quick&mdash;let us
+get away together: there is some mistake&mdash;some illusion: outside you
+will breathe the fresh air, and get into the reality of the world again;
+and you will ask about Oscar, and young Ogilvie: and one might hold your
+hand&mdash;your real warm hand&mdash;and perhaps hold it tight, and not give it up
+to any one whatsoever!</i>&quot; His own hand was trembling with excitement. The
+eagerness of delight with which he listened to every word uttered by the
+low-toned and gentle voice was almost painful; and yet he knew it not.
+He was as one demented. This was Gertrude White&mdash;speaking, walking,
+smiling, a fire of beauty in her clear eyes; her parted lips when she
+laughed letting the brilliant light just touch for an instant the
+milk-white teeth. This was no pale Rose Leaf at all&mdash;no dream or
+vision&mdash;but the actual laughing, talking, beautiful woman, who had more
+than ever of that strange grace and witchery about her that had
+fascinated him when first he saw her. She was so near that he could have
+thrown a rose to her&mdash;a red rose, full blown and full scented. He
+forgave the theatre&mdash;or rather he forgot it&mdash;in the unimaginable delight
+of being so near her. And when at length she <a name="Page_168" id="Page_168" />left the stage, he had no
+jealousy of the poor people who remained there to go through their
+marionette business. He hoped they might all become great actors and
+actresses. He even thought he would try to get to understand the
+story&mdash;seeing he should have nothing else to do until Gertrude White
+came back again.</p>
+
+<p>Now Keith Macleod was no more ignorant or innocent than anybody else;
+but there was one social misdemeanor&mdash;mere peccadillo, let us say&mdash;that
+was quite unintelligible to him. He could not understand how a man could
+go flirting after a married woman; and still less could he understand
+how a married woman should, instead of attending to her children and her
+house and such matters, make herself ridiculous by aping girlhood and
+pretending to have a lover. He had read a great deal about this, and he
+was told it was common; but he did not believe it. The same authorities
+assured him that the women of England were drunkards in secret; he did
+not believe it. The same authorities insisted that the sole notion of
+marriage that occupied the head of an English girl of our own day was as
+to how she should sell her charms to the highest bidder; he did not
+believe that either. And indeed he argued with himself, in considering
+to what extent books and plays could be trusted in such matters, that in
+one obvious case the absurdity of these allegations was proved. If
+France were the France of French playwrights and novelists, the whole
+business of the country would come to a standstill. If it was the sole
+and constant occupation of every adult Frenchman to run after his
+neighbor's wife, how could bridges be built, taxes collected,
+fortifications planned? Surely a Frenchman must sometimes think, if only
+by accident, of something other than his neighbor's wife? Macleod
+laughed to himself in the solitude of Castle Dare, and contemptuously
+flung the unfinished paper-covered novel aside.</p>
+
+<p>But what was his surprise and indignation&mdash;his shame, even&mdash;on finding
+that this very piece in which Gertrude White was acting was all about a
+jealous husband, and a gay and thoughtless wife, and a villain who did
+not at all silently plot her ruin, but frankly confided his aspirations
+to a mutual friend, and rather sought for sympathy; while she, Gertrude
+White herself, had, before all these people, to listen to advances
+which, in her innocence, she was not supposed to understand. As the play
+proceeded, his brows grew darker and darker. And the husband, who ought
+to have been the <a name="Page_169" id="Page_169" />guardian of his wife's honor? Well, the husband in
+this rather poor play was a creation that is common in modern English
+drama. He represented one idea at least that the English playwright has
+certainly not borrowed from the French stage. Moral worth is best
+indicated by a sullen demeanor. The man who has a pleasant manner is
+dangerous and a profligate; the virtuous man&mdash;the true-hearted
+Englishman&mdash;conducts himself as a boor, and proves the goodness of his
+nature by his silence and his sulks. The hero of this trumpery piece was
+of this familiar type. He saw the gay fascinator coming about his house;
+but he was too proud and dignified to interfere. He knew of his young
+wife becoming the byword of his friends; but he only clasped his hands
+on his forehead, and sought solitude, and scowled as a man of virtue
+should. Macleod had paid but little attention to stories of this kind
+when he had merely read them; but when the situation was visible&mdash;when
+actual people were before him&mdash;the whole thing looked more real, and his
+sympathies became active enough. How was it possible, he thought, for
+this poor dolt to fume and mutter, and let his innocent wife go her own
+way alone and unprotected, when there was a door in the room, and a
+window by way of alternative? There was one scene in which the faithless
+friend and the young wife were together in her drawing-room. He drew
+nearer to her; he spake softly to her; he ventured to take her hand. And
+while he was looking up appealingly to her, Macleod was regarding his
+face. He was calculating to himself the precise spot between the eyes
+where a man's knuckles would most effectually tell; and his hand was
+clinched, and his teeth set hard. There was a look on his face which
+would have warned any gay young man that when Macleod should marry, his
+wife would need no second champion.</p>
+
+<p>But was this the atmosphere by which she was surrounded? It is needless
+to say that the piece was proper enough. Virtue was triumphant; vice
+compelled to sneak off discomfited. The indignant outburst of shame, and
+horror, and contempt on the part of the young wife, when she came to
+know what the villain's suave intentions really meant, gave Miss White
+an excellent opportunity of displaying her histrionic gifts; and the
+public applauded vehemently; but Macleod had no pride in her triumph. He
+was glad when the piece ended&mdash;when the honest-hearted Englishman so far
+recovered speech as to declare that his confidence in his wife was
+restored, and so far forgot his stolidity of face and de<a name="Page_170" id="Page_170" />meanor as to
+point out to the villain the way to the door instead of kicking him
+thither. Macleod breathed more freely when he knew that Gertrude White
+was now about to go away to the shelter and quiet of her own home. He
+went back to his rooms, and tried to forget the precise circumstances in
+which he had just seen her.</p>
+
+<p>But not to forget herself. A new gladness filled his heart when he
+thought of her&mdash;thought of her not now as a dream or a vision, but as
+the living and breathing woman whose musical laugh seemed still to be
+ringing in his ears. He could see her plainly&mdash;the face all charged with
+life and loveliness; the clear bright eyes that he had no longer any
+fear of meeting; the sweet mouth with its changing smiles. When Major
+Stuart came home that night he noticed a most marked change in the
+manner of his companion. Macleod was excited, eager, talkative; full of
+high spirits and friendliness; he joked his friend about his playing
+truant from his wife. He was anxious to know all about the major's
+adventures, and pressed him to have but one other cigar, and vowed that
+he would take him on the following evening to the only place in London
+where a good dinner could be had. There was gladness in his eyes, a
+careless satisfaction in his manner; he was ready to do anything, go
+anywhere. This was more like the Macleod of old. Major Stuart came to
+the conclusion that the atmosphere of London had had a very good effect
+on his friend's spirits.</p>
+
+<p>When Macleod went to bed that night there were wild and glad desires and
+resolves in his brain that might otherwise have kept him awake but for
+the fatigue he had lately endured. He slept, and he dreamed; and the
+figure that he saw in his dreams&mdash;though she was distant, somehow&mdash;had a
+look of tenderness in her eyes, and she held a red rose in her hand.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII" />CHAPTER XXII.</h2>
+
+<h3>DECLARATION.</h3>
+
+
+<p>November though it was, next morning broke brilliantly over London.
+There was a fresh west wind blowing; there was a clear sunshine filling
+the thoroughfares; if one were on <a name="Page_171" id="Page_171" />the lookout for picturesqueness even
+in Bury Street, was there not a fine touch of color where the softly red
+chimney-pots rose far away into the blue? It was not possible to have
+always around one the splendor of the northern sea.</p>
+
+<p>And Macleod would not listen to a word his friend had to say concerning
+the important business that had brought them both to London.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To-night, man&mdash;to-night&mdash;we will arrange it all to-night,&quot; he would
+say, and there was a nervous excitement about his manner for which the
+major could not at all account.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sha'n't I see you till the evening, then?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; Macleod said, looking anxiously out of the window, as if he feared
+some thunder-storm would suddenly shut out the clear light of this
+beautiful morning. &quot;I don't know&mdash;perhaps I may be back before&mdash;but at
+any rate we meet at seven. You will remember&mdash;seven?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed I am not likely to forget it,&quot; his companion said, for he had
+been told about five-and-thirty times.</p>
+
+<p>It was about eleven o'clock when Macleod left the house. There was a
+grateful freshness about the morning even here in the middle of London.
+People looked cheerful; Piccadilly was thronged with idlers come out to
+enjoy the sunshine; there was still a leaf or two fluttering on the
+trees in the square. Why should this man go eagerly tearing away
+northward in a hansom&mdash;with an anxious and absorbed look on his
+face&mdash;when everybody seemed inclined to saunter leisurely along,
+breathing the sweet wind, and feeling the sunlight on their cheek?</p>
+
+<p>It was scarcely half-past eleven when Macleod got out of the hansom, and
+opened a small gate, and walked up to the door of a certain house. He
+was afraid she had already gone. He was afraid she might resent his
+calling at so unusual an hour. He was afraid&mdash;of a thousand things. And
+when at last the trim maid-servant told him that Miss White was within,
+and asked him to step into the drawing-room, it was almost as one in a
+dream that he followed her. As one in a dream, truly; but nevertheless
+he saw every object around him with a marvellous vividness. Next day he
+could recollect every feature of the room&mdash;the empty fireplace, the
+black-framed mirror, the Chinese fans, the small cabinets with their
+shelves of blue and white, and the large open book on the table, with a
+bit of tartan lying on it. These things seemed to impress themselves on
+his eyesight involuntarily; for he was in reality intently listening for
+a soft footfall outside the <a name="Page_172" id="Page_172" />door. He went forward to this open book. It
+was a volume of a work on the Highland clans&mdash;a large and expensive work
+that was not likely to belong to Mr. White. And this colored figure? It
+was the representative of the clan Macleod: and this bit of cloth that
+lay on the open book was of the Macleod tartan. He withdrew quickly, as
+though he had stumbled on some dire secret. He went to the window. He
+saw only leafless trees now, and withered flowers; with the clear
+sunshine touching the sides of houses and walls that had in the summer
+months been quite invisible.</p>
+
+<p>There was a slight noise behind him; he turned, and all the room seemed
+filled with a splendor of light and of life as she advanced to him&mdash;the
+clear, beautiful eyes full of gladness, the lips smiling, the hand
+frankly extended. And of a sudden his heart sank. Was it indeed of her,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;The glory of life, the beauty of the world,&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>that he had dared to dream wild and impossible dreams? He had set out
+that morning with a certain masterful sense that he would face his fate.
+He had &quot;taken the world for his pillow,&quot; as the Gaelic stories say. But
+at this sudden revelation of the incomparable grace, and
+self-possession, and high loveliness of this beautiful creature, all his
+courage and hopes fled instantly, and he could only stammer out excuses
+for his calling so early. He was eagerly trying to make himself out an
+ordinary visitor. He explained that he did not know but that she might
+be going to the theatre during the day. He was in London for a short
+time on business. It was an unconscionable hour.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I am so glad to see you!&quot; she said, with a perfect sweetness, and
+her eyes said more than her words. &quot;I should have been really vexed if I
+had heard you had passed through London without calling on us. Won't you
+sit down?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he sat down, she turned for a second, and without any embarrassment
+shut the big book that had been lying open on the table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is very beautiful weather,&quot; she remarked&mdash;there was no tremor about
+<i>her</i> fingers, at all events, as she made secure the brooch that
+fastened the simple morning-dress at the neck, &quot;only it seems a pity to
+throw away such beautiful sunshine on withered gardens and bare trees.
+We have some fine chrysanthemums, though; but I confess I don't like
+chrysanthemums myself. They come at a wrong time. <a name="Page_173" id="Page_173" />They look unnatural.
+They only remind one of what is gone. If we are to have winter, we ought
+to have it out and out. The chrysanthemums always seem to me as if they
+were making a pretence&mdash;trying to make you believe that there was still
+some life left in the dead garden.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was very pretty talk, all this about chrysanthemums, uttered in the
+low-toned, and gentle, and musical voice; but somehow there was a
+burning impatience in his heart, and a bitter sense of hopelessness, and
+he felt as though he would cry out in his despair. How could he sit
+there and listen to talk about chrysanthemums? His hands were tightly
+clasped together; his heart was throbbing quickly; there was a humming
+in his ears, as though something there refused to hear about
+chrysanthemums.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I&mdash;I saw you at the theatre last night,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps it was the abruptness of the remark that caused the quick blush.
+She lowered her eyes. But all the same she said, with perfect
+self-possession,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you like the piece?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he, too: was he not determined to play the part of an ordinary
+visitor?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not much of a judge,&quot; said he, lightly. &quot;The drawing-room scene is
+very pretty. It is very like a drawing-room. I suppose those are real
+curtains, and real pictures?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, it is all real furniture,&quot; said she.</p>
+
+<p>Thereafter, for a second, blank silence. Neither dared to touch that
+deeper stage question that lay next their hearts. But when Keith
+Macleod, in many a word of timid suggestion, and in the jesting letter
+he sent her from Castle Dare, had ventured upon that dangerous ground,
+it was not to talk about the real furniture of a stage drawing-room.
+However, was not this an ordinary morning call? His manner&mdash;his
+speech&mdash;everything said so but the tightly-clasped hands, and perhaps
+too a certain intensity of look in the eyes, which seemed anxious and
+constrained.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Papa, at least, is proud of our chrysanthemums,&quot; said Miss White,
+quickly getting away from the stage question. &quot;He is in the garden now.
+Will you go out and see him? I am sorry Carry has gone to school.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She rose. He rose also, and he was about to lift his hat from the table,
+when he suddenly turned to her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A drowning man will cry out; how can you prevent his crying out?&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174" />She was startled by the change in the sound of his voice, and still
+more by the almost haggard look of pain and entreaty in his eyes. He
+seized her hand; she would have withdrawn it, but she could not.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will listen. It is no harm to you. I must speak now, or I will
+die,&quot; said he, quite wildly; &quot;and if you think I am mad, perhaps you are
+right, but people have pity for a madman. Do you know why I have come to
+London? It is to see you. I could bear it no longer&mdash;the fire that was
+burning and killing me. Oh, it is no use my saying that it is love for
+you&mdash;I do not know what it is&mdash;but only that I must tell you, and you
+cannot be angry with me&mdash;you can only pity me and go away. That is
+it&mdash;it is nothing to you&mdash;you can go away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She burst into tears, and snatched her hand from him, and with both
+hands covered her face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah!&quot; said he, &quot;is it pain to you that I should tell you of this
+madness? But you will forgive me&mdash;and you will forget it&mdash;and it will
+not pain you to-morrow or any other day. Surely you are not to blame! Do
+you remember the days when we became friends? it seems a long time ago,
+but they were beautiful days, and you were very kind to me, and I was
+glad I had come to London to make so kind a friend. And it was no fault
+of yours that I went away with that sickness of the heart; and how could
+you know about the burning fire, and the feeling that if I did not see
+you I might as well be dead? And I will call you Gertrude for once only.
+Gertrude, sit down now&mdash;for a moment or two&mdash;and do not grieve any more
+over what is only a misfortune. I want to tell you. After I have spoken,
+I will go away, and there will be an end of the trouble.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She did sit down; her hands were clasped in piteous despair; he saw the
+tear drops on the long, beautiful lashes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if the drowning man cries?&quot; said he. &quot;It is only a breath. The
+waves go over him, and the world is at peace. And oh! do you know that I
+have taken a strange fancy of late&mdash;But I will not trouble you with
+that; you may hear of it afterward; you will understand, and know you
+have no blame, and there is an end of trouble. It is quite strange what
+fancies get into one's head when one is&mdash;sick&mdash;heart-sick. Do you know
+what I thought this morning? Will you believe it? Will you let the
+drowning man cry out in his madness? Why, I said to myself, 'Up now, and
+have courage! Up now, and be brave, and win a bride as they used to do
+<a name="Page_175" id="Page_175" />in the old stories.' And it was you&mdash;it was you&mdash;my madness thought of.
+'You will tell her,' I said to myself, 'of all the love and the worship
+you have for her, and your thinking of her by day and by night; and she
+is a woman, and she will have pity. And then in her surprise&mdash;why&mdash;' But
+then you came into the room&mdash;it is only a little while ago&mdash;but it seems
+for ever and ever away now&mdash;and I have only pained you&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She sprang to her feet; her face white, her lips proud and determined.
+And for a second she put her hands on his shoulders; and the wet, full,
+piteous eyes met his. But as rapidly she withdrew them&mdash;almost
+shuddering&mdash;and turned, away; and her hands were apart, each clasped,
+and she bowed her head. Gertrude White had never acted like that on any
+stage.</p>
+
+<p>And as for him, he stood absolutely dazed for a moment, not daring to
+think what that involuntary action might mean. He stepped forward, with
+a pale face and a bewildered air, and caught her hand. Her face she
+sheltered with the other, and she was sobbing bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gertrude,&quot; he said, &quot;what is it? What do you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The broken voice answered, though her face was turned aside,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is I who am miserable.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You who are miserable?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She turned and looked fair into his face, with her eyes all wet, and
+beautiful, and piteous.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't you see? Don't you understand?&quot; she said &quot;Oh, my good friend! of
+all the men in the world, you are the very last I would bring trouble
+to. And I cannot be a hypocrite with you. I feared something of this;
+and now the misery is that I cannot say to you, 'Here, take my hand. It
+is yours. You have won your bride.' I cannot do it. If we were both
+differently situated, it might be otherwise&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It might be otherwise!&quot; he exclaimed, with a sudden wonder. &quot;Gertrude,
+what do you mean? Situated? Is it only that? Look me in the face, now,
+and as you are a true woman tell me&mdash;if we were both free from all
+situation&mdash;if there were no difficulties&mdash;nothing to be thought
+of&mdash;could you give yourself to me? Would you really become my wife&mdash;you
+who have all the world flattering you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She dared not look him in the face. There was something about the
+vehemence of his manner that almost terri<a name="Page_176" id="Page_176" />fied her. But she answered
+bravely, in the sweet, low, trembling voice, and with downcast eyes,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I were to become the wife of any one, it is your wife I would like
+to be; and I have thought of it. Oh, I cannot be a hypocrite with you
+when I see the misery I have brought you! And I have thought of giving
+up all my present life, and all the wishes and dreams I have cherished,
+and going away and living the simple life of a woman. And under whose
+guidance would I try that rather than yours? You made me think. But it
+is all a dream&mdash;a fancy. It is impossible. It would only bring misery to
+you and to me&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But why&mdash;but why?&quot; he eagerly exclaimed; and there was a new light in
+his face. &quot;Gertrude, if you can say so much, why not say all? What are
+obstacles? There can be none if you have the fiftieth part of the love
+for me that I have for you! Obstacles!&quot; And he laughed with a strange
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>She looked up in his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And would it be so great a happiness for you? That would make up for
+all the trouble I have brought you?&quot; she said, wistfully; and his answer
+was to take both her hands in his, and there was such a joy in his heart
+that he could not speak at all. But she only shook her head somewhat
+sadly, and withdrew her hands, and sat down again by the table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is wrong of me even to think of it,&quot; she said. &quot;Today I might say
+'yes,' and to-morrow? You might inspire me with courage now; and
+afterward&mdash;I should only bring you further pain. I do not know myself. I
+could not be sure of myself. How could I dare drag you into such a
+terrible risk? It is better as it is. The pain you are suffering will
+go. You will come to call me your friend; and you will thank me that I
+refused. Perhaps I shall suffer a little too,&quot; she added, and once more
+she rather timidly looked up into his face. &quot;You do not know the
+fascination of seeing your scheme of life, that you have been dreaming
+about, just suddenly put before you for acceptance; and you want all
+your common sense to hold back. But I know it will be better&mdash;better for
+both of us. You must believe me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not believe you, and I will not believe you,&quot; said he, with a
+proud light in his eyes; &quot;and now you have said so much I am not going
+to take any refusal at all. Not now. Gertrude, I have courage for both
+of us: when you are timid, you will take my hand. Say it, then! A word
+only! You have already said all but that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177" />He seemed scarcely the same man who had appealed to her with the wild
+eyes and the haggard face. His look was radiant and proud. He spoke with
+a firm voice; and yet there was a great tenderness in his tone.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sure you love me,&quot; she said, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will see,&quot; he rejoined, with a firm confidence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I am not going to requite your love ill. You are too vehement. You
+think of nothing but the one end to it all. But I am a woman, and women
+are taught to be patient. Now you must let me think about all you have
+said.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you do not quite refuse?&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated for a moment or two.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must think for you as well as for myself,&quot; she said, in a scarcely
+audible voice. &quot;Give me time. Give me till the end of the week.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At this hour I will come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you will believe I have decided for the best&mdash;that I have tried
+hard to be fair to you as well as myself?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know you are too true a woman for anything else,&quot; he said; and then
+he added, &quot;Ah, well, now, you have had enough misery for one morning;
+you must dry your eyes now, and we will go out into the garden; and if I
+am not to say anything of all my gratitude to you&mdash;why? Because I hope
+there will be many a year to do that in, my angel of goodness!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She went to fetch a light shawl and a hat; he kept turning over the
+things on the table, his fingers trembling, his eyes seeing nothing. If
+they did see anything, it was a vision of the brown moors near Castle
+Dare, and a beautiful creature, clad all in cream-color and scarlet,
+drawing near the great gray stone house.</p>
+
+<p>She came into the room again; joy leaped to his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you follow me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a strangely subdued air about her manner as she led him to
+where her father was; perhaps she was rather tired after the varied
+emotions she had experienced; perhaps she was still anxious. He was not
+anxious. It was in a glad way that he addressed the old gentleman who
+stood there with a spade in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is indeed a beautiful garden,&quot; Macleod said, looking round on the
+withered leaves and damp soil; &quot;no wonder you look after it yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not gardening,&quot; the old man said, peevishly. &quot;I have been putting
+a knife in the ground&mdash;burying the hatchet, <a name="Page_178" id="Page_178" />you might call it. Fancy! A
+man sees an old hunting-knife in a shop at Gloucester&mdash;a hunting-knife
+of the time of Charles I., with a beautifully carved ivory handle; and
+he thinks he will make a present of it to me. What does he do but go and
+have it ground, and sharpened, and polished until if looks like
+something sent from Sheffield the day before yesterday!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You ought to be very pleased, pappy, you got it at all,&quot; said Gertrude
+White; but she was looking elsewhere, and rather absently too.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And so you have buried it to restore the tone?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have,&quot; said the old gentleman, marching off with the shovel to a sort
+of out house.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod speedily took his leave.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Saturday next at noon,&quot; said he to her, with no timidity in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said she, more gently, and with downcast eyes.</p>
+
+<p>He walked away from the house&mdash;he knew not whither. He saw nothing
+around him. He walked hard, sometimes talking to himself. In the
+afternoon he found himself in a village in Berkshire, close by which,
+fortunately, there was a railway station; and he had just time to get
+back to keep his appointment with Major Stuart.</p>
+
+<p>They sat down to dinner.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come, now, Macleod, tell me where you have been all day,&quot; said the
+rosy-faced soldier, carefully tucking his napkin under his chin.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod burst out laughing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Another day&mdash;another day, Stuart, I will tell you all about it. It is
+the most ridiculous story you ever heard in your life!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a strange sort of laughing, for there were tears in the younger
+man's eyes. But Major Stuart was too busy to notice; and presently they
+began to talk about the real and serious object of their expedition to
+London.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII" /><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179" />CHAPTER XXIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>A RED ROSE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>From nervous and unreasoning dread to overweening and extravagant
+confidence there was but a single bound. After the timid confession she
+had made, how could he have any further fear? He knew now the answer she
+must certainly give him. What but the one word &quot;<i>yes</i>&quot;&mdash;musical as the
+sound of summer seas&mdash;could fitly close and atone for all that long
+period of doubt and despair? And would she murmur it with the low, sweet
+voice, or only look it with the clear and lambent eyes? Once uttered,
+anyhow, surely the glad message would instantly wing its flight away to
+the far North; and Colonsay would hear; and the green shores of Ulva
+would laugh; and through all the wild dashing and roaring of the seas
+there would be a soft ringing as of wedding-bells. The Gometra men will
+have a good glass that night; and who will take the news to distant
+Fladda and rouse the lonely Dutchman from his winter sleep? There is a
+bride coming to Castle Dare!</p>
+
+<p>When Norman Ogilvie had even mentioned marriage, Macleod had merely
+shaken his head and turned away. There was no issue that way from the
+wilderness of pain and trouble into which he had strayed. She was
+already wedded&mdash;to that cruel art that was crushing the woman within
+her. Her ways of life and his were separated as though by unknown
+oceans. And how was it possible that so beautiful a woman&mdash;surrounded by
+people who petted and flattered her&mdash;should not already have her heart
+engaged? Even if she were free, how could she have bestowed a thought on
+him&mdash;a passing stranger&mdash;a summer visitor&mdash;the acquaintance of an hour?</p>
+
+<p>But no sooner had Gertrude White, to his sudden wonder, and joy, and
+gratitude, made that stammering confession, than the impetuosity of his
+passion leaped at once to the goal. He would not hear of any obstacles.
+He would not look at them. If she would but take his hand, he would lead
+her and guard her, and all would go well. And it was to this effect that
+he wrote to her day after day, pouring out all the confidences <a name="Page_180" id="Page_180" />of his
+heart to her, appealing to her, striving to convey to her something of
+his own high courage and hope. Strictly speaking, perhaps, it was not
+quite fair that he should thus have disturbed the calm of her
+deliberation. Had he not given her till the end of the week to come to a
+decision? But when, in his eagerness, he thought of some further reason,
+some further appeal, how could he remain silent? With the prize so near,
+he could not let it slip from his grasp through the consideration of
+niceties of conduct. By rights he ought to have gone up to Mr. White and
+begged for permission to pay his addresses to the old gentleman's
+daughter. He forgot all about that. He forgot that Mr. White was in
+existence. All his thinking from morning till night&mdash;and through much of
+the night too&mdash;was directed on her answer&mdash;the one small word filled
+with a whole worldful of light and joy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you will only say that one little word,&quot; he wrote to her, &quot;then
+everything else becomes a mere trifle. If there are obstacles, and
+troubles, and what not, we will meet them one by one, and dispose of
+them. There can be no obstacles, if we are of one mind; and we shall be
+of one mind sure enough, if you will say you will become my wife; for
+there is nothing I will not consent to; and I shall only be too glad to
+have opportunities of showing my great gratitude to you for the
+sacrifice you must make. I speak of it as a sacrifice; but I do not
+believe it is one&mdash;whatever you may think now&mdash;and whatever natural
+regret you may feel&mdash;you will grow to feel there was no evil done you
+when you were drawn away from the life that now surrounds you. And if
+you were to say 'I will become your wife only on one condition&mdash;that I
+am not asked to abandon my career as an actress,' still I would say
+'Become my wife.' Surely matters of arrangement are mere trifles&mdash;after
+you have given me your promise. And when you have placed your hand in
+mine (and the motto of the Macleods is <i>Hold Fast</i>), we can study
+conditions, and obstacles, and the other nonsense that our friends are
+sure to suggest, at our leisure. I think I already hear you say 'Yes;' I
+listen and listen, until I almost hear your voice. And if it is to be
+'Yes,' will you wear a red rose in your dress on Saturday? I shall see
+that before you speak. I will know what your
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'massage'">message</ins>
+ is, even if there
+are people about. One red rose only.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Macleod,&quot; said Major Stuart to him, &quot;did you come to London to write
+love-letters?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_181" id="Page_181" />Love-letters!&quot; he said, angrily; but then he laughed. &quot;And what did
+you come to London for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On a highly philanthropic errand,&quot; said the other, gravely, &quot;which I
+hope to see fulfilled to-morrow. And if we have a day or two to spare,
+that is well enough, for one cannot be always at work; but I did not
+expect to take a holiday in the company of a man who spends
+three-fourths of the day at a writing-desk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense!&quot; said Macleod, though there was some telltale color in his
+face. &quot;All the writing I have done to-day would not fill up twenty
+minutes. And if I am a dull companion, is not Norman Ogilvie coming to
+dinner to-night to amuse you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>While they were speaking, a servant brought in a card.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ask the gentleman to come up,&quot; Macleod said, and then he turned to his
+companion. &quot;What an odd thing! I was speaking to you a minute ago about
+that drag accident. And here is Beauregard himself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The tall, rough-visaged man&mdash;stooping slightly as though he thought the
+doorway was a trifle low&mdash;came forward and shook hands with Macleod, and
+was understood to inquire about his health, though what he literally
+said was, &quot;Hawya, Macleod, hawya?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I heard you were in town from Paulton&mdash;you remember, Paulton, who dined
+with you at Richmond. He saw you in a hansom yesterday; and I took my
+chance of finding you in your old quarters. What are you doing in
+London?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod briefly explained.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you?&quot; he asked, &quot;what has brought you to London? I thought you and
+Lady Beauregard were in Ireland.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We have just come over, and go down to Weatherill to-morrow. Won't you
+come down and shoot a pheasant or two before you return to the
+Highlands?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, the fact is,&quot; Macleod said, hesitatingly, &quot;my friend and I&mdash;by
+the way, let me introduce you&mdash;Lord Beauregard, Major Stuart&mdash;the fact
+is, we ought to go back directly after we have settled this business.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But a day or two won't matter. Now, let me see. Plymley comes to us on
+Monday next, I think. We could get up a party for you on the Tuesday;
+and if your friend will come with you, we shall be six guns, which I
+always think the best number.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The gallant major showed no hesitation whatever. The chance of blazing
+away at a whole atmosphereful of pheas<a name="Page_182" id="Page_182" />ants&mdash;for so he construed the
+invitation&mdash;did not often come in his way.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am quite sure a day or two won't make any difference,&quot; said he,
+quickly. &quot;In any case we were not thinking of going till Monday, and
+that would only mean an extra day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well,&quot; Macleod said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you will come down to dinner on the Monday evening. I will see if
+there is no alteration in the trains, and drop you a note with full
+instructions. Is it a bargain?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right. I must be off now. Good-by.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Major Stuart jumped to his feet with great alacrity, and warmly shook
+hands with the departing stranger. Then, when the door was shut, he went
+through a pantomimic expression of bringing down innumerable pheasants
+from every corner of the ceiling&mdash;with an occasional aim at the floor,
+where an imaginary hare was scurrying by.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Macleod. Macleod,&quot; said he, &quot;you are a trump. You may go on writing
+love-letters from now till next Monday afternoon. I suppose we will have
+a good dinner, too?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Beauregard is said to have the best <i>chef</i> in London; and I don't
+suppose they would leave so important a person in Ireland.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have my gratitude, Macleod&mdash;eternal, sincere, unbounded,&quot; the major
+said, seriously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But it is not I who am asking you to go and massacre a lot of
+pheasants,&quot; said Macleod; and he spoke rather absently, for he was
+thinking of the probable mood in which he would go down to Weatherill.
+One of a generous gladness and joy, the outward expression of an eager
+and secret happiness to be known by none? Or what if there were no red
+rose at all on her bosom when she advanced to meet him with sad eyes?</p>
+
+<p>They went down into Essex next day. Major Stuart was surprised to find
+that his companion talked not so much about the price of machines for
+drying saturated crops as about the conjectural cost of living in the
+various houses they saw from afar, set amidst the leafless trees of
+November.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You don't think of coming to live in England, do you?&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No&mdash;at least, not at present,&quot; Macleod said. &quot;Of course; one never
+knows what may turn up. I don't propose to live at Dare all my life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_183" id="Page_183" />Your wife might want to live in England,&quot; the major said, coolly.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod started and stared.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have been writing a good many letters of late,&quot; said his companion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And is that all?&quot; said Macleod, answering him in the Gaelic. &quot;You know
+the proverb&mdash;<i>Tossing the head will not make the boat row</i>. I am not
+married yet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The result of this journey was, that they agreed to purchase one of the
+machines for transference to the rainy regions of Mull; and then they
+returned to London. This was on Wednesday. Major Stuart considered they
+had a few days to idle by before the <i>battue;</i> Macleod was only
+excitedly aware that Thursday and Friday&mdash;two short November days&mdash;came
+between him and that decision which he regarded with an anxious joy.</p>
+
+<p>The day went by in a sort of dream. A pale fog hung over London: and as
+he wandered about he saw the tall houses rise faintly blue into the gray
+mist; and the great coffee-colored river, flushed with recent rains,
+rolled down between the pale embankments; and the golden-red globe of
+the sun, occasionally becoming visible through the mottled clouds, sent
+a ray of fire here and there on some window-pane or lamp.</p>
+
+<p>In the course of his devious wanderings&mdash;for he mostly went about
+alone&mdash;he made his way, with great trouble and perplexity, to the court
+in which the mother of Johnny Wickes lived; and he betrayed no shame at
+all in confronting the poor woman&mdash;half starved, and pale, and emaciated
+as she was&mdash;whose child he had stolen. It was in a tone of quite
+gratuitous pleasantry that he described to her how the small lad was
+growing brown and fat; and he had the audacity to declare to her that as
+he proposed to pay the boy the sum of one shilling per-week at present,
+he might as well hand over to her the three months' pay which he had
+already earned. And the woman was so amused at the notion of little
+Johnny Wickes being able to earn anything at all, that, when she
+received the money and looked at it, she burst out crying; and she had
+so little of the spirit of the British matron, and so little regard for
+the laws of her country, that she invoked Heaven knows what&mdash;Heaven does
+know what&mdash;blessings on the head of the very man who had carried her
+child into slavery.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And the first time I am going over to Oban,&quot; said he, &quot;<a name="Page_184" id="Page_184" />I will take him
+with me, and I will get a photograph of him made, and I will send you
+the photograph. And did you get the rabbits?&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, indeed, sir, I got the rabbits.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And it is a very fine poacher your son promises to be, for he got every
+one of the rabbits with his own snare, though I am thinking it was old
+Hamish was showing him how to use it. And I will say good-by to you
+now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The poor woman seemed to hesitate for a second.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If there was any sewing, sir,&quot; wiping her eyes with the corner of her
+apron, &quot;that I could do for your good lady, sir&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I am not married,&quot; said he, quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, well, indeed, sir,&quot; she said with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But if there is any lace, or sewing, or anything like that you can send
+to my mother, I have no doubt she will pay you for it as well as any one
+else&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was not thinking of paying, sir; but to show you I am not
+ungrateful,&quot; was the answer; and if she said <i>hun-grateful</i>, what
+matter? She was a woman without spirit; she had sold away her son.</p>
+
+<p>From this dingy court he made his way round to Covent Garden market, and
+he went into a florist's shop there.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want a bouquet,&quot; said he to the neat-handed maiden who looked up at
+him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir,&quot; said she; &quot;will you look at those in the window?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I want one,&quot; said he, &quot;with a single rose&mdash;a red rose&mdash;in the
+centre.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This proposition did not find favor in the eyes of the mild-mannered
+artist, who explained to him that something more important and ornate
+was necessary in the middle of a bouquet. He could have a circle of
+rose-buds, if he liked, outside; and a great white lily or camellia in
+the centre. He could have&mdash;this thing and the next; she showed him how
+she could combine the features of this bouquet with those of the next.
+But the tall Highlander remained obdurate.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said he, &quot;I think you are quite right. You are quite right, I am
+sure. But it is this that I would rather have&mdash;only one red rose in the
+centre, and you can make the rest what you like, only I think if they
+were smaller flowers, and all white, that would be better.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well,&quot; said the young lady, with a pleasing smile (she was rather
+good-looking herself). &quot;I will try what I can <a name="Page_185" id="Page_185" />do for you if you don't
+mind waiting. Will you take a chair?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was quite amazed by the dexterity with which those nimble fingers
+took from one cluster and another cluster the very flowers he would
+himself have chosen; and by the rapid fashion in which they were
+dressed, fitted, and arranged. The work of art grew apace.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you must have something to break the white,&quot; said she, smiling, &quot;or
+it will look too like a bride's bouquet;&quot; and with that&mdash;almost in the
+twinkling of an eye&mdash;she had put a circular line of dark purple-blue
+through the cream-white blossoms. It was a splendid rose that lay in the
+midst of all that beauty.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What price would you like to give, sir?&quot; the gentle Phyllis had said at
+the very outset. &quot;Half a guinea&mdash;fifteen shillings?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Give me a beautiful rose,&quot; said he, &quot;and I do not mind what the price
+is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And at last the lace-paper was put round; and a little further trimming
+and setting took place; and finally the bouquet was swathed in soft
+white wool and put into a basket.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall I take the address?&quot; said the young lady no doubt expecting that
+he would write it on the back of one of his cards. But no. He dictated
+the address, and then lay down the money. The astute young person was
+puzzled&mdash;perhaps disappointed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is there no message, sir?&quot; said she&mdash;&quot;no card?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; but you must be sure to have it delivered to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It shall be sent off at once,&quot; said she, probably thinking that this
+was a very foolish young man who did not know the ways of the world. The
+only persons of whom she had any experience who sent bouquets without a
+note or a letter were husbands, who were either making up a quarrel with
+their wives or going to the opera, and she had observed that on such
+occasions the difference between twelve-and-sixpence and fifteen
+shillings was regarded and considered.</p>
+
+<p>He slept but little that night; and next morning he got up nervous and
+trembling, like a drunken man, with half the courage and confidence,
+that had so long sustained him, gone. Major Stuart went out early. He
+kept pacing about the room until the frightfully slow half-hours went
+by; he hated the clock on the mantelpiece. And then, by a strong effort
+of will, he delayed starting until he should barely have time to reach
+her house by twelve o'clock, so that he should <a name="Page_186" id="Page_186" />have the mad delight of
+eagerly wishing the hansom had a still more furious speed. He had chosen
+his horse well. It wanted five minutes to the appointed hour when he
+arrived at the house.</p>
+
+<p>Did this trim maid-servant know? Was there anything of welcome in the
+demure smile? He followed her; his face was pale, though he knew it not;
+in the dusk of the room he was left alone.</p>
+
+<p>But what was this on the table? He almost uttered a cry as his
+bewildered eyes fixed themselves on it. The very bouquet he had sent the
+previous evening; and behold&mdash;behold!&mdash;the red rose wanting! And then,
+at the same moment, he turned; and there was a vision of something all
+in white&mdash;that came to him timidly&mdash;all in white but for the red star of
+love shining there. And she did not speak at all; but she buried her
+head in his bosom; and he held her hands tight.</p>
+
+<p>And now what will Ulva say&mdash;and the lonely shores of Fladda&mdash;and the
+distant Dutchman roused from his winter sleep amidst the wild waves? Far
+away over the white sands of Iona&mdash;and the sunlight must be shining
+there now&mdash;there is many a sacred spot fit for the solemn plighting of
+lovers' vows; and if there is any organ wanted, what more noble than the
+vast Atlantic rollers booming into the Bourg and Gribun caves? Surely
+they must know already; for the sea-birds have caught the cry; and there
+is a sound all through the glad rushing of the morning seas like the
+sound of wedding-bells. <i>There is a bride coming to Castle Dare</i>&mdash;the
+islands listen; and the wild sea calls again; and the green shores of
+Ulva grow greener still in the sunlight. There is a bride coming to
+Castle Dare; and the bride is dressed all in white&mdash;only she wears a red
+rose.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV" />CHAPTER XXIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>ENTHUSIASMS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>She was seated alone, her arms on the table, her head bent down. There
+was no red rose now in the white morning-dress, for she had given it to
+him when he left. The <a name="Page_187" id="Page_187" />frail November sunshine streamed into the room
+and put a shimmer of gold on the soft brown of her hair.</p>
+
+<p>It was a bold step she had taken, without counsel of any one. Her dream
+was now to give up everything that she had hitherto cared about, and to
+go away into private life to play the part of Lady Bountiful. And if
+doubts about the strength of her own resolution occasionally crossed her
+mind, could she not appeal for aid and courage to him who would always
+be by her side? When she became a Macleod, she would have to accept the
+motto of the Macleods. That motto is, <i>Hold Fast</i>.</p>
+
+<p>She heard her sister come into the house, and she raised her head.
+Presently Carry opened the door; and it was clear she was in high
+spirits.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Mopsy,&quot; said she&mdash;and this was a pet name she gave her sister Carry
+when the latter was in great favor&mdash;&quot;did you ever see such a morning in
+November? Don't you think papa might take us to Kew Gardens?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want to speak to you, Carry&mdash;come here,&quot; she said, gravely; and the
+younger sister went and stood by the table. &quot;You know you and I are
+thrown very much on each other; and we ought to have no secrets from
+each other; and we ought to be always quite sure of each other's
+sympathy. Now, Carry, you must be patient, you must be kind: if I don't
+get sympathy from you, from whom should I get it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Carry withdrew a step, and her manner instantly changed. Gertrude White
+was a very clever actress; but she had never been able to impose on her
+younger sister. This imploring look was all very fine; this appeal for
+sympathy was pathetic enough; but both only awakened Carry's suspicions.
+In their ordinary talk sisters rarely use such formal words as
+&quot;sympathy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you mean?&quot; said she, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There&mdash;already!&quot; exclaimed the other, apparently in deep
+disappointment. &quot;Just when I most need your kindness and sympathy, you
+show yourself most unfeeling&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish you would tell me what it is all about,&quot; Carry said,
+impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>The elder sister lowered her eyes, and her fingers began to work with a
+paper-knife that was lying there. Perhaps this was only a bit of
+stage-business: or perhaps she was really a little apprehensive about
+the effect of her announcement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_188" id="Page_188" />Carry,&quot; she said, in a low voice, &quot;I have promised to marry Sir Keith
+Macleod.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Carry uttered a slight cry of horror and surprise; but this too was only
+a bit of stage effect, for she had fully anticipated the disclosure.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Gertrude White!&quot; said she, apparently when she had recovered her
+breath. &quot;Well&mdash;I&mdash;I&mdash;I&mdash;never!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her language was not as imposing as her gestures; but then nobody had
+written the part for her; whereas her very tolerable acting was nature's
+own gift.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, Carry, be reasonable&mdash;don't be angry: what is the use of being
+vexed with what is past recalling? Any other sister would be very glad
+at such a time&mdash;&quot; These were the hurried and broken sentences with which
+the culprit sought to stave off the coming wrath. But, oddly enough,
+Miss Carry refrained from denunciations or any other stormy expression
+of her anger and scorn. She suddenly assumed a cold and critical air.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose,&quot; said she, &quot;before you allowed Sir Keith Macleod to ask you
+to become his wife, you explained to him our circumstances.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't understand you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You told him, of course, that you had a ne'er-do-well brother in
+Australia, who might at any moment appear and disgrace the whole
+family?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I told him nothing of the kind. I had no opportunity of getting into
+family affairs. And if I had, what has Tom got to do with Sir Keith
+Macleod? I had forgotten his very existence&mdash;no wonder, after eight
+years of absolute silence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Carry, having fired this shot, was off after other ammunition.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You told him you had sweethearts before?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I did not,&quot; said Miss Gertrude White, warmly, &quot;because it isn't
+true.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What?&mdash;Mr. Howson?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The orchestra leader in a provincial theatre!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes! but you did not speak so contemptuously of him then. Why, you
+made him believe he was another Mendelssohn!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are talking nonsense.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And Mr. Brook&mdash;you no doubt told him that Mr. Brook called on papa, and
+asked him to go down to Doctors' Commons and see for himself what money
+he would have&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what then? How can I prevent any idiotic boy who <a name="Page_189" id="Page_189" />chooses to turn
+me into a heroine from going and making a fool of himself?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Gertrude White!&quot; said Carry, solemnly. &quot;Will you sit there and tell
+me you gave him no encouragement?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is mere folly!&quot; the elder sister said, petulantly; as she rose and
+proceeded to put straight a few of the things about the room. &quot;I had
+hoped better things of you, Carry. I tell you of an important step I
+have taken in my life, and you bring out a lot of tattle and nonsense.
+However, I can act for myself. It is true, I had imagined something
+different. When I marry, of course, we shall be separated. I had looked
+forward to the pleasure of showing you my new home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where is it to be?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wherever my husband wishes it to be,&quot; she answered, proudly; but there
+was a conscious flush of color in her face as she uttered&mdash;for the first
+time&mdash;that word.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In the Highlands, I suppose, for he is not rich enough to have two
+houses,&quot; said Carry; which showed that she had been pondering over this
+matter before. &quot;And he has already got his mother and his old-maid
+sister, or whatever she is, in the house. You will make a pretty
+family!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This was a cruel thrust. When Macleod had spoken of the far home
+overlooking the Northern seas, what could be more beautiful than his
+picture of the noble and silver-haired dame, and of the gentle and
+loving cousin who was the friend and counsellor of the poor people
+around? And when he had suggested that some day or other Mr. White might
+bring his daughter to these remote regions to see all the wonders and
+the splendors of them, he told her how the beautiful mother would take
+her to this place and to that place, and how that Janet Macleod would
+pet and befriend her, and perhaps teach her a few words of the Gaelic,
+that she might have a kindly phrase for the passer-by. But this picture
+of Carry's!&mdash;a houseful of wrangling women!</p>
+
+<p>If she had had her will just then, she would instantly have recalled
+Macleod, and placed his courage and careless confidence between her and
+this cruel criticism. She had never, in truth, thought of these things.
+His pertinacity would not allow her. He had kept insisting that the only
+point for her to consider was whether she had sufficient love for him to
+enable her to answer his great love for her with the one word &quot;Yes.&quot;
+Thereafter, according to his showing, everything else was a mere trifle.
+Obstacles, troubles, de<a name="Page_190" id="Page_190" />lays?&mdash;he would hear of nothing of the sort. And
+although, while he was present, she had been inspired by something of
+this confident feeling, now when she was attacked in his absence she
+felt herself defenceless.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may be as disagreeable as you like, Carry,&quot; said she, almost
+wearily. &quot;I cannot help it. I never could understand your dislike to Sir
+Keith Macleod.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cannot you understand,&quot; said the younger sister, with some show of
+indignation, &quot;that if you are to marry at all, I should like to see you
+marry an Englishman, instead of a great Highland savage who thinks about
+nothing but beasts' skins. And why should you marry at all, Gertrude
+White? I suppose he will make you leave the theatre; and instead of
+being a famous woman whom everybody admires and talks about, you will be
+plain Mrs. Nobody, hidden away in some place, and no one will ever hear
+of you again! Do you know what you are doing? Did you ever hear of any
+woman making such a fool of herself before?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So far from being annoyed by this strong language, the elder sister
+seemed quite pleased.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know, Carry, I like to hear you talk like that,&quot; she said, with
+a smile. &quot;You almost persuade me that I am not asking him for too great
+a sacrifice, after all&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A sacrifice! On his part!&quot; exclaimed the younger sister; and then she
+added, with decision: &quot;but it shan't be, Gertrude White! I will go to
+papa.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pardon me,&quot; said the elder sister, who was nearer the door, &quot;you need
+not trouble yourself: I am going now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She went into the small room which was called her father's study, but
+which was in reality a sort of museum. She closed the door behind her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have just had the pleasure of an interview with Carry, papa,&quot; she
+said, with a certain bitterness of tone, &quot;and she has tried hard to make
+me as miserable as I can be. If I am to have another dose of it from
+you, papa, I may as well have it at once. I have promised to marry Sir
+Keith Macleod.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She sank down in an easy-chair. There was a look on her face which
+plainly said, &quot;Now do your worst; I cannot be more wretched than I am.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have promised to marry Sir Keith Macleod?&quot; he repeated, slowly, and
+fixing his eyes on her face.</p>
+
+<p>He did not break into any rage, and accuse Macleod of treachery or her
+of filial disobedience. He knew that she <a name="Page_191" id="Page_191" />was familiar with that kind of
+thing. What he had to deal with was the immediate future, not the past.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; she answered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; he said, with the same deliberation of tone, &quot;I suppose you have
+not come to me for advice, since you have, acted so far for yourself. If
+I were to give you advice, however, it would be to break your promise as
+soon as you decently can, both for his sake and for your own.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought you would say so,&quot; she said, with a sort of desperate mirth.
+&quot;I came to have all my wretchedness heaped on me at once. It is a very
+pleasing sensation. I wonder if I could express it on the stage. That
+would be making use of my new experiences&mdash;as you have taught me&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But here she burst into tears; and then got up and walked impatiently
+about the room; and finally dried her eyes, with shame and mortification
+visible on her face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What have <i>you</i> to say to me, papa? I am a fool to mind what a
+schoolgirl says.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know that I have anything to say,&quot; he observed, calmly. &quot;You
+know your own feelings best.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then he regarded her attentively.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose when you marry you will give up the stage.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose so,&quot; she said, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should doubt,&quot; he said, with quite a dispassionate air, &quot;your being
+able to play one part for a lifetime. You might get tired&mdash;and that
+would be awkward for your husband and yourself. I don't say anything
+about your giving up all your prospects, although I had great pride in
+you and a still greater hope. That is for your own consideration. If you
+think you will be happier&mdash;if you are sure you will have no regret&mdash;if,
+as I say, you think you can play the one part for a lifetime&mdash;well and
+good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you are right,&quot; she said, bitterly, &quot;to speak of me as an actress,
+and not as a human being. I must be playing a part to the end, I
+suppose. Perhaps so. Well, I hope I shall please my smaller audience as
+well as I seem to have pleased the bigger one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then she altered her tone.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I told you, papa, the other day of my having seen that child run over
+and brought back to the woman who was standing on the pavement.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said he; but wondering why this incident should be referred to at
+such a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_192" id="Page_192" />I did not tell you the truth&mdash;at least the whole truth. When I walked
+away, what was I thinking of? I caught myself trying to recall the way
+in which the woman threw her arms up when she saw the dead body of her
+child, and I was wondering whether I could repeat it. And then I began
+to wonder whether I was a devil&mdash;or a woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bah!&quot; said he. &quot;That is a craze you have at present. You have had fifty
+others before. What I am afraid of is that, at the instigation of some
+such temporary fad, you will take a step that you will find irrevocable.
+Just think it over, Gerty. If you leave the stage, you will destroy many
+a hope I had formed; but that doesn't matter. Whatever is most for your
+happiness&mdash;that is the only point.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And so you have given me your congratulations, papa,&quot; she said, rising.
+&quot;I have been so thoroughly trained to be an actress that, when I marry,
+I shall only go from one stage to another.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was only a figure of speech,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At all events,&quot; she said, &quot;I shall not be vexed by petty jealousies of
+other actresses, and I shall cease to be worried and humiliated by what
+they say about me in the provincial newspapers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As for the newspapers,&quot; he retorted, &quot;you have little to complain of.
+They have treated <i>you</i> very well. And even if they annoyed you by a
+phrase here or there, surely the remedy is simple. You need not read
+them. You don't require any recommendation to the public now. As for
+your jealousy of other actresses&mdash;that was always an unreasonable
+vexation on your part&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, and that only made it the more humiliating to myself,&quot; said she,
+quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But think of this,&quot; said he. &quot;You are married. You have been long away
+from the scene of your former triumphs. Some day you go to the theatre;
+and you find as the favorite of the public a woman who, you can see,
+cannot come near to what you used to do. And I suppose you won't be
+jealous of her, and anxious to defeat her on the old ground.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can do with that as you suggested about the newspapers: I need not go
+to the theatre.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, Gerty. I hope all will be for the best. But do not be in a
+hurry; take time and consider.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She saw clearly enough that this calm acquiescence was <a name="Page_193" id="Page_193" />all the
+congratulation or advice she was likely to get; and she went to the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Papa,&quot; said she, diffidently, &quot;Sir Keith Macleod is coming up to-morrow
+morning&mdash;to go to church with us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes?&quot; said he, indifferently.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He may speak to you before we go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well. Of course I have nothing to say in the matter. You are
+mistress of your own actions.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She went to her own room, and locked herself in, feeling very lonely,
+and disheartened, and miserable. There was more to alarm her in her
+father's faintly expressed doubts than in all Carry's vehement
+opposition and taunts. Why had Macleod left her alone?&mdash;if only she
+could see him laugh, her courage would be reassured.</p>
+
+<p>Then she bethought her that this was not a fit mood for one who had
+promised to be the wife of a Macleod. She went to the mirror and
+regarded herself; and almost unconsciously an expression of pride and
+resolve appeared about the lines of her mouth. And she would show to
+herself that she had still a woman's feelings by going out and doing
+some actual work of charity; she would prove to herself that the
+constant simulation of noble emotions had not deadened them in her own
+nature. She put on her hat and shawl, and went downstairs, and went out
+into the free air and the sunlight&mdash;without a word to either Carry or
+her father. She was trying to imagine herself as having already left the
+stage and all its fictitious allurements. She was now Lady Bountiful:
+having looked after the simple cares of her household she was now ready
+to cast her eyes abroad, and relieve in so far as she might the distress
+around her. The first object of charity she encountered was an old
+crossing-sweeper. She addressed him in a matter-of-fact way which was
+intended to conceal her fluttering self-consciousness. She inquired
+whether he had a wife; whether he had any children; whether they were
+not rather poor. And having been answered in the affirmative on all
+these points, she surprised the old man by giving him five shillings and
+telling him to go home and get a good warm dinner for his family. She
+passed on, and did not observe that, as soon as her back was turned, the
+old wretch made straight for the nearest public-house.</p>
+
+<p>But her heart was happy; and her courage rose. It was not for nothing,
+then, that she had entertained the bold resolve of casting aside forever
+the one great ambition of her life&mdash;with all its intoxicating successes,
+and hopes, and strugg<a name="Page_194" id="Page_194" />les&mdash;for the homely and simple duties of an
+ordinary woman's existence. It was not in vain that she had read and
+dreamed of the far romantic land, and had ventured to think of herself
+as the proud wife of Macleod of Dare. Those fierce deeds of valor and
+vengeance that had terrified and thrilled her would now become part of
+her own inheritance: why, she could tell her friends, when they came to
+see her, of all the old legends and fairy stories that belonged to her
+own home. And the part of Lady Bountiful&mdash;surely, if she must play some
+part that was the one she would most dearly like to play. And the years
+would go by; and she would grow silver-haired too; and when she lay on
+her deathbed she would take her husband's hand and say, &quot;Have I lived
+the life you wished me to live?&quot; Her cheerfulness grew apace; and the
+walking, and the sunshine, and the fresh air brought a fine light and
+color to her eyes and cheeks. There was a song singing through her head;
+and it was all about the brave Glenogie who rode up the king's ha'.</p>
+
+<p>But as she turned the corner of a street, her eye rested on a huge
+colored placard&mdash;rested but for a moment, for she would not look on the
+great, gaudy thing. Just at this time a noble lord had shown his
+interest in the British drama by spending an enormous amount of money in
+producing, at a theatre of his own building, a spectacular burlesque,
+the gorgeousness of which surpassed anything that had ever been done in
+that way. And the lady who appeared to be playing (in silence mostly)
+the chief part in this hash of glaring color and roaring music and
+clashing armor had gained a great celebrity by reason of her handsome
+figure, and the splendor of her costume, and the magnificence of the
+real diamonds that she wore. All London was talking of her; and the vast
+theatre&mdash;even in November&mdash;was nightly crammed to overflowing. As
+Gertrude White walked back to her home her heart was filled with
+bitterness. She had caught sight of the ostentatious placard; and she
+knew that the photograph of the creature who was figuring there was in
+every stationer's shop in the Strand. And that which galled her was not
+that the theatre should be so taken and so used, but that the stage
+heroine of the hour should be a woman who could act no more than any
+baboon in the Zoological Gardens.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV" /><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195" />CHAPTER XXV.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN SUSSEX.</h3>
+
+
+<p>But as for him, there was no moderation at all in the vehemence of his
+joy. In the surprise and bewilderment of it, the world around him
+underwent transfiguration; London in November was glorified into an
+earthly paradise. The very people in the streets seemed to have kindly
+faces; Bury Street, St. James's&mdash;which is usually a somewhat misty
+thoroughfare&mdash;was more beautiful than the rose-garden of an Eastern
+king. And on this Saturday afternoon the blue skies did, indeed,
+continue to shine over the great city; and the air seemed sweet and
+clear enough, as it generally does to any one whose every heart-beat is
+only another throb of conscious gladness.</p>
+
+<p>In this first intoxication of wonder, and pride, and gratitude, he had
+forgotten all about these ingenious theories which, in former days, he
+had constructed to promise to himself that Gertrude White should give up
+her present way of life. Was it true, then, that he had rescued the
+white slave? Was it once and forever that Nature, encountering the
+subtle demon of Art, had closed and wrestled with the insidious thing,
+had seized it by the throat, and choked it, and flung it aside from the
+fair roadway of life? He had forgotten about these things now. All that
+he was conscious of was this eager joy, with now and again a wild wonder
+that he should indeed have acquired so priceless a possession. Was it
+possible that she would really withdraw herself from the eyes of all the
+world and give herself to him alone?&mdash;that some day, in the beautiful
+and laughing future, the glory of her presence would light up the dull
+halls of Castle Dare?</p>
+
+<p>Of course he poured all his pent-up confidence into the ear of the
+astonished major, and again and again expressed his gratitude to his
+companion for having given him the opportunity of securing this
+transcendent happiness. The major was somewhat frightened. He did not
+know in what measure he might be regarded as an accomplice by the
+silver-haired lady of Castle Dare. And in any case he was alarmed by the
+vehemence of the young man.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_196" id="Page_196" />My dear Macleod,&quot; said he, with an oracular air, &quot;you never have any
+hold on yourself. You fling the reins on the horse's neck, and gallop
+down hill; a very slight check would send you whirling to the bottom.
+Now, you should take the advice of a man of the world, who is older than
+you, and who&mdash;if I may say so&mdash;has kept his eyes open. I don't want to
+discourage you; but you should take it for granted that accidents may
+happen. I would feel the reins a little bit, if I were you. Once you've
+got her into the church, and see her with a white veil over her head,
+then you may be as perfervid as you like&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so the simple-minded major prattled on, Macleod paying but little
+heed. There had been nothing about Major Stuart's courtship and marriage
+to shake the world: why, he said to himself, when the lady was pleased
+to lend a favoring ear, was there any reason for making such a fuss?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your happiness will all depend on one thing,&quot; said he to Macleod, with
+a complacent wisdom in the round and jovial face. &quot;Take my word for it.
+I hear of people studying the character, the compatibilities, and what
+not, of other people; but I never knew of a young man thinking of such
+things when he was in love. He plunges in, and finds out afterward. Now
+it all comes this&mdash;is she likely, or not likely, to prove a sigher?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A what?&quot; said Macleod, apparently awakening from a trance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A sigher. A woman who goes about the house all day sighing, whether
+over your sins or her own, she won't tell you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed, I cannot say,&quot; Macleod said, laughing. &quot;I should hope not. I
+think she has excellent spirits.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah!&quot; said the major, thoughtfully; and he himself sighed. Perhaps he
+was thinking of a certain house far away in Mull, to which he had
+shortly to return.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod did not know how to show his gratitude toward this good-natured
+friend. He would have given him half a dozen banquets a day; and Major
+Stuart liked a London dinner. But what he did offer as a great reward
+was this: that Major Stuart should go up the next morning to a
+particular church, and take up a particular position in the church, and
+then&mdash;then he would get a glimpse of the most wonderful creature the
+world had seen. Oddly enough, the major did not eagerly accept this
+munificent offer. To another proposal&mdash;that he should go up to Mr.
+White's, on the <a name="Page_197" id="Page_197" />first day after their return from Sussex, and meet the
+young lady at luncheon&mdash;he seemed better inclined.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But why shouldn't we go to the theatre to-night?&quot; said he, in his
+simple way.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod looked embarrassed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Frankly, then, Stuart,&quot; said he, &quot;I don't want you to make her
+acquaintance as an actress.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, very well,&quot; said he, not greatly disappointed. &quot;Perhaps it is
+better. You see, I may be questioned at Castle Dare. Have you considered
+that matter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no,&quot; Macleod said, lightly and cheerfully, &quot;I have had time to
+consider nothing as yet. I can scarcely believe it to be all real. It
+takes a deal of hard thinking to convince myself that I am not
+dreaming.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But the true fashion in which Macleod showed his gratitude to his friend
+was in concealing his great reluctance on going down with him into
+Sussex. It was like rending his heart-strings for him to leave London
+for a single hour at this time. What beautiful confidences, and tender,
+timid looks, and sweet, small words he was leaving behind him in order
+to go and shoot a lot of miserable pheasants! He was rather gloomy when
+he met the major at Victoria Station. They got into the train; and away
+through the darkness of the November afternoon they rattled to Three
+Bridges; but all the eager sportsman had gone out of him, and he had
+next to nothing to say in answer to the major's excited questions.
+Occasionally he would rouse himself from this reverie, and he would talk
+in a perfunctory sort of fashion about the immediate business of a
+moment. He confessed that he had a certain theoretical repugnance to a
+<i>battue</i>, if it were at all like what people in the newspapers declared
+it to be. On the other hand, he could not well understand&mdash;judging by
+his experiences in the highlands&mdash;how the shooting of driven birds could
+be so marvellously easy; and he was not quite, sure that the writers he
+had referred to had had many opportunities of practising, or even
+observing, so very expensive an amusement. Major Stuart, for his part,
+freely admitted that he had no scruples whatever. Shooting birds, he
+roundly declared, was shooting birds, whether you shot two or two score.
+And he demurely hinted that, if he had his choice, he would rather shoot
+the two score.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mind you, Stuart,&quot; Macleod said, &quot;if we are posted anywhere near each
+other&mdash;mind you shoot at any bird that comes my way. I should like you
+to make a big bag that <a name="Page_198" id="Page_198" />you may talk about in Mull; and I really don't
+care about it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And this was the man whom Miss Carry had described as being nothing but
+a slayer of wild animals and a preserver of beasts' skins! Perhaps, in
+that imaginary duel between Nature and Art, the enemy was not so
+thoroughly beaten and thrown aside, after all.</p>
+
+<p>So they got to Three Bridges, and there they found the carriage awaiting
+them; and presently they were whirling away along the dark roads, with
+the lamps shining alternately on a line of hedge or on a long stretch of
+ivied brick wall. And at last they passed a lodge gate, and drove
+through a great and silent park; and finally, rattling over the gravel,
+drew up in front of some gray steps and a blaze of light coming from the
+wide-open doors. Under Lord Beauregard's guidance, they went into the
+drawing-room, and found a number of people idly chatting there, or
+reading by the subdued light of the various lamps on the small tables.
+There was a good deal of talk about the weather. Macleod, vaguely
+conscious that these people were only strangers, and that the one heart
+that was thinking of him was now far away, paid but little heed; if he
+had been told that the barometer predicted fifteen thunder-storms for
+the morrow, he would have been neither startled nor dismayed.</p>
+
+<p>But he managed to say to his host, aside:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Beauregard, look here. I suppose, in this sort of shooting, you have
+some little understanding with your head-keeper about the posts&mdash;who is
+to be a bit favored, you know. Well, I wish you would ask him to look
+after my friend Stuart. He can leave me out altogether, if he likes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear fellow, there will be scarcely any difference; but I will look
+after your friend myself. I suppose you have no guns with you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have borrowed Ogilvie's. Stuart has none.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will get one for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>By and by they went upstairs to their respective rooms, and Macleod was
+left alone, that is to say, he was scarcely aware of the presence of the
+man who was opening his portmanteau and putting out his things. He lay
+back in the low easy-chair, and stared absently into the blazing fire.
+This was a beautiful but a lonely house. There were many strangers in
+it. But if she had been one of the people below&mdash;if he could at this
+moment look forward to meeting her at dinner&mdash;if there was a chance of
+his sitting beside her and lis<a name="Page_199" id="Page_199" />tening to the low and sweet voice&mdash;with
+what an eager joy he would have waited for the sound of the bell! As it
+was, his heart was in London. He had no sort of interest in this big
+house, or in the strangers whom he had met, or in the proceedings of the
+morrow, about which all the men were talking. It was a lonely house.</p>
+
+<p>He was aroused by a tapping at the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come in,&quot; he said, and Major Stuart entered, blooming and roseate over
+his display of white linen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good gracious!&quot; said he, &quot;aren't you dressed yet? It wants but ten
+minutes to dinner-time. What have you been doing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod jumped up with some shamefacedness, and began to array himself
+quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Macleod,&quot; said the major, subsiding into the big armchair very
+carefully so as not to crease his shining shirt-front, &quot;I must give you
+another piece of advice. It is serious. I have heard again and again
+that when a man thinks only of one thing&mdash;when he keeps brooding over it
+day and night&mdash;he is bound to become mad. They call it monomania. You
+are becoming a monomaniac.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I think I am,&quot; Macleod said, laughing; &quot;but it is a very pleasant
+sort of monomania, and I am not anxious to become sane. But you really
+must not be hard on me, Stuart. You know that this is rather an
+important thing that has happened to me; and it wants a good deal of
+thinking over.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bah!&quot; the major cried, &quot;why take it so much <i>au grand serieux?</i> A girl
+likes you; says she'll marry you; probably, if she continues in the same
+mind, she will. Consider your self a lucky dog; and don't break your
+heart if an accident occurs. Hope for the best&mdash;that you and she mayn't
+quarrel, and that she mayn't prove a sigher. Now what do you think of
+this house? I consider it an uncommon good dodge to put each person's
+name outside his bedroom door; there can't be any confounded
+mistakes&mdash;and women squealing&mdash;if you come up late at night. Why,
+Macleod, you don't mean that this affair has destroyed all your interest
+in the shooting? Man, I have been down to the gun-room with your friend
+Beauregard; have seen the head-keeper; got a gun that suits me
+firstrate&mdash;a trifle long in the stock, perhaps, but no matter. You won't
+tip any more than the head-keeper, eh? And the fellow who carries your
+cartridge-bag? I do think it uncommonly civil of a man not only to ask
+you to go <a name="Page_200" id="Page_200" />shooting, but to find you in guns and cartridges; don't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The major chatted on with great cheerfulness. He clearly considered that
+he had got into excellent quarters. At dinner he told some of his most
+famous Indian stories to Lady Beauregard, near whom he was sitting; and
+at night, in the improvised smoking-room, he was great on deer-stalking.
+It was not necessary for Macleod, or anybody else, to talk. The major
+was in full flow, though he stoutly refused to touch the spirits on the
+table. He wanted a clear head and a steady hand for the morning.</p>
+
+<p>Alas! alas! The next morning presented a woful spectacle. Gray skies;
+heavy and rapidly drifting clouds; pouring rain; runnels of clear water
+by the side of every gravel-path; a rook or two battling with the
+squally south-wester high over the wide and desolate park: the
+wild-ducks at the margin of the ruffled lake flapping their wings as if
+the wet was too much even for them; nearer at hand the firs and
+evergreens all dripping. After breakfast the male guests wandered
+disconsolately into the cold billiard-room, and began knocking the balls
+about. All the loquacious cheerfulness of the major had fled. He looked
+out on the wet park and the sombre woods, and sighed.</p>
+
+<p>But about twelve o'clock there was a great hurry and confusion
+throughout the house; for all of a sudden the skies in the west cleared;
+there was a glimmer of blue; and then gleams of a pale wan light began
+to stream over the landscape. There was a rash to the gun-room, and an
+eager putting on of shooting-boots and leggings; there was a rapid tying
+up of small packages of sandwiches; presently the wagonette was at the
+door. And then away they went over the hard gravel, and out into the wet
+roads, with the sunlight now beginning to light up the beautiful woods
+about Crawley. The horses seemed to know there was no time to lose. A
+new spirit took possession of the party. The major's face glowed as red
+as the hip that here and there among the almost leafless hedges shone in
+the sunlight on the ragged brier stem.</p>
+
+<p>And yet it was about one o'clock before the work of the day began, for
+the beaters had to be summoned from various parts, and the small boys
+with the white flags&mdash;the &quot;stops&quot;&mdash;had to be posted so as to check
+runners. And then the six guns went down over a ploughed field&mdash;half
+clay and half chalk, and ankle deep&mdash;to the margin of a rapidly run<a name="Page_201" id="Page_201" />ning
+and coffee-colored stream, which three of them had to cross by means of
+a very shaky plank. Lord Beauregard, Major Stuart, and Macleod remained
+on this side, keeping a lookout for a straggler, but chiefly concerned
+with the gradually opening and brightening sky. Then far away they heard
+a slight tapping on the trees; and almost at the same moment another
+sound caused the hearts of the two novices to jump. It was a quick
+<i>cuck-cuck</i>, accompanied by a rapid and silken winnowing of the air.
+Then an object, which seemed like a cannon-ball with a long tail
+attached, came whizzing along. Major Stuart fired&mdash;a bad miss. Then he
+wheeled round, took good aim, and down came a mass of feathers,
+whirling, until it fell motionless on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well hit!&quot; Macleod cried; but at the same moment he became conscious
+that he had better mind his own business, for there was another whirring
+sound, and then he saw this rapidly enlarging object coming straight at
+him. He fired, and shot the bird dead; but so rapid was its flight that
+he had to duck his head as the slain bird drove past his face and
+tumbled on to the ground behind him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is rather like firing at bomb-shells,&quot; he called out to Lord
+Beauregard.</p>
+
+<p>It was certainly a new experience for Macleod to figure as a novice in
+any matter connected with shooting; but both the major and he speedily
+showed that they were not unfamiliar with the use of a gun. Whether the
+birds came at them like bomb-shells, or sprung like a sky-rocket through
+the leafless branches, they met with the same polite attention; though
+occasionally one would double back on the beaters and get clear away,
+sailing far into the silver-clear sky. Lord Beauregard scarcely shot at
+all, unless he was fairly challenged by a bird flying right past him: he
+seemed quite content to see his friends having plenty of work; while, in
+the interest of the beaters, he kept calling out, in a high monotone,
+&quot;Shoot high! shoot high!&quot; Then there was some motion among the
+brushwood; here and there a man or boy appeared; and finally the
+under-keeper with his retriever came across the stream to pick up the
+dead birds.</p>
+
+<p>That bit was done with: <i>vorwarts!</i></p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Stuart,&quot; Macleod said, &quot;what do you think of it? I don't see
+anything murderous or unsportsmanlike in this kind of shooting. Of
+course shooting with dogs is much prettier; and you don't get any
+exercise standing in a wet <a name="Page_202" id="Page_202" />field; but the man who says that shooting
+those birds requires no skill at all&mdash;well, I should like see him try.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Macleod,&quot; said the major, gravely, as they plodded along, &quot;you may
+think that I despise this kind of thing; but I don't: I give you my
+solemn word of honor that I don't. I will even go the length of saying
+that if Providence had blessed me with &pound;20,000 a year, I should be quite
+content to own a bit of country like this. I played the part of the wild
+mountaineer last night, you know; that was all very well&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here there was a loud call from Lord Beauregard, who had overtaken
+them&mdash;&quot;<i>Hare! hare! Mark hare?</i>&quot; The major jumped round, put up his gun,
+and banged away&mdash;shooting far ahead in his eagerness. Macleod looked on,
+and did not even raise his gun.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That comes of talking,&quot; the major said, gloomily. &quot;And you&mdash;why didn't
+you shoot? I never saw you miss a hare in my life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was not thinking of it,&quot; Macleod said, indifferently.</p>
+
+<p>It was very soon apparent that he was thinking of something other than
+the shooting of pheasants or hares; for as they went from one wood to
+another during this beautiful brief November day he generally carried
+his gun over his shoulder&mdash;even when the whirring, bright-plumaged birds
+were starting from time to time from the hedgerows&mdash;and devoted most of
+his attention to warning his friend when and where to shoot. However, an
+incident occurred which entirely changed the aspect of affairs. At one
+beat he was left quite alone, posted in an open space of low brushwood
+close by the corner of a wood. He rested the butt of his gun on his
+foot; he was thinking, not of any pheasant or hare, but of the beautiful
+picture Gertrude White would make if she were coming down one of these
+open glades, between the green stems of the trees, with the sunlight
+around her and the fair sky overhead. Idly he watched the slowly
+drifting clouds; they were going away northward&mdash;by and by they would
+sail over London. The rifts of blue widened in the clear silver; surely
+the sunlight would now be shining over Regent's Park. Occasionally a
+pheasant came clattering along; he only regarded the shining colors of
+its head and neck brilliant in the sunlight. A rabbit trotted by him; he
+let it go. But while he was standing thus, and vaguely listening to the
+rattle of guns on the other side, he was suddenly startled by a quick
+cry of pain: and he thought he heard some one call, &quot;Macleod! Macleod!&quot;
+Instantly he <a name="Page_203" id="Page_203" />put his gun against a bush, and ran. He found a hedge at
+the end of the wood; he drove through it, and got into the open field.
+There was the unlucky major, with blood running down his face, a
+handkerchief in his hand, and two men beside him, one of them offering
+him some brandy from a flask. However, after the first flight was over,
+it was seen that Major Stuart was but slightly hurt. The youngest member
+of the party had fired at a bird coming out of the wood; had missed it;
+had tried to wheel round to send the second barrel after it; but his
+feet, having sunk into the wet clay, had caught there, and, in his
+stumbling fall, somehow or other the second barrel went off, one pellet
+just catching the major under the eye. The surface wound caused a good
+shedding of blood, but that was all; and when the major had got his face
+washed he shouldered his gun again, and with indomitable pluck said he
+would see the thing out. It was nothing but a scratch, he declared. It
+might have been dangerous; but what was the good of considering what
+might have been? To the young man who had been the cause of the
+accident, and who was quite unable to express his profound sorrow and
+shame, he was generously considerate, saying that he had fined him in
+the sum of one penny when he took a postage-stamp to cover the wound.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lord Beauregard,&quot; said he, cheerfully, &quot;I want you to show me a
+thorough-going hot corner. You know I am an ignoramus of this kind of
+thing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said his host, &quot;there is a good bit along here, if you would
+rather go on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go on?&quot; said he. &quot;Of course!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And it was a &quot;hot corner.&quot; They came to it at the end of a long double
+hedgerow connected with the wood they had just beaten; and as there was
+no &quot;stop&quot; at the corner of the wood, the pheasants in large numbers had
+run into the channel between the double line of hedge. Here they were
+followed by the keepers and beaters, who kept gently driving them along.
+Occasionally one got up, and was instantly knocked over by one of the
+guns; but it was evident that the &quot;hot corner&quot; would be at the end of
+this hedgerow, where there was stationed a smock-frocked rustic who,
+down on his knees, was gently tapping with a bit of stick. The number of
+birds getting up increased, so that the six guns had pretty sharp work
+to reckon with them; and not a few of the wildly whirring objects got
+clean away into the next wood&mdash;Lord Beauregard all the time calling out
+from the <a name="Page_204" id="Page_204" />other side of the hedge, &quot;Shoot high! shoot high!&quot; But at the
+end of the hedgerow an extraordinary scene occurred. One after the
+other, then in twos and threes, the birds sprang high over the bushes;
+the rattle of musketry&mdash;all the guns being together now&mdash;was deafening:
+the air was filled with gunpowder smoke; and every second or two another
+bird came tumbling down on to the young corn. Macleod, with a sort of
+derisive laugh, put his gun over his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is downright stupidity,&quot; he said to Major Stuart, who was blazing
+away as hard as ever he could cram cartridges into the hot barrels of
+his gun. &quot;You can't tell whether you are hitting the bird or not. There!
+Three men fired at that bird&mdash;the other two were not touched.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The fusillade lasted for about eight or ten minutes; and then it was
+discovered that though certainly two or three hundred pheasants had got
+up at this corner, only twenty-two and a half brace were killed&mdash;to five
+guns.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said the major, taking off his cap and wiping his forehead,
+&quot;that was a bit of a scrimmage!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps,&quot; said Macleod, who had been watching with some amusement his
+friend's fierce zeal; &quot;but it was not shooting. I defy you to say how
+many birds you shot. Or I will do this with you&mdash;I will bet you a
+sovereign that if you ask each man to tell you how many birds he has
+shot during the day, and add them all up, the total will be twice the
+number of birds the keepers will take home. But I am glad you seem to
+enjoy it, Stuart.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To tell you the truth, Macleod,&quot; said the other, &quot;I think I have had
+enough of it. I don't want to make a fuss; but I fancy I don't quite see
+clearly with this eye. It may be some slight inflammation; but I think I
+will go back to the house, and see if there's any surgeon in the
+neighborhood.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There you are right; and I will go back with you,&quot; Macleod said,
+promptly.</p>
+
+<p>When their host heard of this, he was for breaking up the party; but
+Major Stuart warmly remonstrated; and so one of the men was sent with
+the two friends to show them the way back to the house. When the surgeon
+came he examined the wound, and pronounced it to be slight enough in
+itself, but possibly dangerous when so near so sensitive an organ as the
+eye. He advised the major, if any symptoms of inflammation declared
+themselves, to go at once to a skillful oculist in London, and not to
+leave for the North until he was quite assured.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_205" id="Page_205" />That sounds rather well, Macleod,&quot; said he, ruefully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, if you must remain in London&mdash;though I hope not&mdash;I will stay with
+you,&quot; Macleod said. It was a great sacrifice, his remaining in London,
+instead of going at once back to Castle Dare; but what will not one do
+for one's friend?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI" />CHAPTER XXVI.</h2>
+
+<h3>AN INTERVIEW.</h3>
+
+
+<p>On the eventful morning on which Major Stuart was to be presented to the
+chosen bride of Macleod of Dare, the simple-hearted
+soldier&mdash;notwithstanding that he had a shade over one eye, made himself
+exceedingly smart. He would show the young lady that Macleod's friends
+in the North were not barbarians. The major sent back his boots to be
+brushed a second time. A more smoothly fitting pair of gloves Bond
+Street never saw.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you have not the air,&quot; said he to Macleod, &quot;of a young fellow going
+to see his sweetheart. What is the matter, man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod hesitated for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I am anxious she should impress you favorably,&quot; said he, frankly;
+&quot;and it is an awkward position for her&mdash;and she will be embarrassed, no
+doubt&mdash;and I have some pity for her, and almost wish some other way had
+been taken&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, nonsense?&quot; the major said, cheerfully. &quot;You need not be nervous on
+her account. Why, man, the silliest girl in the world could impose on an
+old fool like me. Once upon a time, perhaps, I may have considered
+myself a connoisseur&mdash;well, you know, Macleod, I once had a waist like
+the rest of you; but now, bless you, if a tolerably pretty girl only
+says a civil word or two to me, I begin to regard her as if I were her
+guardian angel&mdash;<i>in loco parentis</i>, and that kind of thing&mdash;and I would
+sooner hang myself than scan her dress or say a word about her figure.
+Do you think she will be afraid of a critic with one eye? Have courage,
+man. I dare bet a sovereign she is quite capable of taking care of
+herself. It's her business.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206" />Macleod flushed quickly, and the one eye of the major caught that
+sudden confession of shame or resentment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What I meant was,&quot; he said, instantly, &quot;that nature had taught the
+simplest of virgins a certain trick of fence&mdash;oh yes, don't you be
+afraid. Embarrassment! If there is any one embarrassed, it will not be
+me, and it will not be she. Why, she'll begin to wonder whether you are
+really one of the Macleods, if you show yourself nervous, apprehensive,
+frightened like this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And indeed, Stuart,&quot; said he, rising as if to shake off some weight of
+gloomy feeling, &quot;I scarcely know what is the matter with me. I ought to
+be the happiest man in the world; and sometimes this very happiness
+seems so great that it is like to suffocate me&mdash;I cannot breathe fast
+enough; and then, again, I get into such unreasoning fears and
+troubles&mdash;Well, let us get out into the fresh air.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The major carefully smoothed his hat once more, and took up his cane. He
+followed Macleod down stairs&mdash;like Sancho Panza waiting on Don Quixote,
+as he himself expressed it; and then the two friends slowly sauntered
+away northward on this fairly clear and pleasant December morning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your nerves are not in a healthy state, that's the fact, Macleod,&quot; said
+the major, as they walked along. &quot;The climate of London is too exciting
+for you; a good, long, dull winter in Mull will restore your tone. But
+in the meantime don't cut my throat, or your own, or anybody else's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Am I likely to do that?&quot; Macleod said, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There was young Bouverie,&quot; the major continued, not heeding the
+question&mdash;&quot;what a handsome young fellow he was when he joined us at
+Gawulpoor!&mdash;and he hadn't been in the place a week but he must needs go
+regular head over heels about our colonel's sister-in-law. An uncommon
+pretty woman she was, too&mdash;an Irish girl, and fond of riding; and dash
+me if that fellow didn't fairly try to break his neck again and again
+just that she should admire his pluck! He was as mad as a hatter about
+her. Well, one day two or three of us had been riding for two or three
+hours on a blazing hot morning, and we came to one of the irrigation
+reservoirs&mdash;big wells, you know&mdash;and what does he do but offer to bet
+twenty pounds he would dive into the well and swim about for ten
+minutes, till we hoisted him out at the end of the rope. I forget who
+took the bet, for none of us thought he would do it: but I believe he
+would have done <a name="Page_207" id="Page_207" />anything so that the story of his pluck would be
+carried to the girl, don't you know. Well, off went his clothes, and in
+he jumped into the ice-cold water. Nothing would stop him. But at the
+end of the ten minutes, when we hoisted up the rope, there was no
+Bouverie there. It appeared that on clinging on to the rope he had
+twisted it somehow, and suddenly found himself about to have his neck
+broken, so he had to shake himself free and plunge into the water again.
+When at last we got him out, he had had a longer bath than he had
+bargained for; but there was apparently nothing the matter with him&mdash;and
+he had won the money, and there would be a talk about him. However, two
+days afterward, when he was at dinner, he suddenly felt as though he had
+got a blow on the back of his head&mdash;so he told us afterward&mdash;and fell
+back insensible. That was the beginning of it. It took him five or six
+years to shake off the effects of that dip&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And did she marry him, after all?&quot; Macleod said, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh dear, no! I think he had been invalided home not more than two or
+three months when she married Connolly, of the Seventy-first Madras
+Infantry. Then she ran away from him with some civilian fellow, and
+Connolly blew his brains out. That,&quot; said the major, honestly, &quot;is
+always a puzzle to me. How a fellow can be such an ass as to blow his
+brains out when his wife runs away from him beats my comprehension
+altogether. Now what I would do would be this: I would thank goodness I
+was rid of such a piece of baggage; I would get all the good-fellows I
+know, and give them a rattling fine dinner; and I would drink a bumper
+to her health and another bumper to her never coming back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I would send you our Donald, and he would play, 'Cha till mi
+tuilich' for you,&quot; Macleod said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But as for blowing my brains out! Well,&quot; the major added, with a
+philosophic air, &quot;when a man is mad he cares neither for his own life
+nor for anybody else's. Look at those cases you continually see in the
+papers: a young man is in love with a young woman; they quarrel, or she
+prefers some one else; what does he do but lay hold of her some evening
+and cut her throat&mdash;to show his great love for her&mdash;and then he coolly
+gives himself up to the police, and says he is quite content to be
+hanged.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stuart,&quot; said Macleod, laughing, &quot;I don't like this talk about hanging.
+You said a minute or two ago that I was mad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_208" id="Page_208" />More or less,&quot; observed the major, with absolute gravity; &quot;as the
+lawyer said when he mentioned the Fifteen-acres park at Dublin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, let us get into a hansom,&quot; Macleod said. &quot;When I am hanged you
+will ask them to write over my tombstone that I never kept anybody
+waiting for either luncheon or dinner.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The trim maid-servant who opened the door greeted Macleod with a
+pleasant smile; she was a sharp wench, and had discovered that lovers
+have lavish hands. She showed the two visitors into the drawing-room;
+Macleod silent, and listening intently; the one-eyed major observing
+everything, and perhaps curious to know whether the house of an actress
+differed from that of anybody else. He very speedily came to the
+conclusion that, in his small experience, he had never seen any house of
+its size so tastefully decorated and accurately managed as this simple
+home.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what's this!&quot; he cried, going to the mantelpiece and taking down a
+drawing that was somewhat ostentatiously placed there. &quot;Well! If this is
+English hospitality! By Jove! an insult to me, and my father, and my
+father's clan, that blood alone will wipe out. 'The Astonishment of
+Sandy MacAlister Mhor on beholding a Glimpse of Sunlight,' Look!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He showed the rude drawing to Macleod&mdash;a sketch of a wild Highlander,
+with his hair on end, his eyes starting out of his head, and his hands
+uplifted in bewilderment. This work of art was the production of Miss
+Carry, who, on hearing the knock at the door, had whipped into the room,
+placed her bit of savage satire over the mantelpiece, and whipped out
+again. But her deadly malice so far failed of its purpose that, instead
+of inflicting any annoyance, it most effectually broke the embarrassment
+of Miss Gertrude's entrance and introduction to the major.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Carry has no great love for the Highlands,&quot; she said, laughing and
+slightly blushing at the same time; &quot;but she need not have prepared so
+cruel a welcome for you. Won't you sit down, Major Stuart? Papa will be
+here directly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think it is uncommonly clever,&quot; the major said, fixing his one eye on
+the paper as if he would give Miss White distinctly to understand that
+he had not come to stare at her&mdash;&quot;Perhaps she will like us better when
+she knows more about us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think,&quot; said Miss White, demurely, &quot;that it is <a name="Page_209" id="Page_209" />possible for any
+one born in the South to learn to like the bagpipes?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said Macleod, quickly&mdash;and it was not usual for him to break in in
+this eager way about a usual matter of talk&mdash;&quot;that is all a question of
+association. If you had been brought up to associate the sound of the
+pipes with every memorable thing&mdash;with the sadness of a funeral, and the
+welcome of friends come to see you, and the pride of going away to
+war&mdash;then you would understand why 'Lord Lovat's Lament,' or the
+'Farewell to Gibraltar,' or the 'Heights of Alma'&mdash;why these bring the
+tears to a Highlander's eyes. The pibrochs preserve our legends for us,&quot;
+he went on to say, in rather an excited fashion, for he was obviously
+nervous, and perhaps a trifle paler than usual. &quot;They remind us of what
+our families have done in all parts of the world, and there is not one
+you do not associate with some friend or relative who is gone away, or
+with some great merrymaking, or with the death of one who was dear to
+you. You never saw that&mdash;the boat taking the coffin across the loch, and
+the friends of the dead sitting with bowed heads, and the piper at the
+bow playing the slow Lament to the time of the oars. If you had seen
+that, you would know what the 'Cumhadh na Cloinne' is to a Highlander.
+And if you have a friend come to see you, what is it first tells you of
+his coming? When you can hear nothing for the waves, you can hear the
+pipes! And if you were going into a battle, what would put madness into
+your head but to hear the march that you know your brothers and uncles
+and cousins last heard when they marched on with a cheer to take death
+as it happened to come to them? You might as well wonder at the
+Highlanders loving the heather. That is not a very handsome flower.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss White was sitting quite calm and collected. A covert glance or two
+had convinced the major that she was entirely mistress of the situation.
+If there was any one nervous, embarrassed, excited, through this
+interview, it was not Miss Gertrude White.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The other morning,&quot; she said, complacently, and she pulled down her
+dainty white cuffs another sixteenth of an inch, &quot;I was going along
+Buckingham Palace Road, and I met a detachment&mdash;is a detachment right,
+Major Stuart?&mdash;of a Highland regiment. At least I supposed it was part
+of a Highland regiment, because they had eight pipers playing at their
+head; and I noticed that the cab horses were far <a name="Page_210" id="Page_210" />more frightened than
+they would have been at twice the noise coming from an ordinary band. I
+was wondering whether they might think it the roar of some strange
+animal&mdash;you know how a camel frightens a horse. But I envied the officer
+who was riding in front of the soldiers. He was a very handsome man; and
+I thought how proud he must feel to be at the head of those fine,
+stalwart fellows. In fact, I felt for a moment that I should like to
+have command of a regiment myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Faith,&quot; said the major, gallantly, &quot;I would exchange into that
+regiment, if I had to serve as a drummer-boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Embarrassed by this broad compliment? Not a bit of it. She laughed
+lightly, and then rose to introduce the two visitors to her father, who
+had just entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>It was not to be expected that Mr. White, knowing the errand of his
+guests, should give them an inordinately effusive welcome; but he was
+gravely polite. He prided himself on being a man of common-sense, and he
+knew it was no use fighting against the inevitable. If his daughter
+would leave the stage, she would; and there was some small compensation
+in the fact that by her doing so she would become Lady Macleod. He would
+have less money to spend on trinkets two hundred years old; but he would
+gain something&mdash;a very little no doubt&mdash;from the reflected lustre of her
+social position.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We were talking about officers, papa,&quot; she said, brightly, &quot;and I was
+about to confess that I have always had a great liking for soldiers. I
+know if I had been a man I should have been a soldier. But do you know,
+Sir Keith, you were once very rude to me about your friend Lieutenant
+Ogilvie?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod started.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope not,&quot; said he gravely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, you were. Don't you remember the Caledonian Ball? I only
+remarked that Lieutenant Ogilvie, who seemed to me a bonnie boy, did not
+look as if he were a very formidable warrior; and you answered with some
+dark saying&mdash;what was it?&mdash;that nobody could tell what sword was in a
+scabbard until it was drawn?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said he, laughing somewhat nervously, &quot;you forget: I was talking
+to the Duchess of Devonshire.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I am sure her Grace was much obliged to you for frightening her
+so,&quot; Miss White said, with a dainty smile.</p>
+
+<p>Major Stuart was greatly pleased by the appearance and charming manner
+of this young lady. If Macleod, who was <a name="Page_211" id="Page_211" />confessedly a handsome young
+fellow, had searched all over England, he could not have chosen a fitter
+mate. But he was also distinctly of opinion&mdash;judging by his one eye
+only&mdash;that nobody needed to be alarmed about this young lady's exceeding
+sensitiveness and embarrassment before strangers. He thought she would
+on all occasions be fairly capable of holding her own. And he was quite
+convinced, too, that the beautiful clear eyes, under the long lashes,
+pretty accurately divined what was going forward. But what did this
+impression of the honest soldier's amount to? Only, in other words, that
+Miss Gertrude White, although a pretty woman, was not a fool.</p>
+
+<p>Luncheon was announced, and they went into the other room, accompanied
+by Miss Carry, who had suffered herself, to be introduced to Major
+Stuart with a certain proud sedateness. And now the major played the
+part of the accepted lover's friend to perfection. He sat next Miss
+White herself; and no matter what the talk was about, he managed to
+bring it round to something that redounded to Macleod's advantage.
+Macleod could do this, and Macleod could do that; it was all Macleod,
+and Macleod, and Macleod.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if you should ever come to our part of the world, Miss White,&quot; said
+the major&mdash;not letting his glance meet hers&mdash;&quot;you will be able to
+understand something of the old loyalty and affection and devotion the
+people in the Highlands showed to their chiefs; for I don't believe
+there is a man, woman, or child about the place who would not rather
+have a hand cut off than that Macleod should have a thorn scratch him.
+And it is all the more singular, you know, that they are not Macleods.
+Mull is the country of the Macleans; and the Macleans and the Macleods
+had their fights in former times. There is a cave they will show you
+round the point from <i>Ru na Gaul</i> lighthouse that is called
+<i>Uamh-na-Ceann</i>&mdash;that is, the Cavern of the Skulls&mdash;where the Macleods
+murdered fifty of the Macleans, though Alastair Crotach, the humpbacked
+son of Macleod, was himself killed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon, Major Stuart,&quot; said Miss Carry, with a grand
+stateliness in her tone, &quot;but will you allow me to ask if this is true?
+It is a passage I saw quoted in a book the other day, and I copied it
+out. It says something about the character of the people you are talking
+about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She handed him the bit of paper; and he read these words: <i>&quot;Trew it is,
+that thir Ilandish men ar of nature verie prowd, suspicious, avaricious,
+full of decept and evill inventioun <a name="Page_212" id="Page_212" />each aganis his nychtbour, be what
+way soever he may circumvin him. Besydis all this, they ar sa crewall in
+taking of revenge that nather have they regard to person, eage, tyme, or
+caus; sa ar they generallie all sa far addictit to thair awin ty
+rannicall opinions that, in all respects, they exceed in creweltie the
+maist barbarous people that ever hes bene sen the begynning of the
+warld.&quot;</i></p>
+
+<p>&quot;Upon my word,&quot; said the honest major, &quot;it is a most formidable
+indictment. You had better ask Sir Keith about it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He handed the paper across the table; Macleod read it, and burst out
+laughing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is too true, Carry,&quot; said he. &quot;We are a dreadful lot of people up
+there among the hills. Nothing but murder and rapine from morning till
+night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was telling him this morning he would probably be hanged,&quot; observed
+the major, gravely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For what?&quot; Miss White asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said the major, carelessly, &quot;I did not specify the offence.
+Cattle-lifting, probably.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Carry's fierce onslaught was thus laughed away, and they proceeded
+to other matters; the major meanwhile not failing to remark that this
+luncheon differed considerably from the bread and cheese and glass of
+whiskey of a shooting-day in Mull. Then they returned to the
+drawing-room, and had tea there, and some further talk. The major had by
+this time quite abandoned his critical and observant attitude. He had
+succumbed to the enchantress. He was ready to declare that Gertrude
+White was the most fascinating woman he had ever met, while, as a matter
+of fact, she had been rather timidly making suggestions and asking his
+opinion all the time. And when they rose to leave, she said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am very sorry, Major Stuart, that this unfortunate accident should
+have altered your plans; but since you must remain in London, I hope we
+shall see you often before you go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are very kind,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We cannot ask you to dine with us,&quot; she said, quite simply and frankly,
+&quot;because of my engagements in the evening; but we are always at home at
+lunch-time, and Sir Keith knows the way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you very much,&quot; said the major, as he warmly pressed her hand.</p>
+
+<p>The two friends passed out into the street.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_213" id="Page_213" />My dear fellow,&quot; said the major, &quot;you have been lucky&mdash;don't imagine I
+am humbugging you. A really handsome lass, and a thorough woman of the
+world, too&mdash;trained and fitted at every point; none of your farmyard
+beauties. But I say, Macleod&mdash;I say,&quot; he continued, solemnly, &quot;won't she
+find it a trifle dull at Castle Dare?&mdash;the change, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is not necessary that she should live at Dare,&quot; Macleod said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, of course, you know your own plans best.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have none. All that is in the air as yet. And so you do not think I
+have make a mistake.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish I was five-and-twenty, and could make a mistake like that,&quot; said
+the major, with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Miss Carry had confronted her sister.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So you have been inspected, Gerty. Do you think you passed muster?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go away, and don't be impertinent, you silly girl!&quot; said the other,
+good-naturedly.</p>
+
+<p>Carry pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket, and, advancing,
+placed it on the table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There,&quot; said she, &quot;put that in your purse, and don't tell me you have
+not been warned, Gertrude White.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The elder sister did as she was bid; but indeed she was not thinking at
+that moment of the cruel and revengeful character of the Western
+Highlanders, which Miss Carry's quotation set forth in such plain terms.
+She was thinking that she had never before seen Glenogie look so
+soldier-like and handsome.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII" />CHAPTER XXVII.</h2>
+
+<h3>AT A RAILWAY STATION.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The few days of grace obtained by the accident that happened to Major
+Stuart fled too quickly away, and the time came for saying farewell.
+With a dismal apprehension Macleod looked forward to this moment. He had
+seen her on the stage bid a pathetic good-by to her lover, and there it
+was beautiful enough&mdash;with her shy coquetries, and her winning ways, and
+the timid, reluctant confession of her love. <a name="Page_214" id="Page_214" />But there was nothing at
+all beautiful about this ordeal through which he must pass. It was harsh
+and horrible. He trembled even as he thought of it.</p>
+
+<p>The last day of his stay in London arrived; he rose with a sense of some
+awful doom hanging over him that he could in nowise shake off. It was a
+strange day, too&mdash;the world of London vaguely shining through a pale
+fog, the sun a globe of red fire. There was hoar-frost on the
+window-ledges; at last the winter seemed about to begin.</p>
+
+<p>And then, as ill luck would have it, Miss White had some important
+business at the theatre to attend to, so that she could not see him till
+the afternoon; and he had to pass the empty morning somehow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You look like a man going to be hanged,&quot; said the major, about noon.
+&quot;Come, shall we stroll down to the river now? We can have a chat with
+your friend before lunch, and a look over his boat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Ross, being by chance at Erith, had heard of Macleod's being in
+town, and had immediately come up in his little steam-yacht, the <i>Iris</i>,
+which now lay at anchor close to Westminster Bridge, on the Lambeth
+side. He had proposed, merely for the oddity of the thing, that Macleod
+and his friend the major should lunch on board, and young Ogilvie had
+promised to run up from Aldershot.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Macleod,&quot; said the gallant soldier, as the two friends walked leisurely
+down towards the Thames, &quot;if you let this monomania get such a hold of
+you, do you know how it will end? You will begin to show signs of having
+a conscience.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you mean?&quot; said he, absently.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your nervous system will break down, and you will begin to have a
+conscience. That is a sure sign, in either a man or a nation. Man, don't
+I see it all around us now in this way of looking at India and the
+colonies! We had no conscience&mdash;we were in robust health as a
+nation&mdash;when we thrashed the French out of Canada, and seized India, and
+stole land just wherever we could put our fingers on it all over the
+globe; but now it is quite different; we are only educating these
+countries up to self-government; it is all in the interest of morality
+that we protect them; as soon as they wish to go we will give them our
+blessing&mdash;in short, we have got a conscience, because the national
+health is feeble and nervous. You look out, or you will get into the
+same condition. You will begin to ask whether it is right to shoot
+pretty little <a name="Page_215" id="Page_215" />birds in order to eat them; you will become a vegetarian;
+and you will take to goloshes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good gracious!&quot; said Macleod, waking up, &quot;what is all this about?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Rob Roy,&quot; observed the major, oracularly, &quot;was a healthy man. I will
+make you a bet he was not much troubled by chilblains.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stuart,&quot; Macleod cried, &quot;do you want to drive me mad? What on earth are
+you talking about?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Anything,&quot; the major confessed, frankly, &quot;to rouse you out of your
+monomania, because I don't want to have my throat cut by a lunatic some
+night up at Castle Dare.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Castle Dare,&quot; repeated Macleod, gloomily. &quot;I think I shall scarcely
+know the place again; and we have been away about a fortnight!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>No sooner had they got down to the landing-step on the Lambeth side of
+the river than they were descried from the deck of the beautiful little
+steamer, and a boat was sent ashore for them. Colonel Ross was standing
+by the tiny gangway to receive them. They got on board, and passed into
+the glass-surrounded saloon. There certainly was something odd in the
+notion of being anchored in the middle of the great city&mdash;absolutely cut
+off from it, and enclosed in a miniature floating world, the very sound
+of it hushed and remote. And, indeed, on this strange morning the big
+town looked more dream-like than usual as they regarded it from the
+windows of this saloon&mdash;the buildings opal-like in the pale fog, a dusky
+glitter on the high towers of the Houses of Parliament, and some touches
+of rose red on the ripples of the yellow water around them.</p>
+
+<p>Right over there was the very spot to which he had idly wandered in the
+clear dawn to have a look at the peacefully flowing stream. How long
+ago? It seemed to him, looking back, somehow the morning of
+life&mdash;shining clear and beautiful, before any sombre anxieties and joys
+scarcely less painful had come to cloud the fair sky. He thought of
+himself at that time with a sort of wonder. He saw himself standing
+there, glad to watch the pale and glowing glory of the dawn, careless as
+to what the day might bring forth; and he knew that it was another and
+an irrecoverable Macleod he was mentally regarding.</p>
+
+<p>Well, when his friend Ogilvie arrived, he endeavored to assume some
+greater spirit and cheerfulness, and they had a pleasant enough luncheon
+party in the gently moving saloon. <a name="Page_216" id="Page_216" />Thereafter Colonel Ross was for
+getting up steam and taking them for a run somewhere; but at this point
+Macleod begged to be excused for running away; and so, having consigned
+Major Stuart to the care of his host for the moment, and having bade
+good-by to Ogilvie, he went ashore. He made his way up to the cottage in
+South Bank. He entered the drawing-room and sat down, alone.</p>
+
+<p>When she came in, she said, with a quick anxiety, &quot;You are not ill?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, no,&quot; he said rising, and his face was haggard somewhat; &quot;but&mdash;but
+it is not pleasant to come to say good-by&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must not take it so seriously as that,&quot; she said, with a friendly
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My going away is like going into a grave,&quot; he said, slowly. &quot;It is
+dark.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then he took her two hands in his, and regarded her with such an
+intensity of look that she almost drew back, afraid.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sometimes,&quot; he said, watching her eyes, &quot;I think I shall never see you
+again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Keith,&quot; said she, drawing her hands away, and speaking half
+playfully, &quot;you really frighten me! And even if you were never to see me
+again, wouldn't it be a very good thing for you? You would have got rid
+of a bad bargain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It would not be a very good thing for me,&quot; he said, still regarding
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, well, don't speak of it,&quot; said she, lightly; &quot;let us speak of all
+that is to be done in the long time that must pass before we meet&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But why '<i>must?</i>'&quot; said he, eagerly&mdash;&quot;why '<i>must?</i>' If you knew how I
+looked forward to the blackness of this winter away up there&mdash;so far
+away from you that I shall forget the sound of your voice&mdash;oh! you
+cannot know what it is to me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had sat down again, his eyes, with a sort of pained and hunted look
+in them, bent on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But there is a '<i>must</i>,' you know,&quot; she said, cheerfully, &quot;and we ought
+to be sensible folk and recognize it. You know I ought to have a
+probationary period, as it were&mdash;like a nun, you know, just to see if
+she is fit to&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here Miss White paused, with a little embarrassment; but presently she
+charged the difficulty, and said, with a slight laugh,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_217" id="Page_217" />To take the veil, in fact. You must give me time to become accustomed
+to a whole heap of things: if we were to do anything suddenly now, we
+might blunder into some great mistake, perhaps irretrievable. I must
+train myself by degrees for another kind of life altogether; and I am
+going to surprise you, Keith&mdash;I am indeed. If papa takes me to the
+Highlands next year, you won't recognize me at all. I am going to read
+up all about the Highlands, and learn the tartans, and the names of
+fishes and birds; and I will walk in the rain and try to think nothing
+about it; and perhaps I may learn a little Gaelic: indeed, Keith, when
+you see me in the Highlands, you will find me a thorough
+Highland-woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will never become a Highland-woman,&quot; he said, with a grave
+kindness. &quot;Is it needful? I would rather see you as you are than playing
+a part.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes expressed some quick wonder, for he had almost quoted her
+father's words to her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You would rather see me as I am?&quot; she said, demurely. &quot;But what am I? I
+don't know myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are a beautiful and gentle-hearted Englishwoman,&quot; he said, with
+honest admiration&mdash;&quot;a daughter of the South. Why should you wish to be
+anything else? When you come to us, I will show you a true
+Highland-woman&mdash;that is, my cousin Janet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now you have spoiled all my ambition,&quot; she said, somewhat petulantly.
+&quot;I had intended spending all the winter in training myself to forget the
+habits and feelings of an actress, and I was going to educate myself for
+another kind of life; and now I find that when I go to the Highlands you
+will compare me with your cousin Janet!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is impossible,&quot; said he, absently, for he was thinking of the time
+when the summer seas would be blue again, and the winds soft, and the
+sky clear; and then he saw the white boat of the <i>Umpire</i> going merrily
+out to the great steamer to bring the beautiful stranger from the South
+to Castle Dare!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, well, I am not going to quarrel with you on this our last day
+together,&quot; she said, and she gently placed her soft white hand on the
+clinched fist that rested on the table. &quot;I see you are in great
+trouble&mdash;I wish I could lessen it. And yet how could I wish that you
+could think of me less, even during the long winter evenings, when it
+will be so much more lonely for you than for me? But you must leave <a name="Page_218" id="Page_218" />me
+my hobby all the same; and you must think of me always as preparing
+myself and looking forward; for at least you know you will expect me to
+be able to sing a Highland ballad to your friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes,&quot; he said, hastily, &quot;if it is all true&mdash;if it is all
+possible&mdash;what you speak of. Sometimes I think it is madness of me to
+fling away my only chance; to have everything I care for in the world
+near me, and to go away and perhaps never return. Sometimes I know in my
+heart that I shall never see you again&mdash;never after this day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, now,&quot; said she, brightly&mdash;for she feared this black demon getting
+possession of him again&mdash;&quot;I will kill that superstition right off. You
+<i>shall</i> see me after to-day; for as sure as my name is Gertrude White, I
+will go up to the railway station to-morrow morning and see you off.
+There!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will?&quot; he said, with a flush of joy on his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I don't want any one else to see me,&quot; she said, looking down.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I will manage that,&quot; he said, eagerly. &quot;I will get Major Stuart
+into the carriage ten minutes before the train starts.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Colonel Ross?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He goes back to Erith to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I will bring to the station,&quot; said she, with some shy color in her
+face, &quot;a little present&mdash;if you should speak of me to your mother, you
+might give her this from me; it belonged to my mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Could anything have been more delicately devised than this tender and
+timid message?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have a woman's heart,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>And then in the same low voice she began to explain that she would like
+him to go to the theatre that evening, and that perhaps he would go
+alone; and would he do her the favor to be in a particular box? She took
+a piece of paper from her purse, and shyly handed it to him. How could
+he refuse?&mdash;though he flushed slightly. It was a favor she asked. &quot;I
+will know where you are,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>And so he was not to bid good-by to her on this occasion, after all. But
+he bade good-by to Mr. White, and to Miss Carry, who was quite civil to
+him now that he was going away; and then he went out into the cold and
+gray December afternoon. They were lighting the lamps. But gaslight
+throws no cheerfulness on a grave.</p>
+
+<p>He went to the theatre later on; and the talisman she <a name="Page_219" id="Page_219" />had given him
+took him into a box almost level with the stage, and so near to it that
+the glare of the foot-lights bewildered his eyes, until he retired into
+the corner. And once more he saw the puppets come and go, with the one
+live woman among them whose every tone of voice made his heart leap. And
+then this drawing-room scene, in which she comes in alone, and talking
+to herself? She sits down to the piano carelessly. Some one enters
+unperceived, and stands silent there, to listen to the singing. And this
+air that she sings, waywardly, like a light-hearted schoolgirl:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&quot;Hi-ri-libhin o, Brae MacIntyre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hi-ri-libhin o, Costly thy wooing!<br /></span>
+<span class="i65">&nbsp;Thou'st slain the maid.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hug-o-rin-o, &nbsp; 'Tis thy undoing!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hi-ri-libhin o, Friends of my love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hi-ri-libhin o, Do not upbraid him;<br /></span>
+<span class="i65">&nbsp;He was leal<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hug-o-rin-o,&nbsp;&nbsp; Chance betrayed him.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Macleod's breathing came quick and hard. She had not sung the ballad of
+the brave MacIntyre when formerly he had seen the piece. Did she merely
+wish him to know, by this arch rendering of the gloomy song, that she
+was pursuing her Highland studies? And then the last verse she sang in
+the Gaelic! He was so near that he could hear this adjuration to the
+unhappy lover to seek his boat and fly, steering wide of Jura and
+avoiding Mull:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;Hi-ri-libhin o, Buin B&agrave;ta,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hi-ri-libhin o, Fag an d&agrave;thaich,<br /></span>
+<span class="i65">&nbsp;Seachain Mule,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hug-o-ri-no;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Sna taodh Jura!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Was she laughing, then, at her pronunciation of the Gaelic when she
+carelessly rose from the piano, and, in doing so, directed one glance to
+him that made him quail? The foolish piece went on. She was more bright,
+vivacious, coquettish than ever: how could she have such spirits in view
+of the long separation that lay on his heart like lead? Then, at the end
+of the piece, there was a tapping at the door, and an envelope was
+handed in to him. It only contained a card, with the message
+&quot;Good-night?&quot; scrawled in pencil. It was the last time he ever was in
+any theatre.</p>
+
+<p>Then that next morning&mdash;cold and raw and damp, with a blustering
+northwest wind that seemed to bring an angry <a name="Page_220" id="Page_220" />summons from the far seas.
+At the station his hand was trembling like the hand of a drunken man;
+his eyes wild and troubled: his face haggard. And as the moment arrived
+for the train to start, he became more and more excited.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come and take your place, Macleod,&quot; the major said. &quot;There is no use
+worrying about leaving. We have eaten our cake. The frolic is at an end.
+All we can do is to sing, 'Then fare you well, my Mary Blane,' and put
+up with whatever is ahead. If I could only have a drop of real, genuine
+Talisker to steady my nerves&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But here the major, who had been incidentally leaning out of the window,
+caught sight of a figure, and instantly he withdrew his head. Macleod
+disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>That great, gaunt room&mdash;with the hollow footfalls of strangers, and the
+cries outside. His face was quite white when he took her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am very late,&quot; she said, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>He could not speak at all. He fixed his eyes on hers with a strange
+intensity, as if he would read her very soul; and what could any one
+find there but a great gentleness and sincerity, and the frank
+confidence of one who had nothing to conceal?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gertrude,&quot; said he at last, &quot;whatever happens to us two, you will never
+forget that I loved you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I may be sure of that,&quot; she said, looking down.</p>
+
+<p>They rang a bell outside.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-by, then.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He tightly grasped the hand he held; once more he gazed into those clear
+and confiding eyes&mdash;with an almost piteously anxious look: then he
+kissed her and hurried away. But she was bold enough to follow. Her eyes
+were very moist. Her heart was beating fast. If Glenogie had there and
+then challenged her, and said, &quot;<i>Come, then, sweetheart; will you fly
+with me? And the proud mother will meet you. And the gentle cousin will
+attend on you. And Castle Dare will welcome the young bride!</i>&quot;&mdash;what
+would she have said? The moment was over. She only saw the train go
+gently away from the station; and she saw the piteous eyes fixed on
+hers; and while he was in sight she waved her handkerchief. When the
+train had disappeared she turned away with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor fellow,&quot; she was thinking to herself, &quot;he is very much in
+earnest&mdash;far more in earnest than even poor Howson. It would break my
+heart if I were to bring him any trouble.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221" />By the time she had got to the end of the platform, her thoughts had
+taken a more cheerful turn.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear me,&quot; she was saying to herself, &quot;I quite forgot to ask him whether
+my Gaelic was good!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When she had got into the street outside, the day was brightening.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder,&quot; she was asking herself, &quot;whether Carry would come and look
+at that exhibition of water-colors; and what would the cab fare be?&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII" />CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>A DISCLOSURE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>And now he was all eagerness to brave the first dragon in his way&mdash;the
+certain opposition of this proud old lady at Castle Dare. No doubt she
+would stand aghast at the mere mention of such a thing; perhaps in her
+sudden indignation she might utter sharp words that would rankle
+afterwards in the memory. In any case he knew the struggle would be
+long, and bitter, and harassing; and he had not the skill of speech to
+persuasively bend a woman's will. There was another way&mdash;impossible,
+alas!&mdash;he had thought of. If only he could have taken Gertrude White by
+the hand&mdash;if only he could have led her up the hall, and presented her
+to his mother, and said, &quot;Mother, this is your daughter; is she not fit
+to be the daughter of so proud a mother?&quot;&mdash;the fight would have been
+over. How could any one withstand the appeal of those fearless and
+tender clear eyes?</p>
+
+<p>Impatiently he waited for the end of dinner on the evening of his
+arrival; impatiently he heard Donald the piper lad, play the brave
+Salute&mdash;the wild, shrill yell overcoming the low thunder of the Atlantic
+outside, and he paid but little attention to the old and familiar
+<i>Cumhadh na Cloinne</i>. Then Hamish put the whiskey and the claret on the
+table, and withdrew. They were left alone.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now, Keith,&quot; said his cousin Janet, with the wise gray eyes grown
+cheerful and kind, &quot;you will tell us about <a name="Page_222" id="Page_222" />all the people you saw in
+London; and was there much gayety going on? And did you see the Queen at
+all? and did you give any fine dinners?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How can I answer you all at once, Janet?&quot; said he, laughing in a
+somewhat nervous way. &quot;I did not see the Queen, for she was at Windsor;
+and I did not give any fine dinners, for it is not the time of year in
+London to give fine dinners; and indeed I spent enough money in that way
+when I was in London before. But I saw several of the friends who were
+very kind to me when I was in London in the summer. And do you remember,
+Janet, my speaking to you about the beautiful young lady&mdash;the actress I
+met at the house of Colonel Ross of Duntorme?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, I remember very well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because,&quot; said he&mdash;and his fingers were rather nervous as he took out a
+package from his breast-pocket&mdash;&quot;I have got some photographs of her for
+the mother and you to see. But it is little of any one that you can
+understand from photographs. You would have to hear her talk, and see
+her manner, before you could understand why every one speaks so well of
+her, and why she is a friend with every one&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had handed the packet to his mother, and the old lady had adjusted
+her eye-glasses, and was turning over the various photographs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is very good-looking,&quot; said Lady Macleod. &quot;Oh yes, she is very
+good-looking. And that is her sister?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Janet was looking over them too.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But where did you get all the photographs of her Keith?&quot; she said.
+&quot;They are from all sorts of places&mdash;Scarborough, Newcastle, Brighton&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I got them from herself,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh do you know her so well?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know her very well. She was the most intimate friend of the people
+whose acquaintance I first made in London,&quot; he said, simply, and then he
+turned to his mother; &quot;I wish photographs could speak, mother, for then
+you might make her acquaintance; and as she is coming to the Highlands
+next year&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We have no theatre in Mull, Keith,&quot; Lady Macleod said, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But by that time she will not be an actress at all: did I not tell you
+that before?&quot; he said, eagerly. &quot;Did I not tell you that? She is going
+to leave the stage&mdash;perhaps sooner <a name="Page_223" id="Page_223" />or later, but certainly by that
+time; and when she comes to the Highlands next year with her father, she
+will be travelling just like any one else. And I hope, mother, you won't
+let them think that we Highlanders are less hospitable than the people
+of London.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He made the suggestion in an apparently careless fashion, but there was
+a painfully anxious look in his eyes. Janet noticed that.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It would be strange if they were to come to so unfrequented a place as
+the west of Mull,&quot; said Lady Macleod, somewhat coldly, as she put the
+photographs aside.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I have told them all about the place, and what they will see, and
+they are eagerly looking forward to it; and you surely would not have
+them put up at the inn at Bunessan, mother?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Really, Keith, I think you have been imprudent. It was little matter
+our receiving a bachelor friend like Norman Ogilvie, but I don't think
+we are quite in a condition to entertain strangers at Dare.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No one objected to me as a stranger when I went to London,&quot; said he,
+proudly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If they are anywhere in the neighborhood,&quot; said Lady Macleod, &quot;I should
+be pleased to show them all the attention in my power, as you say they
+were friendly with you in London; but really, Keith, I don't think you
+can ask me to invite two strangers to Dare&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then it is to the inn at Bunessan they must go?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, auntie,&quot; said Janet Macleod, with a gentle voice, &quot;you are not
+going to put poor Keith into a fix; I know you won't do that. I see the
+whole thing; it is all because Keith was so thorough a Highlander. They
+were talking about Scotland: and no doubt he said there was nothing in
+the country to be compared with our islands, and caves, and cliffs. And
+then they spoke of coming, and of course he threw open the doors of the
+house to them. He would not have been a Highlander if he had done
+anything else, auntie; and I know you won't be the one to make him break
+off an invitation. And if we cannot give them grand entertainments at
+Dare, we can give them a Highland welcome, anyway.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This appeal to the Highland pride of the mother was not to be withstood.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, Keith,&quot; said she. &quot;We shall do what we can for your friends,
+though it isn't much in this old place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_224" id="Page_224" />She will not look at it that way,&quot; he said, eagerly, &quot;I know that. She
+will be proud to meet you, mother, and to shake hands with you, and to
+go about with you, and do just whatever you are doing&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Macleod started.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How long do you propose this visit should last?&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I don't know,&quot; he said, hastily. &quot;But you know, mother, you would
+not hurry your guests; for I am sure you would be as proud as any one to
+show them that we had things worth seeing. We should take her to the
+cathedral at Iona on some moonlight night; and then some day we could go
+out to the Dubh Artach lighthouse&mdash;and you know how the men are
+delighted to see a new face&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You would never think of that, Keith,&quot; his cousin said. &quot;Do you think a
+London young lady would have the courage to be swung on to the rocks and
+to climb up all those steps outside?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She has the courage for that or for anything,&quot; said he. &quot;And then, you
+know, she would be greatly interested in the clouds of puffins and the
+skarts behind Staffa, and we would take her to the great caves in the
+cliffs at Gribun; and I have no doubt she would like to go out to one of
+the uninhabited islands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Macleod had preserved a stern silence. When she had so far yielded
+as to promise to ask those two strangers to come to Castle Dare on their
+round of the Western Islands, she had taken it for granted that their
+visit would necessarily be of the briefest; but the projects of which
+Keith Macleod now spoke seemed to suggest something like a summer passed
+at Dare. And he went on talking in this strain, nervously delighted with
+the pictures that each promised excursion called up. Miss White would be
+charmed with this, and delighted with that. Janet would find her so
+pleasant a companion; the mother would be inclined to pet her at first
+sight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is already anxious to make your acquaintance mother,&quot; said he to
+the proud old dame who sat there ominously silent. &quot;And she could think
+of no other message to send you than this&mdash;it belonged to her mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He opened the little package&mdash;of old lace, or something of that
+kind&mdash;and handed it to his mother; and at the same time, his impetuosity
+carrying him on, he said that perhaps, <a name="Page_225" id="Page_225" />the mother would write now and
+propose the visit in the summer.</p>
+
+<p>At this Lady Macleod's surprise overcame her reserve.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must be mad, Keith! To write in the middle of winter and send an
+invitation for the summer! And really the whole thing is so
+extraordinary&mdash;a present coming to me from an absolute stranger&mdash;- and
+that stranger an actress who is quite unknown to any one I know&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother, mother,&quot; he cried, &quot;don't say any more. She has promised to be
+my wife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Macleod stared at him as if to see whether he had really gone mad,
+and rose and pushed back her chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Keith,&quot; she said, slowly and with a cold dignity, &quot;when you choose a
+wife, I hope I will be the first to welcome her, and I shall be proud to
+see you with a wife worthy of the name that you bear; but in the
+meantime I do not think that such a subject should be made the occasion
+of a foolish jest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And with that she left the apartment, and Keith Macleod turned in a
+bewildered sort of fashion to his cousin. Janet Macleod had risen too;
+she was regarding him with anxious and troubled and tender eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Janet,&quot; said he, &quot;it is no jest at all!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know that,&quot; said she, in a low voice, and her face was somewhat pale.
+&quot;I have known that. I knew it before you went away to England this last
+time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And suddenly she went over to him and bravely held out her hand; and
+there were quick tears in the beautiful gray eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Keith,&quot; said she, &quot;there is no one will be more proud to see you happy
+than I; and I will do what I can for you now, if you will let me, for I
+see your whole heart is set on it; and how can I doubt that you have
+chosen a good wife?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh Janet, if you could only see her and know her!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She turned aside for a moment&mdash;only for a moment. When he next saw her
+face she was quite gay.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must know, Keith,&quot; said she, with a smile shining through the tears
+of the friendly eyes, &quot;that women-folk are very jealous; and all of a
+sudden you come to auntie and me, and tell us that a stranger has taken
+away your heart from us and from Dare; and you must expect us to be
+angry and resentful just a little bit at first.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I never could expect that from you, Janet,&quot; said he. &quot;I knew that was
+impossible from you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_226" id="Page_226" />As for auntie, then,&quot; she said, warmly, &quot;is it not natural that she
+should be surprised and perhaps offended&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But she says she does not believe it&mdash;that I am making a joke of it&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is only her way of protesting, you know,&quot; said the wise cousin.
+&quot;And you must expect her to be angry and obdurate, because women have
+their prejudices, you know, Keith; and this young lady&mdash;well, it is a
+pity she is not known to some one auntie knows.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is known to Norman Ogilvie, and to dozens of Norman Ogilvie's
+friends, and Major Stuart has seen her,&quot; said he, quickly; and then he
+drew back. &quot;But that is nothing. I do not choose to have any one to
+vouch for her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know that; I understand that, Keith,&quot; Janet Macleod said, gently. &quot;It
+is enough for me that you have chosen her to be your wife; I know you
+would choose a good woman to be your wife; and it will be enough for
+your mother when she comes to reflect. But you must be patient.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Patient I would be, if it concerned myself alone,&quot; said he; &quot;but the
+reflection&mdash;the insult of the doubt&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, now, Keith,&quot; said she, &quot;don't let the hot blood of the Macleods
+get the better of you. You must be patient, and considerate. If you will
+sit down now quietly, and tell me all about the young lady, I will be
+your ambassador, if you like; and I think I will be able to persuade
+auntie.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder if there ever was any woman as kind as you are, Janet?&quot; said
+he, looking at her with a sort of wondering admiration.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must not say that any more now,&quot; she said, with a smile. &quot;You must
+consider the young lady you have chosen as perfection in all things. And
+this is a small matter. If auntie is difficult to persuade, and should
+protest, and so forth, what she says will not hurt me, whereas it might
+hurt you very sorely. And now you will tell me all about the young lady,
+for I must have my hands full of arguments when I go to your mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so this Court of Inquiry was formed, with one witness not altogether
+unprejudiced in giving his evidence, and with a judge ready to become
+the accomplice of the witness at any point. Somehow Macleod avoided
+speaking of Gertrude White's appearance. Janet was rather a plain woman,
+despite those tender Celtic eyes. He spoke rather of her filial duty and
+her sisterly affection; he minutely described her qualities as a
+house-mistress; and he was enthusiastic <a name="Page_227" id="Page_227" />about the heroism she had shown
+in determining to throw aside the glittering triumphs of her calling to
+live a simpler and wholesomer life. That passage in the career of Miss
+Gertrude White somewhat puzzled Janet Macleod. If it were the case that
+the ambitions and jealousies and simulated emotions of a life devoted to
+art had a demoralizing and degrading effect on the character, why had
+not the young lady made the discovery a little earlier? What was the
+reason of her very sudden conversion? It was no doubt very noble on her
+part, if she really were convinced that this continual stirring up of
+sentiment without leading to practical issues had an unwholesome
+influence on her woman's nature, to voluntarily surrender all the
+intoxication of success, with its praises and flatteries. But why was
+the change in her opinion so sudden? According to Macleod's own account,
+Miss Gertrude White, when he first went up to London, was wholly given
+over to the ambition of succeeding in her profession. She was then the
+&quot;white slave.&quot; She made no protest against the repeatedly announced
+theories of her father to the effect that an artist ceased to live for
+himself or herself, and became merely a medium for the expression of the
+emotions of others. Perhaps the gentle cousin Janet would have had a
+clearer view of the whole case if she had known that Miss Gertrude
+White's awakening doubts as to the wholesomeness of simulated emotions
+on the human soul were strictly coincident in point of time with her
+conviction that at any moment she pleased she might call herself Lady
+Macleod.</p>
+
+<p>With all the art he knew he described the beautiful small courtesies and
+tender ways of the little household at Rose Bank; and he made it appear
+that this young lady, brought up amidst the sweet observances of the
+South, was making an enormous sacrifice in offering to brave, for his
+sake, the transference to the harder and harsher ways of the North.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And, you know, Keith, she speaks a good deal for her self,&quot; Janet
+Macleod said, turning over the photographs and looking at them perhaps a
+little wistfully. &quot;It is a pretty face. It must make many friends for
+her. If she were here herself now, I don't think auntie would hold out
+for a moment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is what I know,&quot; said he, eagerly. &quot;That is why I am anxious she
+should come here. And if it were only possible to bring her now, there
+would be no more trouble; and I think we could get her to leave the
+stage&mdash;at least I would try. But how could we ask her to Dare in the
+winter <a name="Page_228" id="Page_228" />time? The sea and the rain would frighten her, and she would
+never consent to live here. And perhaps she needs time to quite make up
+her mind. She said she would educate herself all the winter through, and
+that, when I saw her again, she would be a thorough Highland woman. That
+shows you how willing she is to make any sacrifice if she thinks it
+right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But if she is convinced,&quot; said Janet, doubtfully, &quot;that she ought to
+leave the stage, why does she not do so at once? You say her father has
+enough money to support the family?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, he has,&quot; said Macleod; and then he added, with some hesitation,
+&quot;well, Janet, I did not like to press that. She has already granted so
+much. But I might ask her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At this moment Lady Macleod's maid came into the hall and said that her
+mistress wished to see Miss Macleod.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps auntie thinks I am conspiring with you Keith,&quot; she said,
+laughing, when the girl had gone. &quot;Well, you will leave the whole thing
+in my hands, and I will do what I can. And be patient and reasonable,
+Keith, even if your mother won't hear of it for a day or two. We women
+are very prejudiced against each other, you know; and we have quick
+tempers, and we want a little coaxing and persuasion&mdash;that is all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have always been a good friend to me, Janet,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I hope it will all turn out for your happiness, Keith,&quot; she said,
+gently, as she left.</p>
+
+<p>But as for Lady Macleod, when Janet reached her room, the haughty old
+dame was &quot;neither to hold nor to bind.&quot; There was nothing she would not
+have done for this favorite son of hers but this one thing. Give her
+consent to such a marriage? The ghosts of all the Macleods of Dare would
+call shame on her!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, auntie,&quot; said the patient Janet, &quot;he has been a good son to you;
+and you must have known he would marry some day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Marry?&quot; said the old lady, and she turned a quick eye on Janet herself.
+&quot;I was anxious to see him married; and when he was choosing a wife I
+think he might have looked nearer home, Janet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What a wild night it is!&quot; said Janet Macleod quickly, and she went for
+a moment to the window. &quot;The <i>Dunara</i> <a name="Page_229" id="Page_229" />will be coming round the Mull of
+Cantire just about now. And where is the present, auntie, that the young
+lady sent you? You must write and thank her for that, at all events; and
+shall I write the letter for you in the morning?&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX" />CHAPTER XXIX.</h2>
+
+<h3>FIRST IMPRESSIONS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Lady Macleod remained obdurate; Janet went about the house with a sad
+look on her face; and Macleod, tired of the formal courtesy that
+governed the relations between his mother and himself, spent most of his
+time in snipe and duck shooting about the islands&mdash;braving the wild
+winds and wilder seas in a great, open lugsailed boat, the <i>Umpire</i>
+having long been sent to her winter-quarters. But the harsh, rough life
+had its compensations. Letters came from the South&mdash;treasures to be
+pored over night after night with an increasing wonder and admiration.
+Miss Gertrude White was a charming letter-writer; and now there was no
+restraint at all over her frank confessions and playful humors. Her
+letters were a prolonged chat&mdash;bright, rambling, merry, thoughtful, just
+as the mood occurred. She told him of her small adventures and the
+incidents of her everyday life, so that he could delight himself with
+vivid pictures of herself and her surroundings. And again and again she
+hinted rather than said that she was continually thinking of the
+Highlands, and of the great change in store for her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yesterday morning,&quot; she wrote, &quot;I was going down the Edgeware Road, and
+whom should I see but two small boys, dressed as young Highlanders,
+staring into the window of a toy-shop. Stalwart young fellows they were,
+with ruddy complexions and brown legs, and their Glengarries
+coquettishly placed on the side of their head; and I could see at once
+that their plain kilt was no holiday dress. How could I help speaking to
+them? I thought perhaps they had come from Mull. And so I went up to
+them and asked if they would let me buy a toy for each of them. 'We dot
+money,' says the younger, with a bold stare at my impertinence. 'But you
+can't refuse to accept a present from a lady?' I said. 'Oh <a name="Page_230" id="Page_230" />no, ma am,'
+said the elder boy, and he politely raised his cap; and the accent of
+his speech&mdash;well, it made my heart jump. But I was very nearly
+disappointed when I got them into the shop; for I asked what their name
+was; and they answered 'Lavender.' 'Why, surely, that is not a Highland,
+name,' I said. 'No, ma'am,' said the elder lad; 'but my mamma is from
+the Highlands, and we are from the Highlands, and we are going back to
+spend the New-year at home.' 'And where is your home?' I asked; but I
+have forgotten the name of the place; I understood it was somewhere away
+in the North. And then I asked them if they had ever been to Mull. 'We
+have passed it in the <i>Clansman</i>' said the elder boy. 'And do you know
+one Sir Keith Macleod there?' I asked. 'Oh no, ma'am,' said he, staring
+at me with his clear blue eyes as if I was a very stupid person, 'The
+Macleods are from Skye.' 'But surely one of them may live in Mull,' I
+suggested. 'The Macleods are from Skye,' he maintained, 'and my papa was
+at Dunvegan last year.' Then came the business of choosing the toys; and
+the smaller child would have a boat, though his elder brother laughed at
+him, and said something about a former boat of his having been blown out
+into Loch Rogue&mdash;which seemed to me a strange name for even a Highland
+loch. But the elder lad, he must needs have a sword; and when I asked
+him what he wanted that for, he said, quite proudly, 'To kill the
+Frenchmen with.' 'To kill Frenchmen with?' I said; for this young
+fire-eater seemed to mean what he said. 'Yes, ma'am,' said he, 'for they
+shoot the sheep out on the Flannan Islands when no one sees them; but we
+will catch them some day.' I was afraid to ask him where the Flannan
+Islands were, for I could see he was already regarding me as a very
+ignorant person; so I had their toys tied up for them, and packed them
+off home. 'And when you get home,' I said to them, 'you will give my
+compliments to your mamma, and say that you got the ship and the sword
+from a lady who has a great liking for the Highland people.' 'Yes,
+ma'am,' says he, touching his cap again with a proud politeness; and
+then they went their ways, and I saw them no more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the Christmas-time came, with all its mystery, and friendly
+observances, and associations; and she described to him how Carry and
+she were engaged in decorating certain schools in which they were
+interested, and how a young curate had paid her a great deal of
+attention, until some one went <a name="Page_231" id="Page_231" />and told him, as a cruel joke, that Miss
+White was a celebrated dancer at a music-hall.</p>
+
+<p>Then, on Christmas morning, behold, the very first snow of the year! She
+got up early; she went out alone; the holiday world of London was not
+yet awake.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I never in my life saw anything more beautiful,&quot; she wrote to him,
+&quot;than Regent's Park this morning, in a pale fog, with just a sprinkling
+of snow on the green of the grass, and one great yellow mansion shining
+through the mist&mdash;the sunlight on it&mdash;like some magnificent distant
+palace. And I said to myself, if I were a poet or a painter I would take
+the common things, and show people the wonder and the beauty of them;
+for I believe the sense of wonder is a sort of light that shines in the
+soul of the artist; and the least bit of the 'denying spirit'&mdash;the
+utterance of the word <i>connu</i>&mdash;snuffs it out at once. But then, dear
+Keith, I caught myself asking what I had to do with all these dreams,
+and these theories that papa would like to have talked about. What had I
+to do with art? And then I grew miserable. Perhaps the loneliness of the
+park, with only those robust, hurrying strangers crossing, blowing their
+fingers, and pulling their cravats closer, had affected me; or perhaps
+it was that I suddenly found how helpless I am by myself. I want a
+sustaining hand, Keith; and that is now far away from me. I can do
+anything with myself of set purpose, but it doesn't last. If you remind
+me that one ought generously to overlook the faults of others&mdash;I
+generously overlook the faults of others&mdash;for five minutes. If you
+remind me that to harbor jealousy and envy is mean and contemptible, I
+make an effort, and throw out all jealous and envious thoughts&mdash;for five
+minutes. And so you see I got discontented with myself; and I hated two
+men who were calling loud jokes at each other as they parted different
+ways; and I marched home through the fog, feeling rather inclined to
+quarrel with somebody. By the way, did you ever notice that you often
+can detect the relationship between people by their similar mode of
+walking, and that more easily than by any likeness of face? As I
+strolled home, I could tell which of the couples of men walking before
+me were brothers by the similar bending of the knee and the similar
+gait, even when their features were quite unlike. There was one man
+whose fashion of walking was really very droll; his right knee gave a
+sort of preliminary shake as if it was uncertain which way the foot
+wanted to go. For the life of me I could not help imitating <a name="Page_232" id="Page_232" />him; and
+then I wondered what his face would be like if he were suddenly to turn
+round and catch me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That still dream of Regent's Park in sunlight and snow he carried about
+with him as a vision&mdash;a picture&mdash;even amidst the blustering westerly
+winds, and the riven seas that sprung over the rocks and swelled and
+roared away into the caves of Gribun and Bourg. There was no snow as yet
+up here at Dare, but wild tempests shaking the house to its foundations,
+and brief gleams of stormy sunlight lighting up the gray spindrift as it
+was whirled shoreward from the breaking seas; and then days of slow and
+mournful rain, with Staffa, and Lunga, and the Dutchman become mere dull
+patches of blurred purple&mdash;when they were visible at all&mdash;on the
+leaden-hued and coldly rushing Atlantic.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have passed through the gates of the Palace of Art,&quot; she wrote, two
+days later, from the calmer and sunnier South; &quot;and I have entered its
+mysterious halls, and I have breathed for a time the hushed atmosphere
+of wonderland. Do you remember meeting a Mr. Lemuel at any time at Mrs.
+Ross's&mdash;a man with a strange, gray, tired face, and large, wan, blue
+eyes, and an air as if he were walking in a dream? Perhaps not; but, at
+all events, he is a great painter, who never exhibits to the vulgar
+crowd, but who is worshipped by a select circle of devotees; and his
+house is a temple dedicated to high art, and only profound believers are
+allowed to cross the threshold. Oh dear me! I am not a believer; but how
+can I help that? Mr. Lemuel is a friend of papa's, however; they have
+mysterious talks over milk-jugs of colored stone, and small pictures
+with gilt skies, and angels in red and blue. Well, yesterday he called
+on papa, and requested his permission to ask me to sit&mdash;or, rather,
+stand&mdash;for the heroine of his next great work, which is to be an
+allegorical one, taken from the 'Faery Queen' or the 'Morte d'Arthur,'
+or some such book. I protested; it was no use. 'Good gracious, papa,' I
+said, 'do you know what he will make of me? He will give me a dirty
+brown face, and I shall wear a dirty green dress; and no doubt I shall
+be standing beside a pool of dirty blue water, with a purple sky
+overhead, and a white moon in it. The chances are he will dislocate my
+neck, and give me gaunt cheeks like a corpse, with a serpent under my
+foot, or a flaming dragon stretching his jaws behind my back.' Papa was
+deeply shocked at my levity. Was it for me, an artist (bless the mark!),
+to baulk the high aims of art? Besides <a name="Page_233" id="Page_233" />it was vaguely hinted that, to
+reward me, certain afternoon-parties were to be got up; and then, when I
+had got out of Merlin-land, and assured myself I was human by eating
+lunch, I was to meet a goodly company of distinguished folk&mdash;great
+poets, and one or two more mystic painters, a dilettante duke, and the
+nameless crowd of worshippers who would come to sit at the feet of all
+these, and sigh adoringly, and shake their heads over the Philistinism
+of English society. I don't care for ugly medi&aelig;val maidens myself, nor
+for allegorical serpents, nor for bloodless men with hollow cheeks,
+supposed to represent soldierly valor; if I were an artist, I would
+rather show people the beauty of a common brick wall when the red winter
+sunset shines along it. But perhaps that is only my ignorance, and I may
+learn better before Mr. Lemuel has done with me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When Macleod first read this passage, a dark expression came over his
+face. He did not like this new project.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And so, yesterday afternoon,&quot; the letter continued, &quot;papa and I went to
+Mr. Lemuel's house, which is only a short way from here; and we entered,
+and found ourselves in a large circular and domed hall, pretty nearly
+dark, and with a number of closed doors. It was all hushed, and
+mysterious, and dim; but there was a little more light when the man
+opened one of these doors and showed us into a chamber&mdash;or, rather, one
+of a series of chambers&mdash;that seemed to me at first like a big child's
+toy-house, all painted and gilded with red and gold. It was
+bewilderingly full of objects that had no ostensible purpose. You could
+not tell whether any one of these rooms was dining-room, or
+drawing-room, or anything else; it was all a museum of wonderful
+cabinets filled with different sorts of ware, and trays of uncut
+precious stones, and Eastern jewelry, and what not; and then you
+discovered that in the panels of the cabinets were painted series of
+allegorical heads on a gold background; and then perhaps you stumbled on
+a painted glass window where no window should be. It was a splendid
+blaze of color, no doubt. One began to dream of Byzantine emperors, and
+Moorish conquerors, and Constantinople gilt domes. But then&mdash;mark the
+dramatic effect!&mdash;away in the blaze of the farther chamber appears a
+solemn, slim, bowed figure, dressed all in black&mdash;the black velvet coat
+seemed even blacker than black&mdash;and the mournful-eyed man approached,
+and he gazed upon us a grave welcome from the pleading, affected, tired
+eyes. <a name="Page_234" id="Page_234" />He had a slight cough, too, which I rather fancied was assumed
+for the occasion. Then we all sat down, and he talked to us in a low,
+sad, monotonous voice; and there was a smell of frankincense about&mdash;no
+doubt a band of worshippers had lately been visiting at the shrine; and,
+at papa's request, he showed me some of his trays of jewels with a
+wearied air. And some drawings of Botticelli that papa had been speaking
+about; would he look at them now? Oh, dear Keith, the wickedness of the
+human imagination! as he went about in this limp and languid fashion, in
+the hushed room, with the old-fashioned scent in the air, I wished I was
+a street boy. I wished I could get close behind him, and give a sudden
+yell! Would he fly into bits? Would he be so startled into naturalness
+as to swear? And all the time that papa and he talked, I dared scarcely
+lift my eyes; for I could not but think of the effect of that wild 'Hi!'
+And what if I had burst into a fit of laughter without any apparent
+cause?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Apparently Miss White had not been much impressed by her visit to Mr.
+Lemuel's palace of art, and she made thereafter but slight mention of
+it, though she had been prevailed upon to let the artist borrow the
+expression of her face for his forthcoming picture. She had other things
+to think about now, when she wrote to Castle Dare.</p>
+
+<p>For one day Lady Macleod went into her son's room and said to him, &quot;Here
+is a letter, Keith, which I have written to Miss White. I wish you to
+read it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He jumped to his feet, and hastily ran his eyes over the letter. It was
+a trifle formal, it is true; but it was kind, and it expressed the hope
+that Miss White and her father would next summer visit Castle Dare. The
+young man threw his arms round his mother's neck and kissed her. &quot;That
+is like a good mother,&quot; said he. &quot;Do you know how happy she will be when
+she receives this message from you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Macleod left him the letter to address. He read it over carefully;
+and though he saw that the handwriting was the handwriting of his
+mother, he knew that the spirit that had prompted these words was that
+of the gentle cousin Janet.</p>
+
+<p>This concession had almost been forced from the old lady by the patience
+and mild persistence of Janet Macleod; but if anything could have
+assured her that she had acted properly in yielding, it was the answer
+which Miss Gertrude White sent in return. Miss White wrote that letter
+several times over before sending it off, and it was a clever piece of
+<a name="Page_235" id="Page_235" />composition. The timid expressions of gratitude; the hints of the
+writer's sympathy with the romance of the Highlands and the Highland
+character; the deference shown by youth to age; and here and there just
+the smallest glimpse of humor, to show that Miss White, though very
+humble and respectful and all that, was not a mere fool. Lady Macleod
+was pleased by this letter. She showed it to her son one night at
+dinner. &quot;It is a pretty hand,&quot; she remarked, critically.</p>
+
+<p>Keith Macleod read it with a proud heart. &quot;Can you not gather what kind
+of woman she is from that letter alone?&quot; he said, eagerly. &quot;I can almost
+hear her talk in it. Janet, will you read it too?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Janet Macleod took the small sheet of perfumed paper and read it calmly,
+and handed it back to her aunt. &quot;It is a nice letter,&quot; said she. &quot;We
+must try to make Dare as bright as maybe when she comes to see us, that
+she will not go back to England with a bad account of the Highland
+people.&quot; That was all that was said at the time about the promised visit
+of Miss Gertrude White to Castle Dare. It was only as a visitor that
+Lady Macleod had consented to receive her. There was no word mentioned
+on either side of anything further than that. Mr. White and his daughter
+were to be in the Highlands next summer; they would be in the
+neighborhood of Castle Dare; Lady Macleod would be glad to entertain
+them for a time, and make the acquaintance of two of her son's friends.
+At all events, the proud old lady would be able to see what sort of
+woman this was whom Keith Macleod had chosen to be his wife.</p>
+
+<p>And so the winter days and nights and weeks dragged slowly by; but
+always, from time to time, came those merry and tender and playful
+letters from the South, which he listened to rather than read. It was
+her very voice that was speaking to him, and in imagination he went
+about with her. He strolled with her over the crisp grass, whitened with
+hoar-frost, of the Regent's Park; he hurried home with her in the chill
+gray afternoons&mdash;the yellow gas-lamps being lit&mdash;to the little
+tea-table. When she visited a picture gallery, she sent him a full
+report of that, even.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why is it,&quot; she asked, &quot;that one is so delighted to look a long
+distance, even when the view is quite uninteresting? I wonder if that is
+why I greatly prefer landscapes to figure subjects. The latter always
+seem to me to be painted from models just come from the Hampstead Road.
+There was <a name="Page_236" id="Page_236" />scarcely a sea-piece in the exhibition that was not spoiled
+by figures, put in for the sake of picturesqueness, I suppose. Why, when
+you are by the sea you want to be alone, surely! Ah, if I could only
+have a look at those winter seas you speak of!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He did not echo that wish at all. Even as he read he could hear the
+thunderous booming of the breakers into the giant caves. Was it for a
+pale rose-leaf to brave that fell wind that tore the waves into
+spindrift, and howled through the lonely chasms of Ben-an-Sloich?</p>
+
+<p>To one of these precious documents, written in the small, neat hand on
+pink-toned and perfumed paper, a
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'postcript'">postscript</ins>
+was added: &quot;If you keep my
+letters,&quot; she wrote, and he laughed when he saw that <i>if</i>, &quot;I wish you
+would go back to the one in which I told you of papa and me calling at
+Mr. Lemuel's house, and I wish, dear Keith, you would burn it. I am sure
+it was very cruel and unjust. One often makes the mistake of thinking
+people affected when there is no affectation about them. And if a man
+has injured his health and made an invalid of himself, through his
+intense and constant devotion to his work, surely that is not anything
+to be laughed at? Whatever Mr. Lemuel may be, he is, at all events,
+desperately in earnest. The passion that he has for his art, and his
+patience and concentration and self-sacrifice, seems to me to be nothing
+less than noble. And so, dear Keith, will you please to burn that
+impertinent letter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod sought out the letter and carefully read it over. He came to the
+conclusion that he could see no just reason for complying with her
+demand. Frequently first impressions are best.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX" />CHAPTER XXX.</h2>
+
+<h3>A GRAVE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>In the by-gone days, this eager, active, stout-limbed young fellow had
+met the hardest winter with a glad heart. He rejoiced in its thousand
+various pursuits; he set his teeth against the driving hail; he laughed
+at the drenching spray that sprung high over the bows of his boat; and
+what <a name="Page_237" id="Page_237" />harm ever came to him if he took the short-cut across the upper
+reaches of Loch Scridain, wading waist-deep through a mile of sea-water
+on a bitter January day? And where was the loneliness of his life when
+always, wherever he went by sea or shore, he had these old friends
+around him&mdash;the red-beaked sea-pyots whirring along the rocks; and the
+startled curlews, whistling their warning note across the sea; and the
+shy duck swimming far out on the smooth lochs; to say nothing of the
+black game that would scarcely move from their perch on the larch-trees
+as he approached, and the deer that were more distinctly visible on the
+far heights of Ben-an-Sloich when a slight sprinkling of snow had
+fallen?</p>
+
+<p>But now all this was changed. The awfulness of the dark winter-time
+amidst those Northern seas overshadowed him. &quot;It is like going into a
+grave,&quot; he had said to her. And, with all his passionate longing to see
+her and have speech of her once more, how could he dare to ask her to
+approach these dismal solitudes? Sometimes he tried to picture her
+coming, and to read in imagination the look on her face. See now!&mdash;how
+she clings terrified to the side of the big open packet-boat that
+crosses the Frith of Lorn, and she dares not look abroad on the howling
+waste of waves. The mountains of Mull rise sad and cold and distant
+before her; there is no bright glint of sunshine to herald her approach.
+This small dog-cart, now: it is a frail thing with which to plunge into
+the wild valleys, for surely a gust of wind might whirl into the chasm
+of roaring waters below Glen-More: who that has ever seen Glen-More on a
+lowering January day will ever forget it&mdash;its silence, its loneliness,
+its vast and lifeless gloom? Her face is pale now; she sits speechless
+and awestricken; for the mountain-walls that overhang this sombre ravine
+seem ready to fall on her, and there is an awful darkness spreading
+along their summits under the heavy swathes of cloud. And then those
+black lakes far down in the lone hollows, more death-like and terrible
+than any tourist-haunted Loch Coruisk: would she not turn to him and,
+with trembling hands, implore him to take her back and away to the more
+familiar and bearable South? He began to see all these things with her
+eyes. He began to fear the awful things of the winter-time and the seas.
+The glad heart had gone out of him.</p>
+
+<p>Even the beautiful aspects of the Highland winter had something about
+them&mdash;an isolation, a terrible silence&mdash;that he grew almost to dread.
+What was this strange thing, for <a name="Page_238" id="Page_238" />example? Early in the morning he
+looked from the windows of his room, and he could have imagined he was
+not at Dare at all. All the familiar objects of sea and shore had
+disappeared; this was a new world&mdash;a world of fantastic shapes, all
+moving and unknown&mdash;a world of vague masses of gray, though here and
+there a gleam of lemon-color shining through the fog showed that the
+dawn was reflected on a glassy sea. Then he began to make out the things
+around him. That great range of purple mountains was Ulva&mdash;Ulva
+transfigured and become Alpine! Then those wan gleams of yellow light on
+the sea?&mdash;he went to the other window, and behold! the heavy bands of
+cloud that lay across the unseen peaks of Ben-an-Sloich had parted, and
+there was a blaze of clear, metallic, green sky; and the clouds
+bordering on that gleam of light were touched with a smoky and stormy
+saffron-hue that flashed and changed amidst the seething and twisting
+shapes of the fog and the mist. He turned to the sea again&mdash;what
+phantom-ship was this that appeared in mid-air, and apparently moving
+when there was no wind? He heard the sound of oars; the huge vessel
+turned out to be only the boat of the Gometra men going out to the
+lobster-traps. The yellow light on the glassy plain waxes stronger; new
+objects appear through the shifting fog; until at last a sudden opening
+shows him a wonderful thing far away&mdash;apparently at the very confines of
+the world&mdash;and awful in its solitary splendor. For that is the distant
+island of Staffa, and it has caught the colors of the dawn; and amidst
+the cold grays of the sea it shines a pale, transparent rose.</p>
+
+<p>He would like to have sent her, if he had got any skill of the brush,
+some brief memorandum of that beautiful thing; but indeed, and in any
+case, that was not the sort of painting she seemed to care for just
+then. Mr. Lemuel, and his Palace of Art, and his medi&aelig;val saints, and
+what not, which had all for a time disappeared from Miss White's
+letters, began now to monopolize a good deal of space there; and there
+was no longer any impertinent playfulness in her references, but, on the
+contrary, a respect and admiration that occasionally almost touched
+enthusiasm. From hints more than statements Macleod gathered that Miss
+White had been made much of by the people frequenting Mr. Lemuel's
+house. She had there met one or two gentlemen who had written very fine
+things about her in the papers; and certain highly distinguished people
+had been good enough to send her cards <a name="Page_239" id="Page_239" />of invitation; and she had once
+or twice been persuaded to read some piece of dramatic poetry at Mr.
+Lemuel's afternoon parties; and she even suggested that Mr. Lemuel had
+almost as much as said that he would like to paint her portrait. Mr.
+Lemuel had also offered her, but she had refused to accept, a small but
+marvellous study by Pinturicchio, which most people considered the gem
+of his collection.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod, reading and re-reading these letters many a time in the
+solitudes of western Mull, came to the opinion that there must be a good
+deal of amusement going on in London. And was it not natural that a
+young girl should like to be petted, and flattered, and made much of?
+Why should he complain when she wrote to say how she enjoyed this and
+was charmed by that? Could he ask her to exchange that gay and pleasant
+life for this hibernation in Mull? Sometimes for days together the
+inhabitants of Castle Dare literally lived in the clouds. Dense bands of
+white mist lay all along the cliffs; and they lived in a semi-darkness,
+with the mournful dripping of the rain on the wet garden, and the
+mournful wash of the sea all around the shores. He was glad, then, that
+Gertrude White was not at Castle Dare.</p>
+
+<p>But sometimes, when he could not forbear opening his heart to her, and
+pressing her for some more definite assurance as to the future, the
+ordinary playful banter in which she generally evaded his urgency gave
+place to a tone of coldness that astonished and alarmed him. Why should
+she so cruelly resent this piteous longing of his? Was she no longer,
+then, so anxious to escape from the thraldom that had seemed so hateful
+to her?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hamish,&quot; said Macleod, abruptly, after reading one of these letters,
+&quot;come, now, we will go and overhaul the <i>Umpire</i>, for you know she is to
+be made very smart this summer; for we have people coming all the way
+from London to Dare, and they must not think we do not know in Mull how
+to keep a yacht in shipshape.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, sir,&quot; said Hamish; &quot;and if we do not know that in Mull, where will
+they be likely to know that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you will get the cushions in the saloon covered again; and we will
+have a new mirror for the ladies' cabin, and Miss Macleod, if you ask
+her, will put a piece of lace round the top of that, to make it look
+like a lady's room. And then, you know, Hamish, you can show the little
+boy Johnny Wickes how to polish the brass; and he will polish the brass
+in the ladies' cabin until it is as white as silver. <a name="Page_240" id="Page_240" />Because, you know,
+Hamish, they have very fine yachts in the South. They are like hotels on
+the water. We must try to be as smart as we can.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not know about the hotels,&quot; said Hamish, scornfully. &quot;And perhaps
+it is a fine thing to hef a hotel; and Mr. M'Arthur they say he is a
+ferry rich man, and he has ferry fine pictures too; but I was thinking
+that if I will be off the Barra Head on a bad night&mdash;between the
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Sgirobh'">Sgriobh</ins>
+bhan and the Barra Head on a bad night&mdash;it is not any hotel I
+will be wishing that I wass in, but a good boat. And the <i>Umpire</i> she is
+a good boat; and I hef no fear of going anywhere in the world with
+her&mdash;to London or to Inverary, ay, or the Queen's own castle on the
+island&mdash;and she will go there safe, and she will come back safe; and if
+she is not a hotel&mdash;well, perhaps she will not be a hotel; but she is a
+fine good boat, and she has swinging lamps whatever.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But even the presence of the swinging-lamps, which Hamish regarded as
+the highest conceivable point of luxury, did little to lessen the
+dolorousness of the appearance of the poor old <i>Umpire</i>. As Macleod,
+seated in the stern of the gig, approached her, she looked like some
+dingy old hulk relegated to the duty of keeping stores. Her top-mast and
+bowsprit removed; not a stitch of cord on her; only the black iron
+shrouds remaining of all her rigging; her skylights and companion-hatch
+covered with waterproof&mdash;it was a sorry spectacle. And then when they
+went below, even the swinging-lamps were blue-moulded and stiff. There
+was an odor of damp straw throughout. All the cushions and carpets had
+been removed; there was nothing but the bare wood of the floor and the
+couches and the table; with a match-box saturated with wet, an empty
+wine-bottle, a newspaper five months old, a rusty corkscrew, a patch of
+dirty water&mdash;the leakage from the skylight overhead.</p>
+
+<p>That was what Hamish saw.</p>
+
+<p>What Macleod saw, as he stood there absently staring at the bare wood,
+was very different. It was a beautiful, comfortable saloon that he saw,
+all brightly furnished and gilded, and there was a dish of
+flowers&mdash;heather and rowan-berries intermixed&mdash;on the soft red cover of
+the table. And who is this that is sitting there, clad in sailor-like
+blue and white, and laughing, as she talks in her soft English speech?
+He is telling her that, if she means to be a sailor's bride, she must
+give up the wearing of gloves on board ship, although, to be sure, those
+gloved small hands look pretty enough as they <a name="Page_241" id="Page_241" />rest on the table and
+play with a bit of bell-heather. How bright her smile is. She is in a
+mood for teasing people. The laughing face, but for the gentleness of
+the eyes, would be audacious. They say that the width between those
+long-lashed eyes is a common peculiarity of the artist's face; but she
+is no longer an artist; she is only the brave young yachtswoman who
+lives at Castle Dare. The shepherds know her, and answer her in the
+Gaelic when she speaks to them in passing; the sailors know her, and
+would adventure their lives to gratify her slightest wish; and the
+bearded fellows who live their solitary life far out at Dubh Artach
+lighthouse, when she goes out to them with a new parcel of books and
+magazines, do not know how to show their gladness at the very sight of
+her bonnie face. There was once an actress of the same name, but this is
+quite a different woman. And to-morrow&mdash;do you know what she is going to
+do to-morrow?&mdash;to-morrow she is going away in this very yacht to a loch
+in the distant island of Lewis, and she is going to bring back with her
+some friends of hers who live there; and there will be high holiday at
+Castle Dare. An actress? Her cheeks are too sun-browned for the cheeks
+of an actress.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, sir?&quot; Hamish said, at length; and Macleod started.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, then,&quot; he said, impatiently, &quot;why don't you go on deck and
+find out where the leakage of the skylight is?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hamish was not used to being addressed in this fashion, and walked away
+with a proud and hurt air. As he ascended the companion-way, he was
+muttering to himself in his native tongue,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I am going to find out where the leakage is, but perhaps it would
+be easier to find out below where the leakage is. If there is something
+the matter with the keel, is it the cross-trees you will go to to look
+for it? But I do not know what has come to the young master of late.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When Keith Macleod was alone, he sat down on the wooden bench and took
+out a letter, and tried to find there some assurance that this beautiful
+vision of his would some day be realized. He read it and re-read it; but
+his anxious scrutiny only left him the more disheartened. He went up on
+deck. He talked to Hamish in a perfunctory manner about the smartening
+up of the <i>Umpire</i>. He appeared to have lost interest in that already.</p>
+
+<p>And then again he would seek relief in hard work, and try to forget
+altogether this hated time of enforced absence. <a name="Page_242" id="Page_242" />One night word was
+brought by some one that the typhoid fever had broken out in the
+ill-drained cottages of Iona, and he said at once that next morning he
+would go round to Bunessan and ask the sanitary inspector there to be so
+kind as to inquire into this matter, and see whether something could not
+be done to improve these hovels.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sure the duke does not know of it, Keith,&quot; his cousin Janet said,
+&quot;or he would have a great alteration made.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is easy to make alterations,&quot; said he, &quot;but it is not easy to make
+the poor people take advantage of them. They have such good health from
+the sea-air that they will not pay attention to ordinary cleanliness.
+But now that two or three of the young girls and children are ill,
+perhaps it is a good time to have something done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Next morning, when he rose before it was daybreak, there was every
+promise of a fine day. The full moon was setting behind the western
+seas, lighting up the clouds there with a dusky yellow; in the east
+there was a wilder glare of steely blue high up over the intense
+blackness on the back of Ben-an-Sloich; and the morning was still, for
+he heard, suddenly piercing the silence, the whistle of a curlew, and
+that became more and more remote as the unseen bird winged its flight
+far over the sea. He lit the candles, and made the necessary
+preparations for his journey; for he had some message to leave at
+Kinloch, at the head of Loch Scridain, and he was going to ride round
+that way. By and by the morning light had increased so much that he blew
+out the candles.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner had he done this than his eye caught sight of something
+outside that startled him. It seemed as though great clouds of
+golden-white, all ablaze in sunshine, rested on the dark bosom of the
+deep. Instantly he went to the window; and then he saw that these clouds
+were not clouds at all, but the islands around glittering in the &quot;white
+wonder of the snow,&quot; and catching here and there the shafts of the early
+sunlight that now streamed through the valleys of Mull. The sudden
+marvel of it! There was Ulva, shining beautiful as in a sparkling bridal
+veil; and Gometra a paler blue-white in the shadow; and Colonsay and
+Erisgeir also a cold white; and Staffa pale gray; and then the sea that
+the gleaming islands rested on was a mirror of pale-green and
+rose-purple hues reflected from the morning sky. It was all dream-like,
+so still, and beautiful, and silent. But he now saw that that fine
+morning would not last. Behind the house clouds of a <a name="Page_243" id="Page_243" />suffused yellow
+began to blot out the sparkling peaks of Ben-an-Sloich. The colors of
+the plain of the sea were troubled with gusts of wind until they
+disappeared altogether. The sky in the north grew an ominous black,
+until the farther shores of Loch Tua were dazzling white against that
+bank of angry cloud. But to Bunessan he would go.</p>
+
+<p>Janet Macleod was not much afraid of the weather at any time, but she
+said to him at breakfast, in a laughing way,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if you are lost in a snowdrift in Glen Finichen, Keith, what are we
+to do for you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What are you to do for me?&mdash;why, Donald will make a fine Lament; and
+what more than that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cannot you send one of the Camerons with a message, Keith?&quot; his mother
+said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, mother,&quot; said he, &quot;I think I will go on to Fhion-fort and cross
+over to Iona myself, if Mr. Mackinnon will go with me. For it is very
+bad the cottages are there, I know; and if I must write to the duke, it
+is better that I should have made the inquiries myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And, indeed, when Macleod set out on his stout young pony Jack, paying
+but little heed to the cold driftings of sleet that the sharp east wind
+was sending across, it seemed as though he were destined to perform
+several charitable deeds all on the one errand. For, firstly, about a
+mile from the house, he met Duncan the policeman, who was making his
+weekly round in the interests of morality and law and order, and who had
+to have his book signed by the heritor of Castle Dare as sure witness
+that his peregrinations had extended so far. And Duncan was not at all
+sorry to be saved that trudge of a mile in the face of those bitter
+blasts of sleet; and he was greatly obliged to Sir Keith Macleod for
+stopping his pony, and getting out his pencil with his benumbed fingers,
+and putting his initials to the sheet. And then, again, when he had got
+into Glen Finichen, he was talking to the pony and saying,&mdash;&quot;Well, Jack,
+I don't wonder you want to stop, for the way this sleet gets down one's
+throat is rather choking. Or are you afraid of the sheep loosening the
+rocks away up there, and sending two or three hundred-weight on our
+head?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he happened to look up the steep sides of the great ravine, and
+there, quite brown against the snow, he saw a sheep that had toppled
+over some rock, and was now lying with her legs in the air. He jumped
+off his pony, and left Jack standing in the middle of the road. It was a
+stiff climb up that steep precipice, with the loose stones slippery with
+<a name="Page_244" id="Page_244" />the sleet and snow; but at last he got a good grip of the sheep by the
+back of her neck, and hauled her out of the hole into which she had
+fallen, and put her, somewhat dazed but apparently unhurt, on her legs
+again. Then he half slid and half ran down the slope again, and got into
+the saddle.</p>
+
+<p>But what was this now? The sky in the east had grown quite black; and
+suddenly this blackness began to fall as if torn down by invisible
+hands. It came nearer and nearer, until it resembled the dishevelled
+hair of a woman. And then there was a rattle and roar of wind and snow
+and hail combined; so that the pony was nearly thrown from its feet, and
+Macleod was so blinded that at first he knew not what to do. Then he saw
+some rocks ahead, and he urged the bewildered and staggering beast
+forward through the darkness of the storm. Night seemed to have
+returned. There was a flash of lightning overhead, and a crackle of
+thunder rolled down the valley, heard louder than all the howling of the
+hurricane across the mountain sides. And then, when they had reached
+this place of shelter, Macleod dismounted, and crept as close as he
+could into the lea of the rocks.</p>
+
+<p>He was startled by a voice; it was only that of old John
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Macintyre'">MacIntyre</ins>,
+the postman, who was glad enough to get into this place of refuge too.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's a bad day for you to be out this day, Sir Keith,&quot; said he, in the
+Gaelic, &quot;and you have no cause to be out; and why will you not go back
+to Castle Dare?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you any letter for me, John?&quot; said he, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>Oh yes, there was a letter; and the old man was astonished to see how
+quickly Sir Keith Macleod took that letter, and how anxiously he read
+it, as though the awfulness of the storm had no concern for him at all.
+And what was it all about, this wet sheet that he had to hold tight
+between his hands, or the gust that swept round the rocks would have
+whirled it up and away over the giant ramparts of the Bourg? It was a
+very pretty letter, and rather merry; for it was all about a fancy-dress
+ball which was to take place at Mr. Lemuel's house; and all the people
+were to wear a Spanish costume of the time of Philip IV.; and there were
+to be very grand doings indeed. And as Keith Macleod had nothing to do
+in the dull winter-time but devote himself to books, would he be so kind
+as to read up about that period, and advise her as to which historical
+character she ought to assume?</p>
+
+<p>Macleod burst out laughing, in a strange sort of way, and <a name="Page_245" id="Page_245" />put the wet
+letter in his pocket, and led Jack out into the road again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir Keith, Sir Keith!&quot; cried the old man, &quot;you will not go on now?&quot; And
+as he spoke, another blast of snow tore across the glen, and there was a
+rumble of thunder among the hills.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, John,&quot; Macleod called back again from the gray gloom of the
+whirling snow and sleet, &quot;would you have me go home and read books too?
+Do you know what a fancy dress ball is, John? And do you know what they
+think of us in the South, John: that we have nothing to do here in
+winter-time&mdash;nothing to do here but read books?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old man heard him laughing to himself in that odd way, as he rode
+off and disappeared into the driving snow; and his heart was heavy
+within him, and his mind filled with strange forebodings. It was a dark
+and an awful glen, this great ravine that led down to the solitary
+shores of Loch Scridain.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI" />CHAPTER XXXI.</h2>
+
+<h3>OVER THE SEAS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>But no harm at all came of that reckless ride through the storm; and in
+a day or two's time Macleod had almost argued himself into the belief
+that it was but natural for a young girl to be fascinated by these new
+friends. And how could he protest against a fancy-dress ball, when he
+himself had gone to one on his brief visit to London? And it was a proof
+of her confidence in him that she wished to take his advice about her
+costume.</p>
+
+<p>Then he turned to other matters; for, as the slow weeks went by, one
+eagerly disposed to look for the signs of the coming spring might
+occasionally detect a new freshness in the morning air, or even find a
+little bit of the whitlow-grass in flower among the moss of an old wall.
+And Major Stuart had come over to Dare once or twice; and had privately
+given Lady Macleod and her niece such enthusiastic accounts of Miss
+Gertrude White that the references to her forthcoming visit ceased to be
+formal and became friendly <a name="Page_246" id="Page_246" />and matter of course. It was rarely,
+however, that Keith Macleod mentioned her name. He did not seem to wish
+for any confidant. Perhaps her letters were enough.</p>
+
+<p>But on one occasion Janet Macleod said to him, with a shy smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you must be a very patient lover, Keith, to spend all the
+winter here. Another young man would have wished to go to London.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I would go to London, too!&quot; he said suddenly, and then he stopped.
+He was somewhat embarrassed. &quot;Well, I will tell you, Janet. I do not
+wish to see her any more as an actress, and she says it is better that I
+do not go to London; and&mdash;and, you know, she will soon cease to be an
+actress.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But why not now,&quot; said Janet Macleod, with some wonder, &quot;if she has
+such a great dislike for it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That I do not know,&quot; said he, somewhat gloomily.</p>
+
+<p>But he wrote to Gertrude White, and pressed the point once more, with
+great respect, it is true, but still with an earnestness of pleading
+that showed how near the matter lay to his heart. It was a letter that
+would have touched most women; and even Miss Gertrude White was pleased
+to see how anxiously interested he was in her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you know, my dear Keith,&quot; she wrote back, &quot;when people are going to
+take a great plunge into the sea, they are warned to wet their head
+first. And don't you think I should accustom myself to the change you
+have in store for me by degrees? In any case, my leaving the stage at
+the present moment could make no difference to us&mdash;you in the Highlands,
+I in London. And do you know, sir, that your request is particularly
+ill-timed; for, as it happens, I am about to enter into a new dramatic
+project of which I should probably never have heard but for you. Does
+that astonish you? Well, here is the story. It appears that you told the
+Duchess of Wexford that I would give her a performance for the new
+training-ship she is getting up; and, being challenged, could I break a
+promise made by you? And only fancy what these clever people have
+arranged, to flatter their own vanity in the name of charity. They have
+taken St. George's Hall, and the distinguished amateurs have chosen the
+play; and the play&mdash;don't laugh, dear Keith&mdash;is 'Romeo and Juliet!' And
+I am to play <i>Juliet</i> to the <i>Romeo</i> of the Honorable Captain Brierley,
+who is a very good-looking man, but who is so solemn and stiff a Romeo
+that I know I shall <a name="Page_247" id="Page_247" />burst out laughing on the dreaded night. He is as
+nervous now at a morning rehearsal as if it were his <i>debut</i> at Drury
+Lane; and he never even takes my hand without an air of apology, as if
+he were saying, 'Really, Miss White, you must pardon me; I am compelled
+by my part to take your hand; otherwise I would die rather than be
+guilty of such a liberty.' And when he addresses me in the
+balcony-scene, he <i>will not</i> look at me; he makes his protestations of
+love to the flies; and when I make my fine speeches to him, he blushes
+if his eyes should by chance meet mine, just as if he had been guilty of
+some awful indiscretion. I know, dear Keith, you don't like to see me
+act, but you might come up for this occasion only. Friar Lawrence is the
+funniest thing I have seen for ages. The nurse, however, Lady Bletherin,
+is not at all bad. I hear there is to be a grand supper afterwards
+somewhere, and I have no doubt I shall be presented to a number of
+ladies who will speak for the first time to an actress and be possessed
+with a wild fear; only, if they have daughters, I suppose they will keep
+the fluttering-hearted young things out of the way, lest I should
+suddenly break out into blue flame, and then disappear through the
+floor. I am quite convinced that Captain Brierley considers me a bold
+person because I look at him when I have to say,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i65">&quot;'O gentle Romeo,<br /></span>
+<span>If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully!'&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Macleod crushed this letter together, and thrust it into his pocket. He
+strode out of the room, and called for Hamish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Send Donald down to the quay,&quot; said he, &quot;and tell them to get the boat
+ready. And he will take down my gun too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Old Hamish, noticing the expression of his master's eyes, went off
+quickly enough, and soon got hold of Donald, the piper-lad.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Donald,&quot; said he, in the Gaelic, &quot;you will run down to the quay as fast
+as your legs can carry you, and you will tell them to get the boat
+ready, and not to lose any time in getting the boat ready, and to have
+the seat dry, and let there be no talking when Sir Keith gets on board.
+And here is the gun too, and the bag; and you will tell them to have no
+talking among themselves this day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When Macleod got down to the small stone pier, the two men were in the
+boat. Johnny Wickes was standing at the door of the storehouse.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_248" id="Page_248" />Would you like to go for a sail, Johnny?&quot; Macleod said abruptly, but
+there was no longer that dangerous light in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, sir,&quot; said the boy, eagerly; for he had long ago lost his dread
+of the sea.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get in, then, and get up to the bow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So Johnny Wickes vent cautiously down the few slippery stone steps, half
+tumbled into the bottom of the great open boat, and then scrambled up to
+the bow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where will you be for going, sir?&quot; said one of the men when Macleod had
+jumped into the stern and taken the tiller.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Anywhere&mdash;right out!&quot; he answered, carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>But it was all very well to say &quot;right out!&quot; when there was a stiff
+breeze blowing right in. Scarcely had the boat put her nose out beyond
+the pier, and while as yet there was but little way on her, when a big
+sea caught her, springing high over her bows and coming rattling down on
+her with a noise as of pistol-shots. The chief victim of this deluge was
+the luckless Johnny Wickes, who tumbled down into the bottom of the
+boat, vehemently blowing the salt-water out of his mouth, and rubbing
+his knuckles into his eyes. Macleod burst out laughing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the good of you as a lookout?&quot; he cried. &quot;Didn't you see the
+water coming?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir,&quot; said Johnny, ruefully laughing, too. But he would not be
+beaten. He scrambled up again to his post, and clung there, despite the
+fierce wind and the clouds of spray.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Keep her close up, sir,&quot; said the man who had the sheet of the huge
+lugsail in both his hands, as he cast a glance out at the darkening sea.</p>
+
+<p>But this great boat, rude and rough and dirty as she appeared, was a
+splendid specimen of her class; and they know how to build such boats up
+about that part of the world. No matter with how staggering a plunge she
+went down into the yawning green gulf, the white foam hissing away from
+her sides; before the next wave, high, awful, threatening, had come down
+on her with a crash as of mountains falling, she had glided buoyantly
+upward, and the heavy blow only made her bows spring the higher, as
+though she would shake herself free, like a bird, from the wet. But it
+was a wild day to be out. So heavy and black was the sky in the west
+that the surface of the sea out to the horizon seemed to be a <a name="Page_249" id="Page_249" />moving
+mass of white foam, with only streaks of green and purple in it. The
+various islands changed every minute as the wild clouds whirled past.
+Already the great cliffs about Dare had grown distant and faint as seen
+through the spray; and here were the rocks of Colonsay, black as jet as
+they reappeared through the successive deluges of white foam; and far
+over there, a still gloomier mass against the gloomy sky told where the
+huge Atlantic breakers were rolling in their awful thunder into the
+Staffa caves.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would keep her away a bit,&quot; said the sailor next Macleod. He did not
+like the look of the heavy breakers that were crashing on to the
+Colonsay rocks.</p>
+
+<p>Macleod, with his teeth set hard against the wind, was not thinking of
+the Colonsay rocks more than was necessary to give them a respectful
+berth.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Were you ever in a theatre, Duncan?&quot; he said, or rather bawled, to the
+brown-visaged and black-haired young fellow who had now got the sheet of
+the lugsail under his foot as well as in the firm grip of his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, Sir Keith,&quot; said he, as he shook the salt-water away from his
+short beard. &quot;It was at Greenock. I will be at the theatre, and more
+than three times or two times.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How would you like to have a parcel of actors and actresses with us
+now?&quot; he said, with a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Deed, I would not like it at all,&quot; said Duncan, seriously; and he
+twisted the sheet of the sail twice round his right wrist, so that his
+relieved left hand could convey a bit of wet tobacco to his mouth. &quot;The
+women they would chump apout, and then you do not know what will happen
+at all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A little bit away yet, sir!&quot; cried out the other sailor, who was
+looking out to windward, with his head between the gunwale and the sail.
+&quot;There is a bad rock off the point.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, it is half a mile north of our course as we are now going!&quot;
+Macleod said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, half a mile!&quot; the man said to himself; &quot;but I do not like half
+miles, and half miles, and half miles on a day like this!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so they went plunging and staggering and bounding onward, with the
+roar of the water all around them, and the foam at her bows, as it
+sprung high into the air, showing quite white against the black sky
+ahead. The younger lad, Duncan, was clearly of opinion that his master
+was running too near the shores of Colonsay; but he would say no more,
+for he knew that Macleod had a better knowledge of <a name="Page_250" id="Page_250" />the currents and
+rocks of this wild coast than any man on the mainland of Mull. John
+Cameron, forward, kept his head down to the gunwale, his eyes looking
+far over that howling waste of sea; Duncan, his younger brother, had his
+gaze fixed mostly on the brown breadth of the sail, hammered at by the
+gusts of wind; while as for the boy at the bow, that enterprising youth
+had got a rope's end, and was endeavoring to strike at the crest of each
+huge wave as it came ploughing along in its resistless strength.</p>
+
+<p>But at one moment the boat gave a heavier lurch than usual, and the
+succeeding wave struck her badly. In the great rush of water that then
+ran by her side, Macleod's startled eye seemed to catch a glimpse of
+something red, something blazing and burning red in the waste of green,
+and almost the same glance showed him there was no boy at the bow!
+Instantly, with just one cry to arrest the attention of the men, he had
+slipped over the side of the boat just as an otter slips off a rock. The
+two men were bewildered but for a second. One sprang to the halyards,
+and down came the great lugsail; the other got out one of the great
+oars, and the mighty blade of it fell into the bulk of the next wave as
+if he would with one sweep tear her head round. Like two mad men the men
+pulled; and the wind was with them, and the tide also, but,
+nevertheless, when they caught sight, just for a moment, of some object
+behind them, that was a terrible way away. Yet there was no time, they
+thought, or seemed to think, to hoist the sail again, and the small
+dingy attached to the boat would have been swamped in a second; and so
+there was nothing for it but the deadly struggle with those immense
+blades against the heavy resisting mass of the boat. John Cameron looked
+round again; then, with an oath, he pulled his oar across the boat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Up with the sail, lad!&quot; he shouted; and again he sprang to the
+halyards.</p>
+
+<p>The seconds, few as they were, that were necessary to this operation
+seemed ages; but no sooner had the wind got a purchase on the breadth of
+the sail, than the boat flew through the water, for she was new running
+free.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He has got him! I can see the two!&quot; shouted the elder Cameron.</p>
+
+<p>And as for the younger? At this mad speed the boat would be close to
+Macleod in another second or two; but in that brief space of time the
+younger Cameron had flung his <a name="Page_251" id="Page_251" />clothes off, and stood there stark-naked
+in the cutting March wind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is foolishness!&quot; his brother cried in the Gaelic. &quot;You will have
+to take an oar!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will not take an oar!&quot; the other cried, with both hands ready to let
+go the halyards. &quot;And if it is foolishness, this is the foolishness of
+it; I will not let you or any man say that Sir Keith Macleod was in the
+water, and Duncan Cameron went home with a dry skin!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Duncan Cameron was as good as his word; for as the boat went
+plunging forward to the neighborhood in which they occasionally saw the
+head of Macleod appear on the side of a wave and then disappear again as
+soon as the wave broke, and as soon as the lugsail had been rattled
+down, he sprung clear from the side of the boat. For a second or two,
+John Cameron, left by himself in the boat, could not see any one of the
+three; but at last he saw the black head of his brother, and then some
+few yards beyond, just as a wave happened to roll by, he saw his master
+and the boy. The boat had almost enough way on her to carry her the
+length; he had but to pull at the huge oar to bring her head round a
+bit. And he pulled, madly and blindly, until he was startled by a cry
+close by. He sprang to the side of the boat. There was his brother
+drifting by, holding the boy with one arm. John Cameron rushed to the
+stern to fling a rope, but Duncan Cameron had been drifting by with a
+purpose; for as soon as he got clear of the bigger boat, he struck for
+the rope of the dingy, and got hold of that, and was safe. And here was
+the master, too, clinging to the side of the dingy so as to recover his
+breath, but not attempting to board the cockleshell in these plunging
+waters. There were tears running down John Cameron's rugged face as he
+drew the three up and over the side of the big boat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if you was drowned, Sir Keith, it was not me would have carried the
+story to Castle Dare. I would just as soon have been drowned too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you any whiskey, John?&quot; Macleod said, pushing the hair out of his
+eyes, and trying to get his mustache out of his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>In ordinary circumstances John Cameron would have told a lie; but on
+this occasion he hurriedly bade the still undressed Duncan to take the
+tiller, and he went forward to a locker at the bows, which was usually
+kept for bait, and from thence he got a black bottle which was half
+full.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_252" id="Page_252" />Now, Johnny Wickes,&quot; Macleod said to the boy, who was quite blinded
+and bewildered, but otherwise apparently not much the worse, &quot;swallow a
+mouthful of this, you young rascal; and if I catch you imitating a
+dolphin again, it is a rope's end you'll have, and not good Highland
+whiskey.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Johnny Wickes did not understand; but he swallowed the whiskey, and then
+he began to look about him a bit.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will I put my clothes round him, Sir Keith?&quot; Duncan Cameron said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And go home that way to Dare?&quot; Macleod said, with a loud laugh. &quot;Get on
+your clothes, Duncan, lad, and get up the sail again; and we will see if
+there is a dram left for us in the bottle. John Cameron, confound you!
+where are you putting her head to?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>John Cameron, who had again taken the tiller, seemed as one demented. He
+was talking to himself rapidly in Gaelic, and his brows were frowning;
+and he did not seem to notice that he was putting the head of the boat,
+which had now some little way on her by reason of the wind and tide,
+though she had no sail up, a good deal too near the southernmost point
+of Colonsay.</p>
+
+<p>Roused from this angry reverie, he shifted her course a bit; and then,
+when his brother had got his clothes on, he helped to hoist the sail,
+and again they flew onward and shoreward, along with the waves that
+seemed to be racing them; but all the same he kept grumbling and
+growling to himself in Gaelic. Meanwhile Macleod had got a huge
+tarpaulin overcoat and wrapped Johnny Wickes in it, and put him in the
+bottom of the boat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will soon be warm enough in that, Master Wickes,&quot; said he; &quot;the
+chances are you will come out boiled red, like a lobster. And I would
+strongly advise you, if we can slip into the house and get dry clothes
+on, not to say a word of your escapade to Hamish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, Sir Keith,&quot; said John Cameron, eagerly, in his native tongue, &quot;that
+is what I will be saying to myself. If the story is told&mdash;and Hamish
+will hear that you will nearly drown yourself&mdash;what is it he will not do
+to that boy? It is for killing him he will be.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not as bad as that, John,&quot; Macleod said, good-naturedly. &quot;Come, there
+is a glass for each of us; and you may give me the tiller now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will take no whiskey, Sir Keith, with thanks to you,&quot; said John
+Cameron; &quot;I was not in the water.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_253" id="Page_253" />There is plenty for all, man!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was not in the water.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tell you there is plenty for all of us!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is the more for you, Sir Keith,&quot; said he, stubbornly.</p>
+
+<p>And then, as great good luck would have it, it was found, when they got
+ashore, that Hamish had gone away as far as Salen on business of some
+sort or other; and the story told by the two Camerons was that Johnny
+Wickes, whose clothes were sent into the kitchen to be dried, and who
+was himself put to bed, had fallen into the water down by the quay; and
+nothing at all was said about Keith Macleod having had to leap into the
+sea off the coast of Colonsay. Macleod got into Castle Dare by a back
+way, and changed his clothes in his own room. Then he went away upstairs
+to the small chamber in which Johnny Wickes lay in bed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have had the soup, then? You look pretty comfortable.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir,&quot; said the boy, whose face was now flushed red with the
+reaction after the cold. &quot;I beg your pardon, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For tumbling into the water?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, look here, Master Wickes; you chose a good time. If I had had
+trousers on, and waterproof leggings over them, do you know where you
+would be at the present moment? You would be having an interesting
+conversation with a number of lobsters at the bottom of the sea off the
+Colonsay shores. And so you thought because I had my kilt on, that I
+could fish you out of the water?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, sir,&quot; said Johnny Wickes. &quot;I beg your pardon, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you will remember that it was owing to the Highland kilt that you
+were picked out of the water, and that it was Highland whiskey put life
+into your blood again; you will remember that well. And if any strange
+lady should come here from England and ask you how you like the
+Highlands, you will not forget?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you can have Oscar up here in the room with you, if you like, until
+they let you out of bed again; or you can have Donald to play the pipes
+to you until dinner-time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Master Wickes chose the less heroic remedy; but, indeed, the
+companionship of Oscar was not needed; for Janet Macleod&mdash;who might just
+as well have tried to keep her heart <a name="Page_254" id="Page_254" />from beating as to keep herself
+away from any one who was ill or supposed to be ill&mdash;herself came up to
+this little room, and was very attentive to Master Wickes, not because
+he was suffering very much from the effects of his ducking, but because
+he was a child, and alone, and a stranger. And to her Johnny Wickes told
+the whole story, despite the warnings he had received that, if Hamish
+came to learn of the peril in which Macleod had been placed by the
+incaution of the English lad, the latter would have had a bad time of it
+at Castle Dare. Then Janet hastened away again, and, finding her
+cousin's bedroom empty, entered; and there discovered that he had, with
+customary recklessness, hung up his wet clothes in his wardrobe. She had
+them at once conveyed away to the lower regions, and she went, with
+earnest remonstrances, to her cousin, and would have him drink some hot
+whiskey and water; and when Hamish arrived, went straight to him too,
+and told him the story in such a way that he said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, ay, it wass the poor little lad! And he will mek a good sailor yet.
+And it was not much dancher for him when Sir Keith wass in the boat; for
+there is no one in the whole of the islands will sweem in the water as
+he can sweem; and it is like a fish in the water that he is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That was about the only incident of note, and little was made of it,
+that disturbed the monotony of life at Castle Dare at this time. But by
+and by, as the days passed, and as eager eyes looked abroad, signs
+showed that the beautiful summer-time was drawing near. The deep blue
+came into the skies and the seas again; the yellow mornings broke
+earlier. Far into the evening they could still make out the Dutchman's
+Cap, and Lunga, and the low-lying Coll and Tiree, amidst the glow at the
+horizon after the blood-red sunset had gone down. The white stars of the
+saxifrage appeared in the woods; the white daisies were in the grass. As
+you walked along the lower slopes of Ben-an-Sloich, the grouse that rose
+were in pairs. What a fresh green this was that shimmered over the young
+larches! He sent her a basket of the first trout he caught in the loch.</p>
+
+<p>The wonderful glad time came nearer and nearer. And every clear and
+beautiful day that shone over the white sands of Iona and the green
+shores of Ulva, with the blue seas all breaking joyfully along the
+rocks, was but a day thrown away that should have been reserved for her.
+And whether she came by the <i>Dunara</i> from Greenock, or by the <i>Pioneer</i>
+from <a name="Page_255" id="Page_255" />Oban, would they hang the vessel in white roses in her honor, and
+have velvet carpetings on the gangways for the dainty small feet to
+tread on? and would the bountiful heavens grant but one shining blue day
+for her first glimpse of the far and lonely Castle Dare? Janet, the
+kind-hearted, was busy from morning till night; she herself would place
+the scant flowers that could be got in the guests' rooms. The steward of
+the <i>Pioneer</i> had undertaken to bring any number of things from Oban;
+Donald, the piper-lad, had a brand-new suit of tartan, and was
+determined that, short of the very cracking of his lungs, the English
+lady would have a good salute played for her that day. The <i>Umpire</i>, all
+smartened up now, had been put in a safe anchorage in Loch-na-Keal; the
+men wore their new jerseys; the long gig, painted white, with a band of
+gold, was brought along to Dare, so that it might, if the weather were
+favorable, go out to bring the Fair Stranger to her Highland home. And
+then the heart of her lover cried, &quot;<i>O winds and seas, if only for one
+day, be gentle now! so that her first thoughts of us shall be all of
+peace and loveliness, and of a glad welcome, and the delight of clear
+summer days!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII" />CHAPTER XXXII.</h2>
+
+<h3>HAMISH.</h3>
+
+
+<p>And now&mdash;look! The sky is as blue as the heart of a sapphire, and the
+sea would be as blue too, only for the glad white of the rippling waves.
+And the wind is as soft as the winnowing of a sea-gull's wing; and
+green, green, are the laughing shores of Ulva. The bride is coming. All
+around the coast the people are on the alert&mdash;Donald in his new finery;
+Hamish half frantic with excitement; the crew of the <i>Umpire</i> down at
+the quay; and the scarlet flag fluttering from the top of the white
+pole. And behold!&mdash;as the cry goes along that the steamer is in sight,
+what is this strange thing? She comes clear out from the Sound of Iona;
+but who has ever seen before that long line running from her stem to her
+top-mast and down again to her stern?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Keith!&quot; Janet Macleod cried, with sudden tears <a name="Page_256" id="Page_256" />starting to her
+eyes, &quot;do you know what Captain Macallum has done for you? The steamer
+has got all her flags out!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod flushed red.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Janet,&quot; said he, &quot;I wrote to Captain Macullum, and I asked him to
+be so good as to pay them some little attention; but who was to know
+that he would do that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And a very proper thing, too,&quot; said Major Stuart, who was standing hard
+by. &quot;A very pretty compliment to strangers; and you know you have not
+many visitors coming to Castle Dare.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The major spoke in a matter of fact way. Why should not the steamer show
+her bunting in honor of Macleod's guests! But all the same the gallant
+soldier, as he stood and watched the steamer coming along, became a
+little bit excited too; and he whistled to himself, and tapped his toe
+on the ground. It was a fine air he was whistling. It was all about
+breast-knots!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Into the boat with you now, lads!&quot; Macleod called out; and first of all
+to go down to the steps was Donald; and the silver and cairngorms on his
+pipes were burnished so that they shone like diamonds in the sunlight;
+and he wore his cap so far on one side that nobody could understand how
+it did not fall off. Macleod was alone in the stern. Away the white boat
+went through the blue waves.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Put your strength into it now,&quot; said he, in the Gaelic, &quot;and show them
+how the Mull lads can row!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then again&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Steady now! Well rowed all!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And here are all the people crowding to one side of the steamer to see
+the strangers off; and the captain is on the bridge; and Sandy is at the
+open gangway: and, at the top of the iron steps, there is only one
+Macleod sees&mdash;all in white and blue&mdash;and he has caught her eyes&mdash;at
+last! at last!</p>
+
+<p>He seized the rope and sprang up the iron ladder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Welcome to you, sweetheart!&quot; said he, in a low voice, and his trembling
+hand grasped hers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you, Keith?&quot; said she. &quot;Must we go down these steps?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had no time to wonder over the coldness&mdash;the petulance almost&mdash;of her
+manner: for he had to get both father and daughter safely conducted into
+the stern of the boat; and their luggage had to be got in; and he had to
+say a word or two to the steward; and finally he had to hand down <a name="Page_257" id="Page_257" />some
+loaves of bread to the man next him, who placed them in the bottom of
+the boat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The commissariat arrangements are primitive,&quot; said Mr. White, in an
+undertone, to his daughter; but she made no answer to his words or his
+smile. But, indeed, even if Macleod had overheard, he would have taken
+no shame to himself that he had secured a supply of white bread for his
+guests. Those who had gone yachting with Macleod&mdash;Major Stuart, for
+example, or Norman Ogilvie&mdash;had soon learned not to despise their host's
+highly practical acquaintance with tinned meats, pickles, condensed
+milk, and suchlike things. Who was it had proposed to erect a monument
+to him for his discovery of the effect of introducing a leaf of lettuce
+steeped in vinegar between the folds of a sandwich?</p>
+
+<p>Then he jumped down into the boat again; and the great steamer steamed
+away; and the men struck their oars into the water.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We will soon take you ashore now,&quot; said he, with a glad light on his
+face; but so excited was he that he could scarcely get the tiller-ropes
+right; and certainly he knew not what he was saying. And as for her&mdash;why
+was she so silent after the long separation? Had she no word at all for
+the lover who had so hungered for her coming?</p>
+
+<p>And then Donald, perched high at the bow, broke away into his wild
+welcome of her; and there was a sound now louder than the calling of the
+sea birds and the rushing of the seas. And if the English lady knew that
+this proud and shrill strain had been composed in honor of her, would it
+not bring some color of pleasure to the pale face? So thought Donald at
+least; and he had his eyes fixed on her as he played as he had never
+played before that day. And if she did not know the cunning modulations
+and the clever fingering, Macleod knew them, and the men knew them; and
+after they got ashore they would say to him,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Donald, that was a good pibroch you played for the English lady.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But what was the English lady's thanks? Donald had not played over sixty
+seconds when she turned to Macleod and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Keith I wish you would stop him. I have a headache.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so Macleod called out at once, in the lad's native tongue. But
+Donald could not believe this thing, though he had seen the strange lady
+turn to Sir Keith. And he would <a name="Page_258" id="Page_258" />have continued had not one of the men
+turned to him and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Donald, do you not hear? Put down the pipes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For an instant the lad looked dumbfounded; then he slowly took down the
+pipes from his shoulder and put them beside him, and then he turned his
+face to the bow, so that no one should see the tears of wounded pride
+that had sprung to his eyes. And Donald said no word to any one till
+they got ashore; and he went away by himself to Castle Dare, with his
+head bent down and his pipes under his arm; and when he was met at the
+door by Hamish, who angrily demanded why he was not down at the quay
+with his pipes, he only said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no need of me or my pipes any more at Dare; and it is
+somewhere else that I will now go with my pipes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But meanwhile Macleod was greatly concerned to find his sweetheart so
+cold and distant; and it was all in vain that he pointed out to her the
+beauties of this summer day&mdash;that he showed her the various islands he
+had often talked about, and called her attention to the skarts sitting
+on the Erisgeir rocks, and asked her&mdash;seeing that she sometimes painted
+a little in water-color&mdash;whether she noticed the peculiar, clear,
+intense, and luminous blue of the shadows in the great cliffs which they
+were approaching. Surely no day could have been more auspicious for her
+coming to Dare?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The sea did not make you ill?&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no,&quot; she answered; and that was true enough, though it had produced
+in her agonizing fears of becoming ill which had somewhat ruffled her
+temper. And besides, she had a headache. And then she had a nervous fear
+of small boats.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a very small boat to be out in the open sea,&quot; she remarked,
+looking at the long and shapely gig that was cleaving the summer waves.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not on a day like this, surely,&quot; said he, laughing. &quot;But we will make a
+good sailor of you before you leave Dare, and you will think yourself
+safer in a boat like this than in a big steamer. Do you know that the
+steamer you came in, big as it is, draws only five feet of water?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>If he had told her that the steamer drew five tons of coal she could
+just as well have understood him. Indeed, she was not paying much
+attention to him. She had an eye for the biggest of the waves that were
+running by the side of the white boat.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259" />But she plucked up her spirits somewhat on getting ashore; and she made
+the prettiest of little courtesies to Lady Macleod; and she shook hands
+with Major Stuart, and gave him a charming smile; and she shook hands
+with Janet, too, whom she regarded with a quick scrutiny. So this was
+the cousin that Keith Macleod was continually praising?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Miss White has a headache, mother,&quot; Macleod said, eager to account
+beforehand for any possible constraint in her manner. &quot;Shall we send for
+the pony?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no,&quot; Miss White said, looking up at the bare walls of Dare. &quot;I shall
+be very glad to have a short walk now&mdash;unless you, papa, would like to
+ride?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly not&mdash;certainly not,&quot; said Mr. White, who had been making a
+series of formal remarks to Lady Macleod about his impressions of the
+scenery of Scotland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We will get you a cup of tea,&quot; said Janet Macleod, gently, to the
+new-comer, &quot;and you will lie down for a little time, and I hope the
+sound of the waterfall will not disturb you. It is a long way you have
+come: and you will be very tired, I am sure.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, it is a pretty long way,&quot; she said; but she wished this
+over-friendly woman would not treat her as if she were a spoiled child.
+And no doubt they thought, because she was English, she could not walk
+up to the farther end of that fir-wood?</p>
+
+<p>So they all set out for Castle Dare; and Macleod was now walking&mdash;as
+many a time he had dreamed of his walking&mdash;with his beautiful
+sweetheart; and there were the very ferns that he thought she would
+admire; and here the very point in the fir-wood where he would stop her
+and ask her to look out on the blue sea, with Inch Kenneth, and Ulva,
+and Staffa, all lying in the sunlight, and the razor-fish of land&mdash;Coll
+and Tiree&mdash;at the horizon. But instead of being proud and glad, he was
+almost afraid. He was so anxious that everything should please her that
+he dared scarce bid her look at anything. He had himself superintended
+the mending of the steep path; but even now the recent rains had left
+some puddles. Would she not consider the moist, warm odors of this
+larch-wood as too oppressive?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is that?&quot; she said, suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>There was a sound far below them of the striking of oars in the water,
+and another sound of one or two men monotonously chanting a rude sort of
+chorus.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are taking the gig on to the yacht,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_260" id="Page_260" />But what are they singing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, that is <i>Fhir a bhata</i>&quot; said he; &quot;it is the common boat-song. It
+means, <i>Good-by to you, boatman, a hundred times, wherever you may be
+going.</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is very striking, very effective, to hear singing and not see the
+people,&quot; she said. &quot;It is the very prettiest introduction to a scene; I
+wonder it is not oftener used. Do you think they could write me down the
+words and music of that song?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no, I think not,&quot; said he, with a nervous laugh. &quot;But you will find
+something like it, no doubt, in your book.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So they passed on through the plantation; and at last they came to an
+open glade; and here was a deep chasm spanned by a curious old bridge of
+stone almost hidden by ivy; and there was a brawling stream dashing down
+over the rocks and flinging spray all over the briers, and queen of the
+meadow, and foxgloves on either bank.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is very pretty,&quot; said she; and then he was eager to tell her that
+this little glen was even more beautiful when the rowan-trees showed
+their rich clusters of scarlet berries.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Those bushes there, you mean,&quot; said she. &quot;The mountain-ash?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah,&quot; she said, &quot;I never see those scarlet berries without wishing I was
+a dark woman. If my hair were black, I would wear nothing else in it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>By this time they had climbed well up the cliff; and presently they came
+on the open plateau on which stood Castle Dare, with its gaunt walls and
+its rambling courtyards, and its stretch of damp lawn with a few
+fuchsia-bushes and orange-lilies, that did not give a very ornamental
+look to the place.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We have had heavy rains of late,&quot; he said, hastily; he hoped the house
+and its surroundings did not look too dismal.</p>
+
+<p>And when they went inside and passed through the sombre dining-hall,
+with its huge fireplace, and its dark weapons, and its few portraits
+dimly visible in the dusk, he said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is very gloomy in the daytime; but it is more cheerful at night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And when they reached the small drawing-room he was anxious to draw her
+attention away from the antiquated furniture and the nondescript
+decoration by taking her to the window and showing her the great breadth
+of the summer sea, with the far islands, and the brown-sailed boat of
+<a name="Page_261" id="Page_261" />the Gometra men coming back from Staffa. But presently in came Janet,
+and would take the fair stranger away to her room; and was as attentive
+to her as if the one were a great princess, and the other a meek
+serving-woman. And by and by Macleod, having seen his other guest
+provided for, went into the library and shut himself in, and sat down,
+in a sort of stupor. He could almost have imagined that the whole
+business of the morning was a dream; so strange did it seem to him that
+Gertrude White should be living and breathing under the same roof with
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>Nature herself seemed to have conspired with Macleod to welcome and
+charm this fair guest. He had often spoken to her of the sunsets that
+shone over the Western seas; and he had wondered whether, during her
+stay in the North, she would see some strange sight that would remain
+forever a blaze of color in her memory. And now on this very first
+evening there was a spectacle seen from the high windows of Dare that
+filled her with astonishment, and caused her to send quickly for her
+father, who was burrowing among the old armor. The sun had just gone
+down. The western sky was of the color of a soda-water bottle become
+glorified; and in this vast breadth of shining clear green lay one long
+island of cloud&mdash;a pure scarlet. Then the sky overhead and the sea far
+below them were both of a soft roseate purple; and Fladda and Staffa and
+Lunga, out at the horizon, were almost black against that flood of green
+light. When he asked her if she had brought her water-colors with her,
+smiled. She was not likely to attempt to put anything like that down on
+paper.</p>
+
+<p>Then they adjourned to the big hall, which was now lit up with candles;
+and Major Stuart had remained to dinner: and the gallant soldier, glad
+to have a merry evening away from his sighing wife, did his best to
+promote the cheerfulness of the party. Moreover, Miss White had got rid
+of her headache, and showed a greater brightness of face; so that both
+the old lady at the head of the table and her niece Janet had to confess
+to themselves that this English girl who was like to tear Keith Macleod
+away from them was very pretty, and had an amiable look, and was soft
+and fine and delicate in her manners and speech. The charming simplicity
+of her costume, too: had anybody ever seen a dress more beautiful with
+less pretence of attracting notice? Her very hands&mdash;they seemed objects
+fitted to be placed on a cushion of blue velvet under a glass shade, so
+white and <a name="Page_262" id="Page_262" />small and perfectly formed were they. That was what the
+kindly-hearted Janet thought. She did not ask herself how these hands
+would answer if called upon to help&mdash;amidst the grime and smoke of a
+shepherd's hut&mdash;the shepherd's wife to patch together a pair of homespun
+trousers for the sailor son coming back from the sea.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now,&quot; said Keith Macleod to his fair neighbor, when Hamish had put
+the claret and the whiskey on the table, &quot;since your head is well now,
+would you like to hear the pipes? It is an old custom of the house. My
+mother would think it strange to have it omitted,&quot; he added, in a lower
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, if it is a custom of the house,&quot; she said, coldly&mdash;for she thought
+it was inconsiderate of him to risk bringing back her headache&mdash;&quot;I have
+no objection whatever.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so he turned to Hamish and said something in the Gaelic. Hamish
+replied in English, and loud enough for Miss White to hear.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is no pibroch there will be this night, for Donald is away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Away?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, just that. When he wass come back from the boat, he will say to me,
+'Hamish, it is no more of me or my pipes they want at Dare, and I am
+going away; and they can get some one else to play the pipes.' And I
+wass saying to him then, 'Donald, do not be a foolish lad; and if the
+English lady will not want the pibroch you made for her, perhaps at
+another time she will want it.' And now, Sir Keith, it is Maggie
+MacFarlane; she wass coming up from Loch-na-Keal this afternoon, and who
+was it she will meet but our Donald, and he wass saying to her, 'It is
+to Tobermory now that I am going, Maggie; and I will try to get a ship
+there; for it is no more of me or my pipes they will want at Dare.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This was Hamish's story; and the keen hawk-like eye of him was fixed on
+the English lady's face all the time he spoke in his struggling and
+halting fashion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Confound the young rascal!&quot; Macleod said, with his face grown red. &quot;I
+suppose I shall have to send a messenger to Tobermory and apologize to
+him for interrupting him to-day.&quot; And then he turned to Miss White.
+&quot;They are like a set of children,&quot; he said, &quot;with their pride and
+petulance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This is all that needs be said about the manner of Miss White's coming
+to Dare, besides these two circumstances: <a name="Page_263" id="Page_263" />First of all, whether it was
+that Macleod was too flurried, and Janet too busy, and Lady Macleod too
+indifferent to attend to such trifles, the fact remains that no one, on
+Miss White's entering the house, had thought of presenting her with a
+piece of white heather, which, as every one knows, gives good health and
+good fortune and a long life to your friend. Again, Hamish seemed to
+have acquired a serious prejudice against her from the very outset. That
+night, when Castle Dare was asleep, and the old dame Christina and her
+husband were seated by themselves in the servants' room, and Hamish was
+having his last pipe, and both were talking over the great events of the
+day, Christina said, in her native tongue,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what do you think now of the English lady, Hamish?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hamish answered with an old and sinister saying:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>A fool would he be that would burn his harp to warm her.</i>&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII" />CHAPTER XXXIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE GRAVE OF MACLEOD OF MACLEOD.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The monotonous sound of the waterfall, so far from disturbing the new
+guest of Castle Dare, only soothed her to rest; and after the various
+fatigues, if not the emotions, of the day, she slept well. But in the
+very midst of the night she was startled by some loud commotion that
+seemed to prevail both within and without the house; and when she was
+fully awakened it appeared to her that the whole earth was being shaken
+to pieces in the storm. The wind howled in the chimneys; the rain dashed
+on the window-panes with a rattle as of musketry; far below she could
+hear the awful booming of the Atlantic breakers. The gusts that drove
+against the high house seemed ready to tear it from its foothold of rock
+and whirl it inland; or was it the sea itself that was rising in its
+thunderous power to sweep away this bauble from the face of the mighty
+cliffs? And then the wild and desolate morning that followed! Through
+the bewilderment of the running water on the panes she looked abroad <a name="Page_264" id="Page_264" />on
+the tempest-riven sea&mdash;a slate-colored waste of hurrying waves with
+wind-swept streaks of foam on them&mdash;and on the lowering and
+ever-changing clouds. The fuchsia-bushes on the lawn tossed and bent
+before the wind; the few orange-lilies, wet as they were, burned like
+fire in this world of cold greens and grays. And then, as she stood and
+gazed, she made out the only sign of life that was visible. There was a
+cornfield below the larch-plantation; and though the corn was all laid
+flat by the wet and the wind, a cow and her calf that had strayed into
+the field seemed to have no difficulty in finding a rich, moist
+breakfast. Then a small girl appeared, vainly trying with one hand to
+keep her kerchief on her head, while with the other she threw stones at
+the marauders. By and by even these disappeared; and there was nothing
+visible outside but that hurrying and desolate sea, and the wet,
+bedraggled, comfortless shore. She turned away with a shudder.</p>
+
+<p>All that day Keith Macleod was in despair. As for himself, he would have
+had sufficient joy in the mere consciousness of the presence of this
+beautiful creature. His eyes followed her with a constant delight;
+whether she took up a book, or examined the cunning spring of a
+sixteenth-century dagger, or turned to the dripping panes. He would have
+been content even to sit and listen to Mr. White sententiously lecturing
+Lady Macleod about the Renaissance, knowing that from time to time those
+beautiful, tender eyes would meet his. But what would she think of it?
+Would she consider this the normal condition of life in the
+Highlands&mdash;this being boxed up in an old-fashioned room, with doors and
+windows firmly closed against the wind and the wet, with a number of
+people trying to keep up some sort of social intercourse, and not very
+well succeeding? She had looked at the portraits in the
+dining-hall&mdash;looming darkly from their black backgrounds, though two or
+three were in resplendent uniforms; she had examined all the trophies of
+the chase&mdash;skins, horns, and what not&mdash;in the outer corridor; she had
+opened the piano, and almost started back from the discords produced by
+the feebly jangling old keys.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You do not cultivate music much,&quot; she had said to Janet Macleod, with a
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; answered Janet, seriously. &quot;We have little use for music
+here&mdash;except to sing to a child now and again, and you know you do not
+want a piano for that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then the return to the cold window, with the constant <a name="Page_265" id="Page_265" />rain and the
+beating of the white surge on the black rocks. The imprisonment became
+torture&mdash;became maddening. What if he were suddenly to murder this old
+man and stop forever his insufferable prosing about Bernada Siena and
+Andrea Mantegna? It seemed so strange to hear him talk of the unearthly
+calm of Raphael's &quot;St. Michael&quot;&mdash;of the beautiful, still landscape of
+it, and the mysterious joy on the face of the angel&mdash;and to listen at
+the same moment to the wild roar of the Atlantic around the rocks of
+Mull. If Macleod had been alone with the talker, he might have gone to
+sleep. It was like the tolling of a bell. &quot;The artist passes away, but
+he leaves his soul behind.... We can judge by his work of the joy he
+must have experienced in creation, of the splendid dreams that have
+visited him, of the triumph of completion.... Life without an object&mdash;a
+pursuit demanding the sacrifice of our constant care&mdash;what is it? The
+existence of a pig is nobler&mdash;a pig is of some use.... We are
+independent of weather in a great city; we do not need to care for the
+seasons; you take a hansom and drive to the National Gallery, and there
+all at once you find yourself in the soft Italian climate, with the most
+beautiful women and great heroes of chivalry all around you, and with
+those quaint and loving presentations of sacred stories that tell of a
+time when art was proud to be the meek handmaid of religion. Oh, my dear
+Lady Macleod, there is a 'Holy Family' of Giotto's&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So it went on; and Macleod grew sick at heart to think of the impression
+that this funereal day must have had on the mind of his fair stranger.
+But as they sat at dinner that evening, Hamish came in and said a few
+words to his master. Instantly Macleod's face lighted up, and quite a
+new animation came into his manner.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know what Hamish says?&quot; he cried&mdash;&quot;that the night is quite fine?
+And Hamish has heard our talking of seeing the cathedral at Iona by
+moonlight, and he says the moon will be up by ten. And what do you say
+to running over now? You know we cannot take you in the yacht, for there
+is no good anchorage at Iona; but we can take you in a very good and
+safe boat; and it will be an adventure to go out in the night-time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was an adventure that neither Mr. White nor his daughter seemed too
+eager to undertake; but the urgent vehemence of the young man&mdash;who had
+discovered that it was a fine and clear starlit night&mdash;soon overcame
+their doubts <a name="Page_266" id="Page_266" />and there was a general hurry of preparation. The
+desolation of the day, he eagerly thought, would be forgotten in the
+romance of this night excursion. And surely she would be charmed by the
+beauty of the starlit sky, and the loneliness of the voyage, and their
+wandering over the ruins in the solemn moonlight?</p>
+
+<p>Thick boots and waterproofs&mdash;these were his peremptory instructions. And
+then he led the way down the slippery path, and he had a tight hold of
+her arm; and if he talked to her in a low voice so that none should
+overhear, it is the way of lovers under the silence of the stars. They
+reached the pier, and the wet stone steps; and here, despite the stars,
+it was so dark that perforce she had to permit him to lift her off the
+lowest step and place her in security in what seemed to her a great hole
+of some kind or other. She knew, however, that she was in a boat, for
+there was a swaying hither and thither even in this sheltered corner.
+She saw other figures arrive&mdash;black between her and the sky&mdash;and she
+heard her father's voice above. Then he, too, got into the boat; the two
+men forward hauled up the huge lugsail; and presently there was a
+rippling line of sparkling white stars on each side of the boat, burning
+for a second or two on the surface of the black water.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know who is responsible for this madness,&quot; Mr. White said&mdash;and
+the voice from inside the great waterproof coat sounded as if it meant
+to be jocular&mdash;&quot;but really, Gerty, to be on the open Atlantic in the
+middle of the night, in an open boat&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear sir,&quot; Macleod said, laughing, &quot;you are as safe as if you were
+in bed. But I am responsible in the meantime, for I have the tiller. Oh,
+we shall be over in plenty of time to be clear of the banks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What did you say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; Macleod admitted, &quot;there are some banks, you know, in the Sound
+of Iona; and on a dark night they are a little awkward when the tide is
+low; but I am not going to frighten you&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope we shall have nothing much worse than this,&quot; said Mr. White,
+seriously.</p>
+
+<p>For, indeed, the sea, after the squally morning, was running pretty
+high; and occasionally a cloud of spray came rattling over the bows,
+causing Macleod's guests to pull their waterproofs still more tightly
+round their necks. But what mattered the creaking of the cordage, and
+the plunging of <a name="Page_267" id="Page_267" />the boat, and the rushing of the seas, so long as that
+beautiful clear sky shone overhead?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gertrude,&quot; said he, in a low voice, &quot;do you see the phosphorous-stars
+on the waves? I never saw them burn more brightly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are very beautiful,&quot; said she. &quot;When do we get to land, Keith?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, pretty soon,&quot; said he. &quot;You are not anxious to get to land?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is stormier than I expected.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, this is nothing,&quot; said he. &quot;I thought you would enjoy it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>However, that summer night's sail was like to prove a tougher business
+than Keith Macleod had bargained for. They had been out scarcely twenty
+minutes when Miss White heard the man at the bow call out something,
+which she could not understand, to Macleod. She saw him crane his neck
+forward, as if looking ahead; and she herself, looking in that
+direction, could perceive that from the horizon almost to the zenith the
+stars had become invisible.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It may be a little bit squally,&quot; he said to her, &quot;but we shall soon be
+under the lee of Iona. Perhaps you had better hold on to something.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The advice was not ill-timed; for almost as he spoke the first gust of
+the squall struck the boat, and there was a sound as if everything had
+been torn asunder and sent overboard. Then, as she righted just in time
+to meet the crash of the next wave, it seemed as though the world had
+grown perfectly black around them. The terrified woman seated there
+could no longer make out Macleod's figure; it was impossible to speak
+amidst this roar; it almost seemed to her that she was alone with those
+howling winds and heaving waves&mdash;at night on the open sea. The wind
+rose, and the sea too; she heard the men call out and Macleod answer;
+and all the time the boat was creaking and groaning as she was flung
+high on the mighty waves only to go staggering down into the awful
+troughs behind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Keith!&quot; she cried&mdash;and involuntarily she seized his arm&mdash;&quot;are we in
+danger?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He could not hear what she said; but he understood the mute appeal.
+Quickly disengaging his arm&mdash;for it was the arm that was working the
+tiller&mdash;he called to her,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are all right. If you are afraid, get to the bottom of the boat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268" />But unhappily she did not hear this; for, as he called her, a heavy sea
+struck the bows, sprung high in the air, and then fell over them in a
+deluge which nearly choked her. She understood, though, his throwing
+away her hand. It was the triumph of brute selfishness in the moment of
+danger. They were drowning, and he would not let her come near him! And
+so she shrieked aloud for her father.</p>
+
+<p>Hearing those shrieks, Macleod called to one of the two men, who came
+stumbling along in the dark and got hold of the tiller. There was a
+slight lull in the storm, and he caught her two hands and held her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gertrude, what is the matter? You are perfectly safe, and so is your
+father. For Heaven's sake, keep still! if you get up, you will be
+knocked overboard!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where is papa?&quot; she cried.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am here&mdash;I am all right, Gerty!&quot; was the answer&mdash;which came from the
+bottom of the boat, into which Mr. White had very prudently slipped.</p>
+
+<p>And then, as they got under the lee of the island, they found themselves
+in smoother water, though from time to time squalls came over and
+threatened to flatten the great lugsail right on to the waves.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come now, Gertrude,&quot; said Macleod, &quot;we shall be ashore in a few
+minutes, and you are not frightened of a squall?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had his arm round her, and he held her tight; but she did not answer.
+At last she saw a light&mdash;a small, glimmering orange thing that quivered
+apparently a hundred miles off.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;See!&quot; he said. &quot;We are close by. And it may clear up to-night, after
+all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he shouted to one of the men:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sandy, we will not try the quay the night: we will go into the Martyr's
+Bay.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, ay, sir!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was about a quarter of an hour after that&mdash;almost benumbed with
+fear&mdash;she discovered that the boat was in smooth water; and then there
+was a loud clatter of the sail coming down; and she heard the two
+sailors calling to each other, and one of them seemed to have got
+overboard. There was absolutely nothing visible&mdash;not even a distant
+light; but it was raining heavily. Then she knew that Macleod had moved
+away from her; and she thought she heard a splash in the water; and then
+a voice beside her said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_269" id="Page_269" />Gertrude, will you not get up? You must let me carry you ashore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And she found herself in his arms&mdash;carried as lightly as though she had
+been a young lamb or a fawn from the hills; but she knew from the slow
+way of his walking that he was going through the sea. Then he set her on
+the shore.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Take my hand,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But where is papa?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just behind us,&quot; said he, &quot;on Sandy's shoulders. Sandy will bring him
+along. Come, darling!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But where are we going?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is a little inn near the Cathedral. And perhaps it will clear up
+to-night; and we will have a fine sail back again to Dare.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She shuddered. Not for ten thousand worlds would she pass through once
+more that seething pit of howling sounds and raging seas.</p>
+
+<p>He held her arm firmly; and she stumbled along through the darkness, not
+knowing whether she was walking through sea-weed, or pools of water, or
+wet corn. And at last they came to a door; and the door was opened; and
+there was a blaze of orange light; and they entered&mdash;all dripping and
+unrecognizable&mdash;the warm, snug little place, to the astonishment of a
+handsome young lady who proved to be their hostess.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear me, Sir Keith,&quot; said she at length, &quot;is it you indeed! And you
+will not be going back to Dare to-night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In fact, when Mr. White arrived, it was soon made evident that going
+back to Dare that night was out of the question; for somehow the old
+gentleman, despite his waterproofs, had managed to get soaked through;
+and he was determined to go to bed at once, so as to have his clothes
+dried. And so the hospitalities of the little inn were requisitioned to
+the utmost; and as there was no whiskey to be had, they had to content
+themselves with hot tea; and then they all retired to rest for the
+night, convinced that the moonlight visitation of the ruins had to be
+postponed.</p>
+
+<p>But next day&mdash;such are the rapid changes in the Highlands&mdash;broke blue
+and fair and shining; and Miss Gertrude White was amazed to find that
+the awful Sound she had come along on the previous night was now
+brilliant in the most beautiful colors&mdash;for the tide was low, and the
+yellow sandbanks were shining through the blue waters of the sea. And
+would she not, seeing that the boat was lying down at the quay now, sail
+round the island, and see the splendid sight <a name="Page_270" id="Page_270" />of the Atlantic breaking
+on the wild coast on the western side? She hesitated; and then, when it
+was suggested that she might walk across the island, she eagerly
+accepted that alternative. They set out, on this hot, bright, beautiful
+day.</p>
+
+<p>But where he, eager to please her and show the beauties of the
+Highlands, saw lovely white sands, and smiling plains of verdure, and
+far views of the sunny sea, she only saw loneliness, and desolation, and
+a constant threatening of death from the fierce Atlantic. Could anything
+have been more beautiful, he said to himself, than this magnificent
+scene that lay all around her when they reached a far point on the
+western shore?&mdash;in face of them the wildly rushing seas, coming
+thundering on to the rocks, and springing so high into the air that the
+snow-white foam showed black against the glare of the sky; the nearer
+islands gleaming with a touch of brown on their sunward side; the
+Dutchman's Cap, with its long brim and conical centre, and Lunga, also
+like a cap, but with a shorter brim and a high peak in front, becoming a
+trifle blue; then Coll and Tiree lying like a pale stripe on the
+horizon; while far away in the north the mountains of Rum and Skye were
+faint and spectral in the haze of the sunlight. Then the wild coast
+around them; with its splendid masses of granite; and its spare grass a
+brown-green in the warm sun; and its bays of silver sand; and its
+sea-birds whiter than the white clouds that came sailing over the blue.
+She recognized only the awfulness and the loneliness of that wild shore;
+with its suggestions of crashing storms in the night-time, and the cries
+of drowning men dashed helplessly on the cruel rocks. She was very
+silent all the way back, though he told her stories of the fairies that
+used to inhabit those sandy and grassy plains.</p>
+
+<p>And could anything have been more magical than the beauty of that
+evening, after the storm had altogether died away? The red sunset sank
+behind the dark olive-green of the hills; a pale, clear twilight took
+its place, and shone over those mystic ruins that were the object of
+many a thought and many a pilgrimage in the far past and forgotten
+years; and then the stars began to glimmer as the distant shores and the
+sea grew dark; and then, still later on, a wonderful radiance rose
+behind the low hills of Mull, and across the waters of the Sound came a
+belt of quivering light as the white moon sailed slowly up into the sky.
+Would they venture out now into the silence? There was an odor of
+new-mown hay in the night air. Far away they could hear the <a name="Page_271" id="Page_271" />murmuring
+of the waves around the rocks. They did not speak a word as they walked
+along to those solemn ruins overlooking the sea, that were now a mass of
+mysterious shadow, except where the eastern walls and the tower were
+touched by the silvery light that had just come into the heavens.</p>
+
+<p>And in silence they entered the still churchyard, too, and passed the
+graves. The buildings seemed to rise above them in a darkened majesty;
+before them was a portal through which a glimpse of the moonlight sky
+was visible. Would they enter then?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am almost afraid,&quot; she said, in a low voice, to her companion, and
+the hand on his arm trembled.</p>
+
+<p>But no sooner had she spoken than there was a sudden sound in the night
+that caused her heart to jump. All over them and around them, as it
+seemed, there was a wild uproar of wings; and the clear sky above them
+was darkened by a cloud of objects wheeling this way and that, until at
+length they swept by overhead as if blown by a whirlwind, and crossed
+the clear moonlight in a dense body. She had quickly clung to him in her
+fear.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is only the jackdaws&mdash;there are hundreds of them,&quot; he said to her;
+but even his voice sounded strange in this hollow building.</p>
+
+<p>For they had now entered by the open doorway; and all around them were
+the tall and crumbling pillars, and the arched windows, and ruined
+walls, here and there catching the sharp light of the moonlight, here
+and there showing soft and gray with a reflected light, with spaces of
+black shadow which led to unknown recesses. And always overhead the
+clear sky with its pale stars; and always, far away, the melancholy
+sound of the sea.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know where you are standing now?&quot; said he, almost sadly. &quot;You
+are standing on the grave of Macleod of Macleod.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She started aside with a slight exclamation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not think they bury any one in here now,&quot; said he, gently. And
+then he added, &quot;Do you know that I have chosen the place for my grave?
+It is away out at one of the Treshnish islands; it is a bay looking to
+the west; there is no one living on that island. It is only a fancy of
+mine&mdash;to rest for ever and ever with no sound around you but the sea and
+the winds&mdash;no step coming near you, and no voice but the waves.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_272" id="Page_272" />Oh Keith, you should not say such things: you frighten me!&quot; she said,
+in a trembling voice.</p>
+
+<p>Another voice broke in upon them, harsh and pragmatical.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know, Sir Keith,&quot; said Mr. White, briskly, &quot;that the moonlight
+is clear enough to let you make out this plan? But I can't get the
+building to correspond. This is the chancel, I believe; but where are
+the cloisters?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will show you,&quot; Macleod said; and he led his companion through the
+silent and solemn place, her father following. In the darkness they
+passed through an archway, and were about to step out on to a piece of
+grass, when suddenly Miss White uttered a wild scream of terror and sank
+helplessly to the ground. She had slipped from his arm, but in an
+instant he had caught her again and had raised her on his bended knee,
+and was calling to her with kindly words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gertrude, Gertrude!&quot; he said. &quot;What is the matter? Won't you speak to
+me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And just as she was pulling herself together the innocent cause of this
+commotion was discovered. It was a black lamb that had come up in the
+most friendly manner and had rubbed its head against her hand to attract
+her notice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gertrude, see! it is only a lamb! It comes up to me every time I visit
+the ruins; look!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And, indeed, she was mightily ashamed of herself; and pretended to be
+vastly interested in the ruins; and was quite charmed with the view of
+the Sound in the moonlight, with the low hills beyond, now grown quite
+black; but all the same she was very silent as they walked back to the
+inn. And she was pale and thoughtful, too, while they were having their
+frugal supper of bread and milk; and very soon, pleading fatigue, she
+retired. But all the same, when Mr. White went upstairs, some time
+after, he had been but a short while in his room when he heard a tapping
+at the door. He said &quot;Come in,&quot; and his daughter entered. He was
+surprised by the curious look of her face&mdash;a sort of piteous look, as of
+one ill at ease, and yet ashamed to speak.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it, child?&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>She regarded him for a second with that piteous look; and then tears
+slowly gathered in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Papa,&quot; said she, in a sort of half-hysterical way, &quot;I want you to take
+me away from here. It frightens me. I don't know what it is. He was
+talking to me about graves&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And here she burst out crying, and sobbed bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_273" id="Page_273" />Oh, nonsense, child!&quot; her father said; &quot;your nervous system must have
+been shaken last night by that storm. I have seen a strange look upon
+your face all day. It was certainly a mistake our coming here; you are
+not fitted for this savage life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She grew more composed. She sat down for a few minutes; and her father,
+taking out a small flask which had been filled from a bottle of brandy
+sent over during the day from Castle Dare, poured out a little of the
+spirits, added some water, and made her drink the dose as a sleeping
+draught.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah well, you know, pappy,&quot; said she, as she rose to leave, and she
+bestowed a very pretty smile on him, &quot;it is all in the way of
+experience, isn't it? and an artist should experience everything. But
+there is just a little too much about graves and ghosts in these parts
+for me. And I suppose we shall go to-morrow to see some cave or other
+where two or three hundred men, women, and children were murdered.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope in going back we shall not be as near our own grave as we were
+last night,&quot; her father observed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And Keith Macleod laughs at it,&quot; she said, &quot;and says it was unfortunate
+we got a wetting!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so she went to bed; and the sea-air had dealt well with her; and she
+had no dreams at all of shipwrecks, or of black familiars in moonlit
+shrines. Why should her sleep be disturbed because that night she had
+put her foot on the grave of the chief of the Macleods?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV" />CHAPTER XXXIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE UMPIRE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Next morning, with all this wonderful world of sea and islands shining
+in the early sunlight, Mr. White and his daughter were down by the
+shore, walking along the white sands, and chatting idly as they went.
+From time to time they looked across the fair summer seas to the distant
+cliffs of Bourg; and each time they looked a certain small white speck
+seemed coming nearer. That was the <i>Umpire</i>; and Keith Macleod was on
+board of her. He had started at an unknown hour of the night to bring
+the yacht over from her <a name="Page_274" id="Page_274" />anchorage. He would not have his beautiful
+Fionaghal, who had come as a stranger to these far lands, go back to
+Dare in a common open boat with stones for ballast.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is the loneliest place I have ever seen,&quot; Miss Gertrude White was
+saying on this the third morning after her arrival. &quot;It seems scarcely
+in the world at all. The sea cuts you off from everything you know; it
+would have been nothing if we had come by rail.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They walked on in silence, the blue waves beside them curling a crisp
+white on the smooth sands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pappy,&quot; said she, at length, &quot;I suppose if I lived here for six months
+no one in England would know anything about me? If I were mentioned at
+all, they would think I was dead. Perhaps some day I might meet some one
+from England; and I would have to say, 'Don't you know who I am? Did you
+never hear of one called Gertrude White? I was Gertrude White.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No doubt,&quot; said her father, cautiously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And when Mr. Lemuel's portrait of me appears in the Academy, people
+would be saying, 'Who is that?' <i>Miss Gertrude White, as Juliet?</i> Ah,
+there was an actress of that name. Or was she an amateur? She married
+somebody in the Highlands. I suppose she is dead now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is one of the most gratifying instances, Gerty, of the position you
+have made,&quot; her father observed, in his slow and sententious way, &quot;that
+Mr. Lemuel should be so willing, after having refused to exhibit at the
+Academy for so many years, to make an exception in the case of your
+portrait.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I hope my face will not get burned by the sea-air and the sun,&quot;
+she said. &quot;You know he wants two or three more sittings. And do you
+know, pappy, I have sometimes thought of asking you to tell me
+honestly&mdash;not to encourage me with flattery, you know&mdash;whether my face
+has really that high-strung pitch of expression when I am about to drink
+the poison in the cell. Do I really look like Mr. Lemuel's portrait of
+me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is your very self, Gerty,&quot; her father said, with decision. &quot;But then
+Mr. Lemuel is a man of genius. Who but himself could have caught the
+very soul of your acting and fixed it on canvas?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated for a moment, and then there was a flush of genuine
+enthusiastic pride mantling on her forehead as she said, frankly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, then, I wish I could see myself!&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275" />Mr. White said nothing. He had watched this daughter of his through the
+long winter months. Occasionally, when he heard her utter sentiments
+such as these&mdash;and when he saw her keenly sensitive to the flattery
+bestowed upon her by the people assembled at Mr. Lemuel's little
+gatherings, he had asked himself whether it was possible she could ever
+marry Sir Keith Macleod. But he was too wise to risk reawakening her
+rebellious fits by any encouragement. In any case, he had some
+experience of this young lady; and what was the use of combatting one of
+her moods at five o'clock when at six o'clock she would be arguing in
+the contrary direction, and at seven convinced that the <i>viv media</i> was
+the straight road? Moreover, if the worst came to the worst, there would
+be some compensation in the fact of Miss White changing her name for
+that of Lady Macleod.</p>
+
+<p>Just as quickly she changed her mood on the present occasion. She was
+looking again far over the darkly blue and ruffled seas toward the
+white-sailed yacht.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He must have gone away in the dark to get that boat for us,&quot; said she,
+musingly. &quot;Poor fellow, how very generous and kind he is!
+Sometimes&mdash;shall I make the confession, pappy?&mdash;I wish he had picked out
+some one who could better have returned his warmth of feeling.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She called it a confession; but it was a question. And her father
+answered more bluntly than she had quite expected.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not much of an authority on such points,&quot; said he, with a dry
+smile; &quot;but I should have said, Gerty, that you have not been quite so
+effusive towards Sir Keith Macleod as some young ladies would have been
+on meeting their sweetheart after a long absence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The pale face flushed, and she answered, hastily,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you know, papa, when you are knocked about from one boat to
+another, and expecting to be ill one minute and drowned the next, you
+don't have your temper improved, do you? And then perhaps you have been
+expecting a little too much romance?&mdash;and you find your Highland
+chieftain handing down loaves, with all the people in the steamer
+staring at him. But I really mean to make it up to him, papa, if I could
+only get settled down for a day or two and get into my own ways. Oh dear
+me!&mdash;this sun&mdash;it is too awfully dreadful! When I appear before Mr.
+Lemuel again, I shall be a mulatto!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And as they walked along the burning sands, with the waves monotonously
+breaking, the white-sailed yacht came <a name="Page_276" id="Page_276" />nearer and more near; and,
+indeed, the old <i>Umpire</i>, broad-beamed and heavy as she was, looked
+quite stately and swanlike as she came over the blue water. And they saw
+the gig lowered; and the four oars keeping rhythmical time; and
+presently they could make out the browned and glad face of Macleod.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why did you take so much trouble?&quot; said she to him&mdash;and she took his
+hand in a very kind way as he stepped on shore. &quot;We could very well have
+gone back in the boat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, but I want to take you round by Loch Tua,&quot; said he, looking with
+great gratitude into those friendly eyes. &quot;And it was no trouble at all.
+And will you step into the gig now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He took her hand and guided her along the rocks until she reached the
+boat; and he assisted her father too. Then they pushed off, and it was
+with a good swing the men sent the boat through the lapping waves. And
+here was Hamish standing by the gangway to receive them; and he was
+gravely respectful to the stranger lady, as he assisted her to get up
+the small wooden steps; but there was no light of welcome in the keen
+gray eyes. He quickly turned away from her to give his orders; for
+Hamish was on this occasion skipper, and had donned a smart suit of blue
+with brass buttons. Perhaps he would have been prouder of his buttons,
+and of himself, and of the yacht he had sailed for so many years, if it
+had been any other than Gertrude White who had now stepped on board.</p>
+
+<p>But, on the other hand, Miss White was quite charmed with this shapely
+vessel and all its contents. If the frugal ways and commonplace duties
+and conversation of Castle Dare had somewhat disappointed her, and had
+seemed to her not quite in accordance with the heroic traditions of the
+clans, here, at least, was something which she could recognize as
+befitting her notion of the name and position of Sir Keith Macleod.
+Surely it must be with a certain masterful sense of possession that he
+would stand on those white decks, independent of all the world besides,
+with those sinewy, sun-browned, handsome fellows ready to go anywhere
+with him at his bidding? It is true that Macleod, in showing her over
+the yacht, seemed to know far too much about tinned meats; and he
+exhibited with some pride a cunning device for the stowage of
+soda-water; and he even went the length of explaining to her the
+capacities of the linen-chest; but then she could not fail to see that,
+in his eagerness to interest and <a name="Page_277" id="Page_277" />amuse her, he was as garrulous as a
+schoolboy showing to his companion a new toy. Miss White sat down in the
+saloon; and Macleod, who had but little experience in attending on
+ladies, and knew of but one thing that it was proper to recommend,
+said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And will you have a cup of tea now, Gertrude? Johnny will get it to you
+in a moment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, thank you,&quot; said she, with a smile, for she knew not how often he
+had offered her a cup of tea since her arrival in the Highlands. &quot;But do
+you know, Keith, your yacht has a terrible bachelor look about it? All
+the comforts of it are in this saloon and in those two nice little
+state-rooms. Your lady's cabin looks very empty; it is too elegant and
+fine, as if you were afraid to leave a book or a match-box in it. Now,
+if you were to turn this into a lady's yacht; you would have to remove
+that pipe-rack, and the guns and rifles and bags.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said he, anxiously, &quot;I hope you do not smell any tobacco?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not at all,&quot; said she. &quot;It was only a fancy. Of course you are not
+likely to turn your yacht into a lady's yacht.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He started and looked at her. But she had spoken quite thoughtlessly,
+and had now turned to her father.</p>
+
+<p>When they went on deck again they found that the <i>Umpire</i>, beating up in
+the face of a light northerly breeze, had run out for a long tack almost
+to the Dutchman's Cap; and from a certain distance they could see the
+grim shores of this desolate island, with its faint tinge of green grass
+over the brown of its plateau of rock. And then Hamish called out,
+&quot;Ready, about!&quot; and presently they were slowly leaving behind that
+lonely Dutchman and making away for the distant entrance to Loch Tua.
+The breeze was slight; they made but little way; far on the blue waters
+they watched the white gulls sitting buoyant; and the sun was hot on
+their hands. What did they talk about in this summer idleness? Many a
+time he had dreamed of his thus sailing over the clear seas with the
+fair Fionaghal from the South, until at times his heart, grown sick with
+yearning, was ready to despair of the impossible. And yet here she was
+sitting on a deck-stool near him&mdash;the wide-apart, long-lashed eyes
+occasionally regarding him&mdash;a neglected book open on her lap&mdash;the small
+gloved hands toying with the cover. Yet there was no word of love
+spoken. There was only a friendly conversation, and the idle passing of
+a summer day. It was something to know that her breathing was near him.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278" />Then the breeze died away altogether, and they were left altogether
+motionless on the glassy blue sea. The great sails hung limp, without a
+single flap or quiver in them; the red ensign clung to the jigger-mast;
+Hamish, though he stood by the tiller, did not even put his hand on that
+bold and notable representation in wood of the sea-serpent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come now, Hamish,&quot; Macleod said, fearing this monotonous idleness would
+weary his fair guest, &quot;you will tell us now one of the old stories that
+you used to tell me when I was a boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hamish had, indeed, told the young Macleod many a mysterious tale of
+magic and adventure, but he was not disposed to repeat any one of these
+in broken English in order to please this lady from the South.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is no more of the stories I hef now, Sir Keith,&quot; said he. &quot;It was a
+long time since I had the stories.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I could construct one myself,&quot; said Miss White, lightly. &quot;Don't I
+know how they all begin? '<i>There was once a king in Erin, and he had a
+son and this son it was who would take the world for his pillow. But
+before he set out on his travels, he took counsel of the falcon, and the
+hoodie, and the otter. And the falcon said to him, go to the right; and
+the hoodie said to him, you will be wise now if you go to the left; but
+the otter said to him, now take my advice</i>,' etc., etc.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have been a diligent student,&quot; Macleod said, laughing heartily.
+&quot;And, indeed, you might go on with the story and finish it; for who
+knows now when we shall get back to Dare?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was after a long period of thus lying in dead calm&mdash;with the
+occasional appearance of a diver on the surface of the shining blue
+sea&mdash;that Macleod's sharply observant eye was attracted by an odd thing
+that appeared far away at the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you think is that now?&quot; said he, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>They looked steadfastly, and saw only a thin line of silver light,
+almost like the back of a knife, in the distant dark blue.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The track of a seal swimming under water,&quot; Mr. White suggested.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Or a shoal of fish,&quot; his daughter said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Watch!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sharp line of light slowly spread; a trembling silver-gray took the
+place of the dark blue; it looked as if invisible fingers were rushing
+out and over the glassy surface. Then <a name="Page_279" id="Page_279" />they felt a cool freshness in the
+hot air; the red ensign swayed a bit; then the great mainsail flapped
+idly; and finally the breeze came gently blowing over the sea, and on
+again they went through the now rippling water. And as the slow time
+passed in the glare of the sunlight, Staffa lay on the still water a
+dense mass of shadow; and they went by Lunga; and they drew near to the
+point of Gometra, where the black skarts were sitting on the exposed
+rocks. It was like a dream of sunlight, and fair colors, and summer
+quiet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot believe,&quot; said she to him, &quot;that those fierce murders and
+revenges took place in such beautiful scenes as these. How could they?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then, in the broad and still waters of Loch Tua, with the lonely
+rocks of Ulva close by them, they were again becalmed; and now it was
+decided that they should leave the yacht there at certain moorings, and
+should get into the gig and be pulled through the shallow channel
+between Ulva and Mull that connects Loch Tua with Loch-na-Keal. Macleod
+had been greatly favored by the day chosen at haphazard for this water
+promenade: at the end of it he was gladdened to hear Miss White say that
+she had never seen anything so lovely on the face of the earth.</p>
+
+<p>And yet it was merely a question of weather. To-morrow they might come
+back and find the water a ruffled leaden color; the waves washing over
+the rocks; Ben More invisible behind driving clouds. But now, as those
+three sat in the stern of the gig, and were gently pulled by the sweep
+of the oars, it seemed to one at least of them that she must have got
+into fairyland. The rocky shores of Ulva lay on one side of this broad
+and winding channel, the flatter shores of Mull on the other, and
+between lay a perfect mirror of water, in which everything was so
+accurately reflected that it was quite impossible to define the line at
+which the water and the land met. In fact, so vivid was the reflection
+of the blue and white sky on the surface of the water that it appeared
+to her as if the boat was suspended in mid-air&mdash;a sky below, a sky
+above. And then the beauty of the landscape that enclosed this wonderful
+mirror&mdash;the soft green foliage above the Ulva rocks; the brilliant
+yellow-brown of the sea-weed, with here there a gray heron standing
+solitary and silent as a ghost over the pools; ahead of them, towering
+above this flat and shining and beautiful landscape, the awful majesty
+of the mountains around Loch-na-Keal&mdash;the monarch of them, Ben More,
+showing a cone of dark and thunderous purple under <a name="Page_280" id="Page_280" />a long and heavy
+swathe of cloud. Far away, too, on their right, stretched the splendid
+rampart of the Gribun cliffs, a soft sunlight on the grassy greens of
+their summits; a pale and brilliant blue in the shadows of the huge and
+yawning caves. And so still it was, and the air so fine and sweet: it
+was a day for the idling of happy lovers.</p>
+
+<p>What jarred, then? Not the silent appearance of the head of a seal in
+that shining plain of blue and white; for the poor old fellow only
+regarded the boat for a second or two with his large and pathetic eyes,
+and then quietly disappeared. Perhaps it was this&mdash;that Miss White was
+leaning over the side of the boat, and admiring very much the wonderful
+hues of groups of sea-weed below, that were all distinctly visible in
+the marvellously clear water. There were beautiful green plants that
+spread their flat fingers over the silver-white sands; and huge rolls of
+purple and sombre brown; and long strings that came up to the
+surface&mdash;the traceries and decorations of these haunts of the mermaid.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is like a pantomime,&quot; she said. &quot;You would expect to see a burst of
+lime-light, and Neptune appearing with a silver trident and crown. Well,
+it only shows that the scene-painters are nearer nature than most people
+imagine. I should never have thought there was anything so beautiful in
+the sea.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then again she said, when they had rounded Ulva, and got a glimpse
+of the open Atlantic again,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where is it, Keith, you proposed to sink all the theatres in England
+for the benefit of the dolphins and the lobsters?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He did not like these references to the theatre.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was only a piece of nonsense,&quot; said he, abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>But then she begged him so prettily to get the men to sing the
+boat-song, that he good-humoredly took out a sheet of paper and a
+pencil, and said to her,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I write it down for you, I must write it as it is pronounced. For
+how would you know that <i>Fhir a bhata, na horo eile</i> is pronounced <i>Feer
+a vahta na horo ailya?</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And perhaps, then,&quot; said she, with a charming smile, &quot;writing it down
+would spoil it altogether? But you will ask them to sing it for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He said a word or two in the Gaelic to Sandy, who was rowing stroke; and
+Sandy answered with a short, quick laugh of assent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have asked them if they would drink your health,&quot; Macleod said, &quot;and
+they have not refused. It would be a <a name="Page_281" id="Page_281" />great compliment to them if you
+would fill out the whiskey yourself; here is my flask.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She took that formidable vessel in her small hands, and the men rested
+on their oars; and then the metal cup was passed along. Whether it was
+the dram, or whether it was the old familiar chorus they struck up&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i25">&quot;Fhir a bhata (na horo eile)<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Fhir a bhata (na horo eile)<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Fhir a bhata (na horo eile)<br /></span>
+<span>Chead soire slann leid ge thobh a' theid u,&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>certain it is that the boat swung forward with a new strength, and
+erelong they beheld in the distance the walls of Castle Dare. And here
+was Janet at the small quay, greatly distressed because of the
+discomfort to which Miss White must have been subjected.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I have been telling Sir Keith,&quot; she said, with a sweet smile, &quot;that
+I have come through the most beautiful place I have ever seen in the
+world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This was not, however, what she was saying to herself when she reached
+the privacy of her own room. Her thoughts took a different turn.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if it does seem impossible&quot;&mdash;this was her inward speech to
+herself&mdash;&quot;that those wild murders should have been committed in so
+beautiful a place, at least there will be a fair chance of one occurring
+when I tell him that I have signed an engagement that will last till
+Christmas. But what good could come of being in a hurry?&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV" />CHAPTER XXXV.</h2>
+
+<h3>A CAVE IN MULL.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Of love not a single word had so far been said between these two. It was
+a high sense of courtesy that on his part had driven him to exercise
+this severe self-restraint; he would not invite her to be his guest, and
+then take advantage of the various opportunities offered to plague her
+with the vehemence and passionate yearning of his heart. For during all
+those long winter months he had gradually learned, <a name="Page_282" id="Page_282" />from the
+correspondence which he so carefully studied, that she rather disliked
+protestation; and when he hinted that he thought her letters to him were
+somewhat cold, she only answered with a playful humor; and when he tried
+to press her to some declaration about her leaving the stage or about
+the time of their marriage, she evaded the point with an extreme
+cleverness which was so good-natured and friendly that he could scarcely
+complain. Occasionally there were references in these letters that
+awakened in his breast a tumult of jealous suspicions and fears; but
+then again he consoled himself by looking forward to the time when she
+should be released from all those environments that he hated and
+dreaded. He would have no more fear when he could take her hand and look
+into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>And now that Miss Gertrude White was actually in Castle Dare&mdash;now that
+he could walk with her along the lonely mountain-slopes and show her the
+wonders of the Western seas and the islands&mdash;what was it that still
+occasioned that vague unrest? His nervous anxiety that she should be
+pleased with all she saw? or a certain critical coldness in her glance?
+or the consciousness that he was only entertaining a passing visitor&mdash;a
+beautiful bird that had alighted on his hand, and that the next moment
+would be winging its flight away into the silvery South?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are becoming a capital sailor,&quot; he said to her one day, with a
+proud light on his face. &quot;You have no fear at all of the sea now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He and she and the cousin Janet&mdash;Mr. White had some letters to answer,
+and had stayed at home&mdash;were in the stern of the gig, and they were
+being rowed along the coast below the giant cliffs of Gribun. Certainly
+if Miss White had confessed to being a little nervous, she might have
+been excused. It was a beautiful, fresh, breezy, summer day; but the
+heavy Atlantic swell, that slowly raised and lowered the boat as the men
+rowed along, passed gently and smoothly on, and then went booming and
+roaring and crashing over the sharp black rocks that were quite close at
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I would soon get over my fear of the sea,&quot; she said, gently.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, it was not that that was most likely to impress her on this
+bright day&mdash;it was the awful loneliness and desolation of the scene
+around her. All along the summit of the great cliffs lay heavy banks of
+cloud that moved and wreathed themselves together, with mysterious
+patches of darkness <a name="Page_283" id="Page_283" />here and there that suggested the entrance into far
+valleys in the unseen mountains behind. And if the outer surface of
+these precipitous cliffs was brightened by sunlight, and if there was a
+sprinkling of grass on the ledges, every few minutes they passed the
+yawning archway of a huge cavern, around which the sea was roaring with
+a muffled and thunderous noise. He thought she would be interested in
+the extraordinary number and variety of the sea-birds about&mdash;the solemn
+cormorants sitting on the ledges, the rock-pigeons shooting out from the
+caves, the sea-pyots whirring along the rocks like lightning-flashes of
+color, the lordly osprey, with his great wings outstretched and
+motionless, sailing slowly in the far blue overhead. And no doubt she
+looked at all these things with a forced interest; and she herself now
+could name the distant islands out in the tossing Atlantic; and she had
+in a great measure got accustomed to the amphibious life at Dare. But as
+she listened to the booming of the waves around those awful recesses;
+and as she saw the jagged and angry rocks suddenly appear through the
+liquid mass of the falling sea: and as she looked abroad on the unknown
+distances of that troubled ocean, and thought of the life on those
+remote and lonely islands, the spirit of a summer holiday forsook her
+altogether, and she was silent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you will have no fear of the beast when you go into Mackinnon's
+cave,&quot; said Janet Macleod to her, with a friendly smile, &quot;because no one
+has ever heard of it again. Do you know, it was a strange thing? They
+saw in the sand the footprint of an animal that is not known to any one
+about here; even Keith himself did not know what it was&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think it was a wild-cat,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And the men they had nothing to do then; and they went all about the
+caves, but they could see nothing of it. And it has never come back
+again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I suppose you are not anxious for its coming back?&quot; Miss White
+said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps you will be very lucky and see it some day, and I know that
+Keith would like to shoot it, whatever it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is very likely,&quot; Miss White said, without any apparent sarcasm.</p>
+
+<p>By and by they paused opposite the entrance to a cave that seemed even
+larger and blacker than the others; and then Miss White discovered that
+they were considering at what point they could most easily effect a
+landing. Already through the singularly clear water she could make out
+vague <a name="Page_284" id="Page_284" />green masses that told of the presence of huge blocks of yellow
+rock far below them; and as they cautiously went farther toward the
+shore, a man at the bow calling out to them, these blocks of rock became
+clearer and clearer, until it seemed as if those glassy billows that
+glided under the boat, and then went crashing in white foam a few yards
+beyond, must inevitably transfix the frail craft on one of these jagged
+points. But at length they managed to run the bow of the gig into a
+somewhat sheltered place, and two of the men, jumping knee-deep into the
+water, hauled the keel still farther over the grating shell-fish of the
+rock; and then Macleod, scrambling out, assisted Miss White to land.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you not come with us?&quot; Miss White called back to the boat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, it is many a time I have been in the cave,&quot; said Janet Macleod;
+&quot;and I will have the luncheon ready for you. And you will not stay long
+in the cave, for it is cold and damp.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He took her hand, for the scrambling over the rough rocks and stores was
+dangerous work for unfamiliar ankles. They drew nearer to this awful
+thing, that rose far above them, and seemed waiting to enclose them and
+shut them in forever. And whereas about the other caves there were
+plenty of birds flying, with their shrill screams denoting their terror
+or resentment, there was no sign of life at all about this black and
+yawning chasm, and there was an absolute silence, but for the rolling of
+the breakers behind them that only produced vague and wandering echoes.
+As she advanced over the treacherous shingle, she became conscious of a
+sort of twilight appearing around her. A vast black thing&mdash;black as
+night and still as the grave&mdash;was ahead of her; but already the change
+from the blaze of sunlight outside to this partial darkness seemed
+strange on the eyes. The air grew colder. As she looked up at the
+tremendous walls, and at the mysterious blackness beyond, she grasped
+his hand more tightly, though the walking on the wet sand was now
+comparatively easy. And as they went farther and farther into this
+blackness, there was only a faint, strange light that made an outline of
+the back of his figure, leaving his face in darkness; and when he
+stopped to examine the sand, she turned and looked back, and behold the
+vast portal by which they entered had now dwindled down into a small
+space of bewildering white.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said he, and she was startled by the hollow tones <a name="Page_285" id="Page_285" />of his voice;
+&quot;I cannot find any traces of the boat news; they have all gone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he produced a candle and lit it; and as they advanced farther into
+the blackness, there was visible this solitary star of red fire, that
+threw dull, mysterious gleams from time to time on some projecting
+rocks.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must give me your hand again, Keith,&quot; said she, in a low voice; and
+when he shifted the candle, and took her hand in his, he found that it
+was trembling somewhat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you go any farther?&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They stood and looked around. The darkness seemed without limits; the
+red light was insufficient to produce anything like an outline of this
+immense place, even in faint and wandering gleams.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If anything were to move, Keith,&quot; said she, &quot;I should die.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, nonsense!&quot; said he, in a cheerful way; but the hollow echoes of the
+cavern made his voice sound sepulchral. &quot;There is no beast at all in
+here, you may be sure. And I have often thought of the fright a wild-cat
+or a beaver may have got when he came in here in the night, and then
+discovered he had stumbled on a lot of sleeping men&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of men!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They say this was a sanctuary of the Culdees; and I often wonder how
+the old chaps got their food. I am afraid they must have often fallen
+back on the young cormorants: that is what Major Stuart calls an
+expeditious way of dining&mdash;for you eat two courses, fish and meat, at
+the same time. And if you go further along, Gertrude, you will come to
+the great altar-stone they used.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would rather not go,&quot; said she. &quot;I&mdash;I do not like this place. I think
+we will go back now, Keith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As they cautiously made their way back to the glare of the entrance, she
+still held his hand tight; and she did not speak at all. Their footsteps
+echoed strangely in this hollow space. And then the air grew suddenly
+warm; and there was a glow of daylight around; and although her eyes
+were rather bewildered, she breathed more freely, and there was an air
+of relief on her face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I will sit down for a moment, Keith,&quot; said she; and then he
+noticed, with a sudden alarm, that her cheeks were rather pale.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_286" id="Page_286" />Are you ill?&quot; said he, with a quick anxiety in his eyes &quot;Were you
+frightened?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no!&quot; said she, with a forced cheerfulness, and she sat down for a
+moment on one of the smooth boulders. &quot;You must not think I am such a
+coward as that. But&mdash;the chilling atmosphere&mdash;the change&mdash;made me a
+little faint.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall I run down to the boat for some wine for you? I know that Janet
+has brought some claret.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, not at all!&quot; said she&mdash;and he saw with a great delight that her
+color was returning. &quot;I am quite well now. But I will rest for a minute,
+if you are in no hurry, before scrambling down those stones again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was in no hurry; on the contrary, he sat down beside her and took her
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know, Gerty,&quot; said he, &quot;it will be some time before I can learn all
+that you like and dislike, and what you can bear, and what pleases you
+best; it will be some time, no doubt; but then, when I have learned, you
+will find that no one will look after you so carefully as I will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know you are very kind to me,&quot; said she, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now,&quot; said he, very gently, and even timidly, but his firm hand
+held her languid one with something of a more nervous clasp, &quot;if you
+would only tell me, Gerty, that on such and such a day you would leave
+the stage altogether, and on such and such a day you would let me come
+to London&mdash;and you know the rest&mdash;then I would go to my mother, and
+there would be no need of any more secrecy, and instead of her treating
+you merely as a guest she would look on you as her daughter, and you
+might talk with her frankly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She did not at all withdraw the small gloved hand, with its fringe of
+fur at the end of the narrow sleeve. On the contrary, as it lay there in
+his warm grasp, it was like the small, white, furred foot of a
+ptarmigan, so little and soft and gentle was it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you know, Keith,&quot; she said, with a great kindness in the clear
+eyes, though they were cast down, &quot;I think the secret between you and me
+should be known to nobody at all but ourselves&mdash;any more than we can
+reasonably help. And it is a very great step to take; and you must not
+expect me to be in a hurry, for no good ever came of that. I did not
+think you would have cared so much&mdash;I mean, a man has so many
+distractions and occupations of shooting, and going away in your yacht
+and all that&mdash;I fancy&mdash;I am a little <a name="Page_287" id="Page_287" />surprised&mdash;that you make so much
+of it. We have a great deal to learn yet, Keith; we don't know each
+other very well. By and by we may be quite sure that there is no danger;
+that we understand each other; that nothing and nobody is likely to
+interfere. But wouldn't you prefer to be left in the meantime just a
+little bit free&mdash;not quite pledged, you know, to such a serious thing&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had been listening to these faltering phrases in a kind of dazed and
+pained stupor. It was like the water overwhelming a
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'drowing'">drowning</ins>
+man. But
+at last he cried out&mdash;and he grasped both her hands in the sudden
+vehemence of the moment&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty, you are not drawing back! You do not despair of our being
+husband and wife! What is it that you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Keith!&quot; said she, quickly withdrawing one of her hands, &quot;you
+frighten me when you talk like that! You do not know what you are
+doing&mdash;you have hurt my wrist!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I hope not!&quot; said he. &quot;Have I hurt your hand, Gerty?&mdash;and I would
+cut off one of mine to save you a scratch! But you will tell me now that
+you have no fears&mdash;that you don't want to draw back! I would like to
+take you back to Dare, and be able to say to every one, 'Do you know
+that this is my wife&mdash;that by and by she is coming to Dare&mdash;and you will
+all be kind to her for her own sake and for mine.' And if there is
+anything wrong, Gerty, if there is anything you would like altered, I
+would have it altered. We have a rude way of life; but every one would
+be kind to you. And if the life here is too rough for you, I would go
+anywhere with you that you choose to live. I was looking at the houses
+in Essex. I would go to Essex, or anywhere you might wish; that need not
+separate us at all. And why are you so cold and distant, Gerty? Has
+anything happened here to displease you? Have we frightened you by too
+much of the boats and of the sea? Would you rather live in an English
+county away from the sea? But I would do that for you, Gerty&mdash;if I was
+never to see a sea-bird again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And in spite of himself tears rose quickly to his eyes; for she seemed
+so far away from him, even as he held her hand; and his heart would
+speak at last&mdash;or break.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was all the winter months I was saying to myself, 'Now you will not
+vex her with too much pleading, for she has much trouble with her work;
+and that is enough; and a man can bear his own trouble.' And once or
+twice, when we have been caught in a bad sea, I said to myself, 'And
+what <a name="Page_288" id="Page_288" />matter now if the end comes?&mdash;for perhaps that would only release
+her.' But then again, Gerty, I thought of the time you gave me the red
+rose; and I said, 'Surely her heart will not go away from me; and I have
+plenty to live for yet!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then she looked him frankly in the face, with those beautiful, clear,
+sad eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You deserve all the love a woman can give you, Keith; for you have a
+man's heart. And I wish I could make you a fair return for all your
+courage, and gentleness, and kindness&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, do not say that,&quot; he said, quickly. &quot;Do not think I am complaining
+of you, Gerty. It is enough&mdash;it is enough&mdash;I thank God for his mercy to
+me; for there never was any man so glad as I was when you gave me the
+red rose. And now, sweetheart&mdash;now you will tell me that I will put away
+all this trouble and have no more fears; and there will be no need to
+think of what you are doing far away; and there will be one day that all
+the people will know&mdash;and there will be laughing and gladness that day;
+and if we will keep the pipes away from you, all the people about will
+have the pipes, and there will be a dance and a song that day. Ah,
+Gerty, you must not think harshly of the people about here. They have
+their ways. They would like to please you. But my heart is with them;
+and a marriage-day would be no marriage-day to me that I did not spend
+among my own people&mdash;my own people.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was talking quite wildly. She had seen him in this mood once or twice
+before, and she was afraid.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you know, Keith,&quot; said she, gently, and with averted eyes, &quot;a great
+deal has to be done before then. And a woman is not so impulsive as a
+man; and you must not be angry if I beg for a little time&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what is time?&quot; said he, in the same glad and wild way&mdash;and now it
+was his hand holding hers that was trembling. &quot;It will all go by in a
+moment&mdash;like a dream&mdash;when we know that the one splendid day is coming.
+And I will send a haunch to the Dubh Artach men that morning; and I will
+send a haunch to Skerryvore; and there will not be a man in Iona, or
+Coll, or Mull, that will not have his dram that day. And what will you
+do, Gerty&mdash;what will you do? Oh, I will tell you now what you will do on
+that morning. You will take out some sheets of the beautiful, small,
+scented paper; and you will write to this theatre and to that theatre:
+'<i>Good-by&mdash;perhaps you were useful to me once, and I bear you <a name="Page_289" id="Page_289" />no
+ill-will: but&mdash;Good-by forever and ever!</i>' And I will have all the
+children that I took to the Crystal Palace last summer given a fine
+dinner; and the six boy-pipers will play <i>Mrs. Macleod of Raasay</i> again;
+and they will have a fine reel once more. There will be many a one know
+that you are married that day, Gerty. And when is the day to be, Gerty?
+Cannot you tell me now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is a drop of rain!&quot; she exclaimed; and she suddenly sprang to her
+feet. The skies were black overhead. &quot;Oh, dear me!&quot; she said, &quot;how
+thoughtless of us to leave your poor cousin Janet in that open boat, and
+a shower coming on! Please give me your hand now, Keith. And you must
+not take all these things so seriously to heart, you know; or I will say
+you have not the courage of a feeble woman like myself. And do you think
+the shower will pass over?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not know,&quot; said he, in a vague way, as if he had not quite
+understood the question; but he took her hand, and in silence guided her
+down to the rocks, where the boat was ready to receive them.</p>
+
+<p>And now they saw the strange transformation that had come over the
+world. The great troubled sea was all of a dark slate-green, with no
+glad ripples of white, but with long-squally drifts of black; and a cold
+wind was blowing gustily in; and there were hurrying clouds of a leaden
+hue tearing across the sky. As for the islands&mdash;where were they? Ulva
+was visible, to be sure, and Colonsay&mdash;both of them a heavy and gloomy
+purple; and nearer at hand the rock of Errisker showed in a wan, gray
+light between the lowering sky and the squally sea; but Lunga, and
+Fladda, and Staffa, and Iona, and even the long promontory of the Ross
+of Mull, were all hidden away behind the driving mists of rain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh you lazy people!&quot; Janet Macleod cried, cheerfully&mdash;she was not at
+all frightened by the sudden storm. &quot;I thought the wild beast had killed
+you in the cave. And shall we have luncheon now, Keith, or go back at
+once?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He cast an eye towards the westward horizon and the threatening sky:
+Janet noticed at once that he was rather pale.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We will have luncheon as they pull us back,&quot; said he, in an absent way,
+as if he was not quite sure of what was happening around him.</p>
+
+<p>He got her into the boat, and then followed. The men, not sorry to get
+away from these jagged rocks, took to their <a name="Page_290" id="Page_290" />oars with a will. And then
+he sat silent and distraught, as the two women, muffled up in their
+cloaks, chatted cheerfully, and partook of the sandwiches and claret
+that Janet had got out of the basket. &quot;<i>Fhir a bhata</i>,&quot; the men sang to
+themselves; and they passed under the great cliffs, all black and
+thunderous now; and the white surf was springing over the rocks. Macleod
+neither ate nor drank; but sometimes he joined in the conversation in a
+forced way; and occasionally he laughed more loudly than the occasion
+warranted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes,&quot; he said, &quot;oh yes, you are becoming a good sailor now,
+Gertrude. You have no longer any fear of the water.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will become like little Johnny Wickes, Miss White,&quot; the cousin
+Janet said, &quot;the little boy I showed you the other day. He has got to be
+like a duck in his love for the water. And, indeed, I should have
+thought he would have got a fright when Keith saved him from drowning;
+but no.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you save him from being drowned?&quot; she said, turning to him. &quot;And
+you did not tell me the story?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was no story,&quot; said he. &quot;He fell into the water, and we picked him
+up somehow;&quot; and then he turned impatiently to the men, and said some
+words to them in the Gaelic, and there was no more singing of the
+Farewell to the Boatman after that.</p>
+
+<p>They got home to Castle Dare before the rain came on; though, indeed, it
+was but a passing shower, and it was succeeded by a bright afternoon
+that deepened into a clear and brilliant sunset; but as they went up
+through the moist-smelling larch-wood&mdash;and as Janet happened to fall
+behind for a moment, to speak to a herdboy who was by the
+wayside&mdash;Macleod said to his companion,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And have you no other word for me, Gertrude?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then she said with a very gracious smile,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must be patient, Keith. Are we not very well off as we are? I know
+a good many people who are not quite so well off. And I have no doubt we
+shall have courage to meet whatever good or bad fortune the days may
+bring us; and if it is good, then we shall shake hands over it, just as
+the village people do in an opera.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Fine phrases; though this man, with the dark and hopeless look in his
+eyes, did not seem to gain much gladness from them. And she forgot to
+tell him about that engagement which was to last till Christmas; perhaps
+if she had told him just then he would scarcely have heard her.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI" /><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291" />CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE NEW TRAGEDY.</h3>
+
+
+<p>His generous, large nature fought hard to find excuses for her. He
+strove to convince himself that this strange coldness, this evasion,
+this half-repellent attitude, was but a form of maiden coyness. It was
+her natural fear of so great a change. It was the result, perhaps, of
+some last lingering look back to the scene of her artistic triumphs. It
+did not even occur to him as a possibility that this woman with her
+unstable sympathies and her fatally facile imagination, should have
+taken up what was now the very end and aim of his life, and have played
+with the pretty dream until she grew tired of the toy, and was ready to
+let her wandering fancy turn to something other and new.</p>
+
+<p>He dared not even think of that; but all the same, as he stood at this
+open window alone, an unknown fear had come over him. It was a fear
+altogether vague and undefined; but it seemed to have the power of
+darkening the daylight around him. Here was the very picture he had so
+often desired that she should see&mdash;the wind-swept Atlantic; the glad
+blue skies with their drifting clouds of summer white; the Erisgeir
+rocks; the green shores of Ulva; and Colonsay and Gometra and Staffa all
+shining in the sunlight; with the sea-birds calling, and the waves
+breaking, and the soft west wind stirring the fuchsia-bushes below the
+windows of Castle Dare. And it was all dark now; and the sea was a
+lonely thing&mdash;more lonely than ever it had been even during that long
+winter that he had said was like a grave.</p>
+
+<p>And she?&mdash;at this moment she was down at the small bridge that crossed
+the burn. She had gone out to seek her father; had found him coming up
+through the larch-wood, and was now accompanying him back. They had
+rested here; he sitting on the weatherworn parapet of the bridge; she
+leaping over it, and idly dropping bits of velvet-green moss into the
+whirl of clear brown water below.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose we must be thinking of getting away from Castle Dare, Gerty,&quot;
+said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_292" id="Page_292" />I shall not be sorry,&quot; she answered.</p>
+
+<p>But even Mr. White was somewhat taken aback by the cool promptitude of
+this reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you know your own business best,&quot; he said to her. &quot;It is not for
+me to interfere. I said from the beginning I would not interfere. But
+still I wish you would be a little more explicit, Gerty, and let one
+understand what you mean&mdash;whether, in fact, you do mean, or do not mean,
+to marry Macleod.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And who said that I proposed not to marry him?&quot; said she; but she still
+leaned over the rough stones and looked at the water. &quot;The first thing
+that would make me decline would be the driving me into a corner&mdash;the
+continual goading, and reminding me of the duty I had to perform. There
+has been just a little too much of that here&quot;&mdash;and at this point she
+raised herself so that she could regard her father when she wished&mdash;&quot;and
+I really must say that I do not like to be taking a holiday with the
+feeling hanging over you that certain things are expected of you every
+other moment, and that you run the risk of being considered a very
+heartless and ungrateful person unless you do and say certain things you
+would perhaps rather not do and say. I should like to be let alone. I
+hate being goaded. And I certainly did not expect that you, too, papa,
+would try to drive me into a corner.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She spoke with some little warmth. Mr. White smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was quite unaware, Gerty,&quot; said he, &quot;that you were suffering this
+fearful persecution.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may laugh, but it is true,&quot; said she, and there was a trifle of
+color in her cheeks. &quot;The serious interests I am supposed to be
+concerned about! Such profound topics of conversation! Will the steamer
+come by the south to-morrow, or round by the north? The Gometra men have
+had a good take of lobsters yesterday. Will the head-man at the
+Something lighthouse be transferred to some other lighthouse? and how
+will his wife and family like the change? They are doing very well with
+a subscription for a bell for the Free Church at Iona. The deer have
+been down at John Maclean's barley again. Would I like to visit the
+weaver at Iona who has such a wonderful turn for mathematics? and would
+I like to know the man at Salen who has the biographies of all the great
+men of the time in his head?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss White had worked herself up to a pretty pitch of <a name="Page_293" id="Page_293" />contemptuous
+indignation; her father was almost beginning to believe that it was
+real.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is all very well for the Macleods to interest themselves with these
+trumpery little local matters. They play the part of grand patron; the
+people are proud to honor them; it is a condescension when they remember
+the name of the crofter's youngest boy. But as for me&mdash;when I am taken
+about&mdash;well, I do not like being stared at as if they thought I was
+wearing too fine clothes. I don't like being continually placed in a
+position of inferiority through my ignorance&mdash;an old fool of a boatman
+saying 'Bless me!' when I have to admit that I don't know the difference
+between a sole and a flounder. I don't want to know. I don't want to be
+continually told. I wish these people would meet me on my own ground. I
+wish the Macleods would begin to talk after dinner about the Lord
+Chamberlain's interference with the politics of burlesque, and then
+perhaps they would not be so glib. I am tired of hearing about John
+Maclean's boat, and Donald Maclean's horse, and Sandy Maclean's refusal
+to pay the road-tax. And as for the drinking of whiskey that these
+sailors get through&mdash;well, it seems to me that the ordinary condition of
+things is reversed here altogether; and if they ever put up an asylum in
+Mull, it will be a lunatic asylum for incurable abstainers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, now, Gerty!&quot; said her father; but all the same he rather liked to
+see his daughter get on her high horse, for she talked with spirit, and
+it amused him. &quot;You must remember that Macleod looks on this as a
+holiday-time, and perhaps he may be a little lax in his regulations. I
+have no doubt it is because he is so proud to have you on board his
+yacht that he occasionally gives the men an extra glass; and I am sure
+it does them no harm, for they seem to be as much in the water as out of
+it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She paid no heed to this protest. She was determined to give free speech
+to her sense of wrong, and humiliation, and disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What has been the great event since ever we came here&mdash;the wildest
+excitement the island can afford?&quot; she said, &quot;the arrival of the pedlar!
+A snuffy old man comes into the room, with a huge bundle wrapped up in
+dirty waterproof. Then there is a wild clatter of Gaelic. But suddenly,
+don't you know, there are one or two glances at me; and the Gaelic
+stops; and Duncan or John, or whatever they call him, begins to stammer
+in English, and I am shown coarse stock<a name="Page_294" id="Page_294" />ings, and bundles of wool, and
+drugget petticoats, and cotton handkerchiefs. And then Miss Macleod buys
+a number of things which I know she does not want; and I am looked on as
+a strange creature because I do not purchase a bundle of wool or a pair
+of stockings fit for a farmer. The Autolycus of Mull is not impressive,
+pappy. Oh, but I forgot the dramatic surprise&mdash;that also was to be an
+event, I have no doubt. I was suddenly introduced to a child dressed in
+a kilt; and I was to speak to him; and I suppose I was to be profoundly
+moved when I heard him speak to me in my own tongue in this out of the
+world place. My own tongue! The horrid little wretch has not an <i>h</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, there's no pleasing you, Gerty,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't want to be pleased; I want to be let alone,&quot; said she.</p>
+
+<p>But she said this with just a little too much sharpness; for her father
+was, after all, a human being; and it did seem to him to be too bad that
+he should be taunted in this fashion, when he had done his best to
+preserve a wholly neutral attitude.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let me tell you this, madam,&quot; said he, in a playful manner, but with
+some decision in his tone, &quot;that you may live to have the pride taken
+out of you. You have had a good deal of flattery and spoiling; and you
+may find out you have been expecting too much. As for these Macleods
+here, I will say this&mdash;although I came here very much against my own
+inclination&mdash;that I defy any one to have been more kind, and courteous,
+and attentive than they have been to you. I don't care. It is not my
+business, as I tell you. But I must say, Gerty, that when you make a
+string of complaints as the only return for all their hospitality&mdash;their
+excessive and almost burdensome hospitality&mdash;I think that even I am
+bound to say a word. You forget how you come here. You, a perfect
+stranger, come here as engaged to marry the old lady's only son&mdash;to
+dispossess her&mdash;very probably to make impossible a match that she had
+set her heart on. And both she and her niece&mdash;you understand what I
+mean&mdash;instead of being cold, or at least formal, to you, seem to me to
+think of nothing from morning till night but how to surround you with
+kindness, in a way that Englishwomen would never think of. And this you
+call persecution; and you are vexed with them because they won't talk to
+you about theatres&mdash;why, bless my soul, how long it is since you were
+yourself talking about theatres as if the very word choked you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_295" id="Page_295" />Well, at least, pappy, I never thought you would turn against me,&quot;
+said she, as she put her head partly aside, and made a mouth as if she
+were about to cry; &quot;and when mamma made you promise to look after Carry
+and me, I am sure she never thought&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now this was too much for Mr. White. In the small eyes behind the big
+gold spectacles there was a quick flash of fire.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't be a fool, Gerty!&quot; said he, in downright anger. &quot;You know it is
+no use your trying to humbug me. If you think the ways of this house are
+too poor and mean for your grand notions of state&mdash;if you think he has
+not enough money, and you are not likely to have fine dinners and
+entertainments for your friends&mdash;if you are determined to break off the
+match&mdash;why, then do it! but, I tell you, don't try to humbug me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss White's pathetic attitude suddenly vanished. She drew herself up
+with much dignity and composure, and said,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At all events, sir, I have been taught my duty to you; and I think it
+better not to answer you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With that she moved off toward the house; and Mr. White, taking to
+whistling, began to do as she had been doing&mdash;idly throwing bits of moss
+into the rushing burn. After all, it was none of his business.</p>
+
+<p>But that evening, some little time before dinner, it was proposed they
+should go for a stroll down to the shore; and then it was that Miss
+White thought she would seize the occasion to let Macleod know of her
+arrangements for the coming autumn and winter. Ordinarily, on such
+excursions, she managed to walk with Janet Macleod&mdash;the old lady of
+Castle Dare seldom joined them&mdash;leaving Macleod to follow with her
+father; but this time she so managed it that Macleod and she left the
+house together. Was he greatly overjoyed? There was a constrained and
+anxious look on his face that had been there too much of late.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose Oscar is more at home here than in Bury Street, St. James's?&quot;
+said she, as the handsome collie went down the path before them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No doubt,&quot; said he, absently: he was not thinking of any collie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What beautiful weather we are having,&quot; said she, to this silent
+companion. &quot;It is always changing, but always beautiful. There is only
+one other aspect I should like to see&mdash;the snow time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_296" id="Page_296" />We have not much snow here,&quot; said he. &quot;It seldom lies in the winter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This was a strange conversation for two engaged lovers it was not much
+more interesting than their talk&mdash;how many ages ago?&mdash;at Charing Cross
+station. But then, when she had said to him, &quot;<i>Ought we to take
+tickets?</i>&quot; she had looked into his face with those appealing, innocent,
+beautiful eyes. Now her eyes never met his. She was afraid.</p>
+
+<p>She managed to lead up to her announcement skilfully enough. By the time
+they reached the shore an extraordinarily beautiful sunset was shining
+over the sea and the land, something so bewildering and wonderful that
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'thay'">they</ins>
+all four stopped to look at it. The Atlantic was a broad expanse
+of the palest and most brilliant green, with the pathway of the sun a
+flashing line of gold coming right across until it met the rocks, and
+there was a jet black against the glow. Then the distant islands of
+Colonsay, and Staffa, and Lunga, and Fladda lying on this shining green
+sea, appeared to be of a perfectly transparent bronze; while nearer at
+hand the long ranges of cliffs were becoming a pale rose-red under the
+darkening blue-gray sky. It was a blaze of color such as she had never
+even dreamed of as being possible in nature; nothing she had as yet seen
+in these northern latitudes had at all approached it. And as she stood
+there, and looked at those transparent islands of bronze on the green
+sea, she said to him,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know, Keith, this is not at all like the place I had imagined as
+the scene of the gloomy stories you used to tell me about the revenges
+of the clans. I have been frightened once or twice since I came here, no
+doubt, by the wild sea, and the darkness of the cathedral, and so forth;
+but the longer I stay the less I see to suggest those awful stories. How
+could you associate such an evening as this with a frightful tragedy? Do
+you think those people ever existed who were supposed to have
+suffocated, or slaughtered, or starved to death any one who opposed
+their wishes?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I do not suppose they troubled themselves much about fine sunsets,&quot;
+said he. &quot;That was not what they had to think about in those days.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps not,&quot; said she, lightly; &quot;but, you know, I had expected to find
+a place from which I could gain some inspiration for tragedy&mdash;for I
+should like to try, once for all&mdash;if I <i>should</i> have to give up the
+stage&mdash;whether I had the stuff of a tragic actress in me. And, you know,
+in that case, I <a name="Page_297" id="Page_297" />ought to dress in black velvet, and carry a taper
+through dungeons, and get accustomed to storms, and gloom, and thunder
+and lightning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We have no appliances here for the education of an actress&mdash;I am very
+sorry,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, Keith, that is hardly fair,&quot; said she, with a smile. &quot;You know it
+is only a trial. And you saw what they said of my <i>Juliet</i>. Oh, did I
+tell you about the new tragedy that is coming out?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I do not think you did,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, well, it is a great secret as yet; but there is no reason why you
+should not hear of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not anxious to hear of it,&quot; said he, without any rudeness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But it concerns me,&quot; she said, &quot;and so I must tell you. It is written
+by a brother of Mr. Lemuel, the artist I have often spoken to you about.
+He is by profession an architect; but if this play should turn out to be
+as fine as some people say it is, he ought to take to dramatic writing.
+In fact, all the Lemuels&mdash;there are three brothers of them, you
+know&mdash;are like Michael Angelo and Leonardo&mdash;artists to the finger-tips,
+in every direction&mdash;poets, painters, sculptors, and all the rest of it.
+And I do think I ought to feel flattered by their choice in asking me to
+play the heroine; for so much depends on the choice of the actress&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you are still to act?&quot; said he, quickly, though he spoke in a low
+voice, so that those behind should not hear.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Surely I explained to you?&quot; said she, in a pleasant manner. &quot;After all,
+lifelong habits are not so easily cast aside; and I knew you would be
+generous, and bear with me a little bit, Keith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He turned to her. The glow of the sunset caught his face. There was a
+strange, hopeless sadness in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Generous to you?&quot; said he. &quot;You know I would give you my life if that
+would serve you. But this is worse than taking my life from me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Keith, Keith!&quot; said she, in gentle protest, &quot;I don't know what you
+mean. You should not take things so seriously. What is it, after all? It
+was as an actress that you knew me first. What is the difference of a
+few months more or less? If I had not been an actress, you would never
+have known me&mdash;do you recollect that? By the way, has Major Stuart's
+wife got a piano?&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298" />He turned and stared at her for a second, in a bewildered way.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes,&quot; said he, with a laugh, &quot;Mrs. Stuart has got a piano; she has
+got a very good piano. And what is the song you would sing now,
+sweetheart? Shall we finish up and have done with it, with a song at the
+end? That is the way in the theatre, you know&mdash;a dance and a song as the
+people go. And what shall our song be now? There was one that Norman
+Ogilvie used to sing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know why you should talk to me like that, Keith,&quot; said she,
+though she seemed somewhat frightened by this fierce gayety. &quot;I was
+going to tell you that if Mrs. Stuart had a piano I would very gladly
+sing one or two songs for your mother and Miss Macleod when we went over
+there to-morrow. You have frequently asked me. Indeed, I have brought
+with me the very songs I sung to you the first time I saw you&mdash;at Mrs.
+Ross's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Instantly his memory flew back to that day&mdash;to the hushed little room
+over the sunlit gardens&mdash;to the beautiful, gentle, sensitive girl who
+seemed to have so strange an interest in the Highlands&mdash;to the wonderful
+thrill that went through him when she began to sing with an exquisite
+pathos, &quot;A wee bird cam' to our ha' door,&quot; and to the prouder enthusiasm
+that stirred him when she sang, &quot;I'll to Lochiel, and Appin, and kneel
+to them!&quot; These were fine, and tender, and proud songs. There was no
+gloom about them&mdash;nothing about a grave, and the dark winter-time, and a
+faithless lost love. This song of Norman Ogilvie's that he had gayly
+proposed they should sing now? What had Major Stuart, or his wife, or
+any one in Mull to do with &quot;Death's black wine?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I meant to tell you, Keith,&quot; said she, somewhat nervously, &quot;that I had
+signed an engagement to remain at the Piccadilly Theatre till Christmas
+next. I knew you wouldn't mind&mdash;I mean, you would be considerate, and
+you would understand how difficult it is for one to break away all at
+once from one's old associations. And then, you know, Keith,&quot; said she,
+shyly, &quot;though you may not like the theatre, you ought to be proud of my
+success, as even my friends and acquaintances are. And as they are all
+anxious to see me make another appearance in tragedy, I really should
+like to try it; so that when my portrait appears in the Academy next
+year, people may not be saying, 'Look at the impertinence of that girl
+appearing as a tragic actress when she can do nothing beyond the
+familiar modern comedy!' I should have told <a name="Page_299" id="Page_299" />you all about it before,
+Keith, but I know you hate to hear any talk about the theatre; and I
+sha'n't bore you again, you may depend on that. Isn't it time to go back
+now? See! the rose-color is away from Ulva now; it is quite a dark
+purple.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He turned in silence and led the way back. Behind them he could faintly
+hear Mr. White discoursing to Janet Macleod about the manner in which
+the old artists mixed their own pigments.</p>
+
+<p>Then Macleod said, with a great gentleness and restraint,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And when you go away from here,
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Gertude'">Gertrude</ins>,
+I suppose I must say
+good-by to you; and no one knows when we shall see each other again. You
+are returning to the theatre. If that is your wish, I would not try to
+thwart it. You know best what is the highest prize the world can give
+you. And how can I warn you against failure and disappointment? I know
+you will be successful. I know the people will applaud you, and your
+head will be filled with their praises. You are going forward to a new
+triumph, Gerty; and the first step you will take will be on my heart.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII" />CHAPTER XXXVII.</h2>
+
+<h3>AN UNDERSTANDING.</h3>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Pappy dear,&quot; said Miss White to her father, in a playful way, although
+it was a serious sort of playfulness, &quot;I have a vague feeling that there
+is a little too much electricity in the atmosphere of this place just at
+present. I am afraid there may be an explosion; and you know my nerves
+can't stand much of a shock. I should be glad to get away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>By this time she had quite made up that little difference with her
+father&mdash;she did not choose to be left alone at a somewhat awkward
+crisis. She had told him she was sure he had not meant what he said
+about her; and she had expressed her sorrow for having provoked him; and
+there an end. And if Mr. White had been driven by his anger to be for
+the moment the ally of Macleod, he was not disinclined to take the other
+side now and let Miss White have her own will. The vast amount of
+training he had bestowed on her <a name="Page_300" id="Page_300" />through many long years was not to be
+thrown away after all.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I told him last night,&quot; said she, &quot;of my having signed an engagement
+till Christmas next.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, indeed!&quot; said her father, quickly; looking at her over his
+spectacles.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said she, thoughtfully, &quot;and he was not so disturbed or angry as
+I had expected. Not at all. He was very kind about it. But I don't
+understand him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you not understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He has grown so strange of late&mdash;so sombre. Once, you know, he was the
+lightest-hearted young man&mdash;enjoying every minute of his life, you
+know&mdash;and really, pappy, I think&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And here Miss White stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At all events,&quot; said she, quickly, &quot;I want to be in a less dangerously
+excited atmosphere, where I can sit down and consider matters calmly. It
+was much better when he and I corresponded, then we could fairly learn
+what each other thought. Now I am almost afraid of him&mdash;I mean, I am
+afraid to ask him a question. I have to keep out of his way. And if it
+comes to that, pappy, you know, I feel now as if I was called on to act
+a part from morning till night, whereas I was always assured that if I
+left the stage and married him it was to be my natural self, and I
+should have no more need to pose and sham. However, that is an old
+quarrel between you and me, pappy, and we will put it aside. What's more
+to the purpose is this&mdash;it was half understood that when we left Castle
+Dare he was to come with us through at least a part of the Highlands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There was a talk of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't you think,&quot; said Miss White, with some little hesitation, and
+with her eyes cast down&mdash;&quot;don't you think that would be a little
+inconvenient?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should say that was for you to decide,&quot; he answered, somewhat coldly;
+for it was too bad that she should be continually asking his advice and
+then openly disregarding it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should think it would be a little uncomfortable,&quot; she said, demurely.
+&quot;I fancy he has taken that engagement till Christmas a little more to
+heart than he chooses to reveal&mdash;that is natural&mdash;I knew it would be a
+disappointment; but then, you know, pappy, the temptation was very
+great, and I had almost promised the Lemuels to do what I could for the
+piece. And if I am to give up the stage, wouldn't it be <a name="Page_301" id="Page_301" />fine to wind up
+with a blaze of fireworks to astonish the public?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you so certain you will astonish the public?&quot; her father said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have the courage to try,&quot; she answered, readily. &quot;And you are not
+going to throw cold water on my endeavors, are you, pappy? Well, as I
+was saying, it is perhaps natural for Sir Keith Macleod to feel a bit
+annoyed; and I am afraid if he went travelling with us, we should be
+continually skating on the edge of a quarrel. Besides, to tell you the
+truth, pappy&mdash;with all his kindness and gentleness, there is sometimes
+about him a sort of intensity that I scarcely like&mdash;it makes me afraid
+of him. If it were on the stage, I should say it was a splendid piece of
+acting&mdash;of the suppressed vehement kind, you know; but really&mdash;during a
+holiday-time, when one naturally wishes to enjoy the fine weather and
+gather strength for one's work&mdash;well, I do think he ought not to come
+with us, pappy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well; you can hint as much without being rude.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was thinking,&quot; said she, &quot;of the Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin who were in
+that Newcastle company, and who went to Aberdeen. Do you remember them,
+pappy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The low comedian, you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes. Well, at all events they would be glad to see us. And so&mdash;don't
+you think?&mdash;we could let Macleod understand that we were going to see
+some friends in the North? Then he would not think of coming with us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The representation would scarcely be justifiable,&quot; observed Mr. White,
+with a profound air, &quot;in ordinary circumstances. But, as you say, it
+would be neither for his comfort nor for yours that he should go with
+us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Comfort!&quot; she exclaimed. &quot;Much comfort I have had since I came here!
+Comfort I call quiet, and being let alone. Another fortnight at this
+place would give me brain fever&mdash;your life continually in danger either
+on the sea or by the cliffs&mdash;your feelings supposed to be always up at
+passion pitch&mdash;it is all a whirl of secret or declared emotions that
+don't give you a moment's rest. Oh, pappy, won't it be nice to have a
+day or two's quiet in our own home, with Carry and Marie? And you know
+Mr. Lemuel will be in town all the summer and winter. The material for
+<i>his</i> work he finds within himself. He doesn't need to scamper off like
+the rest of them to hunt out picturesque peasants and studies of
+waterfalls&mdash;trotting about the country with a note-book in hand&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_302" id="Page_302" />Gerty, Gerty,&quot; said her father, with a smile, &quot;your notions are
+unformed on that subject. What have I told you often?&mdash;that the artist
+is only a reporter. Whether he uses the pencil, or the pen, or his own
+face and voice, to express the highest thoughts and emotions of which he
+is conscious, he is only a reporter&mdash;a penny-a-liner whose words are
+written in fire. And you&mdash;don't you carry your note-book too?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was not comparing myself with an artist like Mr. Lemuel, pappy. No,
+no. Of course I have to keep my eyes open, and pick up things that may
+be useful. His work is the work of intense spiritual contemplation&mdash;it
+is inspiration&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No doubt,&quot; the father said; &quot;the inspiration of Botticelli.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Papa!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. White chuckled to himself. He was not given to joking: an epigram
+was not in consonance with his high sententiousness. But instantly he
+resumed his solemn deportment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A picture is as much a part of the world as a human face: why should I
+not take my inspiration from a picture as well as from a human face?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You mean to say he is only a copyist&mdash;a plagiarist!&quot; she said, with
+some indignation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not at all,&quot; said he. &quot;All artists have their methods founded more or
+less on the methods of those who have gone before them. You don't expect
+an artist to discover for himself an entirely new principle of art, any
+more than you expect him to paint in pigments of his own invention. Mr.
+Lemuel has been a diligent student of Botticelli&mdash;that is all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This strange talk amidst the awful loneliness and grandeur of
+Glen-Sloich! They were idly walking along the rough road: far above them
+rose the giant slopes of the mountains retreating into heavy masses of
+cloud that were moved by the currents of the morning wind. It was a gray
+day; and the fresh-water lake here was of a leaden hue, and the browns
+and greens of the mountain-side were dark and intense. There was no sign
+of human life or habitation; there was no bird singing; the deer was far
+away in the unknown valleys above them, hidden by the mystic cloud
+phantoms. There was an odor of sweet-gale in the air. The only sound was
+the murmuring of the streams that were pouring down through these vast
+solitudes to the sea.</p>
+
+<p>And now they reached a spot from whence, on turning, <a name="Page_303" id="Page_303" />they caught sight
+of the broad plain of the Atlantic&mdash;all wind-swept and white. And the
+sky was dark and low down, though at one place the clouds had parted,
+and there was a glimmer of blue as narrow and keen as the edge of a
+knife. But there were showers about; for Iona was invisible, and Staffa
+was faintly gray through the passing rain; and Ulva was almost black as
+the storm approached in its gloom. Botticelli! Those men now in that
+small lugsailed boat&mdash;far away off the point of Gometra&mdash;a tiny dark
+thing, apparently lost every second or so amidst the white Atlantic
+surge, and wrestling hard with the driving wind and sea to reach the
+thundering and foam-filled caverns of Staffa&mdash;they were not thinking
+much of Botticelli. Keith Macleod was in that boat. The evening before
+Miss White had expressed some light wish about some trifle or other, but
+had laughingly said that she must wait till she got back to the region
+of shops. Unknown to her, Macleod had set off to intercept the steamer:
+and he would go on board and get hold of the steward; and would the
+steward be so kind as to hunt about in Oban to see if that trifle could
+not be found? Macleod would not intrust so important a message to any
+one else: he would himself go out to meet the <i>Pioneer</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The sky is becoming very dark,&quot; Mr. White said; &quot;we had better go back,
+Gerty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But before they had gone far the first heavy drops were beginning to
+fall, and they were glad to run for refuge to some great gray boulders
+which lay in the moist moorland at the foot of the mountain-slopes. In
+the lee of these rocks they were in comparative safety; and they waited
+patiently until the gale of wind and rain should pass over. And what
+were these strange objects that appeared in the gray mists far along the
+valley? She touched her father's arm&mdash;she did not speak; it was her
+first sight of a herd of red-deer; and as the deer had doubtless been
+startled by a shepherd or his dog, they were making across the glen at a
+good speed. First came the hinds, running almost in Indian file, and
+then, with a longer stride, came one or two stags, their antlered heads
+high in the air, as though they were listening for sounds behind them
+and sniffing the wind in front of them at the same time. But so far away
+were they that they were only blurred objects passing through the
+rain-mists; they passed across like swift ghosts; there was no sound
+heard at all. And then the rain ceased, and the air grew warm around
+them. They came out from the shadow of the <a name="Page_304" id="Page_304" />rock&mdash;behold! a blaze of hot
+sun on the moist moors, with a sudden odor of bracken, and young
+heather, and sweet-gale all about them. And the sandy road quickly grew
+dry again; and the heavens opened; and there was a flood of sunlight
+falling on that rushing and breezy Atlantic. They walked back to Dare.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tuesday, then, shall we say, pappy?&quot; she remarked, just before
+entering.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And we are going to see some friends in Aberdeen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After this Miss White became a great deal more cheerful; and she was
+very complaisant to them all at luncheon. And quite by accident she
+asked Macleod, who had returned by this time, whether they talked Scotch
+in Aberdeen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because, you know,&quot; said she, &quot;one should always be learning on one's
+travels; and many a time I have heard people disputing about the
+pronunciation of the Scotch; and one ought to be able to read Burns with
+a proper accent. Now, you have no Scotch at all here; you don't say 'my
+dawtie,' and 'ben the hoose,' and ''twixt the gloaming and the mirk.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no,&quot; said he, &quot;we have none of the Scotch at all, except among those
+who have been for a time to Glasgow or Greenock; and our own language,
+the Gaelic, is unknown to strangers; and our way of speaking
+English&mdash;that is only made a thing to laugh at. And yet I do not laugh
+at all at the blunders of our poor people in a strange tongue. You may
+laugh at us for our way of speaking English&mdash;the accent of it; but it is
+not fair to laugh at the poor people when they will be making mistakes
+among the verbs. Did you ever hear of the poor Highlander who was asked
+how he had been employing himself, and, after a long time, he said, 'I
+wass for two years a herring fish and I wass for four months or three
+months a broke stone on the road?' Perhaps the Highlanders are not very
+clever at picking up another language; but all the same that did not
+prevent their going to all parts of the world and fighting the battles
+of other people. And do you know that in Canada there are descendants of
+the Highlanders who went there in the last century; and they are proud
+of their name and their history; and they have swords that were used at
+Falkirk and Culloden: but these Macnabs and Mackays, and Camerons, they
+speak only French! But I think, if they have Highland <a name="Page_305" id="Page_305" />blood in them,
+and if they were to hear the '<i>Failte Phrionsa!</i>' played on the pipes,
+they would recognize that language. And why were you asking about
+Aberdeen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is not a Highland but a Scotch way of answering my question,&quot; said
+she, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I beg your pardon,&quot; said he, hastily; &quot;but indeed I have never been
+to Aberdeen, and I do not know what it is they speak there; but I should
+say it was likely to be a mixture of Scotch and English, such as all the
+big towns have. I do not think it is a Highland place, like Inverness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now I will answer your question,&quot; said she. &quot;I asked you because papa
+and I propose to go there before returning to England.&quot; How quickly the
+light fell from his face! &quot;The fact is, we have some friends there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was silence. They all felt that it was for Macleod to speak; and
+they may have been guessing as to what was passing in his mind. But to
+their surprise he said, in almost a gay fashion,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, well, you know they accuse us Highland folk of being rather too
+importunate as hosts; but we will try not to harass you; and if you have
+friends in Aberdeen, it would not be fair to beg of you to leave them
+aside this time. But surely you are not thinking of going to Aberdeen
+yet, when it is many a place you have yet to see about here? I was to
+take you in the <i>Umpire</i> to Skye; and we had many a talk about the
+Lewis, too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you very much,&quot; said she, demurely. &quot;I am sure you have been most
+kind to us; but&mdash;the fact is&mdash;I think we must leave on Tuesday.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On Tuesday!&quot; said he; but it was only for an instant that he winced.
+Again he roused himself&mdash;for he was talking in the presence of his
+mother and the cousin Janet&mdash;&quot;You have not been quite fair to us,&quot; said
+he cheerfully; &quot;you have not given yourself time to make our
+acquaintance. Are you determined to go away as you came&mdash;the Fionaghal?
+But then, you know, Fionaghal came and stayed among us before she began
+to write her songs about the Western Isles; and the next time you come
+that must be for a longer time, and you will get to know us all better,
+and we will not frighten you any more by taking you on the sea at night
+or into the cathedral ruins. Ah!&quot; said he, with a smile lighting up his
+face&mdash;but it was a constrained gayety altogether. &quot;Do I know now why you
+are hurrying away so soon? You <a name="Page_306" id="Page_306" />want to avoid that trip in the <i>Umpire</i>
+to the island where I used to think I would like my grave to be&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Keith!&quot; said Lady Macleod, with a frown. &quot;How can you repeat that
+nonsense! Miss White will think you are mad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was only an old fancy, mother,&quot; said he, gently. &quot;And we were
+thinking of going out to one of the Treshnish islands, anyway. Surely it
+is a harmless thing that a man should choose out the place of his own
+grave, so long as he does not want to be put into it too soon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It will be time for you to speak of such things thirty years hence,&quot;
+said Lady Macleod.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thirty years is a long time,&quot; said he; and then he added, lightly, &quot;but
+if we do not go out to the Treshnish islands, we must go somewhere else
+before the Tuesday; and would you go round to Loch Sunart now? or shall
+we drive you to-morrow to see Glen More and Loch Buy? And you must not
+leave Mull without
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'visting'">visiting</ins>
+our beautiful town&mdash;and capital&mdash;that is
+Tobermory.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Every one was quite surprised and pleased to find Macleod taking the
+sudden departure of his sweetheart in this fashion; it showed that he
+had abundant confidence in the future. And if Miss White had her own
+thoughts about the matter, it was at all events satisfactory to her that
+outwardly Macleod and she were parting on good terms.</p>
+
+<p>But that evening he happened to find her alone for a few moments; and
+all the forced cheerfulness had left his eyes, and there was a dark look
+there&mdash;of hopeless anxiety and pain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not wish to force you, Gerty&mdash;to persecute you,&quot; said he. &quot;You are
+our guest. But before you go away, cannot you give me one definite word
+of promise and hope&mdash;only one word?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am quite sure you don't want to persecute me, Keith,&quot; said she, &quot;but
+you should remember there is a long time of waiting before us, and there
+will be plenty of opportunity for explaining and arranging everything
+when we have leisure to write&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To write!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;But I am coming to see you, Gerty! Do you
+think I could go through another series of long months, with only those
+letters, and letters, and letters to break one's heart over? I could not
+do it again. Gerty. And when you have visited your friends in Aberdeen,
+I am coming lo London.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_307" id="Page_307" />Why, Keith, there is the shooting!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not think I shall try the shooting this year&mdash;it is an anxiety&mdash;I
+cannot have patience with it. I am coming to London, Gerty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, very well, Keith,&quot; said she, with an affectation of cheerful
+content; &quot;then there is no use in our taking a solemn good-by just
+now&mdash;is there? You know how I hate scenes. And we shall part very good
+friends, shall we not? And when you come to London, we shall make up all
+our little differences, and have everything on a clear understanding. Is
+it a bargain? Here comes your cousin Janet&mdash;now show her that we are
+good friends, Keith! And, for goodness' sake, don't say that you mean to
+give up your shooting this year, or she will wonder what I have made of
+you. Give up your shooting! Why, a woman would as soon give up her right
+of being incomprehensible and whimsical and capricious&mdash;her right of
+teasing people, as I very much fear I have been teasing you, Keith. But
+it will be all set right when you come to London.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And from that moment to the moment of her departure Miss White seemed to
+breathe more freely, and she took less care to avoid Keith Macleod in
+her daily walks and ways. There was at last quite a good understanding
+between them, as the people around imagined.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" />CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>AFRAID.</h3>
+
+
+<p>But the very first thing she did on reaching home again was to write to
+Macleod begging him to postpone his visit to London. What was the use?
+The company of which she formed a part was most probably going on an
+autumn tour; she was personally very busy. Surely it would not much
+interest him to be present at the production of a new piece in
+Liverpool?</p>
+
+<p>And then she pointed out to him that, as she had her duties and
+occupations, so ought he to have. It was monstrous his thought of
+foregoing the shooting that year. Why, if he wanted some additional
+motive, what did he say to pre<a name="Page_308" id="Page_308" />serving as much grouse-plumage as would
+trim a cloak for her? It was a great pity that the skins of so beautiful
+a bird should be thrown away. And she desired him to present her kind
+regards to Lady Macleod and to Miss Macleod; and to thank them both for
+their great kindness.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately after writing that letter Miss White seemed to grow very
+light-hearted indeed, and she laughed and chatted with Carry, and was
+exceedingly affectionate toward her sister.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what do you think of your own home now, Gerty?&quot; said Miss Carry,
+who had been making some small experiments in arrangement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You mean, after my being among the savages?&quot; said she. &quot;Ah, it is too
+true, Carry. I have seen them in their war-paint; and I have shuddered
+at their spears; and I have made voyages in their canoes. But it is
+worth while going anywhere and doing anything in order to come back and
+experience such a sense of relief and quiet. Oh, what a delicious
+cushion! where did you get it, Carry?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She sank back in the rocking-chair out on this shaded veranda. It was
+the slumbering noontide of a July day the foliage above and about the
+Regent's Canal hung motionless in the still sunlight; and there was a
+perfume of roses in the air. Here, at last, was repose. She had said
+that her notion of happiness was to be let alone; and&mdash;now that she had
+despatched that forbidding letter&mdash;she would be able to enjoy a quiet
+and languor free from care.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aha, Gerty, don't you know?&quot; said the younger sister. &quot;Well, I suppose,
+you poor creature, you don't know&mdash;you have been among the tigers and
+crocodiles so long. That cushion is a present from Mr. Lemuel to me&mdash;to
+me, mind, not to you&mdash;and he brought it all the way from Damascus some
+years ago. Oh, Gerty, if I was only three years older, shouldn't I like
+to be your rival, and have a fight with you for him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know what you mean,&quot; said the elder sister, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, don't you! Poor, innocent thing! Well, I am not going to quarrel
+with you this time, for at last you are showing some sense. How you ever
+could have thought of Mr. Howson, or Mr. Brook, or you know whom&mdash;I
+never could imagine; but here is some one now whom people have heard
+of&mdash;some one with fame like yourself&mdash;who will understand you. Oh Gerty,
+hasn't he lovely eyes?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_309" id="Page_309" />Like a gazelle,&quot; said the other. &quot;You know what Mr. &mdash;&mdash; said&mdash;that he
+never met the appealing look of Mr. Lemuel's eyes without feeling in his
+pockets for a biscuit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He wouldn't say anything like that about you, Gerty,&quot; Carry said
+reproachfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who wouldn't?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Lemuel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Carry, don't you understand that I am so glad to be allowed to talk
+nonsense? I have been all strung up lately&mdash;like the string of a violin.
+Everything <i>au grand serieux</i> I want to be idle, and to chat, and to
+talk nonsense. Where did you get that bunch of stephanotis?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Lemuel brought it last evening. He knew you were coming home
+to-day. Oh Gerty, do you know I have seen your portrait, though it isn't
+finished yet; and you look&mdash;you look like an inspired prophetess. I
+never saw anything so lovely!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed!&quot; said Miss White, with a smile; but she was pleased.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When the public see that, they will know what you are really like,
+Gerty&mdash;instead of buying your photograph in a shop from a collection of
+ballet-dancers and circus women. That is where you ought to be&mdash;in the
+Royal Academy: not in a shop-window with any mountebank. Oh, Gerty, do
+you know who is your latest rival in the stationers' windows? The woman
+who dresses herself as a mermaid and swims in a transparent tank, below
+water&mdash;Fin-fin they call her. I suppose you have not been reading the
+newspapers?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not much.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is a fine collection for you upstairs. And there is an article
+about you in the <i>Islington Young Men's Improvement Association</i>. It is
+signed <i>Trismegistus</i>. Oh, it is beautiful, Gerty&mdash;quite full of poetry!
+It says you are an enchantress striking the rockiest heart, and a well
+of pure emotion springs up. It says you have the beauty of Mrs. Siddons
+and the genius of Rachel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, you don't half believe in yourself, Gerty,&quot; said the younger
+sister, with a critical air. &quot;It is the weak point about you. You
+depreciate yourself, and you make light of other people's belief in you.
+However, you can't go against your own genius. That is too strong for
+you. As soon as you get on the stage, then you forget to laugh at
+yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_310" id="Page_310" />Really, Carry, has papa been giving you a lecture about me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, laugh away? but you know it is true. And a woman like you&mdash;you were
+going to throw yourself away on a&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Carry! There are some things that are better not talked about,&quot; said
+Gertrude White, curtly, as she rose and went indoors.</p>
+
+<p>Miss White betook herself to her professional and domestic duties with
+much alacrity and content, for she believed that by her skill as a
+letter-writer she could easily ward off the importunities of her too
+passionate lover. It is true that at times, and in despite of her
+playful evasion, she was visited by a strange dread. However far away,
+the cry of a strong man in his agony had something terrible in it. And
+what was this he wrote to her in simple and calm words?&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are our paths diverging, Gerty? and if that is so, what will be the end
+of it for me and for you? Are you going away from me? After all that has
+passed, are we to be separated in the future, and you will go one way
+and I must go the other way, with all the world between us, so that I
+shall never see you again? Why will you not speak? You hint of lingering
+doubts and hesitations. Why have you not the courage to be true to
+yourself&mdash;to be true to your woman's heart&mdash;to take your life in your
+own hands, and shape it so that it shall be worthy of you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Well, she did speak in answer to this piteous prayer. She was a skilful
+letter-writer:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It may seem very ungrateful in an actress, you know, dear Keith, to
+contest the truth of anything said by Shakespeare; but I don't think,
+with all humility, there ever was so much nonsense put into so small a
+space as there is in these lines that everybody quotes at your head&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;To thine own self be true<br /></span>
+<span>And it must follow, as the night the day<br /></span>
+<span>Thou canst not then be false to any man.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&quot;'Be true to yourself,' people say to you. But surely every one who is
+conscious of failings, and deceitfulness, and unworthy instincts, would
+rather try to be a little better than himself? Where else would there be
+any improvement, in an individual or in society? You have to fight
+against yourself, instead of blindly yielding to your wish of the
+moment. I know I, for one, should not like to trust myself. I wish to be
+better than I am&mdash;to be other than I am&mdash;and I naturally <a name="Page_311" id="Page_311" />look around
+for help and guidance. Then, you find people recommending you absolutely
+diverse ways of life, and with all show of authority and reason, too;
+and in such an important matter ought not one to consider before making
+a final choice?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss White's studies in mental and moral science, as will readily be
+perceived, had not been of a profound character. But he did not stay to
+detect the obvious fallacy of her argument. It was all a maze of words
+to him. The drowning man does not hear questions addressed to him. He
+only knows that the waters are closing over him, and there is no arm
+stretched out to save.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not know myself for two minutes together,&quot; she wrote. &quot;What is my
+present mood, for example? Why, one of absolute and ungovernable
+hatred&mdash;hatred of the woman who would take my place if I were to retire
+from the stage. I have been thinking of it all the morning&mdash;picturing
+myself as an unknown nonentity, vanished from the eyes of the public, in
+a social grave. And I have to listen to people praising the new actress;
+and I have to read columns about her in the papers; and I am unable to
+say, 'Why, all that and more was written and said about me!' What has an
+actress to show for herself if once she leaves the stage? People forget
+her the next day; no record is kept of her triumphs. A painter, now, who
+spends years of his life in earnest study&mdash;it does not matter to him
+whether the public applaud or not, whether they forget or not. He has
+always before him these evidences of his genius; and among his friends
+he can choose his fit audience. Even when he is an old man, and
+listening to the praise of all the young fellows who have caught the
+taste of the public, he can, at all events, show something of his work
+as testimony of what he was. But an actress, the moment she leaves the
+stage, is a snuffed-out candle. She has her stage-dresses to prove that
+she acted certain parts; and she may have a scrap-book with cuttings of
+criticisms from the provincial papers! You know, dear Keith, all this is
+very heart-sickening; and I am quite aware that it will trouble you, as
+it troubles me, and sometimes makes me ashamed of myself; but then it is
+true, and it is better for both of us that it should be known. I could
+not undertake to be a hypocrite all my life. I must confess to you,
+whatever be the consequences, that I distinctly made a mistake when I
+thought it was such an easy thing to adopt a whole new set of opinions
+and tastes and habits. The old Adam, <a name="Page_312" id="Page_312" />as your Scotch ministers would
+say, keeps coming back, to jog my elbow as an old familiar friend. And
+you would not have me conceal the fact from you? I know how difficult it
+will be for you to understand or sympathize with me. You have never been
+brought up to a profession, every inch of your progress in which you
+have to contest against rivals; and you don't know how jealous one is of
+one's position when it is gained. I think I would rather be made an old
+woman or sixty to-morrow morning, than get up and go out and find my
+name printed in small letters in the theatre-bills. And if I try to
+imagine what my feelings would be if I were to retire from the stage,
+surely that is in your interest as well as mine. How would you like to
+be tied for life to a person who was continually looking back to her
+past career with regret, and who was continually looking around her for
+objects of jealous and envious anger? Really, I try to do my duty by
+everybody. All the time I was at Castle Dare I tried to picture myself
+living there, and taking an interest in the fishing, and the farms, and
+so on; and if I was haunted by the dread that, instead of thinking about
+the fishing and the farms, I should be thinking of the triumphs of the
+actress who had taken my place in the attention of the public, I had to
+recognize the fact. It is wretched and pitiable, no doubt; but look at
+my training. If you tell me to be true to myself&mdash;that is myself. And at
+all events I feel more contented that I have made a frank-confession.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Surely it was a fair and reasonable letter? But the answer that came to
+it had none of its pleasant common-sense. It was all a wild appeal&mdash;a
+calling on her not to fall away from the resolves she had made&mdash;not to
+yield to those despondent moods. There was but the one way to get rid of
+her doubts and hesitations; let her at once cast aside the theatre, and
+all its associations and malign influences, and become his wife, and he
+would take her by the hand and lead her away from that besetting
+temptation. Could she forget the day on which she gave him the red rose?
+She was a woman; she could not forget.</p>
+
+<p>She folded up the letter and held it in her hand, and went into her
+father's room. There was a certain petulant and irritated look on her
+face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He says he is coming up to London, papa,&quot; said she, abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you mean Sir Keith Macleod,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, of course. And can you imagine anything more <a name="Page_313" id="Page_313" />provoking&mdash;just at
+present, when we are rehearsing this new play, and when all the time I
+can afford Mr. Lemuel wants for the portrait? I declare the only time I
+feel quiet, secure, safe from the interference of anybody, and more
+especially the worry of the postman, is when I am having that portrait
+painted; the intense stillness of the studio is delightful, and you have
+beautiful things all around you. As soon as I open the door, I come out
+into the world again, with constant vexations and apprehensions all
+around. Why, I don't know but that at any minute Sir Keith Macleod may
+not come walking up to the gate!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And why should that possibility keep you in terror?&quot; said her father,
+calmly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, not in terror,&quot; said she, looking down, &quot;but&mdash;but anxiety, at
+least; and a very great deal of anxiety. Because I know he will want
+explanations, and promises, and I don't know what&mdash;just at the time I am
+most worried and unsettled about everything I mean to do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her father regarded her for a second or two.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well?&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Isn't that enough?&quot; she said, with some indignation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said he, coldly, &quot;you have merely come to me to pour out your tale
+of wrongs. You don't want me to interfere, I suppose. Am I to condole
+with you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know why you should speak to me like that, at all events,&quot; said
+she.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I will tell you,&quot; he responded, in the same cool, matter of fact
+way. &quot;When you told me you meant to give up the theatre and marry Sir
+Keith Macleod, my answer was that you were likely to make a mistake. I
+thought you were a fool to throw away your position as an actress; but I
+did not urge the point. I merely left the matter in your own hands.
+Well, you went your own way. For a time your head was filled with
+romance&mdash;Highland chieftains, and gillies, and red-deer, and baronial
+halls, and all that stuff; and no doubt you persuaded that young man
+that you believed in the whole thing fervently, and there was no end to
+the names you called theatres and everybody connected with them. Not
+only that, but you must needs drag me up to the Highlands to pay a visit
+to a number of strangers with whom both you and I lived on terms of
+apparent hospitality and goodwill, but in reality on terms of very great
+restraint. Very well. You begin to discover that your romance was a
+<a name="Page_314" id="Page_314" />little bit removed from the actual state of affairs&mdash;at least, you say
+so&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I say so!&quot; she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hear me out,&quot; the father said, patiently. &quot;I don't want to offend you,
+Gerty, but I wish to speak plainly. You have an amazing faculty for
+making yourself believe anything that suits you. I have not the least
+doubt but that you have persuaded yourself that the change in your
+manner toward Keith Macleod was owing to your discovering that their way
+of life was different from what you expected; or perhaps that you still
+had a lingering fancy for the stage&mdash;anything you like. I say you could
+make yourself believe anything. But I must point out to you that any
+acquaintance of yours&mdash;an outsider&mdash;would probably look on the marked
+attentions Mr. Lemuel has been paying you; and on your sudden conversion
+to the art-theories of himself and his friends; and on the revival of
+your ambitious notions about tragedy&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You need say no more,&quot; said she, with her face grown quickly red, and
+with a certain proud impatience in her look.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, but I mean to say more,&quot; her father said, quietly, &quot;unless you
+wish to leave the room. I mean to say this&mdash;that when you have persuaded
+yourself somehow that you would rather reconsider your promise to Sir
+Keith Macleod&mdash;am I right?&mdash;that it does seem rather hard that you
+should grow ill-tempered with him and accuse him of being the author of
+your troubles and vexations. I am no great friend of his&mdash;I disliked his
+coming here at the outset; but I will say he is a manly young fellow,
+and I know he would not try to throw the blame of any change in his own
+sentiments on to some one else. And another thing I mean to say is&mdash;that
+your playing the part of the injured Griselda is not quite becoming,
+Gerty: at all events, I have no sympathy with it. If you come and tell
+me frankly that you have grown tired of Macleod, and wish somehow to
+break your promise to him, then I can advise you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what would you advise, then,&quot; said she, with equal calmness,
+&quot;supposing that you choose to throw all the blame on me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would say that it is a woman's privilege to be allowed to change her
+mind; and that the sooner you told him so the better.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very simple!&quot; she said, with a flavor of sarcasm in her tone. &quot;Perhaps
+you don't know that man as I know him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_315" id="Page_315" />Then you <i>are</i> afraid of him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She was silent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;These are certainly strange relations between two people who talk of
+getting married. But, in any case, he cannot suffocate you in a cave,
+for you live in London; and in London it is only an occasional young man
+about Shoreditch who smashes his sweetheart with a poker when she
+proposes to marry somebody else. He might, it is true, summon you for
+breach of promise; but he would prefer not to be laughed at. Come, come,
+Gerty, get rid of all this nonsense. Tell him frankly the position, and
+don't come bothering me with pretended wrongs and injuries.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think I ought to tell him?&quot; said she, slowly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She went away and wrote to Macleod; but she did not wholly explain her
+position. She only begged once more for time to consider her own
+feelings. It would be better that he should not come just now to London.
+And if she were convinced, after honest and earnest questioning of
+herself, that she had not the courage and strength of mind necessary for
+the great change in her life she had proposed, would it not be better
+for his happiness and hers that the confession should be made?</p>
+
+<p>Macleod did not answer that letter, and she grew alarmed. Several days
+elapsed. One afternoon, coming home from rehearsal, she saw a card lying
+on the tray on the hall-table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Papa,&quot; said she, with her face somewhat paler than usual, &quot;Sir Keith
+Macleod is in London!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX" />CHAPTER XXXIX.</h2>
+
+<h3>A CLIMAX.</h3>
+
+
+<p>She was alone in the drawing-room. She heard the bell ring, and the
+sound of some one being let in by the front door. Then there was a man's
+step in the passage outside. The craven heart grew still with dread.</p>
+
+<p>But it was with a great gentleness that he came forward to her, and took
+both of her trembling hands, and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_316" id="Page_316" />Gerty, you do not think that I have come to be angry with you&mdash;not
+that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He could not but see with those anxious, pained, tender eyes of his that
+she was very pale; and her heart was now beating so fast&mdash;after the
+first shock of fright&mdash;that for a second or two she could not answer
+him. She withdrew her hands. And all this time he was regarding her face
+with an eager, wistful intensity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is&mdash;so strange&mdash;for me to see you again,&quot; said he, almost in a
+bewildered way. &quot;The days have been very long without you&mdash;I had almost
+forgotten what you were like. And now&mdash;and now&mdash;oh, Gerty, you are not
+angry with me for troubling you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She withdrew a step and sat down.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is a chair,&quot; said she. He did not seem to understand what she
+meant. He was trying to read her thoughts in her eyes, in her manner, in
+the pale face; and his earnest gaze did not leave her for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know you must be greatly troubled and worried, Gerty; and&mdash;and I
+tried not to come; but your last letter was like the end of the world
+for me. I thought everything might go then. But then I said, 'Are you a
+man, and to be cast down by that? She is bewildered by some passing
+doubt; her mind is sick for the moment; you must go to her, and recall
+her, and awake her to herself; and you will see her laugh again!' And so
+I am here, Gerty; and if I am troubling you at a bad time&mdash;well, it is
+only for a moment or two; and you will not mind that? You and I are so
+different, Gerty! You are all-perfect. You do not want the sympathy of
+any one. You are satisfied with your own thinkings; you are a world to
+yourself. But I cannot live without being in sympathy with you. It is a
+craving&mdash;it is like a fire&mdash;Well, I did not come here to talk about
+myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sorry you took so much trouble,&quot; she said, in a low voice&mdash;and
+there was a nervous restraint in her manner. &quot;You might have answered my
+letter, instead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your letter!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;Why Gerty, I could not talk to the letter.
+It was not yourself. It was no more part of yourself than a glove. You
+will forget that letter, and all the letters that ever you wrote; let
+them go away like the leaves of former autumns that are quite forgotten;
+and instead of the letters, be yourself&mdash;as I see you
+now&mdash;proud-spirited and noble&mdash;my beautiful Gerty&mdash;my wife!&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317" />He make a step forward and caught her hand. She did not see that there
+were sudden tears in the imploring eyes. She only knew that this
+vehemence seemed to suffocate her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Keith,&quot; said she, and she gently disengaged her hand, &quot;will you sit
+down, and we can talk over this matter calmly, if you please; but I
+think it would have been better if you left us both to explain ourselves
+in writing. It is difficult to say certain things without giving
+pain&mdash;and you know I don't wish to do that&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know,&quot; said he, with an absent look on his face; and he took the
+chair she had indicated, and sat down beside her; and now he was no
+longer regarding her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is quite true that you and I are different,&quot; said she, with a
+certain resolution in her tone, as if she was determined to get through
+with a painful task&mdash;&quot;very seriously different in everything&mdash;in our
+natures, and habits, and opinions, and all the rest of it. How we ever
+became acquainted I don't know; I am afraid it was not a fortunate
+accident for either of us. Well&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here she stopped. She had not prepared any speech; and she suddenly
+found herself without a word to say, when words, words, words were all
+she eagerly wanted in order to cover her retreat. And as for him, he
+gave her no help. He sat silent&mdash;his eyes downcast&mdash;a tired and haggard
+look on his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; she resumed, with a violent effort, &quot;I was saying, perhaps we
+made a mistake in our estimates of each other. That is a very common
+thing; and sometimes people find out in time, and sometimes they don't.
+I am sure you agree with me, Keith?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, Gerty,&quot; he answered, absently.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And then&mdash;and then&mdash;I am quite ready to confess that I may have been
+mistaken about myself; and I am afraid you encouraged the mistake. You
+know, I am quite sure, I am not the heroic person you tried to make me
+believe I was. I have found myself out, Keith; and just in time before
+making a terrible blunder. I am very glad that it is myself I have to
+blame. I have got very little resolution. 'Unstable as water'&mdash;that is
+the phrase: perhaps I should not like other people to apply it to me;
+but I am quite ready to apply it to myself; for I know it to be true;
+and it would be a great pity if any one's life were made miserable
+through my fault. Of course, I thought for a time that I was a very
+courageous and resolute person&mdash;you flattered me into believing <a name="Page_318" id="Page_318" />it; but
+I have found myself out since. Don't you understand, Keith?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He gave a sign of assent; his silence was more embarrassing than any
+protest or appeal.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I could choose such a wife for you, Keith!&mdash;a wife worthy of you&mdash;a
+woman as womanly as you are manly; and I can think of her being proud to
+be your wife, and how all the people who came to your house would admire
+and love her&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked up in a bewildered way.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty,&quot; he said, &quot;I don't quite know what it is you are speaking about.
+You are speaking as if some strange thing had come between us; and I was
+to go one way, and you another, through all the years to come. Why, that
+is all nonsense! See! I can take your hand&mdash;that is the hand that gave
+me the red rose. You said you loved me, then; you cannot have changed
+already. I have not changed. What is there that would try to separate
+us? Only words, Gerty!&mdash;a cloud of words humming round the ears and
+confusing one. Oh, I have grown heart-sick of them in your letters,
+Gerty; until I put the letters away altogether, and I said, 'They are no
+more than the leaves of last autumn: when I see Gerty, and take her
+hand, all the words will disappear then.' Your hand is not made of
+words, Gerty; it is warm and kind, and gentle&mdash;it is a woman's hand. Do
+you think words are able to make me let go my grasp of it? I put them
+away&mdash;I do not hear any more of them. I only know that you are beside
+me, Gerty; and I hold your hand!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was no longer the imploring lover: there was a strange elation, a
+sort of triumph, in his tone.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, Gerty, do you know why I have come to London? It is to carry you
+off&mdash;not with the pipes yelling to drown your screams, as Flora
+Macdonald's mother was carried off by her lover, but taking you by the
+hand, and waiting for the smile on your face. That is the way out of all
+our troubles, Gerty: we shall be plagued with no more words then. Oh, I
+understand it all, sweetheart&mdash;your doubts of yourself, and your
+thinking about the stage: it is all a return of the old and evil
+influences that you and I thought had been shaken off forever. Perhaps
+that was a little mistake; but no matter. You will shake them off now,
+Gerty. You will show yourself to have the courage of a woman. It is but
+one step, and you are free! Gerty,&quot; said he, with a smile on his face,
+&quot;do you know what that is?&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319" />He took from his pocket a printed document, and opened it. Certain
+words there that caught her eye caused her to turn even paler than she
+had been; and she would not even touch the paper. He put it back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you frightened, sweetheart? No! You will take this one step, and
+you will see how all those fancies and doubts will disappear forever!
+Oh, Gerty, when I got this paper into my pocket to-day, and came out
+into the street, I was laughing to myself; and a poor woman said, 'You
+are very merry, sir; will you give a poor old woman a copper?' 'Well,' I
+said, 'here is a sovereign for you, and perhaps you will be merry
+too?'&mdash;and I would have given every one a sovereign, if I had had it to
+give. But do you know what I was laughing at?&mdash;I was laughing to think
+what Captain Macallum would do when you went on board as my wife. For he
+put up the flags for you when you were only a visitor coming to Dare;
+but when I take you by the hand, Gerty, as you are going along the
+gangway, and when we get on to the paddle-box, and Captain Macallum
+comes forward, and when I tell him that you are now my wife, why, he
+will not know what to do to welcome you! And Hamish, too&mdash;I think Hamish
+will go mad that day. And then, sweetheart, you will go along to
+Erraidh, and you will go up to the signal-house on the rocks, and we
+will fire a cannon to tell the men at Dubh-Artach to look out. And what
+will be the message you will signal to them, Gerty, with the great white
+boards? Will you send them your compliments, which is the English way?
+Ah, but I know what they will answer to you. They will answer in the
+Gaelic; and this will be the answer that will come to you from the
+lighthouse&mdash;'<i>A hundred thousand welcomes to the young bride!</i>' And you
+will soon learn the Gaelic, too; and you will get used to our rough
+ways: and you will no longer have any fear of the sea. Some day you will
+get so used to us that you will think the very sea-birds to be your
+friends, and that they know when you are going away and when you are
+coming back, and that they know you will not allow any one to shoot at
+them or steal their eggs in the springtime. But if you would rather not
+have our rough ways, Gerty, I will go with you wherever you please&mdash;did
+I not say that to you, sweetheart? There are many fine houses in
+Essex&mdash;I saw them when I went down to Woodford with Major Stuart. And
+for your sake I would give up the sea altogether; and I would think no
+more about boats; and I would go to Essex <a name="Page_320" id="Page_320" />with you if I was never to
+see one of the sea-birds again. That is what I will do for your sake,
+Gerty, if you wish; though I thought you would be kind to the poor
+people around us at Dare, and be proud of their love for you, and get
+used to our homely ways. But I will go into Essex, if you like,
+Gerty&mdash;so that the sea shall not frighten you; and you will never be
+asked to go into one of our rough boats any more. It shall be just as
+you wish, Gerty; whether you want to go away into Essex, or whether you
+will come away with me to the North, that I will say to Captain
+Macallum, 'Captain Macallum, what will you do, now that the English lady
+has been brave enough to leave her home and her friends to live with us?
+and what are we to do now to show that we are proud and glad of her
+coming?'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Well, tears did gather in her eyes as she listened to this wild,
+despairing cry, and her hands were working nervously with a book she had
+taken from the table; but what answer could she make. In self-defence
+against this vehemence she adopted an injured air.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Really, Keith,&quot; said she, in a low voice, &quot;you do not seem to pay any
+attention to anything I say or write. Surely I have prepared you to
+understand that my consent to what you propose is quite impossible&mdash;for
+the present, at least? I asked for time to consider.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know&mdash;I know,&quot; said he. &quot;You would wait, and let those doubts close
+in upon you. But here is a way to defeat them all. Sweetheart, why do
+you not rise and give me your hand, and say 'Yes?' There would be no
+more doubts at all!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But surely, Keith, you must understand me when I say that rushing into
+a marriage in this mad way is a very dangerous thing. You won't look or
+listen to anything I suggest. And really&mdash;well, I think you should have
+some little consideration for me&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He regarded her for a moment with a look almost of wonder; and then he
+said, hastily,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps you are right, Gerty; I should not have been so selfish.
+But&mdash;but you cannot tell how I have suffered&mdash;all through the
+night-time, thinking and thinking&mdash;and saying to myself that surely you
+could not be going away from me&mdash;and in the morning, oh! the emptiness
+of all the sea and the sky, and you not there to be asked whether you
+would go out to Colonsay, or round to Loch Scridain, or go to see the
+rock-pigeons fly out of the caves. It is not a long <a name="Page_321" id="Page_321" />time since you were
+with us Gerty; but to me it seems longer than half a dozen of winters;
+for in the winter I said to myself, 'Ah, well, she is now working off
+the term of her imprisonment in the theatre; and when the days get long
+again, and the blue skies come again, she will use the first of her
+freedom to come and see the sea-birds about Dare.' But this last time,
+Gerty&mdash;well, I had strange doubts and misgivings; and sometimes I
+dreamed in the night-time that you were going away from me
+altogether&mdash;on board a ship&mdash;and I called to you and you would not even
+turn your head. Oh, Gerty, I can see you now as you were then&mdash;your head
+turned partly aside; and strangers round you; and the ship was going
+farther and farther away; and if I jumped into the sea, how could I
+overtake you? But at least the waves would come over me, and I should
+have forgetfulness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, but you seem to think that my letters to you had no meaning
+whatever,&quot; said she, almost petulantly. &quot;Surely I tried to explain
+clearly enough what our relative positions were?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You had got back to the influence of the theatre, Gerty&mdash;I would not
+believe the things you wrote. I said, 'You will go now and rescue her
+from herself. She is only a girl; she is timid; she believes the foolish
+things that are said by the people around her.' And then, do you know,
+sweetheart,&quot; said he, with a sad smile on his face, &quot;I thought if I were
+to go and get this paper, and suddenly show it to you&mdash;well, it is not
+the old romantic way, but I thought you would frankly say 'Yes!' and
+have an end of all this pain. Why, Gerty, you have been many a romantic
+heroine in the theatre; and you know they are not long in making up
+their minds. And the heroines in our old songs, too: do you know the
+song of Lizzie Lindsay, who 'kilted her coats o' green satin,' and was
+off to the Highlands before any one could interfere with her? That is
+the way to put an end to doubts. Gerty, be a brave woman! Be worthy of
+yourself! Sweetheart, have you the courage now to 'kilt your coats o'
+green satin?' And I know that in the Highlands you will have as proud a
+welcome as ever Lord Ronald Macdonald gave his bride from the South.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the strange smile went away from his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am tiring you, Gerty,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you are very much excited, Keith,&quot; said she; &quot;and you won't
+listen to what I have to say. I think your <a name="Page_322" id="Page_322" />coming to London was a
+mistake. You are giving both of us a great deal of pain; and, as far as
+I can see, to no purpose. We could much better have arrived at a proper
+notion of each other's feelings by writing; and the matter is so serious
+as to require consideration. If it is the business of a heroine to
+plunge two people into lifelong misery, without thinking twice about it,
+then I am not a heroine. Her 'coats o' green satin!'&mdash;I should like to
+know what was the end of that story. Now really, dear Keith, you must
+bear with me if I say that I have a little more prudence than you, and I
+must put a check on your headstrong wishes. Now I know there is no use
+in our continuing this conversation: you are too anxious and eager to
+mind anything I say. I will write to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty,&quot; said he, slowly, &quot;I know you are not a selfish or cruel woman;
+and I do not think you would willingly pain any one. But if you came to
+me and said, 'Answer my question, for it is a question of life or death
+to me,' I should not answer that I would write a letter to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may call me selfish, if you like,&quot; said she, with some show of
+temper, &quot;but I tell you once for all that I cannot bear the fatigue of
+interviews such as this, and I think it was very inconsiderate of you to
+force it on me. And as for answering a question, the position we are in
+is not to be explained with a 'Yes' or a 'No'&mdash;it is mere romance and
+folly to speak of people running away and getting married; for I suppose
+that is what you mean. I will write to you if you like, and give you
+every explanation in my power. But I don't think we shall arrive at any
+better understanding by your accusing me of selfishness or cruelty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if it comes to that,&quot; she continued, with a flush of angry daring
+in her face, &quot;perhaps I could bring a similar charge against you, with
+some better show of reason.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That I was ever selfish or cruel as regards you!&quot; said he, with a vague
+wonder, as if he had not heard aright.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall I tell you, then,&quot; said she, &quot;as you seem bent on recriminations?
+Perhaps you thought I did not understand?&mdash;that I was too frightened to
+understand? Oh, I knew very well!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know what you mean!&quot; said he, in absolute bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What!&mdash;not the night we were caught in the storm in crossing to
+Iona?&mdash;and when I clung to your arm, you shook <a name="Page_323" id="Page_323" />me off, so that you
+should be free to strike for yourself if we were thrown into the water?
+Oh, I don't blame you! It was only natural. But I think you should be
+cautious in accusing others of selfishness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he stood looking at her, with something like fear in his
+eyes&mdash;fear and horror, and a doubt as to whether this thing was
+possible; and then came the hopeless cry of a breaking heart,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh God, Gerty! I thought you loved me&mdash;and you believed <i>that!&quot;</i></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL" />CHAPTER XL.</h2>
+
+<h3>DREAMS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>This long and terrible night: will it never end? Or will not life itself
+go out, and let the sufferer have rest? The slow and sleepless hours
+toil through the darkness; and there is a ticking of a clock in the
+hushed room; and this agony of pain still throbbing and throbbing in the
+breaking heart. And then, as the pale dawn shows gray in the windows,
+the anguish of despair follows him even into the wan realms of sleep,
+and there are wild visions rising before the sick brain. Strange visions
+they are; the confused and seething phantasmagoria of a shattered life;
+himself regarding himself as another figure, and beginning to pity this
+poor wretch who is not permitted to die. &quot;Poor wretch&mdash;poor wretch!&quot; he
+says to himself. &quot;Did they use to call you Macleod; and what is it that
+has brought you to this?&quot;</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>See now! He lays his head down on the warm heather, on this beautiful
+summer day, and the seas are all blue around him; and the sun is shining
+on the white sands of Iona. Far below, the men are singing &quot;<i>Fhir a
+bhata</i>,&quot; and the sea birds are softly calling. But suddenly there is a
+horror in his brain, and the day grows black, for an adder has stung
+him!&mdash;it is <i>Righinn</i>&mdash;the Princess&mdash;the Queen of Snakes. Oh why does
+she laugh, and look at him so with that clear, cruel look? He would
+rather not go into this still house where the lidless-eyed creatures are
+lying in their <a name="Page_324" id="Page_324" />awful sleep. Why does she laugh? Is it a matter for
+laughing that a man should be stung by an adder, and all his life grow
+black around him? For it is then that they put him in a grave; and
+she&mdash;she stands with her foot on it! There is moonlight around; and the
+jackdaws are wheeling overhead; our voices sound hollow in these dark
+ruins. But you can hear this, sweetheart: shall I whisper it to you?
+&quot;<i>You are standing on the grave of Macleod.</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Lo! the grave opens! Why, Hamish, it was no grave at all, but only the
+long winter; and now we are all looking at a strange thing away in the
+south, for who ever saw all the beautiful flags before that are
+fluttering there in the summer wind? Oh, sweetheart!&mdash;your hand&mdash;give me
+your small, warm, white hand! See! we will go up the steep path by the
+rocks; and here is the small white house; and have you never seen so
+great a telescope before? And is it all a haze of heat over the sea; or
+can you make out the quivering phantom of the lighthouse&mdash;the small gray
+thing out at the edge of the world? Look! they are signalling now; they
+know you are here; come out, quick! to the great white boards; and we
+will send them over a message&mdash;and you will see that they will send back
+a thousand welcomes to the young bride. Our ways are poor; we have no
+satin bowers to show you, as the old songs say&mdash;but do you know who are
+coming to wait on you? The beautiful women out of the old songs are
+coming to be your handmaidens: I have asked them&mdash;I saw them in many
+dreams&mdash;I spoke gently to them, and they are coming. Do you see them?
+There is the bonnie Lizzie Lindsay, who kilted her coats o' green satin
+to be off with young Macdonald; and Burd Helen&mdash;she will come to you
+pale and beautiful; and proud Lady Maisry, that was burned for her true
+love's sake; and Mary Scott of Yarrow, that set all men's hearts aflame.
+See, they will take you by the hand. They are the Queen's Maries. There
+is no other grandeur at Castle Dare.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Is this Macleod? They used to say that Macleod was a man! They used to
+say he had not much fear of anything; but this is only a poor trembling
+boy, a coward trembling at everything, and going away to London with a
+lie on his lips. And they know how Sholto Macleod died, and how Roderick
+Macleod died, and Ronald, and Duncan the Fair-haired, and Hector, but
+the last of them&mdash;this poor wretch&mdash;<a name="Page_325" id="Page_325" />what will they say of him? &quot;Oh, he
+died for the love of a woman!&quot; She struck him in the heart; and he could
+not strike back, for she was a woman. Ah, but if it was a man now! They
+say the Macleods are all become sheep; and their courage has gone; and
+if they were to grasp even a Rose-leaf they could not crush it. It is
+dangerous to say that; do not trust to it. Oh, it is you, you poor fool
+in the newspaper, who are whirling along behind the boat? Does the
+swivel work? Are the sharks after you? Do you hear them behind you
+cleaving the water? The men of Dubh-Artach will have a good laugh when
+we whisk you past. What! you beg for mercy?&mdash;come out, then, you poor
+devil! Here is a tarpaulin for you. Give him a glass of whiskey, John
+Cameron. And so you know about theatres; and perhaps you have ambition,
+too; and there is nothing in the world so fine as people clapping their
+hands? But you&mdash;even you&mdash;if I were to take you over in the dark, and
+the storm came on, you would not think that I thrust you aside to look
+after myself? You are a stranger; you are helpless in boats: do you
+think I would thrust you aside? It was not fair&mdash;oh, it was not fair? If
+she wished to kill my heart, there were other things to say than that.
+Why, sweetheart, don't you know that I got the little English boy out of
+the water; and you think I would let you drown! If we were both drowning
+now, do you know what I should do? I should laugh, and say, &quot;Sweetheart,
+sweetheart, if we were not to be together in life, we are now in death,
+and that is enough for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>What is the slow sad sound that one hears? The grave is on the lonely
+island; there is no one left on the island now; there is nothing but the
+grave. &quot;<i>Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and
+is full of misery.</i>&quot; Oh no, not that! That is all over; the misery is
+over, and there is peace. This is the sound of the sea-birds, and the
+wind coming over the seas, and the waves on the rocks. Or is it Donald,
+in the boat going back to the land? The people have their heads bent; it
+is a Lament the boy is playing. And how will you play the <i>Cumhadh na
+Cloinne</i> to-night, Donald?&mdash;and what will the mother say? It is six sons
+she has to think of now; and Patrick Mor had but seven dead when he
+wrote the Lament of the Children. Janet, see to her! Tell her it is no
+matter now; the peace has come; the misery is over; there is only the
+quiet sound of the waves. <a name="Page_326" id="Page_326" />But you, Donald, come here. Put down your
+pipes, and listen. Do you remember the English lady who was here in the
+summer-time; and your pipes were too loud for her, and were taken away?
+She is coming again. She will try to put her foot on my grave. But you
+will watch for her coming, Donald; and you will go quickly to Hamish;
+and Hamish will go down to the shore and send her back. You are only a
+boy, Donald; she would not heed you; and the ladies at the Castle are
+too gentle, and would give her fair words; but Hamish is not afraid of
+her&mdash;he will drive her back; she shall not put her foot on my grave, for
+my heart can bear no more pain.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>And are you going away&mdash;<i>Rose-leaf</i>&mdash;<i>Rose-leaf</i>&mdash;are you sailing away
+from me on the smooth waters to the South? I put out my hand to you; but
+you are afraid of the hard hands of the Northern people, and you shrink
+from me. Do you think we would harm you, then, that you tremble so? The
+savage days are gone. Come&mdash;we will show you the beautiful islands in
+the summer-time; and you will take high courage, and become yourself a
+Macleod; and all the people will be proud to hear of Fionaghal, the Fair
+Stranger, who has come to make her home among us. Oh, our hands are
+gentle enough when it is a Rose-leaf they have to touch. There was blood
+on them in the old days; we have washed it off now: see&mdash;this beautiful
+red rose you have given me is not afraid of rough hands! We have no
+beautiful roses to give you, but we will give you a piece of white
+heather, and that will secure to you peace and rest and a happy heart
+all your days. You will not touch it, sweetheart? Do not be afraid!
+There is no adder in it. But if you were to find, now, a white adder,
+would you know what to do with it? There was a sweetheart in an old song
+knew what to do with an adder. Do you know the song? The young man goes
+back to his home, and he says to his mother, &quot;Oh make my bed soon; for
+I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doon.&quot; Why do you turn so
+pale, sweetheart? There is the whiteness of a white adder in your
+cheeks; and your eyes&mdash;there is death in your eyes! &quot;Donald!&mdash;Hamish!
+help! help!&mdash;her foot is coming near to my grave!&mdash;my heart&mdash;!&quot;</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>And so, in a paroxysm of wild terror and pain, he awoke again; and
+behold, the ghastly white daylight was in the <a name="Page_327" id="Page_327" />room&mdash;the cold glare of a
+day he would fain have never seen! It was all in a sort of dream that
+this haggard-faced man dressed, and drank a cup of tea, and got outside
+into the rain. The rain, and the noise of the cabs, and the gloom of
+London skies; these harsh and commonplace things were easier to bear
+than the dreams of the sick brain. And then, somehow or other, he got
+his way down to Aldershot, and sought out Norman Ogilvie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Macleod!&quot; Ogilvie cried&mdash;startled beyond measure by his appearance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I&mdash;I wanted to shake hands with you, Ogilvie, before I am going,&quot; said
+this hollow-eyed man, who seemed to have grown old.</p>
+
+<p>Ogilvie hesitated for a second or two; and then he said, vehemently,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Macleod, I am not a sentimental chap&mdash;but&mdash;but&mdash;hang it! it is
+too bad. And again and again I have thought of writing to you, as your
+friend, just within the last week or so; and then I said to myself that
+tale-bearing never came to any good. But she won't darken Mrs. Ross's
+door again&mdash;that I know. Mrs. Ross went straight to her the other day.
+There is no nonsense about that woman. And when she got to understand
+that the story was true, she let Miss White know that she considered you
+to be a friend of hers, and that&mdash;well, you know how women give hints&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I don't know what you mean, Ogilvie!&quot; he cried, quite bewildered.
+&quot;Is it a thing for all the world to know? What story is it&mdash;when I knew
+nothing till yesterday?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you know now: I saw by your face a minute ago that she had told
+you the truth at last,&quot; Ogilvie said. &quot;Macleod, don't blame me. When I
+heard of her being about to be married, I did not believe the story&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod sprang at him like a tiger, and caught his arm with the grip of
+a vise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Her getting married?&mdash;to whom?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, don't you know?&quot; Ogilvie said, with his eyes staring. &quot;Oh yes, you
+must know. I see you know! Why, the look in your face when you came into
+this room&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who is the man, Ogilvie?&quot;&mdash;and there was the sudden hate of ten
+thousand devils in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, it is that artist fellow&mdash;Lemuel. You don't mean to say she hasn't
+told you? It is the common story! And Mrs. Ross thought it was only a
+piece of nonsense&mdash;she said they were always making out those stories
+about act<a name="Page_328" id="Page_328" />resses&mdash;but she went to Miss White. And when Miss White could
+not deny it, Mrs. Ross said there and then they had better let their
+friendship drop. Macleod, I would have written to you&mdash;upon my soul, I
+would have written to you&mdash;but how could I imagine you did not know? And
+do you really mean to say she has not told you anything of what has been
+going on recently&mdash;what was well known to everybody?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And this young man spoke in a passion, too; Keith Macleod was his
+friend. But Macleod himself seemed, with some powerful effort of will,
+to have got the better of his sudden and fierce hate; he sat down again;
+he spoke in a low voice, but there was a dark look in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said he, slowly, &quot;she has not told me all about it. Well, she did
+tell me about a poor creature&mdash;a woman-man&mdash;a thing of affectation, with
+his paint-box and his velvet coat, and his furniture. Ogilvie, have you
+got any brandy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Ogilvie rang, and got some brandy, some water, a tumbler, and a
+wineglass placed on the table. Macleod, with a hand that trembled
+violently, filled the tumbler half full of brandy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And she could not deny the story to Mrs. Ross?&quot; said he, with a strange
+and hard smile on his face. &quot;It was her modesty. Ah, you don't know,
+Ogilvie, what an exalted soul she has. She is full of idealisms. She
+could not explain all that to Mrs. Ross. <i>I</i> know. And when she found
+herself too weak to carry out her aspirations, she sought help. Is that
+it? She would gain assurance and courage from the woman-man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He pushed the tumbler away; his hand was still trembling violently.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will not touch that Ogilvie,&quot; said he, &quot;for I have not much mastery
+over myself. I am going away now&mdash;I am going back now to the
+Highlands&mdash;oh! you do not know what I have become since I met that
+woman&mdash;a coward and a liar! They wouldn't have you sit down at the
+mess-table, Ogilvie, if you were that, would they? I dare not stay in
+London now. I must run away now&mdash;like a hare that is hunted. It would
+not be good for her or for me that I should stay any longer in London.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He rose and held out his hand; there was a curious glazed look on his
+eyes. Ogilvie pressed him back into the chair again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are not going out in this condition, Macleod?&mdash;<a name="Page_329" id="Page_329" />you don't know what
+you are doing! Come now, let us be reasonable; let us talk over the
+thing like men. And I must say, first of all, that I am heartily glad of
+it, for your sake. It will be a hard twist at first; but, bless you!
+lots of fellows have had to fight through the same thing, and they come
+up smiling after it, and you would scarcely know the difference. Don't
+imagine I am surprised&mdash;oh no. I never did believe in that young woman;
+I thought she was a deuced sight too clever; and when she used to go
+about humbugging this one and the other with her innocent airs, I said
+to myself, 'Oh, it's all very well: but <i>you</i> know what you are about.'
+Of course there was no use talking to you. I believe at one time Mrs.
+Ross was considering the point whether she ought not to give you a
+hint&mdash;seeing that you had met Miss White first at her house&mdash;that the
+young lady was rather clever at flirtation, and that you ought to keep a
+sharp lookout. But then you would only have blazed up in anger. It was
+no use talking to you. And then, after all, I said that if you were so
+bent on marrying her, the chances were that you would have no
+difficulty, for I thought the bribe of her being called Lady Macleod
+would be enough for any actress. As for this man Lemuel, no doubt he is
+a very great man, as people say; but I don't know much about these
+things myself; and&mdash;and&mdash;I think it is very plucky of Mrs. Ross to cut
+off two of her lions at one stroke. It shows she must have taken an
+uncommon liking for you. So you must cheer up, Macleod. If woman take a
+fancy to you like that, you'll easily get a better wife than Miss White
+would have made. Mind you, I don't go back from anything I ever said of
+her. She is a handsome woman, and no mistake; and I will say that she is
+the best waltzer that I ever met with in the whole course of my
+life&mdash;without exception. But she's the sort of woman who, if I married
+her, would want some looking after&mdash;I mean, that is my impression. The
+fact is, Macleod, away there in Mull you have been brought up too much
+on books and your own imagination. You were ready to believe any pretty
+woman, with soft English ways, an angel. Well, you have had a twister;
+but you'll come through it; and you will get to believe, after all, that
+women are very good creatures just as men are very good creatures, when
+you get the right sort. Come now, Macleod, pull yourself together;
+Perhaps I have just as hard an opinion of her conduct towards you as you
+have yourself. But you know what Tommy Moore, or some fellow like that
+says&mdash;'Though she be not fair to me, <a name="Page_330" id="Page_330" />what the devil care I how fair she
+be?' And if I were you, I would have a drop of brandy&mdash;but not half a
+tumblerful.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But neither Lieutenant Ogilvie's pert common-sense, nor his apt and
+accurate quotation, nor the proffered brandy, seemed to alter much the
+mood of this haggard-faced man. He rose.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I am going now,&quot; said he, in a low voice. &quot;You won't take it
+unkindly, Ogilvie, that I don't stop to talk with you: it is a strange
+story you have told me&mdash;I want time to think over it. Good-by!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The fact is, Macleod,&quot; Ogilvie stammered, as he regarded his friend's
+face, &quot;I don't like to leave you. Won't you stay and dine with our
+fellows? or shall I see if I can run up to London with you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, thank you, Ogilvie,&quot; said he. &quot;And have you any message for the
+mother and Janet?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I hope you will remember me most kindly to them. At least, I will
+go to the station with you, Macleod.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you, Ogilvie; but I would rather go alone. Good-by, now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He shook hands with his friend, in an absent sort of way, and left. But
+while yet his hand was on the door, he turned and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, do you remember my gun that has the shot barrel and the rifle
+barrel?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, certainly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And would you like to have that, Ogilvie?&mdash;we sometimes had it when we
+were out together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think I would take your gun from you, Macleod?&quot; said the other.
+&quot;And you will soon have plenty of use for it now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-by, then, Ogilvie,&quot; said he, and he left, and went out into the
+world of rain, and lowering skies, and darkening moors.</p>
+
+<p>And when he went back to Dare it was a wet day also; but he was very
+cheerful; and he had a friendly word for all whom he met; and he told
+the mother and Janet that he had got home at last, and meant to go no
+more a-roving. But that evening, after dinner, when Donald began to play
+the Lament for the memory of the five sons of Dare, Macleod gave a sort
+of stifled cry, and there were tears running down his cheeks&mdash;which was
+a strange thing for a man; and he rose and left the hall, just as a
+woman would have done. And his mother sat there, cold, and pale, and
+trembling; <a name="Page_331" id="Page_331" />but the gentle cousin Janet called out, with a piteous
+trouble in her eyes,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, auntie, have you seen the look on our Keith's face, ever since he
+came ashore to-day?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know it, Janet,&quot; said she. &quot;I have seen it. That woman has broken his
+heart; and he is the last of my six brave lads!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They could not speak any more now; for Donald had come up the hall; and
+he was playing the wild, sad wail of the <i>Cumhadh-na-Cloinne</i>.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI" />CHAPTER XLI.</h2>
+
+<h3>A LAST HOPE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Those sleepless nights of passionate yearning and despair&mdash;those days of
+sullen gloom, broken only by wild cravings for revenge that went through
+his brain like spasms of fire&mdash;these were killing this man. His face
+grew haggard and gray; his eyes morose and hopeless; he shunned people
+as if he feared their scrutiny; he brooded over the past in a silence he
+did not wish to have broken by any human voice. This was no longer
+Macleod of Dare. It was the wreck of a man&mdash;drifting no one knew
+whither.</p>
+
+<p>And in those dark and morbid reveries there was no longer any
+bewilderment. He saw clearly how he had been tricked and played with. He
+understood now the coldness she had shown on coming to Dare; her desire
+to get away again; her impatience with his appeals; her anxiety that
+communication between them should be solely by letter. &quot;Yes, yes,&quot; he
+would say to himself&mdash;and sometimes he would laugh aloud in the solitude
+of the hills, &quot;she was prudent. She was a woman of the world, as Stuart
+used to say. She would not quite throw me off&mdash;she would not be quite
+frank with me&mdash;until she had made sure of the other. And in her trouble
+of doubt, when she was trying to be better than herself, and anxious to
+have guidance, <i>that</i> was the guide she turned to&mdash;the woman-man, the
+dabbler in paint-boxes, the critic of carpets and wall-papers!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes he grew to hate her. She had destroyed the <a name="Page_332" id="Page_332" />world for him. She
+had destroyed his faith in the honesty and honor of womanhood. She had
+played with him as with a toy&mdash;a fancy of the brain&mdash;and thrown him
+aside when something new was presented to her. And when a man is stung
+by a white adder, does he not turn and stamp with his heel? Is he not
+bound to crush the creature out of existence, to keep God's earth and
+the free sunlight sweet and pure?</p>
+
+<p>But then&mdash;but then&mdash;the beauty of her! In dreams he heard her low, sweet
+laugh again; he saw the beautiful brown hair; he surrendered to the
+irresistible witchery of the clear and lovely eyes. What would not a man
+give for one last, wild kiss of the laughing and half-parted lips? His
+life? And if that life happened to be a mere broken and useless thing&mdash;a
+hateful thing&mdash;would he not gladly and proudly fling it away? One long,
+lingering, despairing kiss, and then a deep draught of Death's black
+wine!</p>
+
+<p>One day he was riding down to the fishing-station, when he met John
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Macintyre'">MacIntyre</ins>,
+the postman, who handed him a letter, and passed on.
+Macleod opened this letter with some trepidation, for it was from
+London; but it was in Norman Ogilvie's handwriting.</p>
+
+
+<p>&quot;<span class='smcap'>Dear Macleod</span>,&mdash;I thought you might like to hear the latest news. I cut
+the enclosed from a sort of half-sporting, half-theatrical paper our
+fellows get; no doubt the paragraph is true enough. And I wish it was
+well over and done with, and she married out of hand; for I know until
+that is so you will be torturing yourself with all sorts of projects and
+fancies. Good-by old fellow. I suppose when you offered me the gun, you
+thought your life had collapsed altogether, and that you would have no
+further use for anything. But no doubt, after the first shock, you have
+thought better of that. How are the birds? I hear rather bad accounts
+from Ross, but then he is always complaining about something.</p>
+
+<p style="text-align:right;">&quot;Yours sincerely, <span class='smcap'>Norman Ogilvie</span>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then he unfolded the newspaper cutting which Ogilvie had enclosed.
+The paragraph of gossip announced that the Piccadilly Theatre would
+shortly be closed for repairs; but that the projected provincial tour of
+the company had been abandoned. On the re-opening of the theatre, a
+play, which was now in preparation, written by Mr. Gregory Lemuel, would
+be produced. &quot;It is understood,&quot; continued the newsman, &quot;that Miss
+Gertrude White, the young and gifted <a name="Page_333" id="Page_333" />actress who has been the chief
+attraction at the Piccadilly Theatre for two years back, is shortly to
+be married to Mr. L. Lemuel, the well-known artist; but the public have
+no reason to fear the withdrawal from the stage of so popular a
+favorite, for she has consented to take the chief role in the new play,
+which is said to be of a tragic nature.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod put the letter and its enclosure into his pocket, and rode on.
+The hand that held the bridle shook somewhat; that was all.</p>
+
+<p>He met Hamish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Hamish!&quot; he cried, quite gayly. &quot;Hamish, will you go to the
+wedding?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What wedding, sir?&quot; said the old man; but well he knew. If there was
+any one blind to what had been going on, that was not Hamish; and again
+and again he had in his heart cursed the English traitress who had
+destroyed his master's peace.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, do you not remember the English lady that was here not so long
+ago? And she is going to be married. And would you like to go to the
+wedding, Hamish!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He scarcely seemed to know what he was saying in this wild way; there
+was a strange look in his eyes, though apparently he was very merry. And
+this was the first word he had uttered about Gertrude White to any
+living being at Dare ever since his last return from the South.</p>
+
+<p>Now what was Hamish's answer to this gay invitation? The Gaelic tongue
+is almost devoid of those meaningless expletives which, in other
+languages, express mere annoyance of temper; when a Highlander swears,
+he usually swears in English. But the Gaelic curse is a much more solemn
+and deliberate affair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>May her soul dwell in the lowermost hall of perdition!</i>&quot;&mdash;that was the
+answer that Hamish made; and there was a blaze of anger in the keen eyes
+and in the proud and handsome face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes,&quot; continued the old man, in his native tongue, and he spoke
+rapidly and passionately, &quot;I am only a serving-man, and perhaps a
+serving-man ought not to speak; but perhaps sometimes he will speak. And
+have I not seen it all, Sir Keith?&mdash;and no more of the pink letters
+coming; and you going about a changed man, as if there was nothing more
+in life for you? And now you ask me if I will go to the wedding? And
+what do I say to you, Sir Keith? I say <a name="Page_334" id="Page_334" />this to you&mdash;that the woman is
+not now living who will put that shame on Macleod of Dare!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod regarded the old man's angry vehemence almost indifferently; he
+had grown to pay little heed to anything around him.&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, it is a fine thing for the English lady,&quot; said Hamish, with the
+same proud fierceness, &quot;to come here and amuse herself. But she does not
+know the Mull men yet. Do you think, Sir Keith, that any one of your
+forefathers would have had this shame put upon him? I think not. I think
+he would have said, 'Come, lads, here is a proud madam that does not
+know that a man's will is stronger than a woman's will; and we will
+teach her a lesson. And before she has learned that lesson, she will
+discover that it is not safe to trifle with a Macleod of Dare.' And you
+ask me if I will go to the wedding! I have known you since you were a
+child, Sir Keith; and I put the first gun in your hand; and I saw you
+catch your first salmon: it is not right to laugh at an old man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Laughing at you Hamish? I gave you an invitation to a wedding!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if I was going to that wedding,&quot; said Hamish, with a return of that
+fierce light to the gray eyes, &quot;do you know how I would go to the
+wedding? I would take two or three of the young lads with me. We would
+make a fine party for the wedding. Oh yes, a fine party! And if the
+English church is a fine church, can we not take off our caps as well as
+any one? But when the pretty madam came in, I would say to myself, 'Oh
+yes, my fine madam, you forgot it was a Macleod you had to deal with,
+and not a child, and you did not think you would have a visit from two
+or three of the Mull lads!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what then?&quot; Macleod said, with a smile, though this picture of his
+sweetheart coming into the church as the bride of another man had paled
+his cheek.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And before she had brought that shame on the house of Dare,&quot; said
+Hamish, excitedly, &quot;do you not think that I would seize her&mdash;that I
+would seize her with my own hands? And when the young lads and I had
+thrust her down into the cabin of the yacht&mdash;oh yes, when we had thrust
+her down and put the hatch over, do you think the proud madam would be
+quite so proud?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod laughed a loud laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, Hamish, you want to become a famous person! <a name="Page_335" id="Page_335" />You would carry off a
+popular actress, and have all the country ringing with the exploit! And
+would you have a piper, too, to drown her screams&mdash;just as Macdonald of
+Armadale did when he came with his men to South Uist and carried off
+Flora Macdonald's mother?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And was there ever a better marriage than that&mdash;as I have heard many a
+man of Skye say?&quot; Hamish exclaimed, eagerly. &quot;Oh yes, it is good for a
+woman to know that a man's will is stronger than a woman's will! And
+when we have the fine English madam caged up in the cabin, and we are
+coming away to the North again, she will not have so many fine airs, I
+think. And if the will cannot be broken, it is the neck that can be
+broken; and better that than that Sir Keith Macleod should have a shame
+put on him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hamish, Hamish, how will you dare to go into the church at Salen next
+Sunday?&quot; Macleod said; but he was now regarding the old man with a
+strange curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Men were made before churches were thought of,&quot; Hamish said, curtly;
+and then Macleod laughed, and rode on.</p>
+
+<p>The laugh soon died away from his face. Here was the stone bridge on
+which she used to lean to drop pebbles into the whirling clear water.
+Was there not some impression even yet of her soft warm arm on the
+velvet moss? And what had the voice of the streamlet told him in the
+days long ago&mdash;that the summer-time was made for happy lovers; that she
+was coming; that he should take her hand and show her the beautiful
+islands and the sunlit seas before the darkening skies of the winter
+came over them. And here was the summer sea; and moist, warm odors were
+in the larch-wood; and out there Ulva was shining green, and there was
+sunlight on the islands and on the rocks of Erisgeir. But she&mdash;where was
+she? Perhaps standing before a mirror; with a dress all of white; and
+trying how orange-blossoms would best lie in her soft brown hair. Her
+arms are uplifted to her head; she smiles: could not one suddenly seize
+her now by the waist and bear her off, with the smile changed to a
+blanched look of fear? The wild pirates have got her; the Rose-leaf is
+crushed in the cruel Northern hands; at last&mdash;at last&mdash;what is in the
+scabbard has been drawn, and declared, and she screams in her terror!</p>
+
+<p>Then he fell to brooding again over Hamish's mad scheme. The fine
+English church of Hamish's imagination was no doubt a little stone
+building that a handful of sailors <a name="Page_336" id="Page_336" />could carry at a rush. And of course
+the yacht must needs be close by; for there was no land in Hamish's mind
+that was out of sight of the salt-water. And what consideration would
+this old man have for delicate fancies and studies in moral science? The
+fine madam had been chosen to be the bride of Macleod of Dare; that was
+enough. If her will would not bend, it would have to be broken; that was
+the good old way. Was there ever a happier wife than the Lady of
+Armadale, who had been carried screaming downstairs in the night-time,
+and placed in her lover's boat, with the pipes playing a wild pibroch
+all the time?</p>
+
+<p>Macleod was in the library that night when Hamish came to him with some
+papers. And just as the old man was about to leave, Macleod said to
+him,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, that was a pretty story you told me this morning, Hamish, about
+the carrying off the young English lady. And have you thought any more
+about it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have thought enough about it,&quot; Hamish said, in his native tongue.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then perhaps you could tell me, when you start on this fine expedition,
+how you are going to have the yacht taken to London? The lads of Mull
+are very clever, Hamish, I know; but do you think that any one of them
+can steer the <i>Umpire</i> all the way from Loch-na-Keal to the river
+Thames?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it the river Thames?&quot; said Hamish, with great contempt. &quot;And is that
+all&mdash;the river Thames? Do you know this, Sir Keith, that my cousin Colin
+Laing, that has a whiskey-shop now in Greenock, has been all over the
+world, and at China and other places; and he was the mate of many a big
+vessel; and do you think he could not take the <i>Umpire</i> from
+Loch-na-Keal to London? And I would only have to send a line to him and
+say, 'Colin, it is Sir Keith Macleod himself that will want you to do
+this;' and then he will leave twenty or thirty shops, ay, fifty and a
+hundred shops, and think no more of them at all. Oh yes, it is very true
+what you say Sir Keith. There is no one knows better than I the
+soundings in Loch Scridain and Loch Tua; and you have said yourself that
+there is not a bank or a rock about the islands that I do not know; but
+I have not been to London&mdash;no, I have not been to London. But is there
+any great trouble in getting to London? No, none at all, when we have
+Colin Laing on board.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod was apparently making a gay joke of the matter; but there was an
+anxious, intense look in his eyes all <a name="Page_337" id="Page_337" />the same&mdash;even when he was
+staring absently at the table before him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, Hamish,&quot; he said, laughing in a constrained manner, &quot;that would
+be a fine story to tell. And you would become very famous&mdash;just as if
+you were working for fame in a theatre; and all the people would be
+talking about you. And when you got to London, how would you get through
+the London streets?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is my cousin who would show me the way: has he not been to London
+more times than I have been to Stornoway?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But the streets of London&mdash;they would cover all the ground between here
+and Loch Scridain; and how would you carry the young lady through them?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We would carry her,&quot; said Hamish, curtly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;With the bagpipes to drown her screams?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would drown her screams myself,&quot; said Hamish, with a sudden
+savageness; and he added something that Macleod did not hear.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know that I am a magistrate, Hamish?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know it, Sir Keith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And when you come to me with this proposal, do you know what I should
+do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know what the old Macleods of Dare would have done,&quot; said Hamish,
+proudly, &quot;before they let this shame come on them. And you, Sir
+Keith&mdash;you are a Macleod, too; ay, and the bravest lad that ever was
+born in Castle Dare! And you will not suffer this thing any longer, Sir
+Keith; for it is a sore heart I have from the morning till the night;
+and it is only a serving-man that I am; but sometimes when I will see
+you going about&mdash;and nothing now cared for, but a great trouble on your
+face&mdash;oh, then I say to myself, 'Hamish, you are an old man, and you
+have not long to live; but before you die you will teach the fine
+English madam what it is to bring a shame on Sir Keith Macleod!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, well, good-night-now, Hamish; I am tired,&quot; he said; and the old man
+slowly left.</p>
+
+<p>He was tired&mdash;if one might judge by the haggard cheeks and the heavy
+eyes; but he did not go to sleep. He did not even go to bed. He spent
+the livelong night, as he had spent too many lately, in nervously pacing
+to and fro within this hushed chamber; or seated with his arms on the
+table, and the aching head resting on the clasped hands. <a name="Page_338" id="Page_338" />And again
+those wild visions came to torture him&mdash;the product of a sick heart and
+a bewildered brain; only now there was a new element introduced. This
+mad project of Hamish's at which he would have laughed in a saner mood,
+began to intertwist itself with all these passionate longings and these
+troubled dreams of what might yet be possible to him on earth; and
+wherever he turned it was suggested to him; and whatever was the craving
+and desire of the moment, this, and this only, was the way to reach it.
+For if one were mad with pain, and determined to crush the white adder
+that had stung one, what better way than to seize the hateful thing and
+cage it so that it should do no more harm among the sons of men? Or if
+one were mad because of the love of a beautiful white Princess&mdash;and she
+far away, and dressed in bridal robes: what better way than to take her
+hand and say, &quot;Quick, quick, to the shore! For the summer seas are
+waiting for you, and there is a home for the bride far away in the
+North?&quot; Or if it was only one wild, despairing effort&mdash;one last means of
+trying&mdash;to bring her heart back again? Or if there was but the one
+fierce, captured kiss of those lips no longer laughing at all? Men had
+ventured more for far less reward, surely? And what remained to him in
+life but this? There was at least the splendid joy of daring and action!</p>
+
+<p>The hours passed; and sometimes he fell into a troubled sleep as he sat
+with his head bent on his hands; but then it was only to see those
+beautiful pictures of her, that made his heart ache all the more. And
+sometimes he saw her all in sailor-like white and blue, as she was
+stepping down from the steamer; and sometimes he saw the merry Duchess
+coming forward through the ball-room, with her saucy eyes and her
+laughing and parted lips; and sometimes he saw her before a mirror; and
+again she smiled&mdash;but his heart would fain have cried aloud in its
+anguish. Then again he would start up, and look at the window. Was he
+impatient for the day?</p>
+
+<p>The lamp still burned in the hushed chamber. With trembling fingers he
+took out the letter Ogilvie had written to him, and held the slip of
+printed paper before his bewildered gaze. &quot;The young and gifted
+actress.&quot; She is &quot;shortly to be married.&quot; And the new piece that all the
+world will come to see, as soon as she is returned from her wedding
+tour, is &quot;of a tragic nature.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339" />Hamish! Hamish! do you hear these things? Do you know what they mean?
+Oh, we will have to look sharp if we are to be there in time. Come
+along, you brave lads! it is not the first time that a Macleod has
+carried off a bride. And will she cry, do you think&mdash;for we have no
+pipes to drown her screams? Ah, but we will manage it another way than
+that, Hamish! You have no cunning, you old man! There will be no scream
+when the white adder is seized and caged.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>But surely no white adder? Oh, sweetheart, you gave me a red rose! And
+do you remember the night in the garden, with the moonlight around us,
+and the favor you wore next your heart was the badge of the Macleods?
+You were not afraid of the Macleods then; you had no fear of the rude
+Northern people; you said they would not crush a pale Rose-leaf. And
+now&mdash;now&mdash;see! I have rescued you; and those people will persuade you no
+longer: I have taken you away&mdash;you are free! And will you come up on
+deck now, and look around on the summer sea? And shall we put in to some
+port, and telegraph that the runaway bride is happy enough, and that
+they will hear of her next from Castle Dare? Look around, sweetheart:
+surely you know the old boat. And here is Christina to wait on you; and
+Hamish&mdash;Hamish will curse you no more&mdash;he will be your friend now. Oh,
+you will make the mother's heart glad at last! she has not smiled for
+many a day.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Or is it the proud madam that is below, Hamish; and she will not speak;
+and she sits alone in all her finery? And what are we to do with her
+now, then, to break her will? Do you think she will speak when she is in
+the midst of the silence of the Northern seas? Or will they be after us,
+Hamish? Oh, that would be a fine chase, indeed! and we would lead them a
+fine dance through the Western Isles; and I think you would try their
+knowledge of the channels and the banks. And the painter-fellow, Hamish,
+the woman-man, the dabbler&mdash;would he be in the boat behind us? or would
+he be down below, in bed in the cabin, with a nurse to attend him? Come
+along, then!&mdash;but beware of the over-falls of Tiree, you southern men!
+Or is it a race for Barra Head; and who will be at Vatersay first! There
+is good fishing-ground on the Sgriobh bhan; Hamish; they may as well
+stop to fish as seek to catch us among our Western <a name="Page_340" id="Page_340" />Isles! See, the dark
+is coming down; are these the Monach lights in the north?&mdash;Hamish,
+Hamish, we are on the rocks!&mdash;and there is no one to help her! Oh,
+sweetheart! sweetheart!&mdash;</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The brief fit of struggling sleep is over; he rises and goes to the
+window; and now, if he is impatient for the new day, behold! the new day
+is here. Oh, see how the wan light of the morning meets the wan face! It
+is the face of a man who has been close to Death; it is the face of a
+man who is desperate. And if, after the terrible battle of the night,
+with its uncontrollable yearning and its unbearable pain, the fierce and
+bitter resolve is taken?&mdash;if there remains but this one last despairing
+venture for all that made life worth having? How wildly the drowning man
+clutches at this or that, so only that he may breathe for yet a moment
+more? He knows not what miracle may save him; he knows not where there
+is any land; but only to live&mdash;only to breath for another moment&mdash;that
+is his cry. And then, mayhap, amidst the wild whirl of waves, if he were
+suddenly to catch sight of the shore; and think that he was getting near
+to that; and see awaiting him there a white Princess, with a smile on
+her lips and a red rose in her outstretched hand. Would he not make one
+last convulsive effort before the black waters dragged him down?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII" /><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341" />CHAPTER XLII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE WHITE-WINGED DOVE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The mere thought of this action, swift, immediate, impetuous, seemed to
+give relief to the burning brain. He went outside, and walked down to
+the shore; all the world was asleep; but the day had broken fair and
+pleasant, and the sea was calm and blue. Was not that a good omen? After
+all, then, there was still the wild, glad hope that Fionaghal might come
+and live in her Northern home: the summer days had not gone forever;
+they might still find a red rose for her bosom at Castle Dare.</p>
+
+<p>And then he tried to deceive himself. Was not this a mere lover's
+stratagem. Was not all fair in love as in war? Surely she would forgive
+him, for the sake of the great love he bore her, and the happiness he
+would try to bring her all the rest of her life? And no sailor, he would
+take care, would lay his rough hand on her gentle arm. That was the
+folly of Hamish. There was no chance, in these days, for a band of
+Northern pirates to rush into a church and carry off a screaming bride.
+There were other ways than that&mdash;gentler ways; and the victim of the
+conspiracy, why, she would only laugh in the happy after-time, and be
+glad that he had succeeded. And meanwhile he rejoiced that so much had
+to be done. Oh yes, there was plenty to think about now, other than
+these terrible visions of the night. There was work to do; and the cold
+sea-air was cooling the fevered brain, so that it all seemed pleasant
+and easy and glad. There was Colin Laing to be summoned from Greenock,
+and questioned. The yacht had to be provisioned for a long voyage. He
+had to prepare the mother and Janet for his going away. And might not
+Norman Ogilvie find out somehow when the marriage was to be, so that he
+would know how much time was left him?</p>
+
+<p>But with all this eagerness and haste, he kept whispering to himself
+counsels of caution and prudence. He dared not awaken her suspicion by
+professing too much forgiveness or friendliness. He wrote to her&mdash;with
+what a trembling hand he put down those words, <i>Dear Gertrude</i>, on
+paper, and how wistfully he regarded them!&mdash;but the letter was a proud
+and <a name="Page_342" id="Page_342" />cold letter. He said that he had been informed she was about to be
+married; he wished to ascertain from herself whether that was true. He
+would not reproach her, either with treachery or deceit; if this was
+true, passionate words would not be of much avail. But he would prefer
+to be assured, one way or another, by her own hand. That was the
+substance of the letter.</p>
+
+<p>And then, the answer! He almost feared she would not write. But when
+Hamish himself brought that pink envelope to him, how his heart beat!
+And the old man stood there in silence, and with gloom on his face; was
+there to be, after all, no act of vengeance on her who had betrayed
+Macleod of Dare?</p>
+
+<p>These few words seemed to have been written with unsteady fingers. He
+read them again and again. Surely there was no dark mystery within them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<span class='smcap'>Dear Keith</span>,&mdash;I cannot bear to write to you. I do not know how it has
+all happened. Forgive me, if you can and forget me.</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: right">&quot;G.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Hamish,&quot; said he, with a strange laugh, &quot;it is an easy thing to
+forget that you have been alive? That would be an easy thing, if one
+were to ask you? But is not Colin Laing coming here to-day?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, Sir Keith,&quot; Hamish said, with his eyes lighting up eagerly; &quot;he
+will be here with the <i>Pioneer</i>, and I will send the boat out for him.
+Oh yes, and you are wanting to see him, Sir Keith?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, of course!&quot; Macleod said. &quot;If we are going away on a long voyage,
+do we not want a good pilot?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And we are going, Sir Keith?&quot; the old man said; and there was a look of
+proud triumph in the keen face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I do not know yet,&quot; Macleod said, impatiently. &quot;But you will tell
+Christina that, if we are going away to the South, we may have
+lady-visitors come on board, some day or another; and she would be
+better than a young lass to look after them, and make them comfortable
+on board. And if there is any clothes or ribbons she may want from
+Salen, Donald can go over with the pony; and you will not spare any
+money, Hamish, for I will give you the money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you will not send the boat out to the <i>Pioneer</i> till I give you a
+letter; and you will ask the clerk to be so kind <a name="Page_343" id="Page_343" />as to post it for me
+to-night at Oban; and he must not forget that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, sir,&quot; said Hamish; and he left the room, with a determined
+look about his lips, but with a glad light in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>This was the second letter that Macleod wrote; and he had to keep
+whispering to himself &quot;Caution! caution!&quot; or he would have broken into
+some wild appeal to his sweetheart far away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<span class='smcap'>Dear Gertrude</span>,&quot; he wrote, &quot;I gather from your note that it is true you
+are going to be married. I had heard some time ago, so your letter was
+no great shock to me; and what I have suffered&mdash;well, that can be of no
+interest to you now, and it will do me no good to recall it. As to your
+message, I would forgive you freely; but how can I forget? Can you
+forget? Do you remember the red rose? But that is all over now, I
+suppose; and I should not wonder if I were after all, to be able to obey
+you, and to forget very thoroughly&mdash;not that alone, but everything else.
+For I have been rather ill of late&mdash;more through sleeplessness than any
+other cause, I think; and they say I must go for a long sea-voyage; and
+the mother and Janet both say I should be more at home in the old
+<i>Umpire</i>, with Hamish and Christina, and my own people round me, than in
+a steamer; and so I may not hear of you again until you are separated
+from me forever. But I write now to ask you if you would like your
+letters returned, and one or two keepsakes, and the photographs. I would
+not like them to fall into other hands; and sometimes I feel so sick at
+heart that I doubt whether I shall ever again get back to Dare. There
+are some flowers, too; but I would ask to be allowed to keep them, if
+you have no objection; and the sketch of Ulva, that you made on the deck
+of the <i>Umpire</i>, when we were coming back from Iona, I would like to
+keep that, if you have no objection. And I remain your faithful friend,</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: right;">&quot;<span class='smcap'>Keith Macleod</span>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now, at the moment he was writing this letter, Lady Macleod and her
+niece were together; the old lady at her spinning-wheel, the younger one
+sewing; and Janet Macleod was saying,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, auntie, I am so glad Keith is going away now in the yacht! and you
+must not be vexed at all or troubled if he <a name="Page_344" id="Page_344" />stays a long time; for what
+else can make him well again? Why, you know that he has not been Keith
+at all of late,&mdash;he is quite another man&mdash;I do not think any one would
+recognize him. And surely there can be no better cure for sleeplessness
+than the rough work of the yachting; and you know Keith will take his
+share, in despite of Hamish; and if he goes away to the South, they will
+have watches, and he will take his watch with the others, and his turn
+at the helm. Oh, you will see the change when he comes back to us!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old lady's eyes had slowly filled with tears.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And do you think it is sleeplessness, Janet,&quot; said she, &quot;that is the
+matter with our Keith? Ah, but you know better than that, Janet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Janet Macleod's face grew suddenly red; but she said, hastily,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, auntie, have I not heard him walking up and down all the night,
+whether it was in his own room or in the library? And then he is out
+before any one is up: oh yes, I know that when you cannot sleep the face
+grows white and the eyes grow tired. And he has not been himself at
+all&mdash;going away like that from every one, and having nothing to say, and
+going away by himself over the moors. And it was the night before last
+he came back from
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Kinlock'">Kinloch</ins>,
+and he was wet through, and he only lay
+down on the bed, as Hamish told me, and would have slept there all the
+night, but for Hamish. And do you not think that was to get sleep at
+last that he had been walking so far, and coming through the shallows of
+Loch Scridain, too? Ah, but you will see the difference, auntie, when he
+comes back on board the <i>Umpire</i>, and we will go down to the shore, and
+we will be glad to see him that day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, Janet,&quot; the old lady said, and the tears were running down her
+face, &quot;but you know&mdash;you know. And if he had married you, Janet, and
+stayed at home at Dare, there would have been none of all this trouble.
+And now&mdash;what is there now? It is the young English lady that has broken
+his heart; and he is no longer a son to me, and he is no longer your
+cousin, Janet; but a broken-hearted man, that does not care for
+anything. And you are very kind, Janet; and you would not say any harm
+of any one. But I am his mother&mdash;I&mdash;I&mdash;well, if the woman was to come
+here this day, do you think I would not speak? It was a bad day for us
+all that he went away&mdash;instead of marrying you, Janet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you know that could never have been, auntie,&quot; said <a name="Page_345" id="Page_345" />the gentle-eyed
+cousin, though there was some conscious flush of pride in her cheeks. &quot;I
+could never have married Keith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But why, Janet?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have no right to ask me, auntie. But he and I&mdash;we did not care for
+each other&mdash;I mean, we never could have been married. I hope you will
+not speak about that any more, auntie.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And some day they will take me, too, away from Dare,&quot; said the old
+dame, and the spinning-wheel was left unheeded; &quot;and I cannot go into
+the grave with my five brave lads&mdash;for where are they all now,
+Janet?&mdash;in Arizona one, in Africa one, and two in the Crimea, and my
+brave Hector at Koniggratz. But that is not much; I shall be meeting
+them all together: and do you not think I shall be glad to see them all
+together again just as it was in the old days; and they will come to
+meet me; and they will be glad enough to have the mother with them once
+again. But, Janet, Janet, how can I go to them? What will I say to them
+when they ask about Keith&mdash;about Keith, my Benjamin, my youngest, my
+handsome lad?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old woman was sobbing bitterly; and Janet went to her and put her
+arms round her, and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, auntie, you must not think of such things. You will send Keith
+away in low spirits, if you have not a bright face and a smile for him
+when he goes away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you do not know&mdash;you do not know,&quot; the old woman said, &quot;what Keith
+has done for me. The others&mdash;oh yes, they were brave lads; and very
+proud of their name, too; and they would not disgrace their name,
+wherever they went; and if they died&mdash;that is nothing: for they will be
+together again now, and what harm is there? But Keith, he was the one
+that did more than any of them; for he stayed at home for my sake; and
+when other people were talking about this regiment and that regiment,
+Keith would not tell me what was sore at his heart; and never once did
+he say, 'Mother, I must go away like the rest,' though it was in his
+blood to go away. And what have I done now?&mdash;and what am I to say to his
+brothers when they come to ask me? I will say to them, 'Oh yes, he was
+the handsomest of all my six lads; and he had the proudest heart, too;
+but I kept him at home&mdash;and what came of it all?' Would it not be better
+now that he was lying buried in the jungle of the Gold Coast, or at
+Koniggratz, or in the Crimea?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_346" id="Page_346" />Oh, surely not, auntie! Keith will come back to us soon; and when you
+see him well and strong again, and when you hear his laugh about the
+house, surely you will not be wishing that he was in his grave? Why,
+what is the matter with you to-day, auntie?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The others did not suffer much, Janet, and to three of them, anyway, it
+was only a bullet, a cry, and then the death sleep of a brave man and
+the grave of a Macleod. But Keith, Janet&mdash;he is my youngest&mdash;he is
+nearer to my heart than any of them: do you not see his face?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, auntie,&quot; Janet Macleod said, in a low voice; &quot;but he will get over
+that. He will come back to us strong and well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, he will come back to us strong and well!&quot; said the old lady,
+almost wildly, and she rose, and her face was pale. &quot;But I think it is a
+good thing for that woman that my other sons are all away now; for they
+had quick tempers, those lads; and they would not like to see their
+brother murdered.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Murdered, auntie!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Macleod would have answered in the same wild, passionate way; but
+at this very moment her son entered. She turned quickly; she almost
+feared to meet the look of this haggard face. But Keith Macleod said,
+quite cheerfully,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well now, Janet, and will you go round to-day to look at the <i>Umpire?</i>
+And will you come too, mother? Oh, she is made very smart now; just as
+if we were all going away to see the Queen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot go to-day, Keith,&quot; said his mother; and she left the room
+before he had time to notice that she was strangely excited.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I think I will go some other day, Keith,&quot; his cousin said, gently,
+&quot;just before you start, that I may be sure you have not forgotten
+anything. And, of course, you will take the ladies' cabin, Keith, for
+yourself; for there is more light in that, and it is farther away from
+the smell of the cooking in the morning. And how can you be going
+to-day, Keith, when it is the man from Greenock will be here soon now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, I forgot that, Janet,&quot; said he, laughing in a nervous way&mdash;&quot;I
+forgot that, though I was talking to Hamish about him only a little
+while ago. And I think I might as well go out to meet the <i>Pioneer</i>
+myself, if the boat has not <a name="Page_347" id="Page_347" />left yet. Is there anything you would like
+to get from Oban, Janet?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, nothing, thank you, Keith,&quot; said she; and then he left; and he was
+in time to get into the big sailing-boat before it went out to meet the
+steamer.</p>
+
+<p>This cousin of Hamish, who jumped into the boat when Macleod's letter
+had been handed up to the clerk, was a little, black-haired Celt,
+beady-eyed, nervous, but with the affectation of a sailor's bluffness,
+and he wore rings in his ears. However, when he was got ashore, and
+taken into the library, Macleod very speedily found out that the man had
+some fair skill in navigation, and that he had certainly been into a
+good number of ports in his lifetime. And if one were taking the
+<i>Umpire</i> into the mouth of the Thames, now? Mr. Lang looked doubtfully
+at the general chart Macleod had; he said he would rather have a special
+chart, which he could get at Greenock; for there were a great many banks
+about the mouth of the Thames; and he was not sure that he could
+remember the channel. And if one wished to go farther up the river, to
+some anchorage in communication by rail with London? Oh yes, there was
+Erith. And if one would rather have moorings than an anchorage, so that
+one might slip away without trouble when the tide and wind were
+favorable? Oh yes, there was nothing simpler than that. There were many
+yachts about Erith; and surely the pier-master could get the <i>Umpire</i>
+the loan of moorings. All through Castle Dare it was understood that
+there was no distinct destination marked down for the <i>Umpire</i> on this
+suddenly-arranged voyage of hers; but all the same Sir Keith Macleod's
+inquiries went no farther, at present at least, than the river Thames.</p>
+
+<p>There came another letter in dainty pink; and this time there was less
+trembling in the handwriting, and there was a greater frankness in the
+wording <ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'of'">of</ins> the note.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<span class='smcap'>Dear Keith</span>,&quot; Miss White wrote, &quot;I would like to have the letters; as
+for the little trifles you mention, it does not much matter. You have
+not said that you forgive me; perhaps it is asking too much; but believe
+me you will find some day it was all for the best. It is better now than
+later on. I had my fears from the beginning; did not I tell you that I
+was never sure of myself for a day? and I am sure papa warned me. I
+cannot make you any requital for the <a name="Page_348" id="Page_348" />great generosity and forbearance
+you show to me now; but I would like to be allowed to remain your
+friend.</p>
+
+<p style="text-align:right;">&quot;G.W.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;P.S.&mdash;I am deeply grieved to hear of your being ill, but hope it is
+only something quite temporary. You could not have decided better than
+on taking a long sea-voyage. I hope you will have fine weather.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>All this was very pleasant. They had got into the region of
+correspondence again; and Miss White was then mistress of the situation.
+His answer to her was less cheerful in tone. It ran thus:</p>
+
+
+<p>&quot;<span class='smcap'>Dear Gertrude</span>,&mdash;To-morrow morning I leave Dare. I have made up your
+letters, etc., in a packet; but as I would like to see Norman Ogilvie
+before going farther south, it is possible that we may run into the
+Thames for a day; and so I have taken the packet with me, and, if I see
+Ogilvie, I will give it to him to put into your hands. And as this may
+be the last time that I shall ever write to you, I may tell you now
+there is no one anywhere more earnestly hopeful than I that you may live
+a long and happy life, not troubled by any thinking of what is past and
+irrevocable. Yours faithfully,</p>
+
+<p style="text-align:right;">&quot;<span class='smcap'>Keith Macleod</span>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So there was an end of correspondence. And now came this beautiful
+morning, with a fine northwesterly breeze blowing, and the <i>Umpire</i>,
+with her mainsail and jib set, and her gray pennon and ensign fluttering
+in the wind, rocking gently down there at her moorings. It was an
+auspicious morning; of itself it was enough to cheer up a heart-sick
+man. The white sea-birds were calling; and Ulva was shining green; and
+the Dutchman's Cap out there was of a pale purple-blue; while away in
+the south there was a vague silver mist of heat lying all over the Ross
+of Mull and Iona. And the proud lady of Castle Dare and Janet, and one
+or two others more stealthily, were walking down to the pier to see
+Keith Macleod set sail; but Donald was not there&mdash;there was no need for
+Donald or his pipes on board the yacht. Donald was up at the house, and
+looking at the people going down to the quay, and saying bitterly to
+himself, &quot;It is no more thought of the pipes, now, that Sir Keith has,
+ever since the English lady was at Dare; and he thinks I am better at
+work in looking after the dogs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Macleod stopped, and took out a pencil and wrote something on a
+card.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was sure I had forgotten something, Janet,&quot; said he. &quot;<a name="Page_349" id="Page_349" />That is the
+address of Johnny Wickes's mother. We were to sent him up to see her
+some time before Christmas.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Before Christmas!&quot; Janet exclaimed; and she looked at him in amazement.
+&quot;But you are coming back before Christmas, Keith!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, well, Janet,&quot; said he carelessly, &quot;you know that when one goes away
+on a voyage it is never certain about your coming back at all, and it is
+better to leave everything right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you are not going away from us with thoughts like those in your
+head, surely?&quot; the cousin said. &quot;Why, the man from Greenock says you
+could go to America in the <i>Umpire</i>; and if you could go to America,
+there will not be much risk in the calmer seas of the South. And you
+know, Keith, auntie and I don't want you to trouble about writing
+letters to us; for you will have enough trouble in looking after the
+yacht; but you will send us a telegram from the various places you put
+into.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, I will do that,&quot; said he somewhat absently. Even the bustle of
+departure and the brightness of the morning had failed to put color and
+life into the haggard face and the hopeless eyes.</p>
+
+<p>That was a sorrowful leave-taking at the shore; and Macleod, standing on
+the deck of the yacht, could see long after they had set sail, that his
+mother and cousin were still on the small quay watching the <i>Umpire</i> so
+long as she was in sight. Then they rounded the Ross of Mull, and he saw
+no more of the women of Castle Dare.</p>
+
+<p>And this beautiful white sailed vessel that is going south through the
+summer seas: surely she is no deadly instrument of vengeance, but only a
+messenger of peace? Look, now how she has passed through the Sound of
+Iona; and the white sails are shining in the light; and far away before
+her, instead of islands with which she is familiar, are other
+islands&mdash;another Colonsay altogether, and Islay, and Jura, and Scarba,
+all a pale transparent blue. And what will the men on the lonely
+Dubh-Artach rock think of her as they see her pass by? Why, surely that
+she looks like a beautiful white dove. It is a summer day; the winds are
+soft; fly south, then, White Dove, and carry to her this message of
+tenderness, and entreaty, and peace? Surely the gentle ear will listen
+to you before the winter comes and the skies grow dark overhead, and
+there is no white dove at all, but an angry sea-eagle, with black wings
+outspread and talons ready <a name="Page_350" id="Page_350" />to strike, Oh, what is the sound in the
+summer air? Is it the singing of the sea-maiden of Colonsay, bewailing
+still the loss of her lovers in other years? We cannot stay to listen;
+the winds are fair; fly southward, and still southward, oh you beautiful
+White Dove, and it is all a message of love and of peace that you will
+whisper to her ear.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII" />CHAPTER XLIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>DOVE, OR SEA-EAGLE?</h3>
+
+
+<p>But there are no fine visions troubling the mind of Hamish as he stands
+here by the tiller in eager consultation with Colin Laing, who has a
+chart outspread before him on the deck. There is pride in the old man's
+face. He is proud of the performances of the yacht he has sailed for so
+many years; and proud of himself for having brought her&mdash;always subject
+to the advice of his cousin from Greenock&mdash;in safety through the salt
+sea to the smooth waters of the great river. And, indeed, this is a
+strange scene for the <i>Umpire</i> to find around her in the years of her
+old age. For instead of the giant cliffs of Gribun and Bourg there is
+only the thin green line of the Essex coast; and instead of the rushing
+Atlantic there is the broad smooth surface of this coffee-colored
+stream, splashed with blue where the ripples catch the reflected light
+of the sky. There is no longer the solitude of Ulva and Colonsay, or the
+moaning of the waves round the lonely shores of Fladda, and Staffa, and
+the Dutchman; but the eager, busy life of the great river&mdash;a black
+steamer puffing and roaring, russet-sailed barges going smoothly with
+the ride, a tug bearing a large green-hulled Italian ship through the
+lapping waters, and everywhere a swarming fry of small boats of every
+description. It is a beautiful summer morning, though there is a pale
+haze lying along the Essex woods. The old <i>Umpire</i>, with the salt foam
+of the sea incrusted on her bows, is making her first appearance in the
+Thames.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And where are we going, Hamish,&quot; says Colin Laing, in the Gaelic, &quot;when
+we leave this place?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When you are told, then you will know,&quot; says Hamish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You had enough talk of it last night in the cabin. I <a name="Page_351" id="Page_351" />thought you were
+never coming out of the cabin,&quot; says the cousin from Greenock.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if I have a master, I obey my master without speaking,&quot; Hamish
+answers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, it is a strange master you have got. Oh, you do not know about
+these things, Hamish. Do you know what a gentleman who has a yacht would
+do when he got into Gravesend as we got in last night? Why, he would go
+ashore, and have his dinner in a hotel, and drink four or five different
+kinds of wine, and go to the theatre. But your master, Hamish, what does
+he do? He stays on board, and sends ashore for time-tables and such
+things; and what is more than that, he is on deck all night, walking up
+and down. Oh yes; I heard him walking up and down all night, with the
+yacht lying at anchor!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir Keith is not well. When a man is not well he does not act in an
+ordinary way. But you talk of my master,&quot; Hamish answered, proudly.
+&quot;Well, I will tell you about my master, Colin&mdash;that he is a better
+master than any ten thousand masters that ever were born in Greenock, or
+in London either. I will not allow any man to say anything against my
+master.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was not saying anything against your master. He is a wiser man than
+you, Hamish. For he was saying to me last night, 'Now, when I am sending
+Hamish to such and such places in London, you must go with him, and show
+him the trains, and cabs, and other things like that.' Oh yes, Hamish,
+you know how to sail a yacht; but you do not know anything about towns?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And who would want to know anything about towns? Are they not full of
+people who live by telling lies and cheating each other?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And do you say that is how I have been able to buy my house at
+Greenock,&quot; said Colin Laing, angrily, &quot;with a garden, and a boathouse,
+too?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not know about that,&quot; said Hamish; and then he called out some
+order to one of the men. Macleod was at this moment down in the saloon,
+seated at the table, with a letter enclosed and addressed lying before
+him. But surely this was not the same man who had been in these still
+waters of the Thames in the by-gone days&mdash;with gay companions around
+him, and the band playing &quot;A Highland Lad my Love was born,&quot; and a
+beautiful-eyed girl, whom he called Rose-leaf, talking to him in the
+quiet of the summer noon. <a name="Page_352" id="Page_352" />This man had a look in his eyes like that of
+an animal that has been hunted to death, and is fain to lie down and
+give itself up to its pursuers in the despair of utter fatigue. He was
+looking at this letter. The composition of it had cost him only a whole
+night's agony. And when he sat down and wrote it in the blue-gray dawn,
+what had he not cast away?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no,&quot; he was saying now to his own conscience, &quot;she will not call it
+deceiving! She will laugh when it is all over&mdash;she will call it a
+stratagem&mdash;she will say that a drowning man will catch at anything. And
+this is the last effort&mdash;but it is only a stratagem: she herself will
+absolve me, when she laughs and says, 'Oh, how could you have treated
+the poor theatres so?'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A loud rattling overhead startled him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We must be at Erith,&quot; he said to himself; and then, after a pause of a
+second, he took the letter in his hand. He passed up the companion-way.
+Perhaps it was the sudden glare of the light around that falsely gave to
+his eyes the appearance of a man who had been drinking hard; but his
+voice was clear and precise as he said to Hamish,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, Hamish, you understand everything I have told you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, Sir Keith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you will put away that nonsense from your head; and when you see
+the English lady that you remember, you will be very respectful to her,
+for she is a very great friend of mine; and if she is not at the
+theatre, you will go on to the other address, and Colin Laing will go
+with you in the cab. And if she comes back in the cab, you and Colin
+will go outside beside the driver, do you understand? And when you go
+ashore, you will take John Cameron with you, and you will ask the
+pier-master about the moorings.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, Sir Keith; have you not told me before?&quot; Hamish said, almost
+reproachfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are sure you got everything on board last night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is nothing more that I can think of, Sir Keith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here is the letter, Hamish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so he pledged himself to the last desperate venture.</p>
+
+<p>Not long after that Hamish, and Laing, and John Cameron went in the
+dingy to the end of Erith pier, and left the boat there; and went along
+to the head of the pier, and had a talk with the pier-master. Then John
+Cameron went back, and the other two went on their way to the
+railway-station.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I will tell you this, Hamish,&quot; said the little black <a name="Page_353" id="Page_353" />Celt, who
+swaggered a good deal in his walk, &quot;that when you go in the train you
+will be greatly frightened; for you do not know how strong the engines
+are, and how they will carry you through the air.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is a foolish thing to say,&quot; answered Hamish, also speaking in the
+Gaelic; &quot;for I have seen many pictures of trains; and do you say that
+the engines are bigger than the engines of the <i>Pioneer</i>, or the <i>Dunara
+Castle</i>, or the <i>Clansman</i> that goes to Stornoway? Do not talk such
+nonsense to me. An engine that runs along the road, that is a small
+matter; but an engine that can take you up the Sound of Sleat, and
+across the Minch, and all the way to Stornoway, that is an engine to be
+talked about!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But nevertheless it was with some inward trepidation that Hamish
+approached Erith station; and it was with an awestruck silence that he
+saw his cousin take tickets at the office; nor did he speak a word when
+the train came up and they entered and sat down in the carriage. Then
+the train moved off, and Hamish breathed more freely: what was this to
+be afraid of?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did I not tell you you would be frightened?&quot; Colin Laing said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not frightened at all,&quot; Hamish answered, indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>But as the train began to move more quickly, Hamish's hands, that held
+firmly by the wooden seat on which he was sitting, tightened and still
+further tightened their grasp, and his teeth got clinched, while there
+was an anxious look in his eyes. At length, as the train swung into a
+good pace, his fear got the better of him, and he called out,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Colin, Colin, she's run away?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then Colin Laing laughed aloud, and began to assume great airs; and
+told Hamish that he was no better than a lad kept for herding the sheep,
+who had never been away from his own home. This familiar air reassured
+Hamish; and then the train stopping at Abbey Wood proved to him that the
+engine was still under control.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, Hamish,&quot; continued his travelled cousin, &quot;you will open your
+eyes when you see London; and you will tell all the people when you go
+back that you have never seen so great a place; but what is London to
+the cities and the towns and the palaces that I have seen? Did you ever
+hear of Valparaiso, Hamish? Oh yes, you will live a long time before you
+will get to Valparaiso! And Rio: why, I have <a name="Page_354" id="Page_354" />known mere boys that have
+been to Rio. And you can sail a yacht very well, Hamish; and I do not
+grumble that you would be the master of the yacht, though I know the
+banks and the channels a little better than you, and it was quite right
+of you to be the master of the yacht; but you have not seen what I have
+seen. And I have been where there are mountains and mountains of gold&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you take me for a fool, Colin?&quot; said Hamish, with a contemptuous
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not quite that,&quot; said the other, &quot;but am I not to believe my own eyes?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if there were the great mountains of gold,&quot; said Hamish, &quot;why did
+you not fill your pockets with the gold? and would not that be better
+than selling whiskey in Greenock?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; and that shows what an ignorant man you are, Hamish,&quot; said the
+other, with disdain. &quot;For do you not know that the gold is mixed with
+quartz and you have got to take the quartz out? But I dare say now you
+do not know what quartz is; for it is a very ignorant man you are,
+although you can sail a yacht. But I do not grumble at all. You are
+master of your own yacht, just as I am the master of my own shop. But if
+you were coming into my shop, Hamish, I would say to you, 'Hamish, you
+are the master here, and I am not the master; and you can take a glass
+of anything that you like.' That is what people who have travelled all
+over the world, and seen princes and great cities and palaces, call
+<i>politeness</i>. But how could you know anything about <i>politeness?</i> You
+have lived only on the west coast of Mull; and they do not even know how
+to speak good Gaelic there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is a lie, Colin!&quot; said Hamish, with decision, &quot;We have better
+Gaelic there than any other Gaelic that is spoken.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Were you ever in Lochaber, Hamish?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I was never in Lochaber.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then do not pretend to give an opinion about the Gaelic&mdash;especially to
+a man who has travelled all over the world, though perhaps he cannot
+sail a yacht as well as you, Hamish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The two cousins soon became friends again, however. And now, as they
+were approaching London, a strange thing became visible. The blue sky
+grew more and more obscured. <a name="Page_355" id="Page_355" />The whole world seemed to be enveloped in
+a clear brown haze of smoke.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, ay,&quot; said Hamish, &quot;that is a strange thing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is a strange thing, Hamish?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was reading about it in a book many a time&mdash;the great fire that was
+burning in London for years and years and years, and have they not quite
+got it out yet, Colin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not know what you are talking about, Hamish,&quot; said the other, who
+had not much book-learning, &quot;but I will tell you this, that you may
+prepare yourself now to open your eyes. Oh yes, London will make you
+open your eyes wide; though it is nothing to one who has been to Rio,
+and Shanghai, and Rotterdam, and other places like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now these references to foreign parts only stung Hamish's pride, and
+when they did arrive at London Bridge he was determined to show no
+surprise whatever. He stepped into the four-wheeled cab that Colin Laing
+chartered, just as if four-wheeled cabs were as common as sea-gulls on
+the shores of Loch-na-Keal. And though his eyes were bewildered and his
+ears dinned with the wonderful sights and sounds of this great roaring
+city&mdash;that seemed to have the population of all the world pouring
+through its streets&mdash;he would say nothing at all. At last the cab
+stopped; the two men were opposite the Piccadilly Theatre.</p>
+
+<p>Then Hamish got out and left his cousin with the cab, He ascended the
+wide steps; he entered the great vestibule; and he had a letter in his
+hand. The old man had not trembled so much since he was a schoolboy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you want, my man?&quot; some one said, coming out of the box-office
+by chance. Hamish showed the letter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wass to hef an answer, sir if you please, sir, and I will be
+opliged,&quot; said Hamish, who had been enjoined to be very courteous.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Take it round to the stage entrance,&quot; said the man, carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir, if you please, sir,&quot; said Hamish; but he did not understand;
+and he stood.</p>
+
+<p>The man looked at him; called for some one: a young lad came, and to him
+was given the letter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may wait here, then,&quot; said he to Hamish; &quot;but I think rehearsal is
+over, and Miss White has most likely gone home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The man went into the box-office again; Hamish was left <a name="Page_356" id="Page_356" />alone there, in
+the great empty vestibule. The Piccadilly Theatre had seldom seen within
+its walls a more picturesque figure than this old Highlandman, who stood
+there with his sailor's cap in his hand, and with a keen excitement in
+the proud and fine face. There was a watchfulness in the gray eyes like
+the watchfulness of an eagle. If he twisted his cap rather nervously,
+and if his heart beat quick, it was not from fear.</p>
+
+<p>Now, when the letter was brought to Miss White, she was standing in one
+of the wings, laughing and chatting with the stage manager. The laugh
+went from her face. She grew quite pale.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Mr. Cartwright,&quot; said she, &quot;do you think I could go down to Erith
+and be back before six in the evening?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, why not?&quot; said he carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>But she scarcely heard him. She was still staring at that sheet of
+paper, with its piteous cry of the sick man. Only to see her once
+more&mdash;to shake hands in token of forgiveness&mdash;to say good-by for the
+last time: what woman with the heart of a woman could resist this
+despairing prayer?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where is the man who brought this letter?&quot; said she.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In front, miss,&quot; said the young lad, &quot;by the box-office.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Very quickly she made her way along the gloomy and empty corridors, and
+there in the twilit hall she found the gray-haired old sailor, with his
+cap held humbly in his hands. &quot;Oh, Hamish,&quot; said she, &quot;is Sir Keith so
+very ill?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it ill, mem?&quot; said Hamish; and quick tears sprang to the old man's
+eyes. &quot;He iss more ill than you can think of, mem; it iss another man
+that he iss now. Ay, ay, who would know him to be Sir Keith Macleod?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He wants me to go and see him; and I suppose I have no time to go home
+first&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here is the list of the trains, mem,&quot; said Hamish, eagerly, producing a
+certain card. &quot;And it iss me and Colin Laing, that's my cousin, mem; and
+we hef a cab outside; and will you go to the station? Oh, you will not
+know Sir Keith, mem; there iss no one at all would know my master now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come along, then, Hamish,&quot; said she, quickly. &quot;Oh, but he cannot be so
+ill as that. And the long sea-voyage will pull him round, don't you
+think?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, ay, mem,&quot; said Hamish; but he was paying little heed. He called up
+the cab, and Miss White stepped inside, and he and Colin Laing got on
+the box.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_357" id="Page_357" />Tell him to go quickly,&quot; she said to Hamish, &quot;for I must have
+something instead of luncheon if we have a minute at the station.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Miss White, as the cab rolled away, felt pleased with herself. It
+was a brave act.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is the least I can do for the sake of my bonny Glenogie,&quot; she was
+saying to herself, quite cheerfully. &quot;And if Mr. Lemuel were to hear of
+it? Well, he must know that I mean to be mistress of my own conduct. And
+so the poor Glenogie is really ill. I can do no harm in parting good
+friends with him. Some men would have made a fuss.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At the station they had ten minutes to wait; and Miss White was able to
+get the slight refreshment she desired. And although Hamish would fain
+have kept out of her way&mdash;for it was not becoming in a rude sailor to be
+seen speaking to so fine a lady&mdash;she would not allow that.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And where are you going, Hamish, when you leave the Thames?&quot; she asked,
+smoothing the fingers of the glove she had just put on again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not know that, mem,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope Sir Keith won't go to Torquay or any of those languid places.
+You will go to the Mediterranean, I suppose?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe that will be the place, mem,&quot; said Hamish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Or the Isle of Wight, perhaps,&quot; said she, carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, ay, mem&mdash;the Isle of Wight&mdash;that will be a ferry good place, now.
+There wass a man I wass seeing once in Tobbermorry, and he wass telling
+me about the castle that the Queen herself will hef on that island. And
+Mr. Ross, the Queen's piper, he will be living there too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But, of course, they had to part company when the train came up; and
+Hamish and Colin Laing got into a third-class carriage together. The
+cousin from Greenock had been hanging rather in the background; but he
+had kept his ears open.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, Hamish,&quot; said he, in the tongue in which they could both speak
+freely enough, &quot;I will tell you something; and do not think I am an
+ignorant man, for I know what is going on. Oh yes. And it is a great
+danger you are running into.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you mean, Colin?&quot; said Hamish; but he would look out of the
+window.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When a gentleman goes away in a yacht, does he take an old woman like
+Christina with him? Oh no; I think not. <a name="Page_358" id="Page_358" />It is not a customary thing.
+And the ladies' cabin; the ladies' cabin is kept very smart, Hamish. And
+I think I know who is to have the ladies' cabin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you are very clever, Colin,&quot; said Hamish, contemptously. &quot;But it
+is too clever you are. You think it strange that the young English lady
+should take that cabin. I will tell you this&mdash;that it is not the first
+time nor the second time that the young English lady has gone for a
+voyage in the <i>Umpire</i>, and in that very cabin too. And I will tell you
+this, Colin; that it is this very year she had that cabin; and was in
+Loch Tua, and Loch-na-Keal, and Loch Scridain, and Calgary Bay. And as
+for Christina&mdash;oh, it is much you know about fine ladies in Greenock! I
+tell you that an English lady cannot go anywhere without someone to
+attend to her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hamish, do not try to make a fool of me,&quot; said Laing angrily. &quot;Do you
+think a lady would go travelling without any luggage? And she does not
+know where the <i>Umpire</i> is going!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, then. It is Sir Keith Macleod who is the master when he is
+on board the <i>Umpire</i>, and where he wants to go the others have to go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, do you think that? And do you speak like that to a man who can pay
+eighty-five pounds a year of rent?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I do not forget that it is a kindness to me that you are doing,
+Colin; and to Sir Keith Macleod, too; and he will not forget it. But as
+for this young lady, or that young lady, what has that to do with it?
+You know what the bell of Scoon said, '<i>That which concerns you not,
+meddle not with.</i>'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall be glad when I am back in Greenock,&quot; said Colin Laing, moodily.</p>
+
+<p>But was not this a fine, fair scene that Miss Gertrude White saw around
+her when they came in sight of the river and Erith pier?&mdash;the flashes of
+blue on the water, the white-sailed yachts, the russet-sailed barges,
+and the sunshine shining all along the thin line of the Essex shore. The
+moment she set foot on the pier she recognized the <i>Umpire</i> lying out
+there, the great white mainsail and jib idly flapping in the summer
+breeze: but there was no one on deck. And she was not afraid at all; for
+had he not written in so kindly <a name="Page_359" id="Page_359" />a fashion to her; and was she not doing
+much for his sake too?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will the shock be great?&quot; she was thinking to herself. &quot;I hope my
+bonnie Glenogie is not so ill as that; for he always looked like a man.
+And it is so much better that we should part good friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She turned to Hamish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no one on the deck of the yacht, Hamish,&quot; said she.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, mem,&quot; said he, &quot;the men will be at the end of the pier, mem, in the
+boat, if you please, mem.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you took it for granted I should come back with you?&quot; said she,
+with a pleasant smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wass thinking you would come to see Sir Keith, mem,&quot; said Hamish,
+gravely. His manner was very respectful to the fine English lady; but
+there was not much of friendliness in his look.</p>
+
+<p>She followed Hamish down the rude wooden steps at the end of the pier;
+and there they found the dingy awaiting them, with two men in her.
+Hamish was very careful of Miss White's dress as she got into the stern
+of the boat; then he and Colin Laing got into the bow; and the men half
+paddled and half floated her along to the <i>Umpire</i>&mdash;the tide having
+begun to ebb.</p>
+
+<p>And it was with much ceremony, too, that Hamish assisted Miss White to
+get on board by the little gangway; and for a second or two she stood on
+deck and looked around her while the men were securing the dingy. The
+idlers lounging on Erith pier must have considered that this was an
+additional feature of interest in the summer picture&mdash;the figure of this
+pretty young lady standing there on the white decks and looking around
+her with a pleased curiosity. It was some little time since she had been
+on board the <i>Umpire</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Then Hamish turned to her, and said, in the same respectful way,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you go below, mem, now? It iss in the saloon that you will find
+Sir Keith; and if Christina iss in the way, you will tell her to go
+away, mem.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The small gloved hand was laid on the top of the companion, and Miss
+White carefully went down the wooden steps. And it
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: Word added based on context">was</ins>
+with a
+gentleness equal to her own that Hamish shut the little doors after her.</p>
+
+<p>But no sooner had she quite disappeared than the old <a name="Page_360" id="Page_360" />man's manner
+swiftly changed. He caught hold of the companion hatch, jammed it across
+with a noise that was heard throughout the whole vessel; and then he
+sprang to the helm, with the keen gray eyes afire with a wild
+excitement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;&mdash;&mdash; her, we have her now!&quot; he said, between his teeth; and he called
+aloud: &quot;Hold the jib to weather there! Off with the moorings, John
+Cameron! &mdash;&mdash; her, we have her now!&mdash;and it is not yet that she has put
+a shame on Macleod of Dare!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV" />CHAPTER XLIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE PRISONER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The sudden noise overhead and the hurried trampling of the men on deck
+were startling enough; but surely there was nothing to alarm her in the
+calm and serious face of this man who stood before her. He did not
+advance to her. He regarded her with a sad tenderness, as if he were
+looking at one far away. When the beloved dead come back to us in the
+wonder-halls of sleep, there is no wild joy of meeting: there is
+something strange. And when they disappear again, there is no surprise:
+only the dull aching returns to the heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gertrude,&quot; said he, &quot;you are as safe here as ever you were in your
+mother's arms. No one will harm you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it? What do you mean?&quot; said she, quickly.</p>
+
+<p>She was somewhat bewildered. She had not expected to meet him thus
+suddenly face to face. And then she became aware that the companion-way
+by which she had descended into the saloon had grown dark: that was the
+meaning of the harsh noise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want to go ashore, Keith,&quot; said she hurriedly. &quot;Put me on shore. I
+will speak to you there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You cannot go ashore,&quot; said he, calmly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know what you mean,&quot; said she; and her heart began to beat
+hurriedly. &quot;I tell you I want to go ashore, Keith. I will speak to you
+there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You cannot go ashore, Gertrude,&quot; he repeated. &quot;We have already left
+Erith. * * * Gerty, Gerty,&quot; he continued, <a name="Page_361" id="Page_361" />for she was struck dumb with
+a sudden terror, &quot;don't you understand now? I have stolen you away from
+yourself. There was but the one thing left: the one way of saving you.
+And you will forgive me, Gerty, when you understand it all&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She was gradually recovering from her terror. She did understand it now.
+And he was not ill at all.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you coward! you coward! you coward!&quot; she exclaimed, with a blaze of
+fury in her eyes. &quot;And I was to confer a kindness on you&mdash;a last
+kindness! But you dare not do this thing! I tell you, you dare not do
+it! I demand to be put on shore at once! Do you hear me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She turned wildly round, as if to seek for some way of escape. The door
+in the ladies' cabin stood open; the clay-light was streaming down into
+that cheerful little place; there were some flowers on the
+dressing-table. But the way by which she had descended was barred over
+and dark.</p>
+
+<p>She faced him again, and her eyes were full of fierce indignation and
+anger; she drew herself up to her full height; she overwhelmed him with
+taunts, and reproaches, and scorn. That was a splendid piece of acting,
+seeing that it had never been rehearsed. He stood unmoved before all
+this theatrical rage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, you were proud of your name,&quot; she was saying, with bitter
+emphasis; &quot;and I thought you belonged to a race of gentlemen, to whom
+lying was unknown. And you were no longer murderous and revengeful; but
+you can take your revenge on a woman, for all that! And you ask me to
+come and see you, because you are ill! And you have laid a trap&mdash;like a
+coward!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if I am what you say, Gerty,&quot; said he, quite gently, &quot;it is the
+love of you that has made me that. Oh, you do not know!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She saw nothing of the lines that pain had written on this man's face;
+she recognized nothing of the very majesty of grief in the hopeless
+eyes. He was only her gaoler, her enemy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course&mdash;of course,&quot; she said. &quot;It is the woman&mdash;it is always the
+woman who is in fault! That is a manly thing, to put the blame on the
+woman! And it is a manly thing to take your revenge on a woman! I
+thought, when a man had a rival, that it was his rival whom he sought
+out. But you&mdash;you kept out of the way&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He strode forward and caught her by the wrist. There <a name="Page_362" id="Page_362" />was a look in his
+face that for a second terrified her into silence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty,&quot; said he, &quot;I warn you! Do not mention that man to me&mdash;now or at
+any time; or it will be bad for him and for you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She twisted her hand from his grasp.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How dare you come near me!&quot; she cried.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon,&quot; said he, with an instant return to his former grave
+gentleness of manner. &quot;I wish to let you know how you are situated, if
+you will let me, Gerty. I don't wish to justify what I have done, for
+you would not hear me&mdash;just yet. But this I must tell you, that I don't
+wish to force myself on your society. You will do as you please. There
+is your cabin; you have occupied it before. If you would like to have
+this saloon, you can have that too; I mean I shall not come into it
+unless it pleases you. And there is a bell in your cabin; and if you
+ring it, Christina will answer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She heard him out patiently. Her reply was a scornful, perhaps nervous,
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, this is mere folly,&quot; she exclaimed. &quot;It is simple madness. I begin
+to believe that you are really ill, after all; and it is your mind that
+is affected. Surely you don't know what you are doing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are angry, Gerty,&quot; said he,</p>
+
+<p>But the first blaze of her wrath and indignation had passed away; and
+now fear was coming uppermost.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Surely, Keith, you cannot be dreaming of such a mad thing! Oh, it is
+impossible! It is a joke: it was to frighten me; it was to punish me,
+perhaps. Well, I have deserved it; but now&mdash;now you have succeeded; and
+you will let me go ashore, farther down the river.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her tone was altered. She had been watching his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no, Gerty; oh no,&quot; he said. &quot;Do you not understand yet? You were
+everything in the world to me; you were life itself. Without you I had
+nothing, and the world might just as well come to an end for me. And
+when I thought you were going away from me, what could I do? I could not
+reach you by letters, and letters; and how could I know what the people
+around you were saying to you? Ah, you do not know what I have suffered,
+Gerty! And always I was saying to myself that if I could get you away
+from these people, you would remember the time that you gave me the red
+rose, and all those beautiful days would come <a name="Page_363" id="Page_363" />back again, and I would
+lake your hand again, and I would forget altogether about the terrible
+nights when I saw you beside me and heard you laugh just as in the old
+times. And I knew there was only the one way left. How could I but try
+that? I knew you would be angry, but I hoped your anger would go away.
+And now you are angry, Gerty, and my speaking to you is not of much
+use&mdash;as yet; but I can wait until I see yourself again, as you used to
+be, in the garden&mdash;don't you remember, Gerty?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her face was proud, cold, implacable.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do I understand you aright: that you have shut me up in this yacht and
+mean to take me away?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty, I have saved you from yourself!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you be so kind as to tell me where we are going?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why not away back to the Highlands, Gerty?&quot; said he, eagerly. &quot;And then
+some day when your heart relents, and you forgive me, you will put your
+hand in mine, and we will walk up the road to Castle Dare. Do you not
+think they will be glad to see us that day, Gerty?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She maintained her proud attitude, but she was trembling from head to
+foot.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you mean to say that until I consent to be your wife I am not to be
+allowed to leave this yacht?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will consent Gerty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not if I were to be shut up here for a thousand years!&quot; she exclaimed,
+with another burst of passion. &quot;Oh, you will pay for this dearly! I
+thought it was madness&mdash;mere folly; but if it is true, you will rue this
+day! Do you think we are savages here? Do you think we have no law?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not care for any law,&quot; said he, simply. &quot;I can only think of the
+one thing in the world. If I have not your love, Gerty, what else can I
+care about?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My love!&quot; she exclaimed. &quot;And this is the way to earn it, truly! My
+love! If you were to keep me shut up for a thousand years, you would
+never have it! You can have my hatred, if you like, and plenty of it,
+too!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are angry, Gerty!&quot; was all he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you do not know with whom you have to deal!&quot; she continued, with
+the same bitter emphasis. &quot;You terrified me with stories of
+butchery&mdash;the butchery of innocent women and children; and no doubt you
+thought the stories were fine; and now you too would show you are one of
+the race by taking revenge on a woman. But if she is only a woman, you
+have not conquered her yet! Oh, you will find out be<a name="Page_364" id="Page_364" />fore long that we
+have law in this country, and that it is not to be outraged with
+impunity. You think you can do as you like, because you are a Highland
+master, and you have a lot of slaves round you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am going on deck now, Gerty,&quot; said he, in the same sad and gentle
+way. &quot;Shall I send Christina to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For an instant she looked bewildered, as if she had not till now
+comprehended what was going on; and she said, quite wildly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no, no, no, Keith; you don't mean what you say! You cannot mean it!
+You are only frightening me! You will put me ashore&mdash;and not a word
+shall pass my lips. We cannot be far down the river, Keith. There are
+many places where you could put me ashore, and I could get back to
+London by rail. They won't know I have ever seen you. Keith, you will
+put me ashore now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if I were to put you ashore now, you would go away, Gerty, and I
+should never see you again&mdash;never, and never. And what would that be for
+you and for me, Gerty? But now you are here, no one can poison your
+mind: you will be angry for a time; but the brighter days are coming&mdash;oh
+yes, I know that: if I was not sure of that, what would become of me? It
+is a good thing to have hope&mdash;to look forward to the glad days: that
+stills the pain at the heart. And now we two are together at last,
+Gerty! And if you are angry, the anger will pass away; and we will go
+forward together to the glad days.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She was listening in a sort of vague and stunned amazement. Both her
+anger and her fear were slowly yielding to the bewilderment of the fact
+that she was really setting out on a voyage, the end of which neither
+she nor any one living could know.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, Gerty,&quot; said he, regarding her with a strange wistfulness in the
+sad eyes, &quot;you do not know what it is to me to see you again! I have
+seen you many a time&mdash;in dreams; but you were always far away, and I
+could not take your hand. And I said to myself that you were not cruel;
+that you did not wish any one to suffer pain. And I knew if I could only
+see you again, and take you away from these people, then your heart
+would be gentle, and you would think of the time when you gave me the
+red rose, and we went out in the garden, and all the air round us was so
+full of gladness that we did not speak at all. Oh yes; and I said to
+myself that your true friends were in the North; and what would <a name="Page_365" id="Page_365" />the men
+at Dubh-Artach not do for you, and Captain Macallum too, when they knew
+you were coming to live at Dare; and I was thinking that would be a
+grand day when you came to live among us; and there would be dancing,
+and a good glass of whiskey for every one, and some playing on the pipes
+that day! And sometimes I did not know whether there would be more of
+laughing or of crying when Janet came to meet you. But I will not
+trouble you any more now, Gerty; for you are tired, I think; and I will
+send Christina to you. And you will soon think that I was not cruel to
+you when I took you away and saved you from yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer; she seemed in a sort of trance. But she was aroused
+by the entrance of Christina, who came in directly after Macleod left.
+Miss White stared at this tall white-haired woman, as if uncertain how
+to address her; when she spoke, it was in a friendly and persuasive way.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have not forgotten me, then, Christina?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, mem,&quot; said the grave Highland woman. She had beautiful, clear,
+blue-gray eyes, but there was no pity in them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you have no part in this mad freak?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old woman seemed puzzled. She said, with a sort of serious
+politeness,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not know, mem. I have not the good English as Hamish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But surely you know this,&quot; said Miss Gertrude White, with more
+animation, &quot;that I am here against my will? You understand that, surely?
+That I am being carried away against my will from my own home and my
+friends? You know it very well; but perhaps your master has not told you
+of the risk you run? Do you know what that is? Do you think there are no
+laws in this country?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir Keith he is the master of the boat,&quot; said Christina. &quot;Iss there
+anything now that I can do for you, mem?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Miss White, boldly; &quot;there is. You can help me to get
+ashore. And you will save your master from being looked on as a madman.
+And you will save yourselves from being hanged.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wass to ask you,&quot; said the old Highland woman &quot;when you would be for
+having the dinner. And Hamish, he wass saying that you will hef the
+dinner what time you are thinking of; and will you hef the dinner all by
+yourself?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tell you this, woman,&quot; said Miss White, with quick anger, &quot;that I
+will neither eat nor drink so long as I am on <a name="Page_366" id="Page_366" />board this yacht! What is
+the use of this nonsense? I wish to be put on shore. I am getting tired
+of this folly. I tell you I want to go ashore; and I am going ashore;
+and it will be the worse for any one who tries to stop me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not think you can go ashore, mem,&quot; Christina said, somewhat
+deliberately picking out her English phrases, &quot;for the gig is up at the
+davits now; and the dingy&mdash;you wass not thinking of going ashore by
+yourself in the dingy? And last night, mem, at a town, we had many
+things brought on board; and if you would tell me what you would hef for
+the dinner, there is no one more willing than me. And I hope you will
+hef very good comfort on board the yacht.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't get it into your head that you are talking nonsense!&quot; said Miss
+White, angrily. &quot;I tell you I will not go anywhere in this yacht! And
+what is the use of talking to me about dinner? I tell you I will neither
+eat nor drink while I am on board this yacht!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think that would be a ferry foolish thing, mem,&quot; Christina said,
+humbly enough; but all the same, the scornful fashion in which this
+young lady had addressed her had stirred a little of the Highland
+woman's blood; and she added&mdash;still with great apparent humility&mdash;&quot;But
+if you will not eat, they say that iss a ferry good thing for the pride;
+and there iss not much pride left if one hass nothing to eat, mem.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I presume that is to be my prison?&quot; said Miss White, haughtily, turning
+to the smart little stateroom beyond the companion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That iss your cabin, mem, if you please, mem,&quot; said Christina, who had
+been instructed in English politeness by her husband.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, now, can you understand this? Go to Sir Keith Macleod, and tell
+him that I have shut myself up in that cabin; and that I will speak not
+a word to any one; and I will neither eat nor drink until I am taken on
+shore. And so, if he wishes to have a murder on his hands, very well! Do
+you understand that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will say that to Sir Keith,&quot; Christina answered, submissively.</p>
+
+<p>Miss White walked into the cabin and locked herself in. It was an
+apartment with which she was familiar; but where had they got the white
+heather? And there were books; but she paid little heed. They would
+discover they had not broken her spirit yet.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367" />On either side the skylight overhead was open an inch; and it was
+nearer to the tiller than the skylight of the saloon. In the absolute
+stillness of this summer day she heard two men talking. Generally they
+spoke in the Gaelic, which was of course unintelligible to her; but
+sometimes they wandered into English&mdash;especially if the name of some
+English town cropped up&mdash;and thus she got hints as to the whereabouts of
+the <i>Umpire</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, it is a fine big town that town of Gravesend, to be sure,
+Hamish,&quot; said the one voice, &quot;and I have no doubt, now, that it will be
+sending a gentleman to the Houses of Parliament in London, just as
+Greenock will do. But there is no one you will send from Mull. They do
+not know much about Mull in the Houses of Parliament.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And they know plenty about ferry much worse places,&quot; said Hamish,
+proudly. &quot;And wass you saying there will be anything so beautiful about
+Greenock ass you will find at Tobbermorry?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tobermory!&quot; said the other; &quot;There are some trees at Tobermory&mdash;oh yes;
+and the Mish-nish and the shops&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yess, and the waterfahl&mdash;do not forget the waterfahl, Colin; and there
+iss better whiskey in Tobbermorry ass you will get in all Greenock,
+where they will be for mixing it with prandy and other drinks like that;
+and at Tobbermorry you will hef a Professor come all the way from
+Edinburgh and from Oban to gif a lecture on the Gaelic; but do you think
+he would gif a lecture in a town like Greenock? Oh no; he would not do
+that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, Hamish; but it is glad I am that we are going back the way
+we came.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And me, too, Colin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I will not be sorry when I am in Greenock once more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you will come with us first of all to Castle Dare, Colin,&quot; was the
+reply. &quot;And I know that Lady Macleod herself will be for shaking hands
+with you, and thanking you that you wass tek the care of the yacht.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I will stop at Greenock, Hamish. You know you can take her well
+on from Greenock. And will you go round the Mull, Hamish, or through the
+Crinan, do you think now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I am not afrait to tek her round the Moil; but there iss the
+English lady on board; and it will be smoother for her to go through the
+Crinan. And it iss ferry glad I will be, <a name="Page_368" id="Page_368" />Colin, to see Ardalanish Point
+again; for I would rather be going through the Doruis Mohr twenty times
+ass getting petween the panks of this tamned river.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here they relapsed into their native tongue, and she listened no longer;
+but, at all events, she had learned that they were going away to the
+North. And as her nerves had been somewhat shaken, she began to ask
+herself what further thing this madman might not do. The old stories he
+had told her came back with a marvellous distinctness. Would he plunge
+her into a dungeon and mock her with an empty cup when she was dying of
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'thrist'">thirst</ins>?
+Would he chain her to a rock at low-water; and watch the tide
+slowly rise? He professed great gentleness and love for her; but if the
+savage nature had broken out at last! Her fear grew apace. He had shown
+himself regardless of everything on earth: where would he stop, if she
+continued to repel him? And then the thought of her situation&mdash;alone;
+shut up in this small room; about to venture forth on the open sea with
+this ignorant crew&mdash;so overcame her that she hastily snatched at the
+bell on the dressing table and rang it violently. Almost instantly there
+was a tapping at the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I ask your pardon, mem,&quot; she heard Christina say.</p>
+
+<p>She sprang to the door and opened it, and caught the arm of the old
+woman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Christina, Christina!&quot; she said, almost wildly, &quot;you won't let them
+take me away? My father will give you hundreds and hundreds of pounds if
+only you get me ashore! Just think of him&mdash;he is an old man&mdash;if you had
+a daughter&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Miss White was acting very well indeed; though she was more concerned
+about herself than her father.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wass to say to you,&quot; Christina explained with some difficulty, &quot;that
+if you wass saying that, Sir Keith had a message sent away to your
+father, and you wass not to think any more about that. And now, mem, I
+cannot tek you ashore; is iss no business I hef with that; and I could
+not go ashore myself whateffer; but I would get you some dinner, mem.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I suppose you don't understand the English language!&quot; Miss White
+exclaimed, angrily. &quot;I tell you I will neither eat nor drink so long as
+I am on board this yacht! Go and tell Sir Keith Macleod what I have
+said.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So Miss White was left alone again; and the slow time passed; and she
+heard the murmured conversation of the men; and also a measured pacing
+to and fro, which she took <a name="Page_369" id="Page_369" />to be the step of Macleod. Quick rushes of
+feeling went through her, indignation, a stubborn obstinacy, a wonder
+over the audacity of this thing, malevolent hatred even; but all these
+were being gradually subdued by the dominant claim of hunger. Miss White
+had acted the part of many heroines; but she was not herself a
+heroine&mdash;if there is anything heroic in starvation. It was growing to
+dusk when she again summoned the old Highland-woman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get me something to eat,&quot; said she; &quot;I cannot die like a rat in a
+hole.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, mem,&quot; said Christina, in the most matter-of-fact way; for she had
+never been in a theatre in her life, and she had not imagined that Miss
+White's threat meant anything at all. &quot;The dinner is just ready now,
+mem; and if you will hef it in the saloon, there will be no one there;
+that wass Sir Keith's message to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will not have it in the saloon; I will have it here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ferry well, mem,&quot; Christina said, submissively. &quot;But you will go into
+the saloon, mem, when I will mek the bed for you, and the lamp will hef
+to be lit, but Hamish he will light the lamp for you. And are there any
+other things you wass thinking of that you would like, mem?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; I want something to eat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And Hamish, mem, he wass saying I will ask you whether you will hef the
+claret-wine, or&mdash;or&mdash;the other wine, mem, that makes a noise&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bring me some water. But the whole of you will pay dearly for this!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I ask your pardon, mem?&quot; said Christina, with great respect.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, go away, and get me something to eat!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And in fact Miss White made a very good dinner, though the things had to
+be placed before her on her dressing-table. And her rage and indignation
+did not prevent her having, after all a glass or two of the claret-wine.
+And then she permitted Hamish to come in and light the swinging lamp;
+and thereafter Christina made up one of the two narrow beds. Miss White
+was left alone.</p>
+
+<p>Many a hundred times had she been placed in great peril&mdash;on the stage;
+and she knew that on such occasions it had been her duty to clasp her
+hand on her forehead and set to work to find out how to extricate
+herself. Well, on this occasion she did not make use of any dramatic
+gesture; but she turned out the lamp, and threw herself on the top of
+this <a name="Page_370" id="Page_370" />narrow little bed; and was determined that, before they got her
+conveyed to their savage home in the North, she would make one more
+effort for her freedom. Then she heard the man at the helm begin to hum
+to himself &quot;<i>Fhir a bhata, na horo eile</i>.&quot; The night darkened. And soon
+all the wild emotions of the day were forgotten; for she was asleep.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Asleep&mdash;in the very waters through which she had sailed with her lover
+on the white summer day. But <i>Rose-leaf! Rose-leaf! what faint wind will
+carry you</i> NOW <i>to the South?</i></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV" />CHAPTER XLV.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE VOYAGE OVER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>And now the brave old <i>Umpire</i> is nearing her Northern home once more;
+and surely this is a right royal evening for the reception of her. What
+although the sun has just gone down, and the sea around them become a
+plain of heaving and wrestling blue-black waves? Far away, in that
+purple-black sea, lie long promontories that are of a still pale
+rose-color; and the western sky is a blaze of golden-green; and they
+know that the wild, beautiful radiance is still touching the wan walls
+of Castle Dare. And there is Ardalanish Point; and that the ruddy Ross
+of Mull; and there will be a good tide in the Sound of Iona. Why, then,
+do they linger, and keep the old <i>Umpire</i> with her sails flapping idly
+in the wind?</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&quot;As you pass through Jura's Sound<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bend your course by Scarba's shore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Shun, oh shun, the gulf profound<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where Corrievreckan's surges roar!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>They are in no danger of Corrievreckan now; they are in familiar waters;
+only that is another Colonsay that lies away there in the south. Keith
+Macleod, seated up at the bow, is calmly regarding it. He is quite
+alone. There is no sound around him but the lapping of the waves.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&quot;And ever as the year returns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The charm-bound sailors knows the day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For sadly still the Mermaid mourns<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The lovely chief of Colonsay.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371" />And is he listening now for the wild sound of her singing? Or is he
+thinking of the brave Macphail, who went back after seven long months of
+absence, and found the maid of Colonsay still true to him? The ruby ring
+she had given him had never paled. There was one woman who could remain
+true to her absent lover.</p>
+
+<p>Hamish came forward.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will we go on now, sir?&quot; said he, in the Gaelic.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hamish looked round. The shining clear evening looked very calm,
+notwithstanding the tossing of the blue-black waves. And it seemed
+wasteful to the old sailor to keep the yacht lying-to or aimlessly
+sailing this way and that while this favorable wind remained to them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not sure that the breeze will last, Sir Keith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you sure of anything, Hamish?&quot; Macleod said, quite absently. &quot;Well,
+there is one thing we can all make sure of. But I have told you, Hamish,
+I am not going up the Sound of Iona in daylight: why, there is not a man
+in all the islands who would not know of our coming by to-morrow
+morning. We will go up the Sound as soon as it is dark. It is a new moon
+to-night; and I think we can go without lights, Hamish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Dunara</i> is coming south to-night, Sir Keith,&quot; the old man said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, Hamish, you seem to have lost all your courage as soon as you put
+Colin Laing ashore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Colin Laing! Is it Colin Laing!&quot; exclaimed Hamish, indignantly. &quot;I will
+know how to sail this yacht, and I will know the banks, and the tides,
+and the rocks better than any fifteen thousands of Colin Laings!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what if the <i>Dunara</i> is coming south? If she cannot see us, we can
+see her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But whether it was that Colin Laing had, before leaving the yacht,
+managed to convey to Hamish some notion of the risk he was running, or
+whether it was that he was merely anxious for his master's safety, it
+was clear that Hamish was far from satisfied. He opened and shut his big
+clasp-knife in an awkward silence. Then he said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will not go to Castle Dare, Sir Keith?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod started; he had forgotten that Hamish was there.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No. I have told you where I am going.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But there is not any good anchorage at that island <a name="Page_372" id="Page_372" />sir!&quot; he protested.
+&quot;Have I not been round every bay of it; and you too, Sir Keith? and you
+know there is not an inch of sand or of mud, but only the small loose
+stones. And then the shepherd they left there all by himself; it was mad
+he became at last, and took his own life too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, do you expect to see his ghost?&quot; Macleod said. &quot;Come, Hamish, you
+have lost your nerve in the South. Surely you are not afraid of being
+anywhere in the old yacht so long as she has good sea-room around her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if you are not wishing to go up the Sound of Iona in the daylight,
+Sir Keith,&quot; Hamish said, still clinging to the point, &quot;we could bear a
+little to the south, and go round the outside of Iona.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Dubh-Artach men would recognize the <i>Umpire</i> at once,&quot; Macleod
+said, abruptly; and then he suggested to Hamish that he should get a
+little more way on the yacht, so that she might be a trifle steadier
+when Christina carried the dinner into the English lady's cabin. But
+indeed there was now little breeze of any kind. Hamish's fears of a dead
+calm was likely to prove true.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile another conversation had been going forward in the small cabin
+below, that was now suffused by a strange warm light reflected from the
+evening sky. Miss White was looking very well now, after her long
+sea-voyage. During their first few hours in blue water she had been very
+ill indeed; and she repeatedly called en Christina to allow her to die.
+The old Highland-woman came to the conclusion that English ladies were
+rather childish in their way; but the only answer she made to this
+reiterated prayer was to make Miss White as comfortable as was possible,
+and to administer such restoratives as she thought desirable. At length,
+when recovery and a sound appetite set in, the patient began to show a
+great friendship for Christina. There was no longer any theatrical
+warning of the awful fate in store for everybody connected with this
+enterprise. She tried rather to enlist the old woman's sympathies on her
+behalf, and if she did not very well succeed in that direction, at least
+she remained on friendly terms with Christina and received from her the
+solace of much gossip about the whereabouts and possible destination of
+the ship.</p>
+
+<p>And on this evening Christina had an important piece of news.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where have we got to now, Christina?&quot; said Miss White, quite
+cheerfully, when the old woman entered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_373" id="Page_373" />Oh yes, mem, we will still be off the Mull shore, but a good piece
+away from it, and there is not much wind, mem. But Hamish thinks we will
+get to the anchorage the night whatever.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The anchorage!&quot; Miss White exclaimed eagerly. &quot;Where? You are going to
+Castle Dare, surely?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, mem, I think not,&quot; said Christina. &quot;I think it is an island; but
+you will not know the name of that island&mdash;there is no English for it at
+all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But where is it? Is it near Castle Dare?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no, mem; it is a good way from Castle Dare; and it is out in the
+sea. Do you know Gometra, mem?&mdash;wass you ever going out to Gometra?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, of course, I remember something about it anyway.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, well, it is away out past Gometra, mem; and not a good place for an
+anchorage whatever; but Hamish he will know all the anchorages.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What on earth is the use of going there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not know, mem.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is Sir Keith going to keep me on board this boat forever?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not know, mem.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Christina had to leave the cabin just then; when she returned she said,
+with some little hesitation,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I wass mekking so bold, mem, ass to say this to you: Why are you not
+asking the questions of Sir Keith himself? He will know all about it;
+and if you were to come into the saloon, mem&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think I would enter into any communication with him after his
+treatment of me?&quot; said Miss White, indignantly, &quot;No; let him atone for
+that first. When he has set me at liberty, then I will speak with him;
+but never so long as he keeps me shut up like a convict.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wass only saying, mem,&quot; Christina answered, with great respect, &quot;that
+if you were wishing to know where we were going, Sir Keith will know
+that; but how can I know it? And you know, mem, Sir Keith has not shut
+you up in this cabin; you hef the saloon, if you would please to hef
+it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you, I know!&quot; rejoined Miss White. &quot;If I choose, my gaol may
+consist of two rooms instead of one. I don't appreciate that amount of
+liberty. I want to be set ashore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_374" id="Page_374" />That I hef nothing to do with, mem,&quot; Christina said, humbly,
+proceeding with her work.</p>
+
+<p>Miss White, being left to think over these things, was beginning to
+believe that, after all, her obduracy was not likely to be of much
+service to her. Would it not be wiser to treat with the enemy&mdash;perhaps
+to outwit him by a show of forgiveness? Here they were approaching the
+end of the voyage&mdash;at least, Christina seemed to intimate as much; and
+if they were not exactly within call of friends, they would surely be
+within rowing distance of some inhabited island, even Gometra, for
+example. And if only a message could be sent to Castle Dare? Lady
+Macleod and Janet Macleod were women. They would not countenance this
+monstrous thing. If she could only reach them, she would be safe.</p>
+
+<p>The rose-pink died away from the long promontories, and was succeeded by
+a sombre gray; the glory in the west sank down; a wan twilight came over
+the sea and the sky; and a small golden star, like the point of a
+needle, told where the Dubh-Artach men had lit their beacon for the
+coming night. The <i>Umpire</i> lay and idly rolled in this dead calm;
+Macleod paced up and down the deck in the solemn stillness. Hamish threw
+a tarpaulin over the skylight of the saloon, to cover the bewildering
+light from below; and then, as the time went slowly by, darkness came
+over the land and the sea. They were alone with the night, and the
+lapping waves, and the stars.</p>
+
+<p>About ten o'clock there was a loud rattling of blocks and cordage&mdash;the
+first puff of a coming breeze had struck her. The men were at their
+posts in a moment; there were a few sharp, quick orders from Hamish; and
+presently the old <i>Umpire</i>, with her great boom away over her quarter,
+was running free before a light southeasterly wind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, ay!&quot; said Hamish, in sudden gladness, &quot;we will soon be by
+Ardalanish Point with a fine wind like this, Sir Keith; and if you would
+rather hef no lights on her&mdash;well, it is a clear night whateffer; and
+the <i>Dunara</i> she will hef up her lights.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The wind came in bits of squalls, it is true; but the sky overhead
+remained clear, and the <i>Umpire</i> bowled merrily along. Macleod was still
+on deck. They rounded the Ross of Mull, and got into the smoother waters
+of the Sound. Would any of the people in the cottages at Drraidh see
+this gray ghost of a vessel go gliding past over the dark water? <a name="Page_375" id="Page_375" />Behind
+them burned the yellow eye of Dubh-Artach; before them a few small red
+points told them of the Iona cottages; and still this phantom gray
+vessel held on her way. The <i>Umpire</i> was nearing her last anchorage.</p>
+
+<p>And still she steals onward, like a thief in the night She has passed
+through the Sound; she is in the open sea again; there is a calling of
+startled birds from over the dark bosom of the deep. Then far away they
+watch the light of a steamer; but she is miles from their course; they
+cannot even hear the throb of her engines.</p>
+
+<p>It is another sound they hear&mdash;a low booming as of distant thunder. And
+that black thing away on their right&mdash;scarcely visible over the darkened
+waves&mdash;is that the channelled and sea-bird haunted Staffa, trembling
+through all her caves under the shock of the smooth Atlantic surge? For
+all the clearness of the starlit sky, there is a wild booming of waters
+all around her rocks; and the giant caverns answer; and the thunder
+shudders out to the listening sea.</p>
+
+<p>The night drags on. The Dutchman is fast asleep in his vast Atlantic
+bed; the dull roar of the waves he has heard for millions of years is
+not likely to awake him. And Fladda and Lunga; surely this ghost-gray
+ship that steals by is not the old <i>Umpire</i> that used to visit them in
+the gay summer-time, with her red ensign flying, and the blue seas all
+around her? But here is a dark object on the waters that is growing
+larger and larger as one approaches it. The black outline of it is
+becoming sharp against the clear dome of stars. There is a gloom around
+as one gets nearer and nearer the bays and cliffs of this lonely island;
+and now one hears the sound of breakers on the rocks. Hamish and his men
+are on the alert. The topsail has been lowered. The heavy cable of the
+anchor lies ready by the windlass. And then, as the <i>Umpire</i> glides into
+smooth water, and her head is brought round to the light breeze, away
+goes the anchor with a rattle that awakes a thousand echoes; and all the
+startled birds among the rocks are calling through the night&mdash;the
+sea-pyots screaming shrilly, the curlews uttering their warning note,
+the herons croaking as they wing their slow flight away across the sea.
+The <i>Umpire</i> has got to her anchorage at last.</p>
+
+<p>And scarcely was the anchor down when they brought him a message from
+the English lady. She was in the saloon, and wished to see him. He could
+scarcely believe this; for it was now past midnight, and she had never
+come into the <a name="Page_376" id="Page_376" />saloon before. But he went down through the forecastle,
+and through his own stateroom, and opened the door of the saloon.</p>
+
+<p>For a second the strong light almost blinded him; but, at all events, he
+knew she was sitting there; and that she was regarding him with no
+fierce indignation at all, but with quite a friendly look.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gertrude!&quot; said he, in wonder; but he did not approach her. He stood
+before her, as one who was submissive.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So we have got to land at last,&quot; said she; and more and more he
+wondered to hear the friendliness of her voice. Could it be true, then?
+Or was it only one of those visions that had of late been torturing his
+brain?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, Gerty!&quot; said he. &quot;We have got to an anchorage.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought I would sit up for it,&quot; said she. &quot;Christina said we should
+get to land some time to-night; and I thought I would like to see you.
+Because, you know, Keith, you have used me very badly. And won't you sit
+down?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He accepted that invitation. <i>Could it be true? could it be true?</i> This
+was ringing in his ears. He heard her only in a bewildered way.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I want you to tell me what you mean to do with me,&quot; said she,
+frankly and graciously: &quot;I am at your mercy, Keith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, not that&mdash;not that,&quot; said he; and he added, sadly enough, &quot;it is I
+who have been at your mercy since ever I saw you, Gerty; and it is for
+you to say what is to become of you and of me. And have you got over
+your anger now? And will you think of all that made me do this, and try
+to forgive it for the sake of my love for you, Gerty? Is there any
+chance of that now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She rather avoided the earnest gaze that was bent on her. She did not
+notice how nervously his hand gripped the edge of the table near him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, it is a good deal to forgive, Keith; you will acknowledge that
+yourself: and though you used to think that I was ready to sacrifice
+everything for fame, I did not expect you would make me a nine-days'
+wonder in this way. I suppose the whole thing is in the papers now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no, Gerty; I sent a message to your father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, that was kind of you&mdash;and audacious. Were you not afraid of his
+overtaking you? The <i>Umpire</i> is not the <a name="Page_377" id="Page_377" />swiftest of
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'sailers'">sailors</ins>,
+you used
+to say; and you know there are telegraphs and railways to all the
+ports.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He did not know you were in the <i>Umpire</i>, Gerty. But of course, if he
+were very anxious about you, he would write or come to Dare. I should
+not be surprised if he were there now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A quick look of surprise and gladness sprang to her face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Papa&mdash;at Castle Dare!&quot; she exclaimed. &quot;And Christina says it is not far
+from here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not many miles away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then, of course, they will know we are here in the morning!&quot; she cried,
+in the indiscretion of sudden joy. &quot;And they will come out for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no, Gerty, they will not come out for you. No human being but those
+on board knows that we are here. Do you think they could see you from
+Dare? And there is no one living now on the island. We are alone in the
+sea.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The light died away from her face; but she said, cheerfully enough,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I am at your mercy, then, Keith. Let us take it that way. Now you
+must tell me what part in the comedy you mean me to play; for the life
+of me I can't make it out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Gerty, Gerty, do not speak like that!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;You are
+breaking my heart! Is there none of the old love left? Is it all a
+matter for jesting?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She saw she had been incautious.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said she, gently, &quot;I was wrong; I know it is more serious than
+that; and I am not indisposed to forgive you, if you treat me fairly. I
+know you have great earnestness of nature; and&mdash;and you were very fond
+of me; and although you have risked a great deal in what you have done,
+still, men who are very deeply in love don't think much about
+consequences. And if I were to forgive you, and make friends again, what
+then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if we were as we used to be,&quot; said he, with a grave wistfulness in
+his face, &quot;do you not think I would gladly take you ashore, Gerty?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And to Castle Dare?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, to Castle Dare! Would not my mother and Janet be glad to
+welcome you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And papa may be there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If he is not there, can we not telegraph for him? Why, <a name="Page_378" id="Page_378" />Gerty, surely
+you would not be married anywhere but in the Highlands?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At the mention of marriage she blanched somewhat; but she had nerved
+herself to play this part.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then, Keith,&quot; said she, gallantly, &quot;I will make you a promise. Take me
+to Castle Dare to-morrow, and the moment I am within its doors I will
+shake hands with you, and forgive you, and we will be friends again as
+in the old days.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We were more than friends, Gerty,&quot; said he, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let us be friends first, and then who knows what may not follow?&quot; said
+she, brightly. &quot;You cannot expect me to be overprofuse in affection just
+after being shut up like this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty,&quot; said he, and he looked at her with those strangely tired eyes,
+and there was a great gentleness in his voice, &quot;do you know where you
+are? You are close to the island that I told you of&mdash;where I wish to
+have my grave on the cliff. But instead of a grave, would it not be a
+fine thing to have a marriage here? No, do not be alarmed, Gerty! it is
+only with your own goodwill; and surely your heart will consent at last!
+Would not that be a strange wedding, too; with the minister from Salen;
+and your father on board; and the people from Dare? Oh, you would see
+such a number of boats come out that day, and we would go proudly back;
+and do you not think there would be a great rejoicing that day? Then all
+our troubles would be at an end, Gerty! There would be no more fear; and
+the theatres would never see you again; and the long happy life we
+should lead, we two together! And do you know the first thing I would
+get you, Gerty?&mdash;it would be a new yacht! I would go to the Clyde and
+have it built all for you. I would not have you go out again in this
+yacht, for you would then remember the days in which I was cruel to you;
+but in a new yacht you would not remember that any more; and do you not
+think we would have many a pleasant, long summer day on the deck of her,
+and only ourselves, Gerty? And you would sing the songs I first heard
+you sing, and I think the sailors would imagine they heard the singing
+of the mermaid of Colonsay; for there is no one can sing as you can
+sing, Gerty. I think it was that first took away my heart from me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But we can talk about all these things when I am on shore again,&quot; said
+she, coldly. &quot;You cannot expect me <a name="Page_379" id="Page_379" />to be very favorably disposed so
+long as I am shut up here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But then,&quot; he said, &quot;if you were on shore you might go away again from
+me, Gerty! The people would get at your ear again; they would whisper
+things to you; you would think about the theatres again. I have saved
+you, sweetheart; can I let you go back?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The words were spoken with an eager affection, and yearning; but they
+sank into her mind with a dull and cold conviction that there was no
+escape for her through any way of artifice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Am I to understand, then,&quot; said she, &quot;that you mean to keep me a
+prisoner here until I marry you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why do you speak like that, Gerty?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I demand an answer to my question.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have risked everything to save you; can I let you go back?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A sudden flash of desperate anger&mdash;even of hatred&mdash;was in her eyes; her
+fine piece of acting had been of no avail.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, let the farce end!&quot; said she, with frowning eyebrows. &quot;Before I
+came on board this yacht I had some pity for you. I thought you were at
+least a man, and had a man's generosity. Now I find you a coward, and a
+tyrant&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, do not think you have frightened me with your stories of the
+revenge of your miserable chiefs and their savage slaves! Not a bit of
+it! Do with me what you like; I would not marry you if you gave me a
+hundred yachts!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gerty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The anguish of his face was growing wild with despair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I say, let the farce end! I had pity for you&mdash;yes, I had! Now&mdash;I hate
+you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He sprang up with a quick cry, as of one shot to the heart. He regarded
+her, in a bewildered manner, for one brief second; and then he gently
+said, &quot;Good-night, Gerty! God forgive you!&quot; and he staggered backward,
+and got out of the saloon, leaving her alone.</p>
+
+<p>See! the night is still fine. All around this solitary bay there is a
+wall of rock, jet black, against the clear, dark sky, with its myriad
+twinkling stars. The new moon has arisen; but it sheds but little
+radiance yet down there in the south. <a name="Page_380" id="Page_380" />There is a sharper gleam from one
+lambent planet&mdash;a thin line of golden-yellow light that comes all the
+way across from the black rocks until it breaks in flashes among the
+ripples close to the side of the yacht. Silence once more reigns around;
+only from time to time one hears the croak of a heron from the dusky
+shore.</p>
+
+<p>What can keep this man up so late on deck? There is nothing to look at
+but the great bows of the yacht black against the pale gray sea, and the
+tall spars and the rigging going away up into the starlit sky, and the
+suffused glow from the skylight touching a yellow-gray on the main-boom.
+There is no need for the anchor-watch that Hamish was insisting on: the
+equinoctials are not likely to begin on such a night as this.</p>
+
+<p>He is looking across the lapping gray water to the jet-black line of
+cliff. And there are certain words haunting him. He cannot forget them;
+he cannot put them away.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>WHEREFORE IS LIGHT GIVEN TO HIM THAT IS IN MISERY, AND LIFE UNTO THE
+BITTER IN SOUL? * * * WHICH LONG FOR DEATH, BUT IT COMETH NOT; AND DIG
+FOR IT MORE THAN FOR HIDDEN TREASURES. * * * WHICH REJOICE EXCEEDINGLY,
+AND ARE GLAD WHEN THEY CAN FIND THE GRAVE.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Then, in the stillness of the night, he heard a breathing. He went
+forward, and found that Hamish had secreted himself behind the windlass.
+He uttered some exclamation in the Gaelic, and the old man rose and
+stood guiltily before him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have I not told you to go below before? and will I have to throw you
+down into the forecastle?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old man stood irresolute for a moment. Then he said, also in his
+native tongue,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You should not speak like that to me, Sir Keith: I have known you many
+a year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod caught Hamish's hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon, Hamish. You do not know. It is a sore heart I have
+this night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, God help us! Do I not know that!&quot; he exclaimed, in a broken voice;
+and Macleod, as he turned away, could hear the old man crying bitterly
+in the dark. What else could Hamish do now for him who had been to him
+as the son of his old age?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_381" id="Page_381" />Go below now, Hamish,&quot; said Macleod in a gentle voice and the old man
+slowly and reluctantly obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>But the night had not drawn to day when Macleod again went forward, and
+said, in a strange, excited whisper,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hamish, Hamish, are you awake now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Instantly the old man appeared; he had not turned into his berth at all.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hamish, Hamish, do you hear the sound?&quot; Macleod said, in the same wild
+way; &quot;do you not hear the sound?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What sound, Sir Keith?&quot; said he; for indeed there was nothing but the
+lapping of the water along the side of the yacht and a murmur of ripples
+along the shore.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you not hear it, Hamish? It is a sound as of a brass-band!&mdash;a
+brass-band playing music&mdash;as if it was in a theatre. Can you not hear
+it, Hamish?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, God help us! God help us!&quot; Hamish cried.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You do not hear it, Hamish?&quot; he said. &quot;Ah, it is some mistake. I beg
+your pardon for calling you, Hamish: now you will go below again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no, Sir Keith,&quot; said Hamish. &quot;Will I not stay on deck now till the
+morning? It is a fine sleep I have had; oh yes, I had a fine sleep. And
+how is one to know when the equinoctials may not come on?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish you to go below, Hamish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And now this sound that is ringing in his ears is no longer of the
+brass-band that he had heard in the theatre. It is quite different. It
+has all the ghastly mirth of that song that Norman Ogilvie used to sing
+in the old, half-forgotten days. What is it that he hears?</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&quot;King Death was a rare old fellow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He sat where no sun could shine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And he lifted his hand so yellow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And poured out his coal-black wine!<br /></span>
+<span>Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! for the coal-black wine!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It is a strange mirth. It might almost make a man laugh. For do we not
+laugh gently when we bury a young child, and put the flowers over it,
+and know that it is at peace? The child has no more pain at the heart.
+Oh, Norman Ogilvie, are you still singing the wild song? and are you
+laughing now?&mdash;or is it the old man Hamish that is crying in the dark?</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382" />
+<span class="i10">&quot;There came to him many a maiden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Whose eyes had forgot to shine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">&nbsp;And widows with grief o'erladen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;For a draught of his sleepy wine.<br /></span>
+<span>Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! for the coal-black wine!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It is such a fine thing to sleep&mdash;when one has been fretting all the
+night, and spasms of fire go through the brain! Ogilvie, Ogilvie, do you
+remember the laughing Duchess? do you think she would laugh over one's
+grave; or put her foot on it, and stand relentless, with anger in her
+eyes? That is a sad thing; but after it is over there is sleep.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&quot;All came to the rare old fellow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Who laughed till his eyes dropped brine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">&nbsp;As he gave them his hand so yellow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And pledged them, in Death's black wine!<br /></span>
+<span>Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! for the coal-black wine!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Hamish!&mdash;Hamish!&mdash;will you not keep her away from me! I have told Donald
+what pibroch he will play; I want to be at peace now. But the
+brass-band&mdash;the brass-band&mdash;I can hear the blare of the trumpets; Ulva
+will know that we are here, and the Gometra men, and the sea-birds too,
+that I used to love. But she has killed all that now, and she stands on
+my grave. She will laugh, for she was light-hearted, like a young child.
+But you, Hamish, you will find the quiet grave for me; and Donald will
+play the pibroch for me that I told him of; and you will say no word to
+her of all that is over and gone.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>See&mdash;he sleeps. This haggard-faced man is stretched on the deck; and the
+pale dawn, arising in the east, looks at him; and does not revive him,
+but makes him whiter still. You might almost think he was dead. But
+Hamish knows better than that; for the old man comes stealthily forward;
+and he has a great tartan plaid in his hand's; and very gently indeed he
+puts it over his young master. And there are tears running down Hamish's
+face; and he says &quot;The brave lad! the brave lad!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI" /><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383" />CHAPTER XLVI.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE END.</h3>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Duncan,&quot; said Hamish, in a low whisper&mdash;for Macleod had gone below, and
+they thought he might be asleep in the small, hushed stateroom, &quot;this is
+a strange-looking day, is it not? And I am afraid of it in this open
+bay, with an anchorage no better than a sheet of paper for an anchorage.
+Do you see now how strange-looking it is?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Duncan Cameron also spoke in his native tongue; and he said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is true, Hamish. And it was a day like this there was when the
+<i>Solan</i> was sunk at her moorings in Loch Hourn. Do you remember, Hamish?
+And it would be better for us now if we were in Loch Tua, or
+Loch-na-Keal, or in the dock that was built for the steamer at Tiree. I
+do not like the look of this day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Yet to an ordinary observer it would have seemed that the chief
+characteristic of this pale, still day, was extreme and settled calm.
+There was not a breath of wind to ruffle the surface of the sea; but
+there was a slight, glassy swell, and that only served to show curious
+opalescent tints under the suffused light of the sun. There were no
+clouds; there was only a thin veil of faint and sultry mist all across
+the sky; the sun was invisible, but there was a glare of yellow at one
+point of the heavens. A dead calm; but heavy, oppressed, sultry. There
+was something in the atmosphere that seemed to weigh on the chest.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There was a dream I had this morning,&quot; continued Hamish, in the same
+low tones. &quot;It was about my little granddaughter Christina. You know my
+little Christina, Duncan. And she said to me, 'What have you done with
+Sir Keith Macleod? Why have you not brought him back? He was under your
+care, grandfather.' I did not like that dream.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you are becoming as bad as Sir Keith Macleod himself?&quot; said the
+other. &quot;He does not sleep. He talks to himself. You will become like
+that if you pay attention to foolish dreams, Hamish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384" />Hamish's quick temper leaped up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you mean, Duncan Cameron, by saying, 'as bad as Sir Keith
+Macleod?' You&mdash;you come from Ross: perhaps they have not good masters
+there. I tell you there is not any man in Ross, or in Sutherland either,
+is as good a master, and as brave a lad, as Sir Keith Macleod&mdash;not any
+one, Duncan Cameron!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I did not mean anything like that, Hamish,&quot; said the other, humbly.
+&quot;But there was a breeze this morning. We could have got over to Loch
+Tua. Why did we stay here, where there is no shelter and no anchorage?
+Do you know what is likely to come after a day like this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is your business to be a sailor on board this yacht; it is not your
+business to say where she will go,&quot; said Hamish.</p>
+
+<p>But all the same the old man was becoming more and more alarmed at the
+ugly aspect of the dead calm. The very birds, instead of stalking among
+the still pools, or lying buoyant on the smooth waters, were excitedly
+calling, and whirring from one point to another.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If the equinoctials were to begin now,&quot; said Duncan Cameron, &quot;this is a
+fine place to meet the equinoctials! An open bay, without shelter; and a
+ground that is no ground for an anchorage. It is not two anchors or
+twenty anchors would hold in such ground.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod appeared; the man was suddenly silent. Without a word to either
+of them&mdash;and that was not his wont&mdash;he passed to the stern of the yacht.
+Hamish knew from his manner that he would not be spoken to. He did not
+follow him, even with all this vague dread on his mind.</p>
+
+<p>The day wore on to the afternoon. Macleod, who had been pacing up and
+down the deck, suddenly called Hamish. Hamish came aft at once.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hamish,&quot; said he, with a strange sort of laugh, &quot;do you remember this
+morning, before the light came? Do you remember that I asked you about a
+brass-band that I heard playing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hamish looked at him, and said, with an earnest anxiety,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Sir Keith, you will pay no heed to that! It is very common; I have
+heard them say it is very common. Why, to hear a brass-band, to be sure!
+There is nothing more common than that. And you will not think you are
+unwell merely because you think you can hear a brass-band playing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_385" id="Page_385" />I want you to tell me, Hamish,&quot; said he, in the same jesting way,
+&quot;whether my eyes have followed the example of my ears, and are playing
+tricks. Do you think they are bloodshot, with my lying on deck in the
+cold? Hamish, what do you see all around?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old man looked at the sky, and the shore, and the sea. It was a
+marvellous thing. The world was all enshrouded in a salmon-colored mist:
+there was no line of horizon visible between the sea and the sky.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is red, Sir Keith,&quot; said Hamish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! Am I in my senses this time? And what do you think of a red day,
+Hamish? That is not a usual thing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Sir Keith, it will be a wild night this night! And we cannot stay
+here, with this bad anchorage!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And where would you go, Hamish&mdash;in a dead calm?&quot; Macleod asked, still
+with a smile on the wan face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where would I go?&quot; said the old man, excitedly. &quot;I&mdash;I will take care of
+the yacht. But you, Sir Keith; oh! you&mdash;you will go ashore now. Do you
+know, sir, the sheiling that the shepherd had? It is a poor place; oh
+yes; but Duncan Cameron and I will take some things ashore. And do you
+not think we can look after the yacht? She has met the equinoctials
+before, if it is the equinoctials that are beginning. She has met them
+before; and cannot she meet them now? But you, Sir Keith, you will go
+ashore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod burst out laughing, in an odd sort of fashion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think I am good at running away when there is any kind of
+danger, Hamish. Have you got into the English way. Would you call me a
+coward too? Nonsense, nonsense, nonsense, Hamish! I&mdash;why, I am going to
+drink a glass of the coal-black wine, and have done with it. I will
+drink it to the health of my sweetheart, Hamish!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir Keith,&quot; said the old man, beginning to tremble, though he but half
+understood the meaning of the scornful mirth, &quot;I have had charge of you
+since you were a young lad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And Lady Macleod will ask of me, 'Such and such a thing happened: what
+did you do for my son?' Then I will say, 'Your ladyship, we were afraid
+of the equinoctials; and we got Sir Keith to go ashore; and the next day
+we went ashore for him; and now we have brought him back to Castle
+Dare!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_386" id="Page_386" />Hamish, Hamish, you are laughing at me! Or you want to call me a
+coward? Don't you know I should be afraid of the ghost of the shepherd
+who killed himself? Don't you know that the English people call me a
+coward?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;May their souls dwell in the downmost hall of perdition!&quot; said Hamish,
+with his cheeks becoming a gray-white; &quot;and every woman that ever came
+of the accursed race!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked at the old man for a second, and he gripped his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not say that, Hamish&mdash;that is folly. But you have been my friend. My
+mother will not forget you&mdash;it's not the way of a Macleod to
+forget&mdash;whatever happens to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir Keith!&quot; Hamish cried, &quot;I do not know what you mean! But you will go
+ashore before the night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go ashore,&quot; Macleod answered, with a return to this wild, bantering
+tone, &quot;when I am going to see my sweetheart? Oh no! Tell Christina, now!
+Tell Christina to ask the young English lady to come into the saloon,
+for I have something to say to her. Be quick, Hamish!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hamish went away; and before long he returned with the answer that the
+young English lady was in the saloon. And now he was no longer haggard
+and piteous, but joyful; and there was a strange light in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sweetheart,&quot; said he, &quot;are you waiting for me at last? I have brought
+you a long way. Shall we drink a glass now at the end of the voyage?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you wish to insult me?&quot; said she; but there was no anger in her
+voice: there was more of fear in her eyes as she regarded him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have no other message for me than the one you gave me last night,
+Gerty?&quot; said he, almost cheerfully. &quot;It is all over, then? You would go
+away from me forever? But we will drink a glass before we go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He sprang forward, and caught both her hands in his with the grip of a
+vice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know what you have done, Gerty?&quot; said he, in a low voice. &quot;Oh,
+you have soft, smooth, English ways; and you are like a rose-leaf; and
+you are like a queen, whom all people are glad to serve. But do you know
+that you have killed a man's life? And there is no penalty for that in
+the South, perhaps; but you are no longer in the South. And if you have
+this very night to drink a glass with me, you <a name="Page_387" id="Page_387" />will not refuse it? It is
+only a glass of the coal-black wine!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She struggled back from him, for there was a look in his face that
+frightened her. But she had a wonderful self command.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is that the message I was to hear?&quot; she said, coldly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, sweetheart, are you not glad? Is not that the only gladness left
+for you and for me, that we should drink one glass together, and clasp
+hands, and say good-by? What else is there left? What else could come to
+you and to me? And it may not be this night, or to-morrow night; but one
+night I think it will come; and then, sweetheart, we will have one more
+glass together, before the end.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went on deck. He called Hamish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hamish,&quot; said he, in a grave, matter of fact way, &quot;I don't like the
+look of this evening. Did you say the sheiling was still on the island?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes, Sir Keith,&quot; said Hamish, with great joy; for he thought his
+advice was going to be taken, after all.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, now, you know the gales, when they begin, sometimes last for two,
+or three, or four days; and I will ask you to see that Christina takes a
+good store of things to the sheiling before the darkness comes on. Take
+plenty of things now, Hamish, and put them in the sheiling, for I am
+afraid this is going to be a wild night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now, indeed, all the red light had gone away; and as the sun went down
+there was nothing but a spectral whiteness over the sea and the sky; and
+the atmosphere was so close and sultry that it seemed to suffocate one.
+Moreover, there was a dead calm; if they had wanted to get away from
+this exposed place, how could they? They could not get into the gig and
+pull this great yacht over to Loch Tua.</p>
+
+<p>It was with a light heart that Hamish set about this thing; and
+Christina forthwith filled a hamper with tinned meats, and bread, and
+whiskey, and what not. And fuel was taken ashore, too; and candles, and
+a store of matches. If the gales were coming on, as appeared likely from
+this ominous-looking evening, who could tell how many days and nights
+the young master&mdash;and the English lady, too, if he desired her
+company&mdash;might not have to stay ashore, while the men took the chance of
+the sea with this yacht, or perhaps seized the occasion of some lull to
+make for some place of shelter? There was Loch Tua, and there was the
+bay at <a name="Page_388" id="Page_388" />Bunessan, and there was the little channel called Polterriv,
+behind the rocks opposite Iona. Any shelter at all was better than this
+exposed place, with the treacherous anchorage.</p>
+
+<p>Hamish and Duncan Cameron returned to the yacht.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you go ashore now, Sir Keith?&quot; the old man said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no; I am not going ashore yet, It is not yet time to run away,
+Hamish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in a friendly and pleasant fashion, though Hamish, in his
+increasing alarm, thought it no proper time for jesting. They hauled the
+gig up to the davits, however, and again the yacht lay in dead silence
+in this little bay.</p>
+
+<p>The evening grew to dusk; the only change visible in the spectral world
+of pale yellow-white mist was the appearance in the sky of a number of
+small, detached bulbous-looking clouds of a dusky blue-gray. They had
+not drifted hither, for there was no wind. They had only appeared. They
+were absolutely motionless.</p>
+
+<p>But the heat and the suffocation in this atmosphere became almost
+insupportable. The men, with bare heads, and jerseys unbuttoned at the
+neck, were continually going to the cask of fresh water beside the
+windlass. Nor was there any change when the night came on. If anything,
+the night was hotter than the evening had been. They awaited in silence
+what might come of this ominous calm.</p>
+
+<p>Hamish came aft.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon, Sir Keith,&quot; said he, &quot;but I am thinking we will have
+an anchor-watch to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will have no anchor-watch to-night,&quot; Macleod answered, slowly, from
+out of the darkness. &quot;I will be all the anchor-watch you will need,
+Hamish, until the morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You, sir!&quot; Hamish cried. &quot;I have been waiting to take you ashore: and
+surely it is ashore that you are going!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Just as he had spoken there was a sound that all the world seemed to
+stand still to hear. It was a low murmuring sound of thunder; but it was
+so remote as almost to be inaudible. The next moment an awful thing
+occurred. The two men standing face to face in the dark suddenly found
+themselves in a blaze of blinding steel-blue light; and at the very same
+instant the thunder-roar crackled and shook all around them like the
+firing of a thousand cannon. How the wild echoes went booming over the
+sea! Then they <a name="Page_389" id="Page_389" />were in the black night again. There was a period of
+awed silence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hamish,&quot; Macleod said, quickly, &quot;do as I tell you now! Lower the gig;
+take the men with you, and Christina, and go ashore, and remain in the
+sheiling till the morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will not!&quot; Hamish cried. &quot;Oh, Sir Keith, would you have me do that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Macleod had anticipated his refusal. Instantly he went forward and
+called up Christina. He ordered Duncan Cameron and John Cameron to lower
+away the gig. He got them all in but Hamish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hamish,&quot; said he, &quot;you are a smaller man than I. Is it on such a night,
+that you would have me quarrel with you? Must I throw you into the
+boat?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old man clasped his trembling hands together as if in prayer; and he
+said, with an agonized and broken voice,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Sir Keith, you are my master, and there is nothing I will not do
+for you; but only this one night you will let me remain with the yacht?
+I will give you the rest of my life; but only this one night&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Into the gig with you!&quot; Macleod cried, angrily. &quot;Why, man, don't you
+think I can keep anchor-watch?&quot; But then he added, very gently, &quot;Hamish,
+shake hands with me now. You were my friend, and you must get ashore
+before the sea rises.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will stay in the dingy, then?&quot; the old man entreated.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will go ashore, Hamish; and this very instant, too. If the gale
+begins, how will you get ashore. Good-by, Hamish&mdash;<i>good-night!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Another white sheet of flame quivered all around them, just as this
+black figure was descending into the gig; and then the fierce hell of
+sounds broke loose once more. Sea and sky together seemed to shudder at
+the wild uproar, and far away the sounds went thundering through the
+hollow night. How could one hear if there was any sobbing in that
+departing boat, or any last cry of farewell? It was Ulva calling now,
+and Fladda answering from over the black water; and the Dutchman is
+surely awake at last!</p>
+
+<p>There came a stirring of wind from the east, and the sea began to moan.
+Surely the poor fugitives must have reached the shore now. And then
+there was a strange noise in the distance: in the awful silence between
+the peals of thunder it would be heard; it came nearer and nearer&mdash;a low
+murmuring noise, but full of secret life and thrill&mdash;it came along <a name="Page_390" id="Page_390" />like
+the tread of a thousand armies&mdash;and then the gale struck its first blow.
+The yacht reeled under the stroke, but her bows staggered up again like
+a dog that has been felled, and after one or two convulsive plunges she
+clung hard at the strained cables. And now the gale was growing in fury,
+and the sea rising. Blinding showers of rain swept over, hissing and
+roaring; the white tongues of flame were shooting this way and that
+across the startled heavens; and there was a more awful thunder than
+even the falling of the Atlantic surge booming into the great sea-caves.
+In the abysmal darkness the spectral arms of the ocean rose white in
+their angry clamor; and then another blue gleam would lay bare the great
+heaving and wreathing bosom of the deep. What devil's dance is this?
+Surely it cannot be Ulva&mdash;Ulva the green-shored&mdash;Ulva that the sailors,
+in their love of her, call softly <i>Ool-a-va</i>&mdash;that is laughing aloud
+with wild laughter on this awful night? And Colonsay, and Lunga, and
+Fladda&mdash;they were beautiful and quiet in the still summer-time; but now
+they have gone mad, and they are flinging back the plunging sea in white
+masses of foam, and they are shrieking in their fierce joy of the
+strife. And Staffa&mdash;Staffa is far away and alone; she is trembling to
+her core: how long will the shuddering caves withstand the mighty hammer
+of the Atlantic surge? And then again the sudden wild gleam startles the
+night, and one sees, with an appalling vividness, the driven white waves
+and the black island; and then again a thousand echoes go booming along
+the iron-bound coast. What can be heard in the roar of the hurricane,
+and the hissing of rain, and the thundering whirl of the waves on the
+rocks? Surely not the glad last cry: SWEETHEART! YOUR HEALTH! YOUR
+HEALTH IN THE COAL-BLACK WINE?</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The poor fugitives crouching in among the rocks: is it the blinding rain
+or the driven white surf that is in their eyes? But they have sailors'
+eyes; they can see through the awful storm; and their gaze is fixed on
+one small green point far out there in the blackness&mdash;the starboard
+light of the doomed ship. It wavers like a will-o'-the-wisp, but it does
+not recede; the old <i>Umpire</i> still clings bravely to her chain-cables.</p>
+
+<p>And amidst all the din of the storm they hear the voice of Hamish lifted
+aloud in lamentation:&mdash;&quot;Oh, the brave lad! the brave lad! And who is to
+save <a name="Page_391" id="Page_391" />the young master now? and who will carry this tale back to Castle
+Dare? They will say to me: 'Hamish, you had charge of the young lad: you
+put the first gun in his hand: you had charge of him: he had the love of
+a son for you: what is it you have done with him this night?' He is my
+Absalom; he is my brave young lad: oh, do you think that I will let him
+drown and do nothing to try to save him? Do you think that? Duncan
+Cameron, are you a man? Will you get into the gig with me and pull out
+to the <i>Umpire?</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By God,&quot; said Duncan Cameron, solemnly, &quot;I will do that! I have no
+wife; I do not care. I will go into the gig with you, Hamish; but we
+will never reach the yacht&mdash;this night or any night that is to come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the old woman Christina shrieked aloud, and caught her husband by
+the arm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hamish? Hamish! Are you going to drown yourself before my eyes?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He shook her hand away from him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My young master ordered me ashore: I have come ashore. But I myself, I
+order myself back again. Duncan Cameron, they will never say that we
+stood by and saw Macleod of Dare go down to his grave!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They emerged from the shelter of this great rock; the hurricane was so
+fierce that they had to cling to one boulder after another to save
+themselves from being whirled into the sea. But were these two men by
+themselves? Not likely! It was a party of five men that now clambered
+along the slippery rocks to the shingle up which they had hauled the
+gig, and one wild lightning-flash saw them with their hands on the
+gunwale,
+<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none"
+title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'reay'">ready</ins>
+to drag her down to the water. There was a surf raging
+there that would have swamped twenty gigs: these five men were going of
+their own free-will and choice to certain death&mdash;so much had they loved
+the young master.</p>
+
+<p>But a piercing cry from Christina arrested them. They looked out to sea.
+What was this sudden and awful thing? Instead of the starboard green
+light, behold! the port red light&mdash;and that moving? Oh see! how it
+recedes, wavering, flickering through the whirling vapor of the storm!
+And there again is the green light! Is it a witch's dance, or are they
+strange death-fires hovering over the dark ocean grave? But Hamish knows
+too well what it means; and with a wild cry of horror and despair, the
+old man sinks on his knees and clasps his hands, and stretches them out
+to the terrible sea.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<a name="Page_392" id="Page_392" />Oh Macleod, Macleod! are you going away from me forever and we will go
+up the hills together and on the lochs together no more&mdash;no more&mdash;no
+more! Oh, the brave lad that he was!&mdash;and the good master! And who was
+not proud of him&mdash;my handsome lad&mdash;and he the last of the Macleods of
+Dare?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Arise, Hamish, and have the gig hauled up into shelter; for will you not
+want it when the gale abates, and the seas are smooth, and you have to
+go away to Dare, you and your comrades, with silent tongues and sombre
+eyes? Why this wild lamentation in the darkness of the night? The
+stricken heart that you loved so well has found peace at last; the
+coal-black wine has been drank; there is an end! And you, you poor
+cowering fugitives, who only see each other's terrified faces when the
+wan gleam of the lightning blazes through the sky, perhaps it is well
+that you should weep and wail for the young master; but that is soon
+over, and the day will break. And this is what I am thinking of now:
+when the light comes, and the seas are smooth, then which of you&mdash;oh,
+which of you all will tell this tale to the two women at Castle Dare.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>So fair shines the morning sun on the white sands of Iona! The three
+days' gale is over. Behold, how Ulva&mdash;Ulva the green-shored&mdash;the
+<i>Ool-a-va</i> that the sailors love&mdash;is laughing out again to the clear
+skies! And the great skarts on the shores of Erisgeir are spreading
+abroad their dusky wings to get them dried in the sun; and the seals are
+basking on the rocks in Loch-na-Keal; and in Loch Scridain the white
+gulls sit buoyant on the blue sea. There go the Gometra men in their
+brown-sailed boat to look after the lobster-traps at Staffa, and very
+soon you will see the steamer come round the far Cailleach Point; over
+at Erraidh they are signalling to the men at Dubh-artach, and they are
+glad to have a message from them after the heavy gale. The new, bright
+day has begun; the world has awakened again to the joyous sunlight;
+there is a chattering of the sea-birds all along the shores. It is a
+bright, eager, glad day for all the world. But there is silence in
+Castle Dare!</p>
+
+<h3>THE END.</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="smaller">
+<p>Transcriber's Notes:</p>
+
+<p>1) Table of Contents added for ease of navigation.</p>
+<p>2) Chapter IX was misprinted as Chapter XI in the original text.</p>
+<p>3) Inconsistent hyphenation was standardized.</p>
+<p>4) Several obvious misprints were corrected (some based on context);
+Christiana/Christina, Gertude/Gertrude, though/thought, then/them, umrest/unrest, have have/have,
+entravagant/extravagant, handerchief/handkerchief, imposssible/impossible,
+Kinlock/Kinloch (for consistency within text), Macintyre/MacIntyre (for consistency
+within text), Medditerranean/Mediterranean, nansense/nonsense, reay/ready,
+sailers/sailors, Sgirobh/Sgriobh, thay/they, thrist/thirst, visting/visiting.</p>
+
+<p>5) CHAPTER XLIII: "And it was with a gentleness equal to her own that Hamish shut
+the little doors after her." The 'was' was added based on context.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Macleod of Dare, by William Black
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+</pre>
+
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