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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>"A PRINCESS OF THULE," "THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A +<br /> PHAETON," "A +DAUGHTER OF HETH," 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> </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—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—the badge of the clan—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>"It is a dark hour you have chosen to go away from your home," said the +mother; and the lean hand, resting on the table before her, trembled +somewhat.</p> + +<p>"Why, mother," the young man said, lightly, "you know I am to have +Captain ——'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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Keith," his cousin cried—for she was trying to be very cheerful, +too—"do you say that you are ashamed of the tartan?"</p> + +<p>"Ashamed of the tartan!" he said, with a laugh. "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."</p> + +<p>The old lady paid no heed. Her hands were now clasped before her. There +was sad thinking in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"You are the last of my six boys," said she, "and you are going away +from me too."</p> + +<p>"Now, now, mother," said he, "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."</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—if the very graves have been rifled—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 £5000. How could England afford <a name="Page_4" id="Page_4" />£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—Donacha Ban, they called him, far and wide among +the hills—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—<i>Er ruht saft in wiedererkampfter +deutscher Erde</i>—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—-"<i>Hier liegen—tapfere Krieger</i>"—a separate memento +was placed over the grave of Under-lieutenant Hector Macleod of the +——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—her Benjamin, her best-beloved—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>"It was well played, Donald," said he, in the Gaelic; "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."</p> + +<p>At this praise—imagine telling a piper lad that he was a fit successor +of the MacCruimins, the hereditary pipers of the Macleods—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>"I will take a glass of the claret wine, Sir Keith," 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>"I drink your health, Lady Macleod," said he, when he had removed his +cap; "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."</p> + +<p>It was a bold demand.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But you are taking Oscar with you, Sir Keith."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am. I must make sure of having one friend with me in the south."</p> + +<p>"And I think I would be better than a collie," 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 "Cumhadh na Cloinne," 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>"Do you know," said Janet, quickly, to her cousin across the table, +"that it is said no piper in the West Highlands can play 'Lord Lovat's +Lament' like our Donald?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, he plays it very well; and he has got a good step," Macleod +said. "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?"</p> + +<p>The old lady had nerved herself again, though her hands were still +trembling.</p> + +<p>"I hope he will come back with you, Keith," she said.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"It is no woman's hand you have, Keith," his cousin said; "it is a +soldier's hand."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, with his face flushing, "and if I had had Norman +Ogilvie's chance—"</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—the poor man had to travel eighteen miles between the two houses, +many a time in hard weather—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—what else was he than a mere +deer-stalker and salmon-killer?</p> + +<p>"Ogilvie has been very kind to me, mother," he said, laughing. "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—with a string round my neck, I +suppose, lest I should bite somebody."</p> + +<p>"You could not go better to London than in your own tartan," said the +proud mother; "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?"</p> + +<p>Old Hamish came in.</p> + +<p>"It will be time for the boat now, Sir Keith, and the men are down at +the shore."</p> + +<p>He rose, the handsome young fellow, and took his broad, blue bonnet with +the badge of juniper.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, cousin Janet," said he, lightly. "Good-by, mother. You are not +going to send me away in this sad fashion? What am I to bring you +back—a satin gown from Paris? or a young bride to cheer up the old +house?"</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>"Oh, Keith," said she, in a bright and matter-of-fact way, "I have a +message for you—from myself—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."</p> + +<p>She had the envelope in her hand.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I have kept a little," said she, "and it is not much that is needed. It +is £2000 I would like you to take from me, Keith. I have written a +letter."</p> + +<p>"Why, bless me, Janet, that is nearly all the money you've got!"</p> + +<p>"I know it."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But this is a favor, Keith," said she. "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—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."</p> + +<p>"And it is a poor forecast you are making, Cousin Janet," said he, +cheerfully. "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."</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>"Is it time to go out now?" 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>"Ay, it will be time now, even if you will wait a little," said Hamish. +And then the old man added, "It is a dark night, Sir Keith, for your +going away from Castle Dare."</p> + +<p>"And it will be the brighter morning when I come back," answered the +young man, for he could not mistake the intention of the words.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"Donald," Hamish had said to him on the shore, "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."</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—this blowing of +a steam whistle far away in the darkness?</p> + +<p>"He will be in good time, aunt; she is a long way off yet," 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>"Now, Donald," Macleod called out, "you will take the dog—here is the +string; and you will see he does not spring into the water."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will take the dog," muttered the boy, half to <a name="Page_10" id="Page_10" />himself. "Oh yes, +I will take the dog; but it is better if I was going with you, Sir +Keith, than any dog."</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 "Macintosh's Lament."</p> + +<p>"Confound that obstinate brat!" Macleod said to himself. "Now he will go +back to Castle Dare and make the women miserable."</p> + +<p>"The captain is below at his supper, Sir Keith," said the mate. "Will +you go down to him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will go down to him," 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>"My good woman, what is the matter with you?" said he.</p> + +<p>"The night is cold," she said in the Gaelic, "and my children are cold; +and it is a long way that we are going."</p> + +<p>He answered her in her own tongue.</p> + +<p>"You will be warmer if you go below; but here is a plaid for you, +anyway;" 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>"It is the last of my six sons that has gone from me," she said, coming +back to the old refrain, and refusing to be comforted.</p> + +<p>"And I have lost my brother," said Janet Macleod, in <a name="Page_11" id="Page_11" />her simple way. +"But he will came back to us, auntie; and then we shall have great +doings at Castle Dare."</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—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—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—while getting properly dressed to +satisfy the demands of his friend—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>"My dear old boy," said he, "how do you do?" 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>"Hang it all, Macleod!" young Ogilvie cried, with all the starch gone +out of his manner; "your dog's all wet? What's the use of keeping a +brute like that about the place?"</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>"My dear fellow," he cried, "I put him in my bedroom to dry. I couldn't +do more, could I? He has just been in the Serpentine."</p> + +<p>"I wish he was there now, with a stone and a string round his neck!" +observed Lieutenant Ogilvie, looking at his boots; but he repented him +of this rash saying, for within a week he had offered Macleod £20 for +the dog. He might have offered twenty dozen of £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>"And how do you like the rooms I got for you?"</p> + +<p>"There is not much fresh air about them, nor in this narrow street," +Macleod said, frankly; "but that is no matter for I have been out all +day—all over London."</p> + +<p>"I thought the price was as high as you would care to go," Ogilvie said; +"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."</p> + +<p>"And where have I got the money? There are no gold mines in the west of +Mull. It is you who are Fortunatus."</p> + +<p>"By Jove, if you knew how hard a fellow is run at Aldershot," Mr. +Ogilvie remarked, confidentially, "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."</p> + +<p>"You are studying hard, I suppose," Macleod said, quite gravely.</p> + +<p>"Pretty well," 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, "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—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."</p> + +<p>"I should say your big drinks at Aldershot were more likely to kill you +than going after the deer," said Macleod, "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."</p> + +<p>"I wonder you don't let part of that shooting," said young Ogilvie, who +knew well of the straitened circumstances of the Macleods of Dare.</p> + +<p>"The mother won't have it done," said Macleod, quite simply, "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."</p> + +<p>"Yes, if I had been the eldest of them," said Mr. Ogilvie. "It is a +capital thing to have younger brothers; it isn't half so pleasant when +you are the younger brother."</p> + +<p>"And will you come up, then, and bury yourself alive at Dare?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you? I did not think you were so stupid," Macleod remarked.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course we do. You speak of going up to the capital of a +country, and of going down to the provinces."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you are right—no doubt you are right; but it sounds stupid," +the unconvinced Highlander observed again. "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."</p> + +<p>"Don't imagine I am going out to have that dog plunging about among my +feet," said Ogilvie. "But I have something else for you to do. You know +Colonel Ross of Duntorme."</p> + +<p>"I have heard of him."</p> + +<p>"His wife is an awfully nice woman, and would like to meet you, I fancy +they think of buying some property—I am not sure it isn't an island—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."</p> + +<p>Macleod looked at the card.</p> + +<p>"How far is Prince's Gate from here?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"A mile and a half, I should say."</p> + +<p>"And it is now twenty minutes to two," said he, rising. "It will be a +nice smart walk."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Mr. Ogilvie; "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."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Your boots are rather tight," 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—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>"Mrs. Ross is a very handsome woman," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"Indeed."</p> + +<p>"And uncommonly fascinating, too, when she likes."</p> + +<p>"Really."</p> + +<p>"You had better look out, if she tries to fascinate you."</p> + +<p>"She is a married woman," said Macleod.</p> + +<p>"They are always the worst," said this wise person; "for they are +jealous of the younger women."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is all nonsense," said Macleod, bluntly. "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?"</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"That is better than to make an ass of me, as you suggested."</p> + +<p>"—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—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—everybody who isn't the least like anybody else."</p> + +<p>"And what is your claim, then, to go there?" Macleod asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said the young lieutenant, laughing at the home-thrust, "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."</p> + +<p>"And how am I to propitiate her? What am I to do?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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—with whom or what he knew not.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_17" id="Page_17" />Why didn't you jump out?" 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>"Confound it!" said he; "what's to be done now? The house is just round +the corner."</p> + +<p>"Let us go in, and they will lend you a clothesbrush."</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"What a fellow you are to jump, Macleod!" said he. "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."</p> + +<p>"But where the people came from—it was that surprised me," said +Macleod, who seemed to have rather enjoyed the adventure. "It was like +one of our sea-lochs in the Highlands—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?"</p> + +<p>"We shall be frightfully late for luncheon," 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—the balconies and windows were +a blaze of flowers all shining in the sun—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—all more solemn +than any clergyman—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>"It was very kind of Mr. Ogilvie to get you to come; he is a very good +boy; he forgets nothing," 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—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>"Miss White and I," said Mrs. Ross to him—and at this moment the young +lady turned to them—"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."</p> + +<p>"That was very kind" 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. "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."</p> + +<p>"You are not much of a Jacobite, Sir Keith," said Mrs. Ross, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Only when I hear a Jacobite song sung," said he. "Then who can fail to +be a Jacobite?"</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>"After all," said he to Mrs. Ross, "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," added he, with a becoming modesty, "that +the Macleods were by far the most treacherous and savage and +bloodthirsty of the whole lot of them."</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—clear, large eyes +that rather startled one when the heavy lids were lifted, so full of +expression were they.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said she, with a certain demure smile, "you have no wild +deeds done there now?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we have become quite peaceable folks now," said he, laughing. "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—they are all sheep now."</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—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—for Mrs. Ross's house faced westward—was, as he said, singularly +beautiful to one accustomed to the windy skies of the western isles.</p> + +<p>"But you have not seen our elm—our own elm," said Mrs. Ross, who was +arranging some azaleas that had just been sent her. "We are very proud +of our elm. Gertrude, will you take Sir Keith to see our noble elm?"</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>"Will you come this way, then Sir Keith?"</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—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—Colonel Ross +himself, and a little old gentleman in gold-rimmed spectacles.</p> + +<p>"Shall I introduce you to my father?" said Miss White to her companion; +and, after a word or two, they passed on.</p> + +<p>"I think papa is invaluable to Colonel Ross," said she: "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."</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—in some sudden moment of entreaty, in the sharp joy of +reconciliation, in the agony of farewell—would it not be crushed like a +frail flower?</p> + +<p>"There is our elm," said she, lightly. "Mrs. Ross and I regard it as our +own, we have sketched it so often."</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!—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>"It is like a dream to me," he said, honestly enough, "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?"</p> + +<p>"Or we should very soon tire of all this, beautiful as it <a name="Page_23" id="Page_23" />is," said +she; and she looked rather wistfully out on the broad, still gardens. +"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."</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—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>"Shall we go back now?" 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>"Come," said she, "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."</p> + +<p>"You will not believe her," said Miss White, in that low-toned, gravely +sincere voice of hers, while a faint shell-like pink suffused her face. +"It was only that we were talking of the highlands, because we +understood you were coming; and Mrs. Ross was trying to make out"—and +here a spice of proud mischief came into her ordinarily calm eyes—"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."</p> + +<p>"Well, you know, Sir Keith," said Mrs. Ross, apologetically, "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!"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, no doubt!" said he; "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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, no," protested Mrs. Ross; "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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I shall begin to fear that you have some of the old blood in you," said +Mrs. Ross, with a smile, "if you try to excuse one of the cruelest +things ever heard of."</p> + +<p>"I do not excuse it at all," said he, simply. "It was very bad—very +cruel. But perhaps the Macleods were not so much worse than others. It +was not a Macleod at all, it was a Gordon—and she a woman, too—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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how can you say that?" exclaimed his persecutor. "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—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."</p> + +<p>"There are not, Mrs. Ross," said he, gravely. "They were all killed by +the Macdonalds, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"I do believe," said she, "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—"</p> + +<p>"Miss White," the young man said, modestly, "will not you help me? Am I +to be made responsible for all the evil doings of my ancestors?"</p> + +<p>"It is really not fair, Mrs. Ross," 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>"I only meant to punish you," said Mrs. Ross, "for having traversed the +indictment—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."</p> + +<p>"What is cruel now was not cruel then," he said; "it was a way of +fighting: it was what is called an ambush now—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?"</p> + +<p>"I thought we were all sheep now," said she.</p> + +<p>"Do you know the story of the man who was flogged by Maclean of +Lochbuy—that is in Mull," said he, not heeding her remark. "You do not +know that old story?"</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—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. "<i>Let the tail go +with the hide</i>," 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>"Very well," continued Macleod. "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—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—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."</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>"Come, Gertrude," she said, taking the girl by the hand, "we shall be +frightened to death by these stories. Come and sing us a song—a French +song, all about tears, and fountains, and bits of ribbon—or we shall be +seeing the ghosts of murdered Highlanders coming in here in the +daytime."</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—faint and clear and musical—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>"A wee bird cam' to our ha' door"—<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,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"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."<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>"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—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Oh, wae's me for Prince Charlie!'"<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, "<i>If only the mother and Janet could hear this strange +singing!</i>"</p> + +<p>When she had ended, Mrs. Ross came over to him and said, "That is a +great compliment to you."</p> + +<p>And he answered, simply, "I have never heard any singing like that."</p> + +<p>Then young Mr. Ogilvie—whose existence, by-the-way, he had entirely and +most ungratefully forgotten—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">"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!"<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">"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!"<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>"I must ask your pardon," said she, smiling, "for singing two Scotch +songs, for I know the pronunciation is very difficult."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29" />He answered with no idle compliment.</p> + +<p>"If <i>Tearlach ban og</i>, as they used to call him, were alive now," said +he—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—"you would get him more men to follow +him than any flag or standard he ever raised."</p> + +<p>She cast her eyes down.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ross's guests began to leave.</p> + +<p>"Gertrude," said she, "will you drive with me for half an hour—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."</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>"I don't think we can do better than take her advice about the cigar," +said young Ogilvie, as they crossed to Kensington Gardens. "What do you +think of her?"</p> + +<p>"Of Mrs. Ross?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think she is a very pleasant woman."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but," said Mr. Ogilvie, "how did she strike you? Do you think she +is as fascinating as some men think her?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what men think about her," said Macleod. "It never +occurred to me to ask whether a married woman was fascinating or not. I +thought she was a friendly woman—talkative, amusing, clever enough."</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>"That is an extraordinary fancy she has taken for Gertrude White," Mr. +Ogilvie remarked.</p> + +<p>"Why extraordinary?" the other asked, with sudden interest.</p> + +<p>"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?—his head +is a sort of British Museum of antiquities; but he is of some use to +these people—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."</p> + +<p>They walked on a bit in silence.</p> + +<p>"I think you made a good impression on Mrs. Ross," said Ogilvie, coolly. +"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—and his wife gives very good dances—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—the new beauty: Lady +Beauregard is very clever at picking people up."</p> + +<p>"Will Miss White be there?" 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>"Well, no," said he, slowly, "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?"</p> + +<p>"I think that will do very well," 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—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>"You seem very anxious to see Miss White again," said Mr. Ogilvie, with +a slight smile.</p> + +<p>"I wish to make all the friends I can while I am in London," said +Macleod. "What shall I do in this howling wilderness when you go back to +Aldershot?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"No?" said Macleod, gravely; "that is a great pity."</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? "When the heart of a man is oppressed with +care." 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—or perhaps make fools of themselves to +raise a laugh—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—reducing the chances of her coming—the more empty the theatre +seemed to become.</p> + +<p>"At least we can go along to that house you mentioned," said he to his +companion.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be disappointed yet," said Ogilvie; "I know she will be +here."</p> + +<p>"With Mrs. Ross?"</p> + +<p>"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—no end of a fuss. And Mrs. Ross is very proud that so +distinguished a person is her particular friend."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean the actress?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and makes her the big feature of her parties at present; and +society is rather inclined to make a pet of her, too—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."</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—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—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—the sound of a voice he knew—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—her canary on her finger—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 "A wee bird cam' to our ha' door?" 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? "Coquette, coquette" (Macleod could have cried to +her), "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." 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—as it speedily did—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!—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,—</p> + +<p>"Don't you see who has come into that corner box up there?"</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>"I wonder how often Mrs. Ross has seen this piece?" Ogilvie said. "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?"</p> + +<p>"No," Macleod said, absently.</p> + +<p>"I shall tell them," said the facetious boy as he rose and got hold of +his crush hat, "that you are meditating a leap on to the stage to rescue +the distressed damsel."</p> + +<p>And then his conscience smote him.</p> + +<p>"Mind you," said he, "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."</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—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—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—if these unwomanly +tears—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—timidly smiling, so that +her eyes seemed to take in all the theatre at once—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>"Mrs. Ross wants to see you for a minute," Ogilvie said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Macleod answered, absently.</p> + +<p>"And we have time yet, if you like, to get into a hansom and drive along +to Lady Beauregard's."</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>"Well, how did you like it?" she said.</p> + +<p>He could not answer offhand. He was afraid he might say too much.</p> + +<p>"It is like her singing," he stammered, at length. "I am not used to +these things. I have never seen anything like that before."</p> + +<p>"We shall soon have her in a better piece," Mrs. Ross said. "It is being +written for her, That is very pretty, but slight. She is capable of +greater things."</p> + +<p>"She is capable of anything," said Macleod, simply, "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—it is like +magic."</p> + +<p>"And did Mr. Ogilvie give you my message?" said Mrs. Ross. "My husband +and I are going down to see a yacht race on the Thames to-morrow—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?"</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_38" id="Page_38" />Oh, yes, certainly—thank you very much," Macleod said, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Then you'd better meet us at Charing Cross, at ten sharp," Colonel Ross +said; "so don't let Ogilvie keep you up too late with brandy and soda. A +special will take us down."</p> + +<p>"Brandy and soda!" Mr. Ogilvie exclaimed. "I am going to take him along +for a few minutes to Lady Beauregard's—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?"</p> + +<p>"I am waiting for an answer," 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—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>"Miss White's compliments, ma'am, and she will be very pleased to meet +you at Charing Cross at ten to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"And Miss White is a very brave young lady to attempt anything of the +kind," observed Mr. Ogilvie, confidentially, as they all went +downstairs; "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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we shall take care of that," said Colonel Ross. "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."</p> + +<p>They stepped into their carriage and drove off.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Macleod's companion, "are you tired?"</p> + +<p>"Tired? I have done nothing all day."</p> + +<p>"Shall we get into a hansom and drive along to Lady Beauregard's?"</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_39" id="Page_39" />Certainly, if you like. I suppose they won't throw you over again?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Mr. Ogilvie, as he once more adventured his person in a +cab. "And I can tell you it is much better—if you look at the thing +philosophically, as poor wretches like you and me must—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—HOLD UP!"</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>"These vehicles give one some excitement," Macleod said—or rather +roared, for Piccadilly was full of carriages. "A squall in Loch Scridain +is nothing to them."</p> + +<p>"You'll get used to them in time," 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—the +flashing lights of the broughams, the brilliant windows, the stepping +across the pavement of a strangely dressed dignitary from some foreign +land—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—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—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>"Who is the man with the blue ribbon and the diamond star?" he asked of +Mr. Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>"That is Monsieur le Marquis himself—that is your host," the young +gentleman replied—only Macleod could nor tell why he was obviously +trying to repress some covert merriment.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you hear?" Mr. Ogilvie said at length. "Don't you know what he +called you? That man will be the death of me—for he's always at it. He +announced you as Sir Thief Macleod—I will swear he did."</p> + +<p>"I should not have thought he had so much historical knowledge," Macleod +answered, gravely. "He must have been reading up about the clans."</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—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>"Don't you think the Princess is looking pale?" he was asked.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_41" id="Page_41" />I thought she looked very pretty—I never saw her before," 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>"I only saw her as she was leaving," said he. "We came late. We were at +the Piccadilly Theatre."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you saw Miss Gertrude White," said this stout lady; and he was glad +to see her eyes light up with some interest. "She is very clever, is she +not—and so pretty and engaging. I wish I knew some one who knew her."</p> + +<p>"I know some friends of hers," Macleod said, rather timidly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you, really? Do you think she would give me a morning +performance for my Fund?"</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>"I should think that she would," 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>"<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none" +title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Oglivie'">Ogilvie</ins>," said he, "who is that lady in the green satin?"</p> + +<p>"The Duchess of Wexford."</p> + +<p>"Has she a Fund?"</p> + +<p>"A what?"</p> + +<p>"A Fund—a charitable Fund of some sort."</p> + +<p>"Oh, let me see. I think she is getting up money for a new training +ship—turning the young ragamuffins about the streets into sailors, +don't you know."</p> + +<p>"Do you think Miss White would give a morning performance for that +Fund?"</p> + +<p>"Miss White! Miss White! Miss White!" said Lieutenant Ogilvie. "I think +Miss White has got into your head."</p> + +<p>"But the lady asked me."</p> + +<p>"Well, I should say it was exactly the thing that Miss White would like +to do—get mixed up with a whole string of duchesses and +marchionessses—a capital advertisement—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."</p> + +<p>"You are a very shrewd boy, Ogilvie," Macleod observed, "I don't know +how you ever got so much wisdom into so small a head."</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 "lock" for "loch;" a Mackenzie who had never seen the Lewis; a Mac +Alpine who had never heard the proverb, "The hills, the Mac Alpines, and +the devil came into the world at the same time!"</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>—that treacherous and +mocking fire—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—what was the air the furious orchestra played?—was in his +ears; sleep or rest was out of the question.</p> + +<p>"Oscar!" he called. "Oscar, my lad, let us go out!"</p> + +<p>When he stealthily went downstairs, and opened the door and passed into +the street, behold! the new day was shining abroad—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—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?—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—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—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—after +his newspaper had been read—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—when you imagine that you yourself are standing before +yourself—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—perhaps he went +early on the chance of finding her there alone—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>"Are you looking for Mrs. Ross," said she, "like myself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," 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—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>"I always come early," said she, in the most matter-of-fact way. "I +cannot bear hurry in catching a train."</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>"Ought we to take tickets?"</p> + +<p>That was what she actually said; but what those eloquent, innocent eyes +seemed to say was, "<i>Can you read what we have to tell you? Don't you +know what a simple and confiding soul appeals to you?—clear as the +daylight in its truth. Cannot you look through us and see the trusting, +tender soul within?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we had better wait for Colonel Ross," 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>"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."</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>"Oh indeed," he stammered. "It was a great pleasure to me—and a +surprise. Lieutenant Ogilvie played a trick on me. He did not tell me +before we went that—that you were to appear."</p> + +<p>She looked amused.</p> + +<p>"You did not know, then, when we met at Mrs. Ross's that I was engaged +at the Piccadilly Theatre?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least," 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>"You should have let me send you a box. We have another piece in +rehearsal. Perhaps you will come to see that."</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. "<i>Ought we to take tickets?</i>" 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—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—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 "A Highland lad my love +was born." 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>"They are standing by the main halyards," said Colonel Ross to his +women-folk. "Now watch for the next signal."</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>"How beautiful they are!—like splendid swans," 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>"A swan has a body," said Macleod. "These things seem to me to be all +wings. It is all canvas, and no hull."</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>"If they were up in our part of the world," said he, "a puff of wind +from the Gribun Cliffs would send the whole fleet to the bottom."</p> + +<p>"They know better than to try," Colonel Ross said, "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."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," said Miss White, with emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you need not be afraid," her host said, laughing. "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."</p> + +<p>"So I may abandon myself to complete idleness without concern?"</p> + +<p>"Most certainly."</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>"But if the chances are all equal, why should your yacht be better than +mine?" 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>"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," she said, looking away across the troubled waters, "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."</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—Rose Leaf—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>"O this is no my ain lassie,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Fair though the lassie be."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"You are in great favor, to-day, Hugh," Mrs. Ross said to her husband. +"You will have to ask the band-master to lunch with us."</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—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>"Now for lunch," 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—heard through the open +skylight—still played,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"O this is no my ain lassie,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Kind though the lassie be."<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—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 "Rule, Britannia." 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 "Man overboard!" 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>"I think you have won the sweepstakes, Miss White," Macleod said. "Your +enemy has lost eight minutes."</p> + +<p>She was not thinking of sweepstakes. She seemed to have been greatly +frightened by the accident.</p> + +<p>"It would have been so dreadful to see a man drowned before your +eyes—in the midst of a mere holiday excursion."</p> + +<p>"Drowned?" he cried. "There? If a sailor lets himself get drowned in +this water, with all these boats about, he deserves it."</p> + +<p>"But there are many sailors who cannot swim at all."</p> + +<p>"More shame for them," said he.</p> + +<p>"Why, Sir Keith," said Mrs. Ross, laughing, "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."</p> + +<p>"That is quite true," said he, gravely. "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."</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>"I can very well understand," she said, "how the people there fancied +they heard the mermaids singing—amidst so much mystery, and with the +awfulness of the sea around them."</p> + +<p>"But we have had living singers," said Macleod, "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—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—Fionaghal, they called her, that is the Fair Stranger. I do not +know why they called her the Fair Stranger—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."</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>"What did you say was the name of that mysterious stranger?" asked Mrs. +Ross—"that poetess from unknown lands?"</p> + +<p>"Fionaghal," he answered.</p> + +<p>She turned to her husband.</p> + +<p>"Hugh," she said, "let me introduce you to our mysterious guest. This is +Fionaghal—this is the Fair Stranger from the islands—this is the +poetess whose melodies the mermaids have picked up. If she only had a +harp, now—with sea-weed hanging from it—and an oval mirror—"</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—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—getting, if possible, into some corner where he might pursue +his profound pyschological investigations unseen—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—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—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—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—this maiden who had come +over the seas to the dark shores of the isles—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—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>"Let alone my dog, you fellow!" 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>"Is it your dog, sir?" 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>"Yes, he is my dog; and a nice fix he has got me into," said Macleod, +standing aside to let the Empress Maria Theresa pass by in her +resplendent costume. "I suppose I must walk home with him again. Oscar, +Oscar, how dare you?"</p> + +<p>"If you please, sir," said a juvenile voice behind him, "if Mr. —— +will let me, I will take the dog. I know where to tie him up."</p> + +<p>Macleod turned.</p> + +<p>"<i>Co an so?</i>" said he, looking down at the chubby-faced boy in the +kilts, who had his pipes under his arm. "Don't you know the Gaelic?"</p> + +<p>"I am only learning," said the young musician. "Will I take the dog, +sir?"</p> + +<p>"March along, then, Phiobaire bhig!" Macleod said. "He will follow me, +if he will not follow you."</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. ——, and Little Piper walked +along to this side room, and there Oscar was properly secured.</p> + +<p>"And I will get him some water, sir, if he wants it," said the boy in +the kilts.</p> + +<p>"Very well," Macleod said. "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.'"</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_57" id="Page_57" />I am sure John Maclean can play it," said the small piper.</p> + +<p>"Who is he?"</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>"I think," said Macleod, "that I am coming down in a little time to make +the acquaintance of your young pipers, if you will let me."</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>"They call it the Windsor uniform," said the clown. "<i>I</i> think it mean. +I sha'n't come in a fancy dress again, if stitching on a red collar will +do."</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>"Shall I tell you a secret, Lady ——?" said he. "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—"</p> + +<p>"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."</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:—</p> + +<p>"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. +——, out of the way. Now shall I send him to you? Will you talk to +him?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean to do?"</p> + +<p>"I want to give them a dance. Why should you have all the dancing up +here?"</p> + +<p>"Mind, I am not responsible. What shall I talk to him about?"</p> + +<p>Macleod considered for a moment.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Seriously?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"Oh, Mr. ——," said he, with great seriousness, "I am desired by Lady +—— 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."</p> + +<p>"The Prince may come at any moment," said Mr. —— doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"He won't be in such a hurry as all that, surely."</p> + +<p>So the worthy man went upstairs; and the moment he was gone Macleod shut +the door.</p> + +<p>"Now, you piper boys!" he called aloud, "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?'"</p> + +<p>"Yes," "Yes," "Yes," "Yes," "Yes," "Yes," came from the six pipers, all +standing in a row, with the drones over their shoulders and the chanters +in their fingers.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_59" id="Page_59" />Very well, then—off you go! Now, boys and girls, are all ready? +Pipers, 'Mrs. Macleod of Raasay!'"</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>"Put your lungs into it, pipers!" Macleod cried out, "Well played, boys! +You are fit to play before a prince?"</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—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. ——, but also the Prince +himself. Macleod was left standing alone in the middle of the floor.</p> + +<p>"Sir Keith Macleod?" said his Royal Highness, with a smile.</p> + +<p>Macleod bowed low.</p> + +<p>"Lady —— 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."</p> + +<p>"I think your Royal Highness could make amends for that," said Macleod.</p> + +<p>There was an inquiring glance.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I think that might be done," said the Prince, as he turned to leave. +"And I am glad to have made your acquaintance, although in—"</p> + +<p>"In the character of a dancing-master," 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>"Have you got a tart, and an orange, and a shilling?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"I have got the word of a prince for it," he said to himself, as he went +out of the room; "and they shall not go home with empty pockets."</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—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—a trifle artificial, no doubt—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—</p> + +<p>"Sir Keith Macleod, I think?"</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—fixing the recognition by means of the +gold spectacles.</p> + +<p>"Mr. White?" said he.</p> + +<p>"I am more disguised than you are," the old gentleman said, with a +smile. "It is a foolish notion of my daughter's; but she would have me +come."</p> + +<p>His daughter! Macleod turned in a bewildered way to that gay crowd under +the brilliant lights.</p> + +<p>"Was that Miss White?" said he.</p> + +<p>"The Duchess of Devonshire. Didn't you recognize her? I am afraid she +will be very tired to-morrow; but she would come."</p> + +<p>He caught sight of her again—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>"<a name="Page_62" id="Page_62" />No," he stammered, "I—I did not recognize her. I thought the lady who +came with you had intensely dark eyes."</p> + +<p>"She is said to be very clever in making up," her father said, coolly +and sententiously. "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—not the character she is presenting. Did you observe my +daughter's eyebrows?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I did not," said Macleod, humbly.</p> + +<p>"Here she comes. Look at them."</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—with those +brilliant lips smiling—about the various features of the gay scene +before them. Macleod avoided looking at her face.</p> + +<p>"What a bonny boy your friend Mr. Ogilvie is!" said she, glancing across +the room.</p> + +<p>He did not answer.</p> + +<p>"But he does not look much of a soldier," she continued. "I don't think +I should be afraid of him if I were a man."</p> + +<p>He answered, somewhat distantly:—</p> + +<p>"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—it has a great deal of +meaning in it, that saying—'<i>You do not know what sword is in the +scabbard until it is drawn.</i>'"</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_63" id="Page_63" />What did you say was the proverb?" she asked; and for second her eyes +met his; but she immediately withdrew them startled by the cold +austerity of his look.</p> + +<p>"'<i>You do not know what sword is in the scabbard until it is drawn</i>,'" +said he, carelessly. "There is a good deal of meaning in it."</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>"And of all the parts you ever played in," she says, "which one did you +like the best Gerty?"</p> + +<p>"This one," is the gentle answer.</p> + +<p>"What one?"</p> + +<p>"Being at home with you and papa, and having no bother at all, and +nothing to think of."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it," says the other, with the brutal frankness of +thirteen. "You couldn't live without the theatre, Gerty—and the +newspapers talking about you—and people praising you—and bouquets—"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't I?" says Miss White, with a smile, as she gently lays her hand +on her sister's curls.</p> + +<p>"No," continues the wise young lady. "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—and that is to get married."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</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:—</p> + +<p>"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—and to make them—about actresses. You would be no +good at all, Carry—"</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," the younger sister said, promptly, "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."</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>"For shame, Carry! Do you think people marry from such motives as that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Carry; but she had, at least, guessed.</p> + +<p>"I should like my husband to have money, certainly," Miss White said, +frankly; and here she flung the MS. book from her on to a neighboring +chair. "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—"</p> + +<p>"Your husband might not wish you to remain an actress," said Miss Carry.</p> + +<p>"Then he would never be my husband," the elder sister said, with +decision. "I have not worked hard for nothing. Just when I begin to +think I can do something—when I think I can get beyond those +coquettish, drawing-room, simpering parts that people run after +now—just when the very name of Mrs. Siddons, or Rachael, or any of the +great actresses makes my heart jump—when I have ambition and a <a name="Page_65" id="Page_65" />fair +chance, and all that—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?"</p> + +<p>She certainly seemed very clear on that point.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"And it shall not be taken away from its pretty theatre, it sha'n't!" +said she, pettingly; "and it shall not be asked to go away with any +great ugly Bluebeard, and be shut up in a lonely house—"</p> + +<p>"Go away, Carry," said she, releasing herself. "I wonder why you began +talking such nonsense. What do you know about all those things?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! very well," 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. "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." She flung two +or three rose petals at her sister. "I believe you're the biggest flirt +that ever lived, Gerty. You could make any man you liked marry you in +ten minutes."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could manage to have certain schoolgirls whipped and sent to +bed."</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>"Shall I put dressing in the salad, miss?" she said, with scarcely any +trace of foreign accent.</p> + +<p>"Not yet, Marie," said Miss White. "I will make the dressing first. +Bring me a large plate, and the cruet-stand, and a spoon and fork, and +some salt."</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>"<i>Oh, a Highland lad my love was born—and the Lowland laws he held in +scorn—</i>"</p> + +<p>"Carry, don't make a fool of yourself!" said the other flushing angrily.</p> + +<p>Carry flung her imaginary partner aside.</p> + +<p>"There is no use making any pretence," said she, sharply. "You know +quite well why you are making that salad dressing."</p> + +<p>"Did you never see me make salad dressing before?" said the other, quite +as sharply.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>What else had this precocious brain ferreted out?</p> + +<p>"Yes, and that's why you bought papa a new necktie," continued the +tormenter; and then she added, triumphantly, "<i>But he hasn't put it on +this morning, ha—Gerty?</i>"</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>"Sir Keith Macleod, miss," said she.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gerty, you're caught!" 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>"Ask him to step this way, please," she said.</p> + +<p>And then the subtle imagination of this demon of thirteen jumped to +another conclusion.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gerty, you want to show him that you are a good housekeeper—that +you can make salad—"</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>"I have taken the liberty of bringing you a little present, Miss +White—no, it is a large present—that reached me this morning," said +he. "I want you to see one of our Highland salmon. He is a splendid +fellow—twenty-six pounds four ounces, my landlady says. My cousin Janet +sent him to me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but, Sir Keith, we cannot rob you," Miss White said, as she still +demurely plied her fork. "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."</p> + +<p>"The fact is," said he, "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."</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:—</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>Macleod turned and regarded this new-comer with an unmistakable "Who is +this?"—"<i>Co an so?</i>"—in his air.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is my sister Carry, Sir Keith," said Miss White. "I forgot you +had not seen her."</p> + +<p>"How do you do?" said he, in a kindly way; and for a second he put his +hand on the light curls as her father might have done. "I suppose you +like having holidays?"</p> + +<p>From that moment she became his deadly enemy. To be patted on the head, +as if she were a child, an infant—and that in the presence of the +sister whom she had just been lecturing.</p> + +<p>"Yes, thank you," 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. +"Jane, take this thing down to the cellar at once! The whole house +smells of it."</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>"I don't see how it is," said he, "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—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."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is very pretty and quiet," said she, and the small fingers +pulled to pieces one of the rose leaves that Carry had thrown at her. +"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—But perhaps papa will take me there some day."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," said he; "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."</p> + +<p>Here a bell rang, and at the same moment Mr. White made his appearance.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Sir Keith? Luncheon is ready, my dear—luncheon is +ready—luncheon is ready."</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—all these things +showed a household well managed. Nay, this iced claret-cup—was it not +of her own composition?—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,—</p> + +<p>"Papa, what is the matter with you? Has anything gone wrong this +morning?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear child," said he, "don't speak of it. It is my memory—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—"</p> + +<p>"But what is it, papa?" his daughter insisted.</p> + +<p>"My dear, my dear, I know I have the lines somewhere; and Lord —— 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—for only one line. I think I +know the other three,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span >'Old wine to drink.<br /></span> +<span >Old wrongs let sink,<br /></span> +<span > * * * *<br /></span> +<span >Old friends in need.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It is the third line that has escaped me—dear, dear me! I fear my brain +is going."</p> + +<p>"But I will hunt for it, papa," said she; "I will get the lines for you. +Don't you trouble."</p> + +<p>"No, no, no, child," said he, with somewhat of a pompous air. "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."</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; "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—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."</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure, papa," said Miss Carry, spitefully, "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."</p> + +<p>"The <i>res angustæ domi</i>," said the father, sententiously, "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."</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>"It seems a little hard, sir," said Macleod to the old man, "that an +artist is not to have any life of his or her own at all; that he or she +should become merely a—a—a sort of ten-minutes' emotionalist."</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 "the advice of the bell of +Scoon"—"<i>The thing that concerns you not meddle not with.</i>"</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—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—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>"You said you were going to the Zoological Gardens," she said.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_72" id="Page_72" />Yes," he answered, "I am. I have seen everything I want to see in +London but that."</p> + +<p>"Because Gerty and I might walk across the Park with you, and show you +the way."</p> + +<p>"I very much wish you would," said he, "if you have nothing better to +do."</p> + +<p>"I will see if papa does not want me," 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>"I am glad of any excuse," she said, with a smile, "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."</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>"Then why should you take the part at all?" said he, bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Once you have given yourself up to a particular calling—you must +accept its little annoyances," she said, frankly. "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—you see, he had no son to +send to college. I think he is far more anxious about my succeeding than +I am myself."</p> + +<p>"But you have succeeded," said Macleod. It was, indeed, the least he +could say, with all his dislike of the subject.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do not call that success," said she, simply. "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—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—or perhaps it is mere +vanity?—if you would like to try what is in you—"</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_73" id="Page_73" />Gerty wants to be a Mrs. Siddons: that's it," 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>"I suppose you are very fond of animals?" Miss White said.</p> + +<p>"I am indeed," said he, suddenly brightening up. "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—you cannot help doing that if you hear the rabbit squealing +with fright long before the weasel is at him—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—now +there are two; and one of them I hate, the other I fear."</p> + +<p>"Fear?" she said: the slight flash of surprise in her eyes was eloquent +enough. But he did not notice it.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, rather gloomily. "I suppose it is superstition, or you +may have it in your blood; but the horror I have of the eyes of a +snake—I cannot tell you of it. Perhaps I was frightened when I was a +child—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—it is a +compliment—"</p> + +<p>"But surely there are no serpents to be afraid of in the Highlands?" +said Miss White. She was looking rather curiously at him.</p> + +<p>"No," said he, in the same gloomy way. "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—"</p> + +<p>He shuddered slightly—perhaps it was only an expression of disgust.</p> + +<p>"I have heard," he continued, "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—an adder getting to your neck—"</p> + +<p>"I would rather not think of it," she said, quickly. "What is the other +animal—that you hate?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he said, lightly, "that is a very different affair—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—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."</p> + +<p>"But you speak of it as having been there. What became of it?"</p> + +<p>He glanced at her rather nervously—like a schoolboy—and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you?" he said, rather shamefacedly. "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—or it was afraid—and so I caught him by the back of the neck and +flung him out. I don't know anything more about him."</p> + +<p>"Could he fly?" said the big-eyed Carry, who had been quite interested +in this tragic tale.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Macleod said, modestly. "There was no use asking him. +All he could say was, '<i>Come and kiz me;</i>' and I got tired of that."</p> + +<p>"Then you have murdered him!" said the elder sister in an awestricken +voice; and she pretended to withdraw a bit from him. "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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss White," said he, in protest, "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—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, pray, don't," she said, "if it is one of those terrible legends—"</p> + +<p>"But I must tell you," said he, "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," he admitted, "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—so the story says—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—you may +imagine the eagerness with which the poor fellow saw it coming down to +him—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."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_76" id="Page_76" />Then I am glad of Culloden," said she, with decision, "for destroying +such a race of fiends."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you must not say that," he protested, laughing. "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."</p> + +<p>"I don't know how far you are to be trusted," said she, pretending to +look at him with some doubts.</p> + +<p>Now they reached the gate of the gardens.</p> + +<p>"Do let us go in, Gerty," said Miss Carry. "You know you always get +hints for your dresses from the birds—you would never have thought of +that flamingo pink and white if you had not been walking through here—"</p> + +<p>"I will go in for a while if you like, Carry," 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—always barring the two he had +mentioned—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—like himself, they were +strangers in a strange land.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said he to the splendid red deer, which was walking about the +paddock with his velvety horns held proudly in the air, "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?"</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—so different from the soft dark eyes of the +roe—that had long eyelashes on the upper lid. He rubbed her nose.</p> + +<p>"And wouldn't you rather be up on the heather, munching the young grass +and drinking out of the burn?"</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>"Poor old chap!" he said to one perched high on an old stump, "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—dead fish, I suppose?"</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>"Oh yes," he said, "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?"</p> + +<p>There was a solitary kittiwake in a cage devoted to sea-birds, nearly +all of which were foreigners.</p> + +<p>"You poor little kittiwake," said he, "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."</p> + +<p>"Why," said he, to his human companion, "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."</p> + +<p>"You will not go without looking in at the serpents," said she, with a +slight smile.</p> + +<p>He hesitated for a second.</p> + +<p>"No," said he; "I think I will not go in to see them."</p> + +<p>"But you must," said she, cruelly. "You will see they are not such +terrible creatures when they are shut up in glass boxes."</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>"Now, come and look at this splendid fellow," said Miss White, who, with +her sister, was leaning over the rail. "Look <a name="Page_78" id="Page_78" />at his splendid bars of +color! Do you see the beautiful blue sheen on its scales?"</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. "Hideous!" was all he said. And then his eyes was fixed on +the eyes of the animal—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>"I don't think the anaconda is poisonous at all," said she, lightly.</p> + +<p>"But if you were to meet that beast in a jungle," said he, "what +difference would that make!"</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—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—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>"I felt rather faint," said he, in a low voice—and he did not turn to +look at them as he spoke—"the air is close in that room."</p> + +<p>They moved away. He looked around—at the beautiful green of the trees, +and the blue sky, and the sunlight on the path—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—the two girls in especial being much +interested in certain pheasants, whose colors of plumage they thought +would look very pretty in a dress—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>"Good-night, Macleod!"—"Good-night!"—"Good-night!" 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—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. "Good-night, Macleod!" 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>"It was awfully good-natured of Beauregard to bring six of your people +down and take them back again," observed Lieutenant Ogilvie to his +companion. "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."</p> + +<p>"The people have been very kind to me," said Macleod, simply. "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—"</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to you about that, Macleod," said his companion. "Shall +we go upstairs again? I have left my hat and coat there."</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>"Macleod," said he, "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?"</p> + +<p>"And if it is, why not drink it and say no more about it? I think they +enjoyed themselves pretty well this evening—don't you, Ogilvie?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Ah?" said Macleod, "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?—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."</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>"Why," said he, "I will tell you a secret, Ogilvie. You know my cousin +Janet—she is the kindest-hearted of all the women I know—and when I +was coming away she gave me £2000, just in case I should need it."</p> + +<p>"£2000!" exclaimed Ogilvie. "Did she think you were going to buy +Westminster Abbey during the course of your holidays?" And then he +looked at the table before him, and a new idea seemed to strike him. +"You don't mean to say, Macleod, that it is your cousin's money—"</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,—</p> + +<p>"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—I suppose +she knew that our family never was very good at saving money—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."</p> + +<p>"By the way, Macleod," said Ogilvie, "you have never gone to Paris, as +you intended."</p> + +<p>"No," said he, trying to balance three nectarines one on the top of the +other, "I have not gone to Paris. I have made enough friends in London. +I have had plenty to occupy the time. And now, Ogilvie," he added, +brightly, "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—and the garden all +lighted up—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—"</p> + +<p>"It will cost you £200 or £300 at least," said Ogilvie, sharply.</p> + +<p>"What then? You give your friends a pleasant evening, and you show them +that you are not ungrateful," 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,—</p> + +<p>"Is Miss White to be one of your guests?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so," said he. "The theatre will be closed at the end of this +week."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you have been a good many times to the theatre."</p> + +<p>"To the Piccadilly Theatre?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I have been only once to the Piccadilly Theatre—when you and I went +together," 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—some boating party +getting home through the dark shadows of the river-side trees.</p> + +<p>"It is a beautiful life you have here in the south," Macleod said, after +a time, "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—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," said he, suddenly, straightening himself up, +"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—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—don't you remember Hamish?—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?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, it is all very well," said Lieutenant Ogilvie. "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—and it isn't every one gets the chance you offer me—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."</p> + +<p>"The 20th? So be it. Then you will have the blackcock added in."</p> + +<p>"When do you leave?"</p> + +<p>"On the 1st of August—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—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—several centuries +ago you would think, judging by their stories. Her father got £28,000 +from the government when his slaves were emancipated. I wish I could get +the old admiral up to Dare—he and the mother would have some stories to +tell, I think. But you don't like long journeys at ninety-two."</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—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. +"<i>The thing that concerns you not, meddle not with:</i>" 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>"You poor dog," said he, "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?"</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?—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?—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—some slight underchord of +sentiment struck amidst the careless joy of a young man's holiday—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>"What an odd meeting!" said he. "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."</p> + +<p>"I am rather tired," said she; "but I have only two more nights, and +then my holiday begins."</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>"Gerty," said the younger sister, as she screwed up the gas, "wouldn't +the name of Lady Macleod look well in a play-bill?"</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—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—or rather those of them +who had remained in town till the end of the season—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—looking round the garden just as if she +had been one of his guests—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>"You must take her in yourself, Macleod," said that properly constituted +youth. "If you outrage the sacred laws of precedence—"</p> + +<p>"I mean to take Miss Rawlinson in to supper," said Macleod; "she is the +oldest woman here, and I think, my best friend."</p> + +<p>"I thought you might wish to give Miss White the place of honor," 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>"Well," said he, "I have got pretty nearly all my people together now, +Mrs. Ross."</p> + +<p>"But where is Gertrude White?" said Mrs. Ross; "surely she is to be +here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I think so," said he. "Her father and herself both promised to +come. You know her holidays have begun now."</p> + +<p>"It is a good thing for that girl," said Miss Rawlinson, in her quick, +<i>staccato</i> fashion, "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—— 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?"</p> + +<p>"But you know Gerty is quite unspoiled," said Mrs. Ross, warmly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, so far," said the old lady, "So far she retains the courtesy of +being hypocritical."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Rawlinson, I won't have you say such things of Gerty White!" +Mrs. Ross protested. "You are a wicked old woman—isn't she Hugh?"</p> + +<p>"I am saying it to her credit," continued the old lady, with much +composure. "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—a recognized beauty—doesn't take the trouble +to be hypocritical. Now Miss White does."</p> + +<p>"It is an odd sort of compliment," said Colonel Ross, laughing. "What do +you think of it Macleod?"</p> + +<p>"These are too great refinements for my comprehension," said he, +modestly. "I think if a pretty woman is uncivil to you, it is easy for +you to turn on your heel and go away."</p> + +<p>"I did not say uncivil—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—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?'"</p> + +<p>All this was said in a half-jesting way; and it certainly did not at all +represent—so far as Macleod had ever made out—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—Mrs. Ross.</p> + +<p>"As for Miss White's father," continued the old lady, with a little +laugh, "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—and earns a handsome +income—and he enjoys himself in picking up bits of curiosities."</p> + +<p>"Now that is really unfair," said Mrs. Ross, seriously. "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—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," 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>"O, Willie brew'd a peck o'maut,"<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—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—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>"Last May a braw wooer,'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>the band played now; but they scarcely listened.</p> + +<p>"Where is your piper, Sir Keith?" said Lady Beauregard.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_91" id="Page_91" />At this moment," said he, "I should not wonder if he was down at the +shore, waiting for me."</p> + +<p>"You are going away quite soon, then?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow. But I don't wish to speak of it. I should like to-night to +last forever."</p> + +<p>Lady Beauregard was interrupted by her neighbor.</p> + +<p>"What has pleased you, then, so much?" said his hostess, looking up at +him. "London? Or the people in it? Or any one person in it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," he said, laughingly, "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—just as they +do at the city dinners—and I will join you too."</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>"You know it?" said Macleod to Miss White.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said she looking down.</p> + +<p>"Will you be my partner?"</p> + +<p>"With pleasure," she answered, but there was some little surprise in her +voice which he at once detected.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said he, "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."</p> + +<p>"Do you know the sword-dance?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Any one can know it," said he; "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."</p> + +<p>"I hope you will show us your skill to-night," she said, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Do you think any one can dance the sword-dance without the pipes?" 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—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>"It is like fairyland!" 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>"I should begin to believe that romance was possible," she said, with a +smile, "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—I +don't have a chance of believing in it."</p> + +<p>"Do you have a chance of believing in anything," said he, "on the +stage?"</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you," she said, gently; for she was sure he would +not mean the rudeness that his words literally conveyed.</p> + +<p>"And perhaps I cannot explain," said he. "But—but your father was +talking the other day about your giving yourself up altogether to your +art—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?—that you play with emotions and beliefs +until you have no faith in any one—none left for yourself; it is only +the material of your art. Would you not rather like to live your own +life?"</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, "<i>This man hates the stage because he is jealous +of its hold on my life</i>," 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>"Sometimes I have thought of that—it is so strange to hear my own +doubts repeated. If I could choose my own life—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."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he; "and you go on indulging in those doses of fictitious +sentiment until—But I am afraid the night air is too cold for you. +Shall we go back?"</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>"I am going to ask a favor of you," he said, in a low voice. "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—as some +little token of remembrance."</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—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>"Ay, your leddyship, it is very bad," complains the distracted Hamish, +"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."</p> + +<p>"No, I will not take the pony, Hamish," said the tall, white-haired +dame, "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."</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>"And if ever you put wind in your pipes, you will put wind in your pipes +this day, Donald," said he to the red-haired lad. "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."</p> + +<p>"The 'Farewell to Gibraltar!'" said Donald, peevishly, for he was bound +in honor to let no man interfere with his proper business. "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?'"</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. "Fhir a bhata," the men +sung, until Donald struck in with his pipes, and the wild skirl of "The +Barren Rocks of Aden" 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—surely—these two figures?</p> + +<p>"Why, it is the mother—and Janet!" he cried.</p> + +<p>He hastily gave the glass to his companion.</p> + +<p>"Look!" said he. "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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I think it is the ladies," said the captain; and then he added, +with a friendly smile, "and I think it is to see you all the sooner, Sir +Keith, that they have come down to the shore."</p> + +<p>"Then," said he, "I must go down and get my gillie, and show him his +future home."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>Macleod's gillie rose—or, rather, got down—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—who were +now hurrying about to receive the boat from Dare—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>"Now, Johnny, look right ahead. Do you see the big house on the cliffs +over yonder?"</p> + +<p>The child, still clinging on to his protector, looked all round with the +dull, pale eyes, and at length said,—</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Can't you see that house, poor chap? Well, do you see that boat over +there? You must be able to see that."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Come along, then."</p> + +<p>For now the wild skirl of Donald's pipes was plainly audible; and the +various packages—the new rifle, the wooden case containing the +wonderful dresses for Lady Macleod and her niece, and what not—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 "Heights of +Alma" as though he would rend the skies.</p> + +<p>"Hold your noise, Donald!" his master called to him. "You will have +plenty of time to play the pipes in the evening."</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 "Lady Mary Ramsay's Reel." 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—that of Macleod's +voice:</p> + +<p>"<i>Stand by lads!... Down with her!</i>"—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—dripping as he was—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>"Confound it, Hamish!" Macleod said, laughing, "leave all those things +till after dinner."</p> + +<p>"Oh, ay, oh ay, Sir Keith, we will hef plenty of time after dinner," +said Hamish, just as if he were one of the party, but very nervously +working with the ends of his thumbs all the time, "and I will tell you +of the fine big stag that has been coming down every night—every night, +as I am a living man—to Mrs. Murdoch's corn: and I wass saying to her, +'Just hold your tongue, Mrs. Murdoch'—that wass what I will say to +her—'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—oh no, no more at all; there will be no more +trouble about the stag when Sir Keith comes home.'"</p> + +<p>And old Hamish laughed at his own wit, but it was in a sort of excited +way.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Hamish, I want you to do this for me," Macleod said; and +instantly the face of the old man—it was a fine face, too, with its +aquiline nose, and grizzled hair, and keen hawk-like eyes—was full of +an eager attention. "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."</p> + +<p>"Where is he to go to?" said Hamish, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I will let no man or boy clean the guns for you but myself, Sir Keith," +the old man said, quite simply, and without a shadow of disrespect, "I +will hef no risks of the kind."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then; but go and get the boy, and make him at home as much +as you can. Feed him up."</p> + +<p>"Who is it, Keith?" his cousin said, "that you are speaking of as if he +was a sheep or a calf?"</p> + +<p>"Faith," said he, laughing, "if the philanthropists heard of it, they +would prosecute me for slave-stealing. I bought the boy—for a +sovereign."</p> + +<p>"I think you have made a bad bargain, Keith," 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>"Well," said he, "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," Macleod +added, carelessly.</p> + +<p>"But you have not told us why you brought him up here," his mother said.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said he, with a sort of laugh, "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—I have got the +address, but I did not know there were such quarters in London—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."</p> + +<p>"You were quite right, Keith," his cousin said, gravely; "You run a +great risk. Do they hang slavers?"</p> + +<p>"Mother," 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, "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—some kilts, maybe—when his legs get +stronger."</p> + +<p>Whatever Keith Macleod did was sure to be right in his mother's eyes, +and she only said, with a laugh,—</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Mother, I don't care what the people say."</p> + +<p>"And indeed I know that," 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>"Johnny," said Macleod, "here are two ladies who will be very kind to +you, so you needn't be afraid to live here."</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>"And are you very tired?" said Janet Macleod, in that soft voice of hers +that all children loved.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the child.</p> + +<p>"Kott bless me!" cried Hamish, "I did not know that!"—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—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—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>"Mother," said he, "I have not tasted fresh air since I left. I am not +sorry to get back to Dare."</p> + +<p>"And I don't think we are sorry to see you back, Keith," 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 "Heights of Alma" 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>"Halloo, Christina," said Macleod, "won't you let me into the house?"</p> + +<p>"This is for you, Sir Keith," 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>"And it is a good omen," 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. "If you love me, +I love you," says the Gaelic proverb; "<i>otherwise do not come near me</i>." +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 "dour" 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>"The fishermen hef been asking me again, sir," observed Hamish, with his +cap in his hand. "What will I say to them?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, about the wages?" Macleod said, turning round.</p> + +<p>"Ay, sir."</p> + +<p>"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—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?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir Keith, I think I do."</p> + +<p>"Do you think you could put it into good Gaelic for them?"</p> + +<p>"Oh ay."</p> + +<p>"Then tell them to choose for themselves. But make it clear."</p> + +<p>"Ay, Sir Keith," said Hamish. "And if it was not for that —— 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—"</p> + +<p>"This morning!" Macleod said, jumping to his feet. There was an angry +flash in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Ay, sir, this very morning I saw two of them myself—and John Fraser he +was one of them—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.'"</p> + +<p>"Are they down at the quay now?" Macleod said.</p> + +<p>"Ay, they will be in the house now."</p> + +<p>"Come along with me, Hamish. I think we will put this right."</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>"Now look here, boys," said he, "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—and there will be no more words about it—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."</p> + +<p>With that he was turning away, when he heard one of the men mutter, "<i>I +would like to see you do it!</i>" He wheeled round instantly—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>"<a name="Page_105" id="Page_105" />Who said that?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>There was no answer.</p> + +<p>"Come out here, you four men!" he said. "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!"</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—as he might have +shaken a reed.</p> + +<p>"You scoundrel!" he said. "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—well, we've had enough of you!"</p> + +<p>He flung him back.</p> + +<p>"Hamish," said he, "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," he added, turning to Fraser, +"it will be a bad day for you the day that I see your face again +anywhere about Castle Dare."</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>"I beg your pardon, sir," said he, "but the men are outside."</p> + +<p>"I cannot see them."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"They have brought him up?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, sir," said Hamish, with a grave smile. "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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"It will not be easy to get another man, Sir Keith," old Hamish ventured +to say.</p> + +<p>"Get Sandy over from the <i>Umpire</i>."</p> + +<p>"But surely you will want the yacht, sir, when Mr. Ogilvie comes to +Dare?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"I am in no hurry," he said, almost petulantly. "Shall I not have to be +here the whole winter for the shooting?"—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—dyed black, of course—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>"Will I tek the bandage off Nell's foot now, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, if you like. You know as much as I do about it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am quite sure," said Hamish, brightly, "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."</p> + +<p>Macleod took up his book again.</p> + +<p>"Very well, Hamish. But you have plenty to do about the house. Duncan +and Sandy can go with us to-morrow."</p> + +<p>The old man started, and looked at his master for a second. Then he +said, "Ferry well, sir," 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>"And perhaps it is so," said Hamish, with his head hanging down, "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—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense, Hamish!" Janet Macleod said, with her kindly eyes bent on +him. "You may be sure Sir Keith did not mean anything like that—"</p> + +<p>"Ay, mem," said the old man, proudly, "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—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."</p> + +<p>"Hamish, you are speaking like a foolish man," said Janet Macleod to +him. "You will wait here now till I go to Sir Keith."</p> + +<p>She went to him.</p> + +<p>"Keith," said she, "do you know that you have nearly broken old Hamish's +heart?"</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" said he, looking up in wonder.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense!" Macleod said. "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."</p> + +<p>"You know quite well, Keith," said his cousin, "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—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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"That is not fair of you, Keith. Old Hamish would give his right hand to +save you the scratch of a thorn."</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>"And if it is my death-wound I have got," he was thinking to himself, as +he set out for the boat that was waiting for him at the shore, "I will +not cry out too soon."</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>"And why have you not come in your hunting tartan?" said he, observing +the very precise and correct shooting costume of the young man.</p> + +<p>"Not likely," said Mr. Ogilvie, laughing. "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."</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow," Macleod said, seriously, "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?"</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, I will see Hamish myself; I dare say he remembers me."</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>"And he will say to me, only yesterday," observed Hamish, +confidentially—"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'—this is what he will say to me—'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—fine woollen clothes you have, and what harm will a shower do?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mind the rain, so long as I can keep moving—that's the +fact, Hamish," replied Mr. Ogilvie; "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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh ay, sir," said Hamish, with a demure twinkle in his eye. "I mind +fine the time you will fall into the water off the rock in Loch na +Keal."</p> + +<p>"There, now," exclaimed Mr. Ogilvie. "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."</p> + +<p>"But the sea-water," said Hamish, gravely; "there will no harm come to +you of the sea-water."</p> + +<p>"I want to have as little as possible of either sea-water or +rain-water," said Mr. Ogilvie, with decision, "I believe Macleod is half +an otter himself."</p> + +<p>Hamish did not like this, but he only said, respectfully.</p> + +<p>"I do not think Sir Keith is afraid of a shower of rain whatever."</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—dressed in his homespun tartan of yellow and +black—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>"Come along, Ogilvie." Macleod cried, as he gave his friend's gun to +Sandy, but shouldered his own. "Sorry we haven't a dog-cart to drive you +to the moor, but it is not far off."</p> + +<p>"I think a cigar in the library would be the best thing for a morning +like this," 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>"Nonsense, man! the first bird you kill will cheer you up."</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>"Well done, sir!" cried old Hamish.</p> + +<p>"Bravo!" called out Macleod.</p> + +<p>"It was a grand long shot!" 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>"He's down, sir!" cried Hamish, in great excitement.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," Ogilvie answered, with a doubtful air on his face, +but with a bright gladness in his eyes all the same.</p> + +<p>"He's down, sir," Hamish reasserted. "Come away Sandy, with the dog!" 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>"Take time, sir," said he. "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."</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—a +fine young cock grouse, plump and in splendid plumage.</p> + +<p>"And what do you think of the morning now, Ogilvie?" Macleod asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dare say it will clear," said he, shyly; and he endeavored to +make light of Hamish's assertions that they were "ferry pretty +shots—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."</p> + +<p>"But look here, Macleod," Mr. Ogilvie said; "why did <a name="Page_113" id="Page_113" />not you fire +yourself?"—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>"Oh," said Macleod simply, "I wanted you to have a shot."</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—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—what was a more unlikely thing—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>"We are in for a soaker this time!" 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—the only sound audible in these high +solitudes away from the sea—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>"<a name="Page_114" id="Page_114" />Look here, Macleod," said he, with the rain running down his face, "I +can't tell the difference between one bird and another. If I shoot a +partridge it isn't my fault."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Macleod. "If a partridge is fool enough to be up here, +it deserves it."</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—a winged object, +apparently without a tail, a whirring bunch of loose gray feathers, a +creature resembling no known fowl—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>"What in all the world is that?" he cried, jumping round to have a look +at it.</p> + +<p>"Why," said Macleod, who was roaring with laughter, "it is a baby +blackcock, just out of the shell, I should think."</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>"That is the old hen," said he; "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."</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>"It really is awfully kind of you, Ogilvie," Macleod said, as he threw +half a sandwich to the old black retriever, "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!"</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow," said Mr. Ogilvie, who did not refuse to have his +tumbler replenished by the attentive Hamish, "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."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115" />Macleod was carelessly filling his pipe, and obviously thinking of +something very different.</p> + +<p>"Man, Ogilvie," he said, in a burst of confidence, "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."</p> + +<p>He glanced round—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>"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."</p> + +<p>"My dear boy," observed Mr. Ogilvie, confidently, "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—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>"</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>"Of course," said this wise young man, "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—or——"</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>"Well," said he, "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?"</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>"Lady Beauregard, for example?" said Macleod.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am not talking about women," observed the sagacious boy; "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."</p> + +<p>"Ogilvie," Macleod said, with a sudden earnestness, "I am fretting my +heart out here—that is the fact. If it were not for the poor old +mother—and Janet—but I will tell you another time."</p> + +<p>He got up on his feet, and took his gun from Sandy. His +companion—wondering not a little, but saying nothing—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—an eager sportsman and an +<ins class="correction" style="text-decoration: none" +title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'acurate'">accurate</ins> + shot—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>"You haven't warmed to it yet," Macleod said, charitably. "The first +half hour after luncheon a man always shoots badly."</p> + +<p>"Especially when his clothes are glued to his skin from head to foot," +said Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>"You will soon walk some heat into yourself."</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,—</p> + +<p>"Well done, sir! It is a glass of whiskey you will deserve for that +shot."</p> + +<p>Whereupon Mr. Ogilvie stopped and modestly hinted that he would accept +of at least a moiety of the proffered reward.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Hamish," said he, "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."</p> + +<p>"And a whole glass will do you no harm, sir," shrewdly observed Hamish.</p> + +<p>"Not in the clouds."</p> + +<p>"The what, sir?"</p> + +<p>"The clouds. Don't you consider we are going shooting through clouds?"</p> + +<p>"There will be a snipe or two down here, sir," 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>"It is different with Keith," said she, "for he is used to be out in all +weathers. He has been brought up to live out of doors."</p> + +<p>"But you know, auntie," said Janet Macleod, "a soldier is much of the +same thing. Did you ever hear of a soldier with an umbrella?"</p> + +<p>"All I know is," remarked Mr. Ogilvie—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—"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."</p> + +<p>"And indeed you were not making many misses," Macleod said. "But we will +try your nerve, Ogilvie, with a stag or two, I hope."</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"You are a lucky fellow, Macleod," said he, "and you don't know it. You +have everything about you here to make life enjoyable."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_119" id="Page_119" />And I feel like a slave tied to a galley oar," said he, quickly. "I +try to hide it from the mother—for it would break her heart—and from +Janet too; but every morning I rise, the dismalness of being alone +here—of being caged up alone—eats more and more into my heart. When I +look at you, Ogilvie—to-morrow morning you could go spinning off to any +quarter you liked, to see any one you wanted to see—"</p> + +<p>"Macleod," said his companion, looking up, and yet speaking rather +slowly and timidly, "if I were to say what would naturally occur to any +one—you won't be offended? What you have been telling me is absurd, +unnatural, impossible, unless there is a woman in the case."</p> + +<p>"And what then?" Macleod said, quickly, as he regarded his friend with a +watchful eye, "You have guessed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the other: "Gertrude White."</p> + +<p>Macleod was silent for a second or two. Then he sat down.</p> + +<p>"I scarcely care who knows it now," said he, absently "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?"</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>"But I will tell you now, Ogilvie—now that I am speaking to any one +about it," said he—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—"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—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—a bit of her +trade, an exposure of her own feelings to make people clap their +hands—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."</p> + +<p>"You have cut your hand, Macleod."</p> + +<p>He shook a drop or two of blood off.</p> + +<p>"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—you will understand—that it +is not any actress I have fallen in love with—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—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—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—a fire, burning and +burning, of impatience, and misery, and a craving just to see her face +and hear her speak."</p> + +<p>Ogilvie did not know what to say. There was something in this passionate +confession—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—that altogether drove +ordinary words of counsel or consolation out of the young man's mind.</p> + +<p>"You have been hard hit, Macleod," he said, with some earnestness.</p> + +<p>"That is just it," Macleod said, almost bitterly. "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?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Ogilvie, rather inclined to beat about the bush, "I thought +you were paying her a good deal of attention. But then—she is very +popular, you know, and receives a good deal of attention; and—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."</p> + +<p>"Ay," Macleod said, "if I myself had only known! If it was a plunge—as +people talk about falling in love with a woman—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—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—it is your very self; and sometimes, Ogilvie, I +wonder whether it is all true, or whether it is mad I am altogether. +Newcastle—do you know Newcastle?"</p> + +<p>"I have passed through it, of course," his companion said, more and more +amazed at the vehemence of his speech.</p> + +<p>"It is there she is now—I have seen it in the papers; and it is +Newcastle—Newcastle—Newcastle—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."</p> + +<p>"But, look here, Macleod," said Ogilvie, pulling himself together; for +it was hard to resist the influence of this vehement and uncontrollable +passion—"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?"</p> + +<p>"Don't give me your advice, Ogilvie," said he, untwining and throwing +away the bit of casting-line that had cut his finger. "It is far beyond +that. Let me talk to you—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?"</p> + +<p>"But look here, Macleod—I want to ask you a question: would you marry +her?"</p> + +<p>The common-sense of the younger man was re-asserting itself. This was +what any one—looking at the whole situation from the Aldershot point of +view—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>"Marry her!" he exclaimed. "Yes, you are right to look at it in that +way—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—that +she cared for no one else, that she were to care for me, that the +influence of her father was gone—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—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."</p> + +<p>"You take too gloomy a view of it, Macleod," said Ogilvie. "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—well, I may be wrong, but I should say that +would count for something. I haven't known many actresses myself—"</p> + +<p>"That is idle talk," Macleod said; and then he added, proudly, "You do +not know this woman as I know her."</p> + +<p>He put aside his pipe; but in truth he had never lit it.</p> + +<p>"Come," said he, with a tired look, "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—it was about +'Death's black wine'—and do you think you could sing us that song +to-night?"</p> + +<p>Ogilvie looked at him.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean by the way you are talking, Macleod," said +he.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said he, with a laugh that did not sound quite natural, "have you +forgotten it? Well, then, Janet will sing us another song—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—it is a song +you do not easily forget—that about 'Death's black wine.'"</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—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—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—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—the calm and gracious woman who received as a +matter of right the multitude of attentions that all men—and women +too—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—a wet and dismal night—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 +"Well, Gerty?"</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>"Well, Gerty," he repeats, "aren't you going to have some supper?"</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_126" id="Page_126" />No, thank you," she says.</p> + +<p>"Come, come," he remonstrates, "that won't do. You must have some +supper. Shall Jane get you a cup of tea?"</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose there is any one up below; besides, I don't want it," +says Miss White, rather wearily.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she answers; and then she looks at the mantelpiece. "No +letter from Carry?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope you won't make her an actress, papa," 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>"I will beg you to remember, Gerty," he remarked, with some dignity, +"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—"</p> + +<p>"Public favor!" she said, with a bitter laugh. "Who is the favorite of +the public in this very town? Why, the girl who plays in that farce—who +smokes a cigarette, and walks round the stage like a man, and dances a +breakdown. Why wasn't I taught to dance breakdowns?"</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>"I should think you were jealous of that girl," said he, petulantly, "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."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_127" id="Page_127" />Ah, well," said Miss White, as she put aside her bonnet, "I hope you +won't bring up Carry to this sort of life."</p> + +<p>"To what sort of life?" her father exclaimed, angrily. "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."</p> + +<p>"It isn't the life of a human being at all," she said, boldly—but +perhaps it was only her headache, or her weariness, or her ill-humor, +that drove her to this rebellion; "it is the cutting one's self off from +everything that makes life worth having. It is a continual +degradation—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—I have to be so many different people—that I don't quite +know what my own character is, or if I have any at all—"</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>"<a name="Page_128" id="Page_128" />Oh, I see now," he said, with angry scorn. "You have learned your +lesson well. A 'Ten-minutes' Emotionalist:' I remember. I was wondering +who had put such stuff into your head."</p> + +<p>She colored deeply, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>"And so you are taking your notion, as to what sort of life you would +lead, from a Highland savage—a boor whose only occupations are eating +and drinking and killing wild animals. A fine guide, truly! He has had +so much experience in æsthetic 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—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?"</p> + +<p>"You may talk about it," she said, rather humbly—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—"but you are +not a woman, and you don't know what a woman feels about such things."</p> + +<p>"And since when have you made the discovery? What has happened to +convince you so suddenly that your professional life is a degradation?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said, carelessly, "I was scarcely thinking of myself. Of +course I know what lies before me. It was about Carry I spoke to you."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Now, papa, that isn't fair," the eldest sister said, in a gentler +voice. "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."</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>"I will go now," she said, rather wearily, as she rose. "Good-night, +papa—What is that?"</p> + +<p>She was looking at a parcel that lay on a chair.</p> + +<p>"It came for you, to-night. There was seven and six<a name="Page_129" id="Page_129" />pence to pay for +extra carriage—it seems to have been forwarded from place to place."</p> + +<p>"As if I had not enough luggage to carry about with me!" 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>"Just look at these, papa—did you ever in all your life see anything so +beautiful?"</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>"Papa," she exclaimed, "it is a present fit for a prince to make!"</p> + +<p>"I dare say you will find them useful."</p> + +<p>"And whatever is made of them," said she, with decision, "that I shall +keep for myself—it won't be one of my stage properties."</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,—</p> + +<p>"Now, Pappy dear, I am going to tell you a great secret. I am going to +change the song in the second act."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said he; but he was rather glad to see her come back to the +interest of her work.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_130" id="Page_130" />I am," she said, seriously. "Would you like to hear it?"</p> + +<p>"You will wake the house up."</p> + +<p>"And if the public expect an actress to please them," she said, saucily, +"they must take the consequences of her practising."</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:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">"'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.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>—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—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'<i>Glenogie, dear mither, Glenogie for me</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Of course," 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, "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."</p> + +<p>She turned to the piano again.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">"'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>"How do you like the air, papa?"</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>"The air," said he, coldly, "is well enough. But I hope you don't expect +an English audience to understand that doggerel Scotch."</p> + +<p>"Glenogie understand it, any way," said she, blithely, "and naturally he +rode off at once to see his dying sweetheart.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">"'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>.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131" />She shut the piano.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it charmingly simple and tender, papa?" she said, with the same +mischief in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I think it is foolish of you to think of exchanging that piece of +doggerel—"</p> + +<p>"For what?" said she, standing in the middle of the room. "For this?"</p> + +<p>And therewith she sang these lines—giving an admirable burlesque +imitation of herself, and her own gestures, and her own singing in the +part she was then performing:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">"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—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To the joyous day—<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!'"<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—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>"'Oh, here is, Glenogie, a letter for thee,'"<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>"FHIR A BHATA!"</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—to hear her speak—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—he had spoken to her—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—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>"I have him," he said. "That is the snake of the sea—I hate him as I +hate a serpent."</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>"Here, Ogilvie," said he, "take the boat-hook. There are plenty about +here. Make yourself St. Patrick exterminating snakes."</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—the keel of the boat hissing through it and +occasionally grating on the sand—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>"It is my usual luck," said he, in despair. "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."</p> + +<p>"You would have missed him," said Macleod, coolly.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_134" id="Page_134" />At a dozen yards?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. When you come on one so near as that, you are too startled to take +aim. You would have blazed away and missed."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," said Ogilvie, with some modest persistence. "When I +shot that stag, I was steady enough, though I felt my heart thumping +away like fun."</p> + +<p>"There you had plenty of time to take your aim—and a rock to rest your +rifle on." And then he added: "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."</p> + +<p>"Well," Mr. Ogilvie admitted, "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."</p> + +<p>"Why, man," Macleod said, "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."</p> + +<p>"That is why I feel so particularly jolly at the notion of having to go +back," said Mr. Ogilvie, with very much the air of a schoolboy at the +end of his holiday. "The day after to-morrow, too!"</p> + +<p>"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."</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—with brow, bay, and tray, and +crockets complete—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>"It is little we have been able to do to entertain you," said the old +silver-haired lady, "but I am glad you have got a stag or two."</p> + +<p>"I knew what Highland hospitality was before I came to Castle Dare," +said the boy, modestly. "But you have been kinder to me even than +anything I knew before."</p> + +<p>"And you will leave the heads with Hamish," said she, "and we will send +them to Glasgow to be mounted for you, and then we will send them South +to you."</p> + +<p>"Indeed no," said he (though he was thinking to himself that it was no +wonder the Macleods of Dare were poor); "I will not put you to any such +trouble. I will make my own arrangements with Hamish."</p> + +<p>"Then you will tell him not to forget Aldershot."</p> + +<p>"I think, Lady Macleod," said the young lieutenant, "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."</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—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—though of course there were +one or two heartrending mishaps. As they walked home in the evening—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—Ogilvie said:—</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"That would be no use," said he, rather gloomily. "She is not in London. +She is at Liverpool or Manchester by this time. I have already sent her +a present."</p> + +<p>Ogilvie did not think fit to ask what; though he had guessed.</p> + +<p>"It was a parcel of otter-skins," Macleod said. "You see, you might +present that to any lady—it is merely a curiosity of the district—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."</p> + +<p>"It is a present any lady would be glad to have," observed Mr. Ogilvie, +with a smile. "Has she got them yet?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know," Macleod answered. "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."</p> + +<p>"Forgotten who you are!" Ogilvie exclaimed; and then he looked round to +see that Hamish and Sandy the red-haired were at a convenient distance. +"Do you know this, Macleod? A man never yet was in love with a woman +without the woman being instantly aware of it."</p> + +<p>Macleod glanced at him quickly; then turned away his head again, +apparently watching the gulls wheeling high over the sea—black spots +against the glow of the sunset.</p> + +<p>"That is foolishness," said he. "I had a great care to be quite a +stranger to her all the time I was in London. I myself scarcely +knew—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."</p> + +<p>Then he remembered one fact, and his downright honesty made him speak +again.</p> + +<p>"One night, it is true," said he—"it was the last night of my being in +London—I asked a flower from her. She gave it to me. She was laughing +at the time. That was all."</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">"<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>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>that is to say,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i75">"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!"<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>"Good-bye, Macleod!"</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Ogilvie! Come up at Christmas."</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. "Fhir a bhata!" +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>"Give the lad a half-crown," 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>"<i>Oh, here is, Glenogie, a letter for thee!</i>"<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—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—the very tone—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—who could have no thought of him or of the too +brief time in which he had been near to her—had she indeed been +treasuring up some recollection that she now seemed disposed to value?</p> + +<p>"You will guess that I am woman enough," she wrote, "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—outside the sphere of their own profession—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?"</p> + +<p>Miss Gertrude White could, when she chose, write a clever and +interesting letter—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>"One meets with the harsher realities of an actress's life," she said, +"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!—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."</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—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>"You may think it strange that I should write thus to you," she said; +"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—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?"</p> + +<p>It almost seemed to him—so intense and eager was his involuntary +sympathy—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—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>"And yet I would not complain of mere discomfort," she continued, "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—and I am almost ashamed +to confess—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—with their pretentious airs of +criticism, and their gross ignorance cropping up at <a name="Page_142" id="Page_142" />every point—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.'"</p> + +<p>Macleod brought his fist down on the table with a bang.</p> + +<p>"If I had that fellow," said he, aloud—"if I had that fellow, I should +like to spin for a shark off Dubh Artach lighthouse." And here a most +unholy vision rose before him of a new sort of sport—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>"Is it not too ridiculous that such things should vex me—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—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?—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—<a name="Page_143" id="Page_143" />he had beautiful long +fair hair and a Byronic collar, and was a little nervous—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."</p> + +<p>"And so, my dear friend, I have had my grumble out—and made my +confession too, for I should not like to let every one know how foolish +I am about those petty vexations—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—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;">"<span class='smcap'>Gertrude White</span>."</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—that she was not, after all, banished forever into that cold +region of art in which her father would fain keep her—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—</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—and when her large and lambent +eyes met his—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—</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>"Where have you been, Keith?" she says, in her quiet, kindly way. +"Auntie would like to say good-night to you now."</p> + +<p>"I will come directly," said he.</p> + +<p>"And now that Norman Ogilvie is away, Keith," said she, "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."</p> + +<p>He glanced at her rather uneasily; but he said, in a light and careless +way,—</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"It is too proud of your hardihood you are, Keith," said his cousin, +with a smile. "But there never was a man of your family who would take +any advice."</p> + +<p>"I would take any advice from you, Janet," 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—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—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>—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—all his +vague fancies and imaginings—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—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>"I think you are finding the place lonely, Keith, now that Norman +Ogilvie is gone," said she.</p> + +<p>"Ah, mother," he said, with a laugh, "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."</p> + +<p>He spoke jestingly, and yet he was regarding his mother.</p> + +<p>"I know it is not pleasant for a young man to be kept fretting at home," +said she. "But it is not long now I will ask you to do that, Keith."</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—a pretty thing to +dream about during a summer's morning—but, on the contrary, a burning +fever of unrest, that left him peace nor day nor night. "Sudden love is +followed by sudden hate," 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 "dree his weird." And when he read in books about +the joy and delight that accompany the awakening of love—how the world +suddenly becomes fair, and the very skies are bluer than their wont—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—as he saw her return with a handful of bell-heather—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—what flowers she would gather—whether she would listen to +Hamish's stories of the fairies—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—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—by the opening of a cloud—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 "Wae's me for +Prince Charlie?"</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—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? "Oh, +children!" it seemed to say, "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—time +passes—time passes—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."</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>"Did you know," said he, "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—the <i>Bratach sith</i> it is known as—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—with all their musical +instruments, lime-light, and painted scenes—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—which everybody knows to be true—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."</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—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>"Oh, Keith!" said she, "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!"</p> + +<p>"I know it," he said. "I let them out myself."</p> + +<p>"You!" 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>"Yes; I let them out last night. It was a pity to have them caged up."</p> + +<p>"So long as it was yourself, it is all right," she said; and then she +was going away. But she paused and turned, and said to him, with a +smile, "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?"</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>"Well, I would like to go, Janet," he said, but with no gladness in his +voice; "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—"</p> + +<p>"There is no concern about the money, Keith," said she, simply, "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."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_152" id="Page_152" />But how can I explain to her? It is unreasonable to be going away."</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—whether or not she had guessed the +cause of his desire to get away.</p> + +<p>"If you were a schoolboy, Keith, you would be cleverer at making an +excuse for playing truant," she said, laughing. "And I could make one +for you now."</p> + +<p>"You?"</p> + +<p>"I will not call it an excuse, Keith," she said, "because I think you +would be doing a good work; and I will bear the expense of it, if you +please."</p> + +<p>He looked more puzzled than ever.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking of it myself," he said, absently, "but our farm is +too small to make it pay—"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"They will not thank you, Janet, for letting them have this help for +nothing."</p> + +<p>"They shall not have it for nothing," said she—for she had plenty of +experience in dealing with the poorer folk around—"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?"</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—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—on paper at least—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>"By George! my boy," said he, with a ferocious grin on his face, "I +think we will have a little frolic—a little frolic!—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!"</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>"<span class='smcap'>Ah</span>, pappy," said Miss Gertrude White to her father and she pretended to +sigh as she spoke—"this is a change indeed!"</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>"In another week," she continued, "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."</p> + +<p>The flavor of sarcasm running through this affected sadness vexed Mr. +White, and he answered, sharply,</p> + +<p>"I think you have little reason to grumble over a tour which has so +distinctly added to your reputation."</p> + +<p>"I was not aware," said she, with a certain careless sauciness of +manner, "that an actress was allowed to have a reputation; at least, +there are always plenty of people anxious enough to take it away."</p> + +<p>"Gertrude," said he, sternly, "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?"</p> + +<p>"To cease to be an actress?" 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. "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."</p> + +<p>Miss White was not grumbling at all—but, on the contrary, was quite +pleasant and cheerful—when she entered the small house and found +herself once more at home.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Carry," she said, when her sister followed her into her room; "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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed!" said Miss Carry, with such marked coldness that her sister +turned to her.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with <i>you?</i>" the younger sister retorted, with +sudden fire. "Do you know that your letters to me have been quite +disgraceful?"</p> + +<p>"You are crazed, child—you wrote something about it the other day—I +could not make out what you meant," 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>"It is you are crazed, Gertrude White," 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. "I am really ashamed of you—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—"</p> + +<p>Miss White turned and stared—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>"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."</p> + +<p>She was turning away again, with a quiet smile on her face, when her +younger sister arrested her.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" said she, so sharply, and extending her forefinger so +suddenly, that Gertrude almost shrank back.</p> + +<p>"What's what?" she said, in dismay—fearing, perhaps, to hear of an +adder being on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You know perfectly well," said Miss Carry, vehemently, "it is the +Macleod tartan!"</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>"The Macleod tartan?" said the eldest sister, demurely. "And what if it +were the Macleod tartan?"</p> + +<p>"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—you say, 'Oh, here I am; and I am quite ready to be your wife +when you ask me, Sir Keith Macleod!'"</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>"Dear me, Carry!" said she, with great innocence, "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—"</p> + +<p>"A Highland gentleman!" exclaimed Carry. "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—who is sought after by everybody, and the +popularest favorite ever seen—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."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, put it out of your mind; and never let me hear another +word about it," said the popularest favorite, as she undid the bit of +tartan ribbon; "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."</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>"Where are the skins, Gerty?"</p> + +<p>"Near Castle Dare," answered Miss White, turning to get something else +for her neck; "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."</p> + +<p>"Who told you that story?" she asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"Sir Keith Macleod," the elder sister said, without thinking.</p> + +<p>"Then he has been writing to you?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</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>"Threescore o' nobles rode up the king's ha',"<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">"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!"<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>"Gerty," her father said, impatiently, to her a day or two before they +left London for the provinces, "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?"</p> + +<p>"And, indeed, I am glad to have something to convince me that I am a +human being and a woman," she had said, instantly, "something to be +myself in. I believe Providence intended me to be the manager of a Swiss +hotel."</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>"I have got the skins," she said, gloomily. "Jane took them out."</p> + +<p>"Will you look at them?" the sister said, kindly. "They are very pretty. +If they were not a present, I would give them to you, to make a jacket +of them."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> wear them?" said she. "Not likely!"</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>"I don't think much of them," she said.</p> + +<p>The other bore this taunt patiently.</p> + +<p>"They are only big moles, aren't they? And I thought moleskin was only +worn by working-people."</p> + +<p>"I am a working-person too," Miss Gertrude White said: "but, in any +case, I think a jacket of these skins will look lovely."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you think so? Well, you can't say much for the smell of them."</p> + +<p>"It is no more disagreeable than the smell of a sealskin jacket."</p> + +<p>She laid down the last of the skins with some air of disdain.</p> + +<p>"It will be a nice series of trophies, anyway—showing you know some one +who goes about spending his life in killing inoffensive animals."</p> + +<p>"Poor Sir Keith Macleod! What has he done to offend you, Carry?"</p> + +<p>Miss Carry turned her head away for a minute; but presently she boldly +faced her sister.</p> + +<p>"Gerty, you don't mean to marry a beauty man!"</p> + +<p>Gerty looked considerably puzzled; but her companion continued, +vehemently,—</p> + +<p>"How often have I heard you say you would never marry a beauty man—a +man who has been brought up in front of the looking-glass—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."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then!"</p> + +<p>"And what is Sir Keith Macleod but a beauty man?"</p> + +<p>"He is not!" and for once the elder sister betrayed some feeling in the +proud tone of her voice. "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!—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—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!"</p> + +<p>Carry began to cry.</p> + +<p>"You silly thing, what is the matter with you?" Gertrude White +exclaimed; but of course her arm was round her sister's neck.</p> + +<p>"It is true, then."</p> + +<p>"What is true?"</p> + +<p>"What people say."</p> + +<p>"What do people say?"</p> + +<p>"That you will marry Sir Keith Macleod."</p> + +<p>"Carry!" she said, angrily, "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!"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say he has never asked you?" Carry said, disengaging +herself, and fixing her eyes on her sister's face.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" was the decided answer; but all the same, Miss Gertrude +White's forehead and cheeks flushed slightly.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"If I gave you a box on the ears," she said, laughing, "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—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."</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>"Well, Gerty," he said that evening after dinner, "what do you think +about Mr. ——'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."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I shall have nothing whatever to do with it," said she, +promptly. "The furniture at home is enough for me. I don't wish to +become the upholsterer of a theatre."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And perhaps it is, pappy," said she, "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—"</p> + +<p>"Gerty!" her sister said.</p> + +<p>"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—and that I +need not sing to the front—that is all nonsense. I know what it is +meant for—to catch the gallery. Now I refuse to sing for the gallery."</p> + +<p>This was decided enough.</p> + +<p>"What was the song you put into your last part, Gerty?" her sister +asked. "I saw something in the papers about it."</p> + +<p>"It was a Scotch one, Carry; I don't think you know it."</p> + +<p>"I wonder it was not a Highland one," her sister said, rather +spitefully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have a whole collection of Highland ones now, would you like to +hear one? Would you, pappy?"</p> + +<p>She went and fetched the book, and opened the piano.</p> + +<p>"It is an old air that belonged to Scarba," 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 "sea-worn Mull," 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>"How do you like it, pappy?" she said, when she had finished. "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."</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>"Where did you get that book, Gerty?" she said, in a firm voice.</p> + +<p>"Where?" said the other, innocently. "In Manchester, I think it was, I +bought it."</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>"Did you think it had come with the otter-skins, Carry?" 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—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—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—when +Oscar was the only creature in London he had to concern himself +with—when each new day was only a brighter holiday than its +predecessor—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—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—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—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—to hear her speak—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—that at a certain time and place he would certainly see her and +listen to her—without going. He bethought him, moreover, of what he had +once heard her say—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—she came in unexpectedly—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—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—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—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—he wished he could take her hand and lead her away. What +concern had these people around with her? This was Gertrude White—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—amidst all this glaring sham—before all these people? +"<i>Come away quickly!</i>" his heart cried to her. "<i>Quick—quick—let us +get away together: there is some mistake—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—your real warm hand—and perhaps hold it tight, and not give it up +to any one whatsoever!</i>" 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—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—no dream or +vision—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—a red rose, full blown and full scented. He +forgave the theatre—or rather he forgot it—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—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—mere peccadillo, let us say—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—his shame, even—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—the true-hearted +Englishman—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—when +actual people were before him—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—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—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—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—though she was distant, somehow—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>"To-night, man—to-night—we will arrange it all to-night," he would +say, and there was a nervous excitement about his manner for which the +major could not at all account.</p> + +<p>"Sha'n't I see you till the evening, then?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No," 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. "I don't know—perhaps I may be back before—but at +any rate we meet at seven. You will remember—seven?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I am not likely to forget it," 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—with an anxious and absorbed look on his +face—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—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—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—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—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>"The glory of life, the beauty of the world,"<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 "taken the world for his pillow," 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>"But I am so glad to see you!" she said, with a perfect sweetness, and +her eyes said more than her words. "I should have been really vexed if I +had heard you had passed through London without calling on us. Won't you +sit down?"</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>"It is very beautiful weather," she remarked—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, "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—trying to make you believe that there was still +some life left in the dead garden."</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>"I—I saw you at the theatre last night," 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,—</p> + +<p>"Did you like the piece?"</p> + +<p>And he, too: was he not determined to play the part of an ordinary +visitor?</p> + +<p>"I am not much of a judge," said he, lightly. "The drawing-room scene is +very pretty. It is very like a drawing-room. I suppose those are real +curtains, and real pictures?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, it is all real furniture," 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—his +speech—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>"Papa, at least, is proud of our chrysanthemums," said Miss White, +quickly getting away from the stage question. "He is in the garden now. +Will you go out and see him? I am sorry Carry has gone to school."</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>"A drowning man will cry out; how can you prevent his crying out?"</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>"You will listen. It is no harm to you. I must speak now, or I will +die," said he, quite wildly; "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—the fire that was +burning and killing me. Oh, it is no use my saying that it is love for +you—I do not know what it is—but only that I must tell you, and you +cannot be angry with me—you can only pity me and go away. That is +it—it is nothing to you—you can go away."</p> + +<p>She burst into tears, and snatched her hand from him, and with both +hands covered her face.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said he, "is it pain to you that I should tell you of this +madness? But you will forgive me—and you will forget it—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—for a moment or two—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."</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>"And if the drowning man cries?" said he. "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—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—sick—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—it was you—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—why—' But +then you came into the room—it is only a little while ago—but it seems +for ever and ever away now—and I have only pained you—"</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—almost +shuddering—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>"Gertrude," he said, "what is it? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>The broken voice answered, though her face was turned aside,—</p> + +<p>"It is I who am miserable."</p> + +<p>"You who are miserable?"</p> + +<p>She turned and looked fair into his face, with her eyes all wet, and +beautiful, and piteous.</p> + +<p>"Can't you see? Don't you understand?" she said "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—"</p> + +<p>"It might be otherwise!" he exclaimed, with a sudden wonder. "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—if we were both free from all +situation—if there were no difficulties—nothing to be thought +of—could you give yourself to me? Would you really become my wife—you +who have all the world flattering you?"</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,—</p> + +<p>"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—a fancy. It is impossible. It would only bring misery to +you and to me—"</p> + +<p>"But why—but why?" he eagerly exclaimed; and there was a new light in +his face. "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!" And he laughed with a strange +laugh.</p> + +<p>She looked up in his face.</p> + +<p>"And would it be so great a happiness for you? That would make up for +all the trouble I have brought you?" 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>"It is wrong of me even to think of it," she said. "Today I might say +'yes,' and to-morrow? You might inspire me with courage now; and +afterward—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," she added, and once more +she rather timidly looked up into his face. "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—better for +both of us. You must believe me."</p> + +<p>"I do not believe you, and I will not believe you," said he, with a +proud light in his eyes; "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!"</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>"I am sure you love me," she said, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"You will see," he rejoined, with a firm confidence.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And you do not quite refuse?" said he.</p> + +<p>She hesitated for a moment or two.</p> + +<p>"I must think for you as well as for myself," she said, in a scarcely +audible voice. "Give me time. Give me till the end of the week."</p> + +<p>"At this hour I will come."</p> + +<p>"And you will believe I have decided for the best—that I have tried +hard to be fair to you as well as myself?"</p> + +<p>"I know you are too true a woman for anything else," he said; and then +he added, "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—why? Because I hope +there will be many a year to do that in, my angel of goodness!"</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>"Will you follow me?"</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>"It is indeed a beautiful garden," Macleod said, looking round on the +withered leaves and damp soil; "no wonder you look after it yourself."</p> + +<p>"I am not gardening," the old man said, peevishly. "I have been putting +a knife in the ground—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—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!"</p> + +<p>"You ought to be very pleased, pappy, you got it at all," said Gertrude +White; but she was looking elsewhere, and rather absently too.</p> + +<p>"And so you have buried it to restore the tone?"</p> + +<p>"I have," said the old gentleman, marching off with the shovel to a sort +of out house.</p> + +<p>Macleod speedily took his leave.</p> + +<p>"Saturday next at noon," said he to her, with no timidity in his voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said she, more gently, and with downcast eyes.</p> + +<p>He walked away from the house—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>"Come, now, Macleod, tell me where you have been all day," said the +rosy-faced soldier, carefully tucking his napkin under his chin.</p> + +<p>Macleod burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"Another day—another day, Stuart, I will tell you all about it. It is +the most ridiculous story you ever heard in your life!"</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 "<i>yes</i>"—musical as the +sound of summer seas—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—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—surrounded by +people who petted and flattered her—should not already have her heart +engaged? Even if she were free, how could she have bestowed a thought on +him—a passing stranger—a summer visitor—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—and through much of +the night too—was directed on her answer—the one small word filled +with a whole worldful of light and joy.</p> + +<p>"If you will only say that one little word," he wrote to her, "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—whatever you may think now—and whatever natural +regret you may feel—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—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—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."</p> + +<p>"Macleod," said Major Stuart to him, "did you come to London to write +love-letters?"</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_181" id="Page_181" />Love-letters!" he said, angrily; but then he laughed. "And what did +you come to London for?"</p> + +<p>"On a highly philanthropic errand," said the other, gravely, "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."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Macleod, though there was some telltale color in his +face. "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?"</p> + +<p>While they were speaking, a servant brought in a card.</p> + +<p>"Ask the gentleman to come up," Macleod said, and then he turned to his +companion. "What an odd thing! I was speaking to you a minute ago about +that drag accident. And here is Beauregard himself."</p> + +<p>The tall, rough-visaged man—stooping slightly as though he thought the +doorway was a trifle low—came forward and shook hands with Macleod, and +was understood to inquire about his health, though what he literally +said was, "Hawya, Macleod, hawya?"</p> + +<p>"I heard you were in town from Paulton—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?"</p> + +<p>Macleod briefly explained.</p> + +<p>"And you?" he asked, "what has brought you to London? I thought you and +Lady Beauregard were in Ireland."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Well, the fact is," Macleod said, hesitatingly, "my friend and I—by +the way, let me introduce you—Lord Beauregard, Major Stuart—the fact +is, we ought to go back directly after we have settled this business."</p> + +<p>"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."</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—for so he construed the +invitation—did not often come in his way.</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure a day or two won't make any difference," said he, +quickly. "In any case we were not thinking of going till Monday, and +that would only mean an extra day."</p> + +<p>"Very well," Macleod said.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"It is."</p> + +<p>"All right. I must be off now. Good-by."</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—with an occasional aim at the floor, +where an imaginary hare was scurrying by.</p> + +<p>"Macleod. Macleod," said he, "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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You have my gratitude, Macleod—eternal, sincere, unbounded," the major +said, seriously.</p> + +<p>"But it is not I who am asking you to go and massacre a lot of +pheasants," 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>"You don't think of coming to live in England, do you?" said he.</p> + +<p>"No—at least, not at present," Macleod said. "Of course; one never +knows what may turn up. I don't propose to live at Dare all my life."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_183" id="Page_183" />Your wife might want to live in England," the major said, coolly.</p> + +<p>Macleod started and stared.</p> + +<p>"You have been writing a good many letters of late," said his companion.</p> + +<p>"And is that all?" said Macleod, answering him in the Gaelic. "You know +the proverb—<i>Tossing the head will not make the boat row</i>. I am not +married yet."</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—two short November days—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—for he mostly went about +alone—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—half starved, and pale, and emaciated +as she was—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—Heaven does +know what—blessings on the head of the very man who had carried her +child into slavery.</p> + +<p>"And the first time I am going over to Oban," said he, "<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?" said he.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, sir, I got the rabbits."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The poor woman seemed to hesitate for a second.</p> + +<p>"If there was any sewing, sir," wiping her eyes with the corner of her +apron, "that I could do for your good lady, sir—"</p> + +<p>"But I am not married," said he, quickly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, indeed, sir," she said with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"I was not thinking of paying, sir; but to show you I am not +ungrateful," 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>"I want a bouquet," said he to the neat-handed maiden who looked up at +him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said she; "will you look at those in the window?"</p> + +<p>"But I want one," said he, "with a single rose—a red rose—in the +centre."</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—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>"Yes," said he, "I think you are quite right. You are quite right, I am +sure. But it is this that I would rather have—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."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the young lady, with a pleasing smile (she was rather +good-looking herself). "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?"</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>"But you must have something to break the white," said she, smiling, "or +it will look too like a bride's bouquet;" and with that—almost in the +twinkling of an eye—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>"What price would you like to give, sir?" the gentle Phyllis had said at +the very outset. "Half a guinea—fifteen shillings?"</p> + +<p>"Give me a beautiful rose," said he, "and I do not mind what the price +is."</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>"Shall I take the address?" 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—perhaps disappointed.</p> + +<p>"Is there no message, sir?" said she—"no card?"</p> + +<p>"No; but you must be sure to have it delivered to-night."</p> + +<p>"It shall be sent off at once," 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—behold!—the red rose wanting! And then, +at the same moment, he turned; and there was a vision of something all +in white—that came to him timidly—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—and the lonely shores of Fladda—and the +distant Dutchman roused from his winter sleep amidst the wild waves? Far +away over the white sands of Iona—and the sunlight must be shining +there now—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>—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—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>"Oh, Mopsy," said she—and this was a pet name she gave her sister Carry +when the latter was in great favor—"did you ever see such a morning in +November? Don't you think papa might take us to Kew Gardens?"</p> + +<p>"I want to speak to you, Carry—come here," she said, gravely; and the +younger sister went and stood by the table. "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?"</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 +"sympathy."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" said she, sharply.</p> + +<p>"There—already!" exclaimed the other, apparently in deep +disappointment. "Just when I most need your kindness and sympathy, you +show yourself most unfeeling—"</p> + +<p>"I wish you would tell me what it is all about," 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>"<a name="Page_188" id="Page_188" />Carry," she said, in a low voice, "I have promised to marry Sir Keith +Macleod."</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>"Well, Gertrude White!" said she, apparently when she had recovered her +breath. "Well—I—I—I—never!"</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>"Now, Carry, be reasonable—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—" 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>"I suppose," said she, "before you allowed Sir Keith Macleod to ask you +to become his wife, you explained to him our circumstances."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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—no wonder, after eight +years of absolute silence."</p> + +<p>But Carry, having fired this shot, was off after other ammunition.</p> + +<p>"You told him you had sweethearts before?"</p> + +<p>"No, I did not," said Miss Gertrude White, warmly, "because it isn't +true."</p> + +<p>"What?—Mr. Howson?"</p> + +<p>"The orchestra leader in a provincial theatre!"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! but you did not speak so contemptuously of him then. Why, you +made him believe he was another Mendelssohn!"</p> + +<p>"You are talking nonsense."</p> + +<p>"And Mr. Brook—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—"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gertrude White!" said Carry, solemnly. "Will you sit there and tell +me you gave him no encouragement?"</p> + +<p>"This is mere folly!" the elder sister said, petulantly; as she rose and +proceeded to put straight a few of the things about the room. "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."</p> + +<p>"Where is it to be?"</p> + +<p>"Wherever my husband wishes it to be," she answered, proudly; but there +was a conscious flush of color in her face as she uttered—for the first +time—that word.</p> + +<p>"In the Highlands, I suppose, for he is not rich enough to have two +houses," said Carry; which showed that she had been pondering over this +matter before. "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!"</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!—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 "Yes." +Thereafter, according to his showing, everything else was a mere trifle. +Obstacles, troubles, de<a name="Page_190" id="Page_190" />lays?—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>"You may be as disagreeable as you like, Carry," said she, almost +wearily. "I cannot help it. I never could understand your dislike to Sir +Keith Macleod."</p> + +<p>"Cannot you understand," said the younger sister, with some show of +indignation, "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?"</p> + +<p>So far from being annoyed by this strong language, the elder sister +seemed quite pleased.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Carry, I like to hear you talk like that," she said, with +a smile. "You almost persuade me that I am not asking him for too great +a sacrifice, after all—"</p> + +<p>"A sacrifice! On his part!" exclaimed the younger sister; and then she +added, with decision: "but it shan't be, Gertrude White! I will go to +papa."</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," said the elder sister, who was nearer the door, "you need +not trouble yourself: I am going now."</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>"I have just had the pleasure of an interview with Carry, papa," she +said, with a certain bitterness of tone, "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."</p> + +<p>She sank down in an easy-chair. There was a look on her face which +plainly said, "Now do your worst; I cannot be more wretched than I am."</p> + +<p>"You have promised to marry Sir Keith Macleod?" 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>"Yes," she answered.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, with the same deliberation of tone, "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."</p> + +<p>"I thought you would say so," she said, with a sort of desperate mirth. +"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—as you have taught me—"</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>"What have <i>you</i> to say to me, papa? I am a fool to mind what a +schoolgirl says."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that I have anything to say," he observed, calmly. "You +know your own feelings best."</p> + +<p>And then he regarded her attentively.</p> + +<p>"I suppose when you marry you will give up the stage."</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," she said, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"I should doubt," he said, with quite a dispassionate air, "your being +able to play one part for a lifetime. You might get tired—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—if you are sure you will have no regret—if, +as I say, you think you can play the one part for a lifetime—well and +good."</p> + +<p>"And you are right," she said, bitterly, "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."</p> + +<p>Then she altered her tone.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he; but wondering why this incident should be referred to at +such a moment.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_192" id="Page_192" />I did not tell you the truth—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—or a woman."</p> + +<p>"Bah!" said he. "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—that is the only point."</p> + +<p>"And so you have given me your congratulations, papa," she said, rising. +"I have been so thoroughly trained to be an actress that, when I marry, +I shall only go from one stage to another."</p> + +<p>"That was only a figure of speech," said he.</p> + +<p>"At all events," she said, "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."</p> + +<p>"As for the newspapers," he retorted, "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—that was always an unreasonable +vexation on your part—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and that only made it the more humiliating to myself," said she, +quickly.</p> + +<p>"But think of this," said he. "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."</p> + +<p>"I can do with that as you suggested about the newspapers: I need not go +to the theatre."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Gerty. I hope all will be for the best. But do not be in a +hurry; take time and consider."</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>"Papa," said she, diffidently, "Sir Keith Macleod is coming up to-morrow +morning—to go to church with us."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" said he, indifferently.</p> + +<p>"He may speak to you before we go."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Of course I have nothing to say in the matter. You are +mistress of your own actions."</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?—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—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—with all its intoxicating successes, +and hopes, and strugg<a name="Page_194" id="Page_194" />les—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—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, "Have I lived +the life you wished me to live?" 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—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—even in November—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—which is usually a somewhat misty +thoroughfare—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?—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>"<a name="Page_196" id="Page_196" />My dear Macleod," said he, with an oracular air, "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—if I may say so—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—"</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>"Your happiness will all depend on one thing," said he to Macleod, with +a complacent wisdom in the round and jovial face. "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—is she likely, or not likely, to prove a sigher?"</p> + +<p>"A what?" said Macleod, apparently awakening from a trance.</p> + +<p>"A sigher. A woman who goes about the house all day sighing, whether +over your sins or her own, she won't tell you."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I cannot say," Macleod said, laughing. "I should hope not. I +think she has excellent spirits."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" 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—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—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—he seemed better inclined.</p> + +<p>"But why shouldn't we go to the theatre to-night?" said he, in his +simple way.</p> + +<p>Macleod looked embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"Frankly, then, Stuart," said he, "I don't want you to make her +acquaintance as an actress."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," said he, not greatly disappointed. "Perhaps it is +better. You see, I may be questioned at Castle Dare. Have you considered +that matter?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no," Macleod said, lightly and cheerfully, "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."</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—judging by +his experiences in the highlands—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>"Mind you, Stuart," Macleod said, "if we are posted anywhere near each +other—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."</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:—</p> + +<p>"Beauregard, look here. I suppose, in this sort of shooting, you have +some little understanding with your head-keeper about the posts—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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I have borrowed Ogilvie's. Stuart has none."</p> + +<p>"I will get one for him."</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—if he could at this +moment look forward to meeting her at dinner—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—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>"Come in," he said, and Major Stuart entered, blooming and roseate over +his display of white linen.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious!" said he, "aren't you dressed yet? It wants but ten +minutes to dinner-time. What have you been doing?"</p> + +<p>Macleod jumped up with some shamefacedness, and began to array himself +quickly.</p> + +<p>"Macleod," said the major, subsiding into the big armchair very +carefully so as not to crease his shining shirt-front, "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—when he keeps brooding over it +day and night—he is bound to become mad. They call it monomania. You +are becoming a monomaniac."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think I am," Macleod said, laughing; "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."</p> + +<p>"Bah!" the major cried, "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—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—and women squealing—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—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?"</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—the "stops"—had to be posted so as to check +runners. And then the six guns went down over a ploughed field—half +clay and half chalk, and ankle deep—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—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>"Well hit!" 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>"This is rather like firing at bomb-shells," 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, +"Shoot high! shoot high!" 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>"Well, Stuart," Macleod said, "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—well, I should like see him try."</p> + +<p>"Macleod," said the major, gravely, as they plodded along, "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 £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—"</p> + +<p>Here there was a loud call from Lord Beauregard, who had overtaken +them—"<i>Hare! hare! Mark hare?</i>" The major jumped round, put up his gun, +and banged away—shooting far ahead in his eagerness. Macleod looked on, +and did not even raise his gun.</p> + +<p>"That comes of talking," the major said, gloomily. "And you—why didn't +you shoot? I never saw you miss a hare in my life."</p> + +<p>"I was not thinking of it," 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—even when the whirring, bright-plumaged birds +were starting from time to time from the hedgerows—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—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, "Macleod! Macleod!" +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>"Lord Beauregard," said he, cheerfully, "I want you to show me a +thorough-going hot corner. You know I am an ignoramus of this kind of +thing."</p> + +<p>"Well," said his host, "there is a good bit along here, if you would +rather go on."</p> + +<p>"Go on?" said he. "Of course!"</p> + +<p>And it was a "hot corner." 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 "stop" 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 "hot corner" 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—Lord Beauregard all the time calling out +from the <a name="Page_204" id="Page_204" />other side of the hedge, "Shoot high! shoot high!" 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—all the guns being together now—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>"This is downright stupidity," he said to Major Stuart, who was blazing +away as hard as ever he could cram cartridges into the hot barrels of +his gun. "You can't tell whether you are hitting the bird or not. There! +Three men fired at that bird—the other two were not touched."</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—to five +guns.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the major, taking off his cap and wiping his forehead, +"that was a bit of a scrimmage!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Macleod, who had been watching with some amusement his +friend's fierce zeal; "but it was not shooting. I defy you to say how +many birds you shot. Or I will do this with you—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."</p> + +<p>"To tell you the truth, Macleod," said the other, "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."</p> + +<p>"There you are right; and I will go back with you," 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>"<a name="Page_205" id="Page_205" />That sounds rather well, Macleod," said he, ruefully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you must remain in London—though I hope not—I will stay with +you," 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—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>"But you have not the air," said he to Macleod, "of a young fellow going +to see his sweetheart. What is the matter, man?"</p> + +<p>Macleod hesitated for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Well, I am anxious she should impress you favorably," said he, frankly; +"and it is an awkward position for her—and she will be embarrassed, no +doubt—and I have some pity for her, and almost wish some other way had +been taken—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense?" the major said, cheerfully. "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—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—<i>in loco parentis</i>, and that kind of thing—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."</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>"What I meant was," he said, instantly, "that nature had taught the +simplest of virgins a certain trick of fence—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."</p> + +<p>"And indeed, Stuart," said he, rising as if to shake off some weight of +gloomy feeling, "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—I cannot breathe fast +enough; and then, again, I get into such unreasoning fears and +troubles—Well, let us get out into the fresh air."</p> + +<p>The major carefully smoothed his hat once more, and took up his cane. He +followed Macleod down stairs—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>"Your nerves are not in a healthy state, that's the fact, Macleod," said +the major, as they walked along. "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."</p> + +<p>"Am I likely to do that?" Macleod said, laughing.</p> + +<p>"There was young Bouverie," the major continued, not heeding the +question—"what a handsome young fellow he was when he joined us at +Gawulpoor!—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—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—big wells, you know—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—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—so he told us afterward—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—"</p> + +<p>"And did she marry him, after all?" Macleod said, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"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," said the major, honestly, "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."</p> + +<p>"And I would send you our Donald, and he would play, 'Cha till mi +tuilich' for you," Macleod said.</p> + +<p>"But as for blowing my brains out! Well," the major added, with a +philosophic air, "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—to show his great love for her—and then he coolly +gives himself up to the police, and says he is quite content to be +hanged."</p> + +<p>"Stuart," said Macleod, laughing, "I don't like this talk about hanging. +You said a minute or two ago that I was mad."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_208" id="Page_208" />More or less," observed the major, with absolute gravity; "as the +lawyer said when he mentioned the Fifteen-acres park at Dublin."</p> + +<p>"Well, let us get into a hansom," Macleod said. "When I am hanged you +will ask them to write over my tombstone that I never kept anybody +waiting for either luncheon or dinner."</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>"But what's this!" he cried, going to the mantelpiece and taking down a +drawing that was somewhat ostentatiously placed there. "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!"</p> + +<p>He showed the rude drawing to Macleod—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>"Carry has no great love for the Highlands," she said, laughing and +slightly blushing at the same time; "but she need not have prepared so +cruel a welcome for you. Won't you sit down, Major Stuart? Papa will be +here directly."</p> + +<p>"I think it is uncommonly clever," 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—"Perhaps she will like us better when +she knows more about us."</p> + +<p>"Do you think," said Miss White, demurely, "that it is <a name="Page_209" id="Page_209" />possible for any +one born in the South to learn to like the bagpipes?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Macleod, quickly—and it was not usual for him to break in in +this eager way about a usual matter of talk—"that is all a question of +association. If you had been brought up to associate the sound of the +pipes with every memorable thing—with the sadness of a funeral, and the +welcome of friends come to see you, and the pride of going away to +war—then you would understand why 'Lord Lovat's Lament,' or the +'Farewell to Gibraltar,' or the 'Heights of Alma'—why these bring the +tears to a Highlander's eyes. The pibrochs preserve our legends for us," +he went on to say, in rather an excited fashion, for he was obviously +nervous, and perhaps a trifle paler than usual. "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—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."</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>"The other morning," she said, complacently, and she pulled down her +dainty white cuffs another sixteenth of an inch, "I was going along +Buckingham Palace Road, and I met a detachment—is a detachment right, +Major Stuart?—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—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."</p> + +<p>"Faith," said the major, gallantly, "I would exchange into that +regiment, if I had to serve as a drummer-boy."</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—a very little no doubt—from the reflected lustre of her +social position.</p> + +<p>"We were talking about officers, papa," she said, brightly, "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?"</p> + +<p>Macleod started.</p> + +<p>"I hope not," said he gravely.</p> + +<p>"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—what was it?—that nobody could tell what sword was in a +scabbard until it was drawn?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said he, laughing somewhat nervously, "you forget: I was talking +to the Duchess of Devonshire."</p> + +<p>"And I am sure her Grace was much obliged to you for frightening her +so," 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—judging by his one eye +only—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>"And if you should ever come to our part of the world, Miss White," said +the major—not letting his glance meet hers—"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>—that is, the Cavern of the Skulls—where the Macleods +murdered fifty of the Macleans, though Alastair Crotach, the humpbacked +son of Macleod, was himself killed."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Major Stuart," said Miss Carry, with a grand +stateliness in her tone, "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."</p> + +<p>She handed him the bit of paper; and he read these words: <i>"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."</i></p> + +<p>"Upon my word," said the honest major, "it is a most formidable +indictment. You had better ask Sir Keith about it."</p> + +<p>He handed the paper across the table; Macleod read it, and burst out +laughing.</p> + +<p>"It is too true, Carry," said he. "We are a dreadful lot of people up +there among the hills. Nothing but murder and rapine from morning till +night."</p> + +<p>"I was telling him this morning he would probably be hanged," observed +the major, gravely.</p> + +<p>"For what?" Miss White asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said the major, carelessly, "I did not specify the offence. +Cattle-lifting, probably."</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,—</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," said he.</p> + +<p>"We cannot ask you to dine with us," she said, quite simply and frankly, +"because of my engagements in the evening; but we are always at home at +lunch-time, and Sir Keith knows the way."</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," said the major, as he warmly pressed her hand.</p> + +<p>The two friends passed out into the street.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_213" id="Page_213" />My dear fellow," said the major, "you have been lucky—don't imagine I +am humbugging you. A really handsome lass, and a thorough woman of the +world, too—trained and fitted at every point; none of your farmyard +beauties. But I say, Macleod—I say," he continued, solemnly, "won't she +find it a trifle dull at Castle Dare?—the change, you know."</p> + +<p>"It is not necessary that she should live at Dare," Macleod said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course, you know your own plans best."</p> + +<p>"I have none. All that is in the air as yet. And so you do not think I +have make a mistake."</p> + +<p>"I wish I was five-and-twenty, and could make a mistake like that," said +the major, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Miss Carry had confronted her sister.</p> + +<p>"So you have been inspected, Gerty. Do you think you passed muster?"</p> + +<p>"Go away, and don't be impertinent, you silly girl!" 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>"There," said she, "put that in your purse, and don't tell me you have +not been warned, Gertrude White."</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—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—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>"You look like a man going to be hanged," said the major, about noon. +"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."</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>"Macleod," said the gallant soldier, as the two friends walked leisurely +down towards the Thames, "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."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" said he, absently.</p> + +<p>"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—we were in robust health as a +nation—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—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."</p> + +<p>"Good gracious!" said Macleod, waking up, "what is all this about?"</p> + +<p>"Rob Roy," observed the major, oracularly, "was a healthy man. I will +make you a bet he was not much troubled by chilblains."</p> + +<p>"Stuart," Macleod cried, "do you want to drive me mad? What on earth are +you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"Anything," the major confessed, frankly, "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."</p> + +<p>"Castle Dare," repeated Macleod, gloomily. "I think I shall scarcely +know the place again; and we have been away about a fortnight!"</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—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—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—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, "You are not ill?"</p> + +<p>"No, no," he said rising, and his face was haggard somewhat; "but—but +it is not pleasant to come to say good-by—"</p> + +<p>"You must not take it so seriously as that," she said, with a friendly +smile.</p> + +<p>"My going away is like going into a grave," he said, slowly. "It is +dark."</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>"Sometimes," he said, watching her eyes, "I think I shall never see you +again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Keith," said she, drawing her hands away, and speaking half +playfully, "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."</p> + +<p>"It would not be a very good thing for me," he said, still regarding +her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, don't speak of it," said she, lightly; "let us speak of all +that is to be done in the long time that must pass before we meet—"</p> + +<p>"But why '<i>must?</i>'" said he, eagerly—"why '<i>must?</i>' If you knew how I +looked forward to the blackness of this winter away up there—so far +away from you that I shall forget the sound of your voice—oh! you +cannot know what it is to me?"</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>"But there is a '<i>must</i>,' you know," she said, cheerfully, "and we ought +to be sensible folk and recognize it. You know I ought to have a +probationary period, as it were—like a nun, you know, just to see if +she is fit to—"</p> + +<p>Here Miss White paused, with a little embarrassment; but presently she +charged the difficulty, and said, with a slight laugh,—</p> + +<p>"<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—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."</p> + +<p>"You will never become a Highland-woman," he said, with a grave +kindness. "Is it needful? I would rather see you as you are than playing +a part."</p> + +<p>Her eyes expressed some quick wonder, for he had almost quoted her +father's words to her.</p> + +<p>"You would rather see me as I am?" she said, demurely. "But what am I? I +don't know myself."</p> + +<p>"You are a beautiful and gentle-hearted Englishwoman," he said, with +honest admiration—"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—that is, my cousin Janet."</p> + +<p>"Now you have spoiled all my ambition," she said, somewhat petulantly. +"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!"</p> + +<p>"That is impossible," 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>"Ah, well, I am not going to quarrel with you on this our last day +together," she said, and she gently placed her soft white hand on the +clinched fist that rested on the table. "I see you are in great +trouble—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."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," he said, hastily, "if it is all true—if it is all +possible—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—never after this day."</p> + +<p>"Ah, now," said she, brightly—for she feared this black demon getting +possession of him again—"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!"</p> + +<p>"You will?" he said, with a flush of joy on his face.</p> + +<p>"But I don't want any one else to see me," she said, looking down.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I will manage that," he said, eagerly. "I will get Major Stuart +into the carriage ten minutes before the train starts."</p> + +<p>"Colonel Ross?"</p> + +<p>"He goes back to Erith to-night."</p> + +<p>"And I will bring to the station," said she, with some shy color in her +face, "a little present—if you should speak of me to your mother, you +might give her this from me; it belonged to my mother."</p> + +<p>Could anything have been more delicately devised than this tender and +timid message?</p> + +<p>"You have a woman's heart," 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?—though he flushed slightly. It was a favor she asked. "I +will know where you are," 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:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">"Hi-ri-libhin o, Brae MacIntyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hi-ri-libhin o, Costly thy wooing!<br /></span> +<span class="i65"> Thou'st slain the maid.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hug-o-rin-o, '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"> He was leal<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hug-o-rin-o, Chance betrayed him."<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:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span> "Hi-ri-libhin o, Buin Bàta,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hi-ri-libhin o, Fag an dàthaich,<br /></span> +<span class="i65"> Seachain Mule,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hug-o-ri-no; Sna taodh Jura!"<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 +"Good-night?" scrawled in pencil. It was the last time he ever was in +any theatre.</p> + +<p>Then that next morning—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>"Come and take your place, Macleod," the major said. "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—"</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—with the hollow footfalls of strangers, and the +cries outside. His face was quite white when he took her hand.</p> + +<p>"I am very late," 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>"Gertrude," said he at last, "whatever happens to us two, you will never +forget that I loved you?"</p> + +<p>"I think I may be sure of that," she said, looking down.</p> + +<p>They rang a bell outside.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, then."</p> + +<p>He tightly grasped the hand he held; once more he gazed into those clear +and confiding eyes—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, "<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>"—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>"Poor fellow," she was thinking to herself, "he is very much in +earnest—far more in earnest than even poor Howson. It would break my +heart if I were to bring him any trouble."</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>"Dear me," she was saying to herself, "I quite forgot to ask him whether +my Gaelic was good!"</p> + +<p>When she had got into the street outside, the day was brightening.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," she was asking herself, "whether Carry would come and look +at that exhibition of water-colors; and what would the cab fare be?"</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—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—impossible, +alas!—he had thought of. If only he could have taken Gertrude White by +the hand—if only he could have led her up the hall, and presented her +to his mother, and said, "Mother, this is your daughter; is she not fit +to be the daughter of so proud a mother?"—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—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>"And now, Keith," said his cousin Janet, with the wise gray eyes grown +cheerful and kind, "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?"</p> + +<p>"How can I answer you all at once, Janet?" said he, laughing in a +somewhat nervous way. "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—the actress I +met at the house of Colonel Ross of Duntorme?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I remember very well."</p> + +<p>"Because," said he—and his fingers were rather nervous as he took out a +package from his breast-pocket—"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—"</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>"She is very good-looking," said Lady Macleod. "Oh yes, she is very +good-looking. And that is her sister?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Janet was looking over them too.</p> + +<p>"But where did you get all the photographs of her Keith?" she said. +"They are from all sorts of places—Scarborough, Newcastle, Brighton—"</p> + +<p>"I got them from herself," said he.</p> + +<p>"Oh do you know her so well?"</p> + +<p>"I know her very well. She was the most intimate friend of the people +whose acquaintance I first made in London," he said, simply, and then he +turned to his mother; "I wish photographs could speak, mother, for then +you might make her acquaintance; and as she is coming to the Highlands +next year—"</p> + +<p>"We have no theatre in Mull, Keith," Lady Macleod said, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"But by that time she will not be an actress at all: did I not tell you +that before?" he said, eagerly. "Did I not tell you that? She is going +to leave the stage—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."</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>"It would be strange if they were to come to so unfrequented a place as +the west of Mull," said Lady Macleod, somewhat coldly, as she put the +photographs aside.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"No one objected to me as a stranger when I went to London," said he, +proudly.</p> + +<p>"If they are anywhere in the neighborhood," said Lady Macleod, "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—"</p> + +<p>"Then it is to the inn at Bunessan they must go?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Now, auntie," said Janet Macleod, with a gentle voice, "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."</p> + +<p>This appeal to the Highland pride of the mother was not to be withstood.</p> + +<p>"Very well, Keith," said she. "We shall do what we can for your friends, +though it isn't much in this old place."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_224" id="Page_224" />She will not look at it that way," he said, eagerly, "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—"</p> + +<p>Lady Macleod started.</p> + +<p>"How long do you propose this visit should last?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," he said, hastily. "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—and you know how the men are +delighted to see a new face—"</p> + +<p>"You would never think of that, Keith," his cousin said. "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?"</p> + +<p>"She has the courage for that or for anything," said he. "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."</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>"She is already anxious to make your acquaintance mother," said he to +the proud old dame who sat there ominously silent. "And she could think +of no other message to send you than this—it belonged to her mother."</p> + +<p>He opened the little package—of old lace, or something of that +kind—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>"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—a present coming to me from an absolute stranger—- and +that stranger an actress who is quite unknown to any one I know—"</p> + +<p>"Mother, mother," he cried, "don't say any more. She has promised to be +my wife."</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>"Keith," she said, slowly and with a cold dignity, "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."</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>"Janet," said he, "it is no jest at all!"</p> + +<p>"I know that," said she, in a low voice, and her face was somewhat pale. +"I have known that. I knew it before you went away to England this last +time."</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>"Keith," said she, "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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh Janet, if you could only see her and know her!"</p> + +<p>She turned aside for a moment—only for a moment. When he next saw her +face she was quite gay.</p> + +<p>"You must know, Keith," said she, with a smile shining through the tears +of the friendly eyes, "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."</p> + +<p>"I never could expect that from you, Janet," said he. "I knew that was +impossible from you."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_226" id="Page_226" />As for auntie, then," she said, warmly, "is it not natural that she +should be surprised and perhaps offended—"</p> + +<p>"But she says she does not believe it—that I am making a joke of it—"</p> + +<p>"That is only her way of protesting, you know," said the wise cousin. +"And you must expect her to be angry and obdurate, because women have +their prejudices, you know, Keith; and this young lady—well, it is a +pity she is not known to some one auntie knows."</p> + +<p>"She is known to Norman Ogilvie, and to dozens of Norman Ogilvie's +friends, and Major Stuart has seen her," said he, quickly; and then he +drew back. "But that is nothing. I do not choose to have any one to +vouch for her."</p> + +<p>"I know that; I understand that, Keith," Janet Macleod said, gently. "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."</p> + +<p>"Patient I would be, if it concerned myself alone," said he; "but the +reflection—the insult of the doubt—"</p> + +<p>"Now, now, Keith," said she, "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."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if there ever was any woman as kind as you are, Janet?" said +he, looking at her with a sort of wondering admiration.</p> + +<p>"You must not say that any more now," she said, with a smile. "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."</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 +"white slave." 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>"And, you know, Keith, she speaks a good deal for her self," Janet +Macleod said, turning over the photographs and looking at them perhaps a +little wistfully. "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."</p> + +<p>"That is what I know," said he, eagerly. "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—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."</p> + +<p>"But if she is convinced," said Janet, doubtfully, "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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, he has," said Macleod; and then he added, with some hesitation, +"well, Janet, I did not like to press that. She has already granted so +much. But I might ask her."</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>"Perhaps auntie thinks I am conspiring with you Keith," she said, +laughing, when the girl had gone. "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—that is all."</p> + +<p>"You have always been a good friend to me, Janet," he said.</p> + +<p>"And I hope it will all turn out for your happiness, Keith," she said, +gently, as she left.</p> + +<p>But as for Lady Macleod, when Janet reached her room, the haughty old +dame was "neither to hold nor to bind." 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>"Oh, auntie," said the patient Janet, "he has been a good son to you; +and you must have known he would marry some day."</p> + +<p>"Marry?" said the old lady, and she turned a quick eye on Janet herself. +"I was anxious to see him married; and when he was choosing a wife I +think he might have looked nearer home, Janet."</p> + +<p>"What a wild night it is!" said Janet Macleod quickly, and she went for +a moment to the window. "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?"</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—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—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—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>"Yesterday morning," she wrote, "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—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—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."</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>"I never in my life saw anything more beautiful," she wrote to him, +"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—the sunlight on it—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'—the +utterance of the word <i>connu</i>—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—I +generously overlook the faults of others—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—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."</p> + +<p>That still dream of Regent's Park in sunlight and snow he carried about +with him as a vision—a picture—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—when they were visible at all—on the +leaden-hued and coldly rushing Atlantic.</p> + +<p>"I have passed through the gates of the Palace of Art," she wrote, two +days later, from the calmer and sunnier South; "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—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—or, rather, +stand—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—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 mediæval 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."</p> + +<p>When Macleod first read this passage, a dark expression came over his +face. He did not like this new project.</p> + +<p>"And so, yesterday afternoon," the letter continued, "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—or, rather, one +of a series of chambers—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—mark the +dramatic effect!—away in the blaze of the farther chamber appears a +solemn, slim, bowed figure, dressed all in black—the black velvet coat +seemed even blacker than black—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—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?"</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, "Here +is a letter, Keith, which I have written to Miss White. I wish you to +read it."</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. "That +is like a good mother," said he. "Do you know how happy she will be when +she receives this message from you?"</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. "It is a pretty hand," she remarked, critically.</p> + +<p>Keith Macleod read it with a proud heart. "Can you not gather what kind +of woman she is from that letter alone?" he said, eagerly. "I can almost +hear her talk in it. Janet, will you read it too?"</p> + +<p>Janet Macleod took the small sheet of perfumed paper and read it calmly, +and handed it back to her aunt. "It is a nice letter," said she. "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." 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—the yellow gas-lamps being lit—to the little +tea-table. When she visited a picture gallery, she sent him a full +report of that, even.</p> + +<p>"Why is it," she asked, "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!"</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: "If you keep my +letters," she wrote, and he laughed when he saw that <i>if</i>, "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?"</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—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. "It is like going into a +grave," 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!—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—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—an isolation, a terrible silence—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—a world of fantastic shapes, all +moving and unknown—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—Ulva +transfigured and become Alpine! Then those wan gleams of yellow light on +the sea?—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—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—apparently at the very confines of +the world—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 mediæval 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>"Hamish," said Macleod, abruptly, after reading one of these letters, +"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."</p> + +<p>"Ay, sir," said Hamish; "and if we do not know that in Mull, where will +they be likely to know that?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I do not know about the hotels," said Hamish, scornfully. "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—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—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—to London or to Inverary, ay, or the Queen's own castle on the +island—and she will go there safe, and she will come back safe; and if +she is not a hotel—well, perhaps she will not be a hotel; but she is a +fine good boat, and she has swinging lamps whatever."</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—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—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—heather and rowan-berries intermixed—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—do you know what she is going to +do to-morrow?—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>"Well, sir?" Hamish said, at length; and Macleod started.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," he said, impatiently, "why don't you go on deck and +find out where the leakage of the skylight is?"</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,—</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"I am sure the duke does not know of it, Keith," his cousin Janet said, +"or he would have a great alteration made."</p> + +<p>"It is easy to make alterations," said he, "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."</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 "white +wonder of the snow," 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>"And if you are lost in a snowdrift in Glen Finichen, Keith, what are we +to do for you?"</p> + +<p>"What are you to do for me?—why, Donald will make a fine Lament; and +what more than that?"</p> + +<p>"Cannot you send one of the Camerons with a message, Keith?" his mother +said.</p> + +<p>"Well, mother," said he, "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."</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,—"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?"</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>"It's a bad day for you to be out this day, Sir Keith," said he, in the +Gaelic, "and you have no cause to be out; and why will you not go back +to Castle Dare?"</p> + +<p>"Have you any letter for me, John?" 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>"Sir Keith, Sir Keith!" cried the old man, "you will not go on now?" And +as he spoke, another blast of snow tore across the glen, and there was a +rumble of thunder among the hills.</p> + +<p>"Why, John," Macleod called back again from the gray gloom of the +whirling snow and sleet, "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—nothing to do here but read books?"</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"And I would go to London, too!" he said suddenly, and then he stopped. +He was somewhat embarrassed. "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—and, you know, she will soon cease to be an +actress."</p> + +<p>"But why not now," said Janet Macleod, with some wonder, "if she has +such a great dislike for it?"</p> + +<p>"That I do not know," 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>"But you know, my dear Keith," she wrote back, "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—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—don't laugh, dear Keith—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">"'O gentle Romeo,<br /></span> +<span>If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully!'"<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>"Send Donald down to the quay," said he, "and tell them to get the boat +ready. And he will take down my gun too."</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>"Donald," said he, in the Gaelic, "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."</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>"<a name="Page_248" id="Page_248" />Would you like to go for a sail, Johnny?" Macleod said abruptly, but +there was no longer that dangerous light in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, sir," said the boy, eagerly; for he had long ago lost his dread +of the sea.</p> + +<p>"Get in, then, and get up to the bow."</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>"Where will you be for going, sir?" said one of the men when Macleod had +jumped into the stern and taken the tiller.</p> + +<p>"Anywhere—right out!" he answered, carelessly.</p> + +<p>But it was all very well to say "right out!" 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>"What's the good of you as a lookout?" he cried. "Didn't you see the +water coming?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," 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>"Keep her close up, sir," 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>"I would keep her away a bit," 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>"Were you ever in a theatre, Duncan?" 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>"Oh yes, Sir Keith," said he, as he shook the salt-water away from his +short beard. "It was at Greenock. I will be at the theatre, and more +than three times or two times."</p> + +<p>"How would you like to have a parcel of actors and actresses with us +now?" he said, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"'Deed, I would not like it at all," 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. "The +women they would chump apout, and then you do not know what will happen +at all."</p> + +<p>"A little bit away yet, sir!" cried out the other sailor, who was +looking out to windward, with his head between the gunwale and the sail. +"There is a bad rock off the point."</p> + +<p>"Why, it is half a mile north of our course as we are now going!" +Macleod said.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, half a mile!" the man said to himself; "but I do not like half +miles, and half miles, and half miles on a day like this!"</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>"Up with the sail, lad!" 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>"He has got him! I can see the two!" 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>"That is foolishness!" his brother cried in the Gaelic. "You will have +to take an oar!"</p> + +<p>"I will not take an oar!" the other cried, with both hands ready to let +go the halyards. "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!"</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"Have you any whiskey, John?" 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>"<a name="Page_252" id="Page_252" />Now, Johnny Wickes," Macleod said to the boy, who was quite blinded +and bewildered, but otherwise apparently not much the worse, "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."</p> + +<p>Johnny Wickes did not understand; but he swallowed the whiskey, and then +he began to look about him a bit.</p> + +<p>"Will I put my clothes round him, Sir Keith?" Duncan Cameron said.</p> + +<p>"And go home that way to Dare?" Macleod said, with a loud laugh. "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?"</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>"You will soon be warm enough in that, Master Wickes," said he; "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."</p> + +<p>"Ay, Sir Keith," said John Cameron, eagerly, in his native tongue, "that +is what I will be saying to myself. If the story is told—and Hamish +will hear that you will nearly drown yourself—what is it he will not do +to that boy? It is for killing him he will be."</p> + +<p>"Not as bad as that, John," Macleod said, good-naturedly. "Come, there +is a glass for each of us; and you may give me the tiller now."</p> + +<p>"I will take no whiskey, Sir Keith, with thanks to you," said John +Cameron; "I was not in the water."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_253" id="Page_253" />There is plenty for all, man!"</p> + +<p>"I was not in the water."</p> + +<p>"I tell you there is plenty for all of us!"</p> + +<p>"There is the more for you, Sir Keith," 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>"You have had the soup, then? You look pretty comfortable."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said the boy, whose face was now flushed red with the +reaction after the cold. "I beg your pardon, sir."</p> + +<p>"For tumbling into the water?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," said Johnny Wickes. "I beg your pardon, sir."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Master Wickes chose the less heroic remedy; but, indeed, the +companionship of Oscar was not needed; for Janet Macleod—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—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,—</p> + +<p>"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."</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, "<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>"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII" />CHAPTER XXXII.</h2> + +<h3>HAMISH.</h3> + + +<p>And now—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—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!—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>"Oh, Keith!" Janet Macleod cried, with sudden tears <a name="Page_256" id="Page_256" />starting to her +eyes, "do you know what Captain Macallum has done for you? The steamer +has got all her flags out!"</p> + +<p>Macleod flushed red.</p> + +<p>"Well, Janet," said he, "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?"</p> + +<p>"And a very proper thing, too," said Major Stuart, who was standing hard +by. "A very pretty compliment to strangers; and you know you have not +many visitors coming to Castle Dare."</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>"Into the boat with you now, lads!" 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>"Put your strength into it now," said he, in the Gaelic, "and show them +how the Mull lads can row!"</p> + +<p>And then again—</p> + +<p>"Steady now! Well rowed all!"</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—all in white and blue—and he has caught her eyes—at +last! at last!</p> + +<p>He seized the rope and sprang up the iron ladder.</p> + +<p>"Welcome to you, sweetheart!" said he, in a low voice, and his trembling +hand grasped hers.</p> + +<p>"How do you, Keith?" said she. "Must we go down these steps?"</p> + +<p>He had no time to wonder over the coldness—the petulance almost—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>"The commissariat arrangements are primitive," 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—Major Stuart, for +example, or Norman Ogilvie—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>"We will soon take you ashore now," 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—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,—</p> + +<p>"Donald, that was a good pibroch you played for the English lady."</p> + +<p>But what was the English lady's thanks? Donald had not played over sixty +seconds when she turned to Macleod and said,—</p> + +<p>"Keith I wish you would stop him. I have a headache."</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,—</p> + +<p>"Donald, do you not hear? Put down the pipes."</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,—</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—seeing that she sometimes painted +a little in water-color—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>"The sea did not make you ill?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh no," 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>"It is a very small boat to be out in the open sea," she remarked, +looking at the long and shapely gig that was cleaving the summer waves.</p> + +<p>"Not on a day like this, surely," said he, laughing. "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?"</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>"Miss White has a headache, mother," Macleod said, eager to account +beforehand for any possible constraint in her manner. "Shall we send for +the pony?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no," Miss White said, looking up at the bare walls of Dare. "I shall +be very glad to have a short walk now—unless you, papa, would like to +ride?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not—certainly not," 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>"We will get you a cup of tea," said Janet Macleod, gently, to the +new-comer, "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."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is a pretty long way," 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—as +many a time he had dreamed of his walking—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—Coll +and Tiree—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>"What is that?" 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>"They are taking the gig on to the yacht," he said.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_260" id="Page_260" />But what are they singing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is <i>Fhir a bhata</i>" said he; "it is the common boat-song. It +means, <i>Good-by to you, boatman, a hundred times, wherever you may be +going.</i>"</p> + +<p>"It is very striking, very effective, to hear singing and not see the +people," she said. "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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, I think not," said he, with a nervous laugh. "But you will find +something like it, no doubt, in your book."</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>"That is very pretty," 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>"Those bushes there, you mean," said she. "The mountain-ash?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Ah," she said, "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."</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>"We have had heavy rains of late," 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,—</p> + +<p>"It is very gloomy in the daytime; but it is more cheerful at night."</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—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—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—amidst the grime and smoke of a +shepherd's hut—the shepherd's wife to patch together a pair of homespun +trousers for the sailor son coming back from the sea.</p> + +<p>"And now," said Keith Macleod to his fair neighbor, when Hamish had put +the claret and the whiskey on the table, "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," he added, in a lower +voice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, if it is a custom of the house," she said, coldly—for she thought +it was inconsiderate of him to risk bringing back her headache—"I have +no objection whatever."</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>"It is no pibroch there will be this night, for Donald is away."</p> + +<p>"Away?"</p> + +<p>"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.'"</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>"Confound the young rascal!" Macleod said, with his face grown red. "I +suppose I shall have to send a messenger to Tobermory and apologize to +him for interrupting him to-day." And then he turned to Miss White. +"They are like a set of children," he said, "with their pride and +petulance."</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>"And what do you think now of the English lady, Hamish?"</p> + +<p>Hamish answered with an old and sinister saying:</p> + +<p>"<i>A fool would he be that would burn his harp to warm her.</i>"</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—a slate-colored waste of hurrying waves with +wind-swept streaks of foam on them—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—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—looming darkly from their black backgrounds, though two or +three were in resplendent uniforms; she had examined all the trophies of +the chase—skins, horns, and what not—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>"You do not cultivate music much," she had said to Janet Macleod, with a +smile.</p> + +<p>"No," answered Janet, seriously. "We have little use for music +here—except to sing to a child now and again, and you know you do not +want a piano for that."</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—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 "St. Michael"—of the beautiful, still landscape of +it, and the mysterious joy on the face of the angel—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. "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—a +pursuit demanding the sacrifice of our constant care—what is it? The +existence of a pig is nobler—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—"</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>"Do you know what Hamish says?" he cried—"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."</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—who had +discovered that it was a fine and clear starlit night—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—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—black between her and the sky—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>"I don't know who is responsible for this madness," Mr. White said—and +the voice from inside the great waterproof coat sounded as if it meant +to be jocular—"but really, Gerty, to be on the open Atlantic in the +middle of the night, in an open boat—"</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," Macleod said, laughing, "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."</p> + +<p>"What did you say?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Macleod admitted, "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—"</p> + +<p>"I hope we shall have nothing much worse than this," 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>"Gertrude," said he, in a low voice, "do you see the phosphorous-stars +on the waves? I never saw them burn more brightly."</p> + +<p>"They are very beautiful," said she. "When do we get to land, Keith?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, pretty soon," said he. "You are not anxious to get to land?"</p> + +<p>"It is stormier than I expected."</p> + +<p>"Oh, this is nothing," said he. "I thought you would enjoy it."</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>"It may be a little bit squally," he said to her, "but we shall soon be +under the lee of Iona. Perhaps you had better hold on to something."</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—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>"Oh, Keith!" she cried—and involuntarily she seized his arm—"are we in +danger?"</p> + +<p>He could not hear what she said; but he understood the mute appeal. +Quickly disengaging his arm—for it was the arm that was working the +tiller—he called to her,—</p> + +<p>"We are all right. If you are afraid, get to the bottom of the boat."</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>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Where is papa?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"I am here—I am all right, Gerty!" was the answer—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>"Come now, Gertrude," said Macleod, "we shall be ashore in a few +minutes, and you are not frightened of a squall?"</p> + +<p>He had his arm round her, and he held her tight; but she did not answer. +At last she saw a light—a small, glimmering orange thing that quivered +apparently a hundred miles off.</p> + +<p>"See!" he said. "We are close by. And it may clear up to-night, after +all."</p> + +<p>Then he shouted to one of the men:</p> + +<p>"Sandy, we will not try the quay the night: we will go into the Martyr's +Bay."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, sir!"</p> + +<p>It was about a quarter of an hour after that—almost benumbed with +fear—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—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,—</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_269" id="Page_269" />Gertrude, will you not get up? You must let me carry you ashore."</p> + +<p>And she found herself in his arms—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>"Take my hand," said he.</p> + +<p>"But where is papa?"</p> + +<p>"Just behind us," said he, "on Sandy's shoulders. Sandy will bring him +along. Come, darling!"</p> + +<p>"But where are we going?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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—all dripping and +unrecognizable—the warm, snug little place, to the astonishment of a +handsome young lady who proved to be their hostess.</p> + +<p>"Dear me, Sir Keith," said she at length, "is it you indeed! And you +will not be going back to Dare to-night?"</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—such are the rapid changes in the Highlands—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—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?—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>"I am almost afraid," 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>"It is only the jackdaws—there are hundreds of them," 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>"Do you know where you are standing now?" said he, almost sadly. "You +are standing on the grave of Macleod of Macleod."</p> + +<p>She started aside with a slight exclamation.</p> + +<p>"I do not think they bury any one in here now," said he, gently. And +then he added, "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—to rest for ever and ever with no sound around you but the sea and +the winds—no step coming near you, and no voice but the waves."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_272" id="Page_272" />Oh Keith, you should not say such things: you frighten me!" she said, +in a trembling voice.</p> + +<p>Another voice broke in upon them, harsh and pragmatical.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Sir Keith," said Mr. White, briskly, "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?"</p> + +<p>"I will show you," 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>"Gertrude, Gertrude!" he said. "What is the matter? Won't you speak to +me?"</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>"Gertrude, see! it is only a lamb! It comes up to me every time I visit +the ruins; look!"</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 "Come in," and his daughter entered. He was +surprised by the curious look of her face—a sort of piteous look, as of +one ill at ease, and yet ashamed to speak.</p> + +<p>"What is it, child?" said he.</p> + +<p>She regarded him for a second with that piteous look; and then tears +slowly gathered in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Papa," said she, in a sort of half-hysterical way, "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—"</p> + +<p>And here she burst out crying, and sobbed bitterly.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_273" id="Page_273" />Oh, nonsense, child!" her father said; "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."</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>"Ah well, you know, pappy," said she, as she rose to leave, and she +bestowed a very pretty smile on him, "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."</p> + +<p>"I hope in going back we shall not be as near our own grave as we were +last night," her father observed.</p> + +<p>"And Keith Macleod laughs at it," she said, "and says it was unfortunate +we got a wetting!"</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>"This is the loneliest place I have ever seen," Miss Gertrude White was +saying on this the third morning after her arrival. "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."</p> + +<p>They walked on in silence, the blue waves beside them curling a crisp +white on the smooth sands.</p> + +<p>"Pappy," said she, at length, "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.'"</p> + +<p>"No doubt," said her father, cautiously.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"It is one of the most gratifying instances, Gerty, of the position you +have made," her father observed, in his slow and sententious way, "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."</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope my face will not get burned by the sea-air and the sun," +she said. "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—not to encourage me with flattery, you know—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?"</p> + +<p>"It is your very self, Gerty," her father said, with decision. "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?"</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,—</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I wish I could see myself!"</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—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>"He must have gone away in the dark to get that boat for us," said she, +musingly. "Poor fellow, how very generous and kind he is! +Sometimes—shall I make the confession, pappy?—I wish he had picked out +some one who could better have returned his warmth of feeling."</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>"I am not much of an authority on such points," said he, with a dry +smile; "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."</p> + +<p>The pale face flushed, and she answered, hastily,</p> + +<p>"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?—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!—this sun—it is too awfully dreadful! When I appear before Mr. +Lemuel again, I shall be a mulatto!"</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>"Why did you take so much trouble?" said she to him—and she took his +hand in a very kind way as he stepped on shore. "We could very well have +gone back in the boat."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I want to take you round by Loch Tua," said he, looking with +great gratitude into those friendly eyes. "And it was no trouble at all. +And will you step into the gig now?"</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,—</p> + +<p>"And will you have a cup of tea now, Gertrude? Johnny will get it to you +in a moment."</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," 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. "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."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said he, anxiously, "I hope you do not smell any tobacco?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said she. "It was only a fancy. Of course you are not +likely to turn your yacht into a lady's yacht."</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, +"Ready, about!" 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—the wide-apart, long-lashed eyes +occasionally regarding him—a neglected book open on her lap—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>"Come now, Hamish," Macleod said, fearing this monotonous idleness would +weary his fair guest, "you will tell us now one of the old stories that +you used to tell me when I was a boy."</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>"It is no more of the stories I hef now, Sir Keith," said he. "It was a +long time since I had the stories."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I could construct one myself," said Miss White, lightly. "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."</p> + +<p>"You have been a diligent student," Macleod said, laughing heartily. +"And, indeed, you might go on with the story and finish it; for who +knows now when we shall get back to Dare?"</p> + +<p>It was after a long period of thus lying in dead calm—with the +occasional appearance of a diver on the surface of the shining blue +sea—that Macleod's sharply observant eye was attracted by an odd thing +that appeared far away at the horizon.</p> + +<p>"What do you think is that now?" 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>"The track of a seal swimming under water," Mr. White suggested.</p> + +<p>"Or a shoal of fish," his daughter said.</p> + +<p>"Watch!"</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>"I cannot believe," said she to him, "that those fierce murders and +revenges took place in such beautiful scenes as these. How could they?"</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—a sky below, a sky +above. And then the beauty of the landscape that enclosed this wonderful +mirror—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—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—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—the traceries and decorations of these haunts of the mermaid.</p> + +<p>"It is like a pantomime," she said. "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."</p> + +<p>And then again she said, when they had rounded Ulva, and got a glimpse +of the open Atlantic again,</p> + +<p>"Where is it, Keith, you proposed to sink all the theatres in England +for the benefit of the dolphins and the lobsters?"</p> + +<p>He did not like these references to the theatre.</p> + +<p>"It was only a piece of nonsense," 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,—</p> + +<p>"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>"</p> + +<p>"And perhaps, then," said she, with a charming smile, "writing it down +would spoil it altogether? But you will ask them to sing it for me."</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>"I have asked them if they would drink your health," Macleod said, "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."</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—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i25">"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,"<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>"But I have been telling Sir Keith," she said, with a sweet smile, "that +I have come through the most beautiful place I have ever seen in the +world."</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>"And if it does seem impossible"—this was her inward speech to +herself—"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?"</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—now that +he could walk with her along the lonely mountain-slopes and show her the +wonders of the Western seas and the islands—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—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>"You are becoming a capital sailor," he said to her one day, with a +proud light on his face. "You have no fear at all of the sea now."</p> + +<p>He and she and the cousin Janet—Mr. White had some letters to answer, +and had stayed at home—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>"I think I would soon get over my fear of the sea," she said, gently.</p> + +<p>Indeed, it was not that that was most likely to impress her on this +bright day—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—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>"And you will have no fear of the beast when you go into Mackinnon's +cave," said Janet Macleod to her, with a friendly smile, "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—"</p> + +<p>"I think it was a wild-cat," said he.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And I suppose you are not anxious for its coming back?" Miss White +said.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you will be very lucky and see it some day, and I know that +Keith would like to shoot it, whatever it is."</p> + +<p>"That is very likely," 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>"Do you not come with us?" Miss White called back to the boat.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is many a time I have been in the cave," said Janet Macleod; +"and I will have the luncheon ready for you. And you will not stay long +in the cave, for it is cold and damp."</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—black as +night and still as the grave—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>"No," said he, and she was startled by the hollow tones <a name="Page_285" id="Page_285" />of his voice; +"I cannot find any traces of the boat news; they have all gone."</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>"You must give me your hand again, Keith," 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>"Will you go any farther?" said he.</p> + +<p>"No."</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>"If anything were to move, Keith," said she, "I should die."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense!" said he, in a cheerful way; but the hollow echoes of the +cavern made his voice sound sepulchral. "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—"</p> + +<p>"Of men!"</p> + +<p>"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—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."</p> + +<p>"I would rather not go," said she. "I—I do not like this place. I think +we will go back now, Keith."</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>"I think I will sit down for a moment, Keith," said she; and then he +noticed, with a sudden alarm, that her cheeks were rather pale.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_286" id="Page_286" />Are you ill?" said he, with a quick anxiety in his eyes "Were you +frightened?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" said she, with a forced cheerfulness, and she sat down for a +moment on one of the smooth boulders. "You must not think I am such a +coward as that. But—the chilling atmosphere—the change—made me a +little faint."</p> + +<p>"Shall I run down to the boat for some wine for you? I know that Janet +has brought some claret."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not at all!" said she—and he saw with a great delight that her +color was returning. "I am quite well now. But I will rest for a minute, +if you are in no hurry, before scrambling down those stones again."</p> + +<p>He was in no hurry; on the contrary, he sat down beside her and took her +hand.</p> + +<p>"You know, Gerty," said he, "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."</p> + +<p>"I know you are very kind to me," said she, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"And now," said he, very gently, and even timidly, but his firm hand +held her languid one with something of a more nervous clasp, "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—and you know the rest—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."</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>"Well, you know, Keith," she said, with a great kindness in the clear +eyes, though they were cast down, "I think the secret between you and me +should be known to nobody at all but ourselves—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—I mean, a man has so many +distractions and occupations of shooting, and going away in your yacht +and all that—I fancy—I am a little <a name="Page_287" id="Page_287" />surprised—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—not quite pledged, you know, to such a serious thing—"</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—and he grasped both her hands in the sudden +vehemence of the moment—</p> + +<p>"Gerty, you are not drawing back! You do not despair of our being +husband and wife! What is it that you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Keith!" said she, quickly withdrawing one of her hands, "you +frighten me when you talk like that! You do not know what you are +doing—you have hurt my wrist!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope not!" said he. "Have I hurt your hand, Gerty?—and I would +cut off one of mine to save you a scratch! But you will tell me now that +you have no fears—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—that by and by she is coming to Dare—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—if I was +never to see a sea-bird again."</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—or break.</p> + +<p>"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?—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!'"</p> + +<p>Then she looked him frankly in the face, with those beautiful, clear, +sad eyes.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, do not say that," he said, quickly. "Do not think I am complaining +of you, Gerty. It is enough—it is enough—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—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—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—my own people."</p> + +<p>He was talking quite wildly. She had seen him in this mood once or twice +before, and she was afraid.</p> + +<p>"But you know, Keith," said she, gently, and with averted eyes, "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—"</p> + +<p>"And what is time?" said he, in the same glad and wild way—and now it +was his hand holding hers that was trembling. "It will all go by in a +moment—like a dream—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—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—perhaps you were useful to me once, and I bear you <a name="Page_289" id="Page_289" />no +ill-will: but—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?"</p> + +<p>"There is a drop of rain!" she exclaimed; and she suddenly sprang to her +feet. The skies were black overhead. "Oh, dear me!" she said, "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?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know," 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—where were they? Ulva +was visible, to be sure, and Colonsay—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>"Oh you lazy people!" Janet Macleod cried, cheerfully—she was not at +all frightened by the sudden storm. "I thought the wild beast had killed +you in the cave. And shall we have luncheon now, Keith, or go back at +once?"</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>"We will have luncheon as they pull us back," 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. "<i>Fhir a bhata</i>," 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>"Oh yes," he said, "oh yes, you are becoming a good sailor now, +Gertrude. You have no longer any fear of the water."</p> + +<p>"You will become like little Johnny Wickes, Miss White," the cousin +Janet said, "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."</p> + +<p>"Did you save him from being drowned?" she said, turning to him. "And +you did not tell me the story?"</p> + +<p>"It was no story," said he. "He fell into the water, and we picked him +up somehow;" 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—and as Janet happened to fall +behind for a moment, to speak to a herdboy who was by the +wayside—Macleod said to his companion,—</p> + +<p>"And have you no other word for me, Gertrude?"</p> + +<p>Then she said with a very gracious smile,</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—more lonely than ever it had been even during that long +winter that he had said was like a grave.</p> + +<p>And she?—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>"I suppose we must be thinking of getting away from Castle Dare, Gerty," +said he.</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_292" id="Page_292" />I shall not be sorry," she answered.</p> + +<p>But even Mr. White was somewhat taken aback by the cool promptitude of +this reply.</p> + +<p>"Well, you know your own business best," he said to her. "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—whether, in fact, you do mean, or do not mean, +to marry Macleod."</p> + +<p>"And who said that I proposed not to marry him?" said she; but she still +leaned over the rough stones and looked at the water. "The first thing +that would make me decline would be the driving me into a corner—the +continual goading, and reminding me of the duty I had to perform. There +has been just a little too much of that here"—and at this point she +raised herself so that she could regard her father when she wished—"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."</p> + +<p>She spoke with some little warmth. Mr. White smiled.</p> + +<p>"I was quite unaware, Gerty," said he, "that you were suffering this +fearful persecution."</p> + +<p>"You may laugh, but it is true," said she, and there was a trifle of +color in her cheeks. "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?"</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>"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—when I am taken +about—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—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—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."</p> + +<p>"Now, now, Gerty!" 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. "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."</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>"What has been the great event since ever we came here—the wildest +excitement the island can afford?" she said, "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—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>."</p> + +<p>"Well, there's no pleasing you, Gerty," said he.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to be pleased; I want to be let alone," 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>"Let me tell you this, madam," said he, in a playful manner, but with +some decision in his tone, "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—although I came here very much against my own +inclination—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—their +excessive and almost burdensome hospitality—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—to +dispossess her—very probably to make impossible a match that she had +set her heart on. And both she and her niece—you understand what I +mean—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—why, bless my soul, how long it is since you were +yourself talking about theatres as if the very word choked you?"</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_295" id="Page_295" />Well, at least, pappy, I never thought you would turn against me," +said she, as she put her head partly aside, and made a mouth as if she +were about to cry; "and when mamma made you promise to look after Carry +and me, I am sure she never thought—"</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>"Don't be a fool, Gerty!" said he, in downright anger. "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—if you think he has +not enough money, and you are not likely to have fine dinners and +entertainments for your friends—if you are determined to break off the +match—why, then do it! but, I tell you, don't try to humbug me!"</p> + +<p>Miss White's pathetic attitude suddenly vanished. She drew herself up +with much dignity and composure, and said,</p> + +<p>"At all events, sir, I have been taught my duty to you; and I think it +better not to answer you."</p> + +<p>With that she moved off toward the house; and Mr. White, taking to +whistling, began to do as she had been doing—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—the old lady of +Castle Dare seldom joined them—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>"I suppose Oscar is more at home here than in Bury Street, St. James's?" +said she, as the handsome collie went down the path before them.</p> + +<p>"No doubt," said he, absently: he was not thinking of any collie.</p> + +<p>"What beautiful weather we are having," said she, to this silent +companion. "It is always changing, but always beautiful. There is only +one other aspect I should like to see—the snow time."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_296" id="Page_296" />We have not much snow here," said he. "It seldom lies in the winter."</p> + +<p>This was a strange conversation for two engaged lovers it was not much +more interesting than their talk—how many ages ago?—at Charing Cross +station. But then, when she had said to him, "<i>Ought we to take +tickets?</i>" 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,—</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"And I do not suppose they troubled themselves much about fine sunsets," +said he. "That was not what they had to think about in those days."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not," said she, lightly; "but, you know, I had expected to find +a place from which I could gain some inspiration for tragedy—for I +should like to try, once for all—if I <i>should</i> have to give up the +stage—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."</p> + +<p>"We have no appliances here for the education of an actress—I am very +sorry," said he.</p> + +<p>"Now, Keith, that is hardly fair," said she, with a smile. "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?"</p> + +<p>"No, I do not think you did," said he.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, it is a great secret as yet; but there is no reason why you +should not hear of it."</p> + +<p>"I am not anxious to hear of it," said he, without any rudeness.</p> + +<p>"But it concerns me," she said, "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—there are three brothers of them, you +know—are like Michael Angelo and Leonardo—artists to the finger-tips, +in every direction—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—"</p> + +<p>"And you are still to act?" said he, quickly, though he spoke in a low +voice, so that those behind should not hear.</p> + +<p>"Surely I explained to you?" said she, in a pleasant manner. "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."</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>"Generous to you?" said he. "You know I would give you my life if that +would serve you. But this is worse than taking my life from me."</p> + +<p>"Keith, Keith!" said she, in gentle protest, "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—do you recollect that? By the way, has Major Stuart's +wife got a piano?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298" />He turned and stared at her for a second, in a bewildered way.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," said he, with a laugh, "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—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."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why you should talk to me like that, Keith," said she, +though she seemed somewhat frightened by this fierce gayety. "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—at Mrs. +Ross's."</p> + +<p>Instantly his memory flew back to that day—to the hushed little room +over the sunlit gardens—to the beautiful, gentle, sensitive girl who +seemed to have so strange an interest in the Highlands—to the wonderful +thrill that went through him when she began to sing with an exquisite +pathos, "A wee bird cam' to our ha' door," and to the prouder enthusiasm +that stirred him when she sang, "I'll to Lochiel, and Appin, and kneel +to them!" These were fine, and tender, and proud songs. There was no +gloom about them—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 "Death's black wine?"</p> + +<p>"I meant to tell you, Keith," said she, somewhat nervously, "that I had +signed an engagement to remain at the Piccadilly Theatre till Christmas +next. I knew you wouldn't mind—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," said she, +shyly, "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."</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>"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."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII" />CHAPTER XXXVII.</h2> + +<h3>AN UNDERSTANDING.</h3> + + +<p>"Pappy dear," said Miss White to her father, in a playful way, although +it was a serious sort of playfulness, "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."</p> + +<p>By this time she had quite made up that little difference with her +father—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>"I told him last night," said she, "of my having signed an engagement +till Christmas next."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed!" said her father, quickly; looking at her over his +spectacles.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said she, thoughtfully, "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."</p> + +<p>"What do you not understand?"</p> + +<p>"He has grown so strange of late—so sombre. Once, you know, he was the +lightest-hearted young man—enjoying every minute of his life, you +know—and really, pappy, I think—"</p> + +<p>And here Miss White stopped.</p> + +<p>"At all events," said she, quickly, "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—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—it was half understood that when we left Castle +Dare he was to come with us through at least a part of the Highlands."</p> + +<p>"There was a talk of it."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think," said Miss White, with some little hesitation, and +with her eyes cast down—"don't you think that would be a little +inconvenient?"</p> + +<p>"I should say that was for you to decide," he answered, somewhat coldly; +for it was too bad that she should be continually asking his advice and +then openly disregarding it.</p> + +<p>"I should think it would be a little uncomfortable," she said, demurely. +"I fancy he has taken that engagement till Christmas a little more to +heart than he chooses to reveal—that is natural—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?"</p> + +<p>"Are you so certain you will astonish the public?" her father said.</p> + +<p>"I have the courage to try," she answered, readily. "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—with all his kindness and gentleness, there is sometimes +about him a sort of intensity that I scarcely like—it makes me afraid +of him. If it were on the stage, I should say it was a splendid piece of +acting—of the suppressed vehement kind, you know; but really—during a +holiday-time, when one naturally wishes to enjoy the fine weather and +gather strength for one's work—well, I do think he ought not to come +with us, pappy."</p> + +<p>"Very well; you can hint as much without being rude."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking," said she, "of the Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin who were in +that Newcastle company, and who went to Aberdeen. Do you remember them, +pappy?"</p> + +<p>"The low comedian, you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Well, at all events they would be glad to see us. And so—don't +you think?—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."</p> + +<p>"The representation would scarcely be justifiable," observed Mr. White, +with a profound air, "in ordinary circumstances. But, as you say, it +would be neither for his comfort nor for yours that he should go with +us."</p> + +<p>"Comfort!" she exclaimed. "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—your life continually in danger either +on the sea or by the cliffs—your feelings supposed to be always up at +passion pitch—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—trotting about the country with a note-book in hand—"</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_302" id="Page_302" />Gerty, Gerty," said her father, with a smile, "your notions are +unformed on that subject. What have I told you often?—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—a penny-a-liner whose words are +written in fire. And you—don't you carry your note-book too?"</p> + +<p>"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—it +is inspiration—"</p> + +<p>"No doubt," the father said; "the inspiration of Botticelli."</p> + +<p>"Papa!"</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>"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?"</p> + +<p>"You mean to say he is only a copyist—a plagiarist!" she said, with +some indignation.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said he. "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—that is all."</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—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—far away off the point of Gometra—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—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>"The sky is becoming very dark," Mr. White said; "we had better go back, +Gerty."</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—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—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>"Tuesday, then, shall we say, pappy?" she remarked, just before +entering.</p> + +<p>"Very well."</p> + +<p>"And we are going to see some friends in Aberdeen."</p> + +<p>"Very well."</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>"Because, you know," said she, "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.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said he, "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—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—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?"</p> + +<p>"That is not a Highland but a Scotch way of answering my question," said +she, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I beg your pardon," said he, hastily; "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."</p> + +<p>"Now I will answer your question," said she. "I asked you because papa +and I propose to go there before returning to England." How quickly the +light fell from his face! "The fact is, we have some friends there."</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,—</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," said she, demurely. "I am sure you have been most +kind to us; but—the fact is—I think we must leave on Tuesday."</p> + +<p>"On Tuesday!" said he; but it was only for an instant that he winced. +Again he roused himself—for he was talking in the presence of his +mother and the cousin Janet—"You have not been quite fair to us," said +he cheerfully; "you have not given yourself time to make our +acquaintance. Are you determined to go away as you came—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!" said he, with a smile lighting up his +face—but it was a constrained gayety altogether. "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—"</p> + +<p>"Keith!" said Lady Macleod, with a frown. "How can you repeat that +nonsense! Miss White will think you are mad!"</p> + +<p>"It was only an old fancy, mother," said he, gently. "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."</p> + +<p>"It will be time for you to speak of such things thirty years hence," +said Lady Macleod.</p> + +<p>"Thirty years is a long time," said he; and then he added, lightly, "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—and capital—that is +Tobermory."</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—of hopeless anxiety and pain.</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to force you, Gerty—to persecute you," said he. "You are +our guest. But before you go away, cannot you give me one definite word +of promise and hope—only one word?"</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure you don't want to persecute me, Keith," said she, "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—"</p> + +<p>"To write!" he exclaimed. "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."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_307" id="Page_307" />Why, Keith, there is the shooting!"</p> + +<p>"I do not think I shall try the shooting this year—it is an anxiety—I +cannot have patience with it. I am coming to London, Gerty."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, Keith," said she, with an affectation of cheerful +content; "then there is no use in our taking a solemn good-by just +now—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—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—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."</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>"And what do you think of your own home now, Gerty?" said Miss Carry, +who had been making some small experiments in arrangement.</p> + +<p>"You mean, after my being among the savages?" said she. "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?"</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—now that she had +despatched that forbidding letter—she would be able to enjoy a quiet +and languor free from care.</p> + +<p>"Aha, Gerty, don't you know?" said the younger sister. "Well, I suppose, +you poor creature, you don't know—you have been among the tigers and +crocodiles so long. That cushion is a present from Mr. Lemuel to me—to +me, mind, not to you—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!"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean," said the elder sister, sharply.</p> + +<p>"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—I +never could imagine; but here is some one now whom people have heard +of—some one with fame like yourself—who will understand you. Oh Gerty, +hasn't he lovely eyes?"</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_309" id="Page_309" />Like a gazelle," said the other. "You know what Mr. —— said—that he +never met the appealing look of Mr. Lemuel's eyes without feeling in his +pockets for a biscuit."</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't say anything like that about you, Gerty," Carry said +reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Who wouldn't?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lemuel."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Carry, don't you understand that I am so glad to be allowed to talk +nonsense? I have been all strung up lately—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?"</p> + +<p>"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—you look like an inspired prophetess. I +never saw anything so lovely!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said Miss White, with a smile; but she was pleased.</p> + +<p>"When the public see that, they will know what you are really like, +Gerty—instead of buying your photograph in a shop from a collection of +ballet-dancers and circus women. That is where you ought to be—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—Fin-fin they call her. I suppose you have not been reading the +newspapers?"</p> + +<p>"Not much."</p> + +<p>"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—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."</p> + +<p>"Dear me!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, you don't half believe in yourself, Gerty," said the younger +sister, with a critical air. "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."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_310" id="Page_310" />Really, Carry, has papa been giving you a lecture about me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, laugh away? but you know it is true. And a woman like you—you were +going to throw yourself away on a—"</p> + +<p>"Carry! There are some things that are better not talked about," 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?—</p> + +<p>"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—to be true to your woman's heart—to take your life in your +own hands, and shape it so that it shall be worthy of you?"</p> + +<p>Well, she did speak in answer to this piteous prayer. She was a skilful +letter-writer:</p> + +<p>"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—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"> "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."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"'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—to be other than I am—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?"</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>"I do not know myself for two minutes together," she wrote. "What is my +present mood, for example? Why, one of absolute and ungovernable +hatred—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—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—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—that is myself. And at +all events I feel more contented that I have made a frank-confession."</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—a +calling on her not to fall away from the resolves she had made—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>"He says he is coming up to London, papa," said she, abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you mean Sir Keith Macleod," said he.</p> + +<p>"Well, of course. And can you imagine anything more <a name="Page_313" id="Page_313" />provoking—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!"</p> + +<p>"And why should that possibility keep you in terror?" said her father, +calmly.</p> + +<p>"Well, not in terror," said she, looking down, "but—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—just at the time I am +most worried and unsettled about everything I mean to do."</p> + +<p>Her father regarded her for a second or two.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said he.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that enough?" she said, with some indignation.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said he, coldly, "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?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know why you should speak to me like that, at all events," said +she.</p> + +<p>"Well, I will tell you," he responded, in the same cool, matter of fact +way. "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—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—at least, you say +so—"</p> + +<p>"I say so!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Hear me out," the father said, patiently. "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—anything you like. I say you could +make yourself believe anything. But I must point out to you that any +acquaintance of yours—an outsider—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—"</p> + +<p>"You need say no more," said she, with her face grown quickly red, and +with a certain proud impatience in her look.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, but I mean to say more," her father said, quietly, "unless you +wish to leave the room. I mean to say this—that when you have persuaded +yourself somehow that you would rather reconsider your promise to Sir +Keith Macleod—am I right?—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—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—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."</p> + +<p>"And what would you advise, then," said she, with equal calmness, +"supposing that you choose to throw all the blame on me."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Very simple!" she said, with a flavor of sarcasm in her tone. "Perhaps +you don't know that man as I know him."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_315" id="Page_315" />Then you <i>are</i> afraid of him?"</p> + +<p>She was silent.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Do you think I ought to tell him?" said she, slowly.</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</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>"Papa," said she, with her face somewhat paler than usual, "Sir Keith +Macleod is in London!"</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,—</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_316" id="Page_316" />Gerty, you do not think that I have come to be angry with you—not +that!"</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—after the +first shock of fright—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>"It is—so strange—for me to see you again," said he, almost in a +bewildered way. "The days have been very long without you—I had almost +forgotten what you were like. And now—and now—oh, Gerty, you are not +angry with me for troubling you?"</p> + +<p>She withdrew a step and sat down.</p> + +<p>"There is a chair," 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>"I know you must be greatly troubled and worried, Gerty; and—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—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—it is like a fire—Well, I did not come here to talk about +myself."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry you took so much trouble," she said, in a low voice—and +there was a nervous restraint in her manner. "You might have answered my +letter, instead."</p> + +<p>"Your letter!" he exclaimed. "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—as I see you +now—proud-spirited and noble—my beautiful Gerty—my wife!"</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>"Keith," said she, and she gently disengaged her hand, "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—and you know I don't wish to do that—"</p> + +<p>"I know," 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>"It is quite true that you and I are different," said she, with a +certain resolution in her tone, as if she was determined to get through +with a painful task—"very seriously different in everything—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—"</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—his eyes downcast—a tired and haggard +look on his face.</p> + +<p>"Well," she resumed, with a violent effort, "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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, Gerty," he answered, absently.</p> + +<p>"And then—and then—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'—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—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?"</p> + +<p>He gave a sign of assent; his silence was more embarrassing than any +protest or appeal.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I could choose such a wife for you, Keith!—a wife worthy of you—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—"</p> + +<p>He looked up in a bewildered way.</p> + +<p>"Gerty," he said, "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—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!—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—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—I do not hear any more of them. I only know that you are beside +me, Gerty; and I hold your hand!"</p> + +<p>He was no longer the imploring lover: there was a strange elation, a +sort of triumph, in his tone.</p> + +<p>"Why, Gerty, do you know why I have come to London? It is to carry you +off—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—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," said he, with a smile on his face, +"do you know what that is?"</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>"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?'—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?—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—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—'<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—did +I not say that to you, sweetheart? There are many fine houses in +Essex—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—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?'"</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>"Really, Keith," said she, in a low voice, "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—for +the present, at least? I asked for time to consider."</p> + +<p>"I know—I know," said he. "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!"</p> + +<p>"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—well, I think you should have +some little consideration for me—"</p> + +<p>He regarded her for a moment with a look almost of wonder; and then he +said, hastily,—</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you are right, Gerty; I should not have been so selfish. +But—but you cannot tell how I have suffered—all through the +night-time, thinking and thinking—and saying to myself that surely you +could not be going away from me—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—well, I had strange doubts and misgivings; and sometimes I +dreamed in the night-time that you were going away from me +altogether—on board a ship—and I called to you and you would not even +turn your head. Oh, Gerty, I can see you now as you were then—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."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you seem to think that my letters to you had no meaning +whatever," said she, almost petulantly. "Surely I tried to explain +clearly enough what our relative positions were?"</p> + +<p>"You had got back to the influence of the theatre, Gerty—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," said he, with a sad smile on his face, "I thought if I were +to go and get this paper, and suddenly show it to you—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."</p> + +<p>Then the strange smile went away from his face.</p> + +<p>"I am tiring you, Gerty," said he.</p> + +<p>"Well, you are very much excited, Keith," said she; "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!'—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."</p> + +<p>"Gerty," said he, slowly, "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."</p> + +<p>"You may call me selfish, if you like," said she, with some show of +temper, "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'—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."</p> + +<p>"Gerty!"</p> + +<p>"And if it comes to that," she continued, with a flush of angry daring +in her face, "perhaps I could bring a similar charge against you, with +some better show of reason."</p> + +<p>"That I was ever selfish or cruel as regards you!" said he, with a vague +wonder, as if he had not heard aright.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you, then," said she, "as you seem bent on recriminations? +Perhaps you thought I did not understand?—that I was too frightened to +understand? Oh, I knew very well!"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean!" said he, in absolute bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"What!—not the night we were caught in the storm in crossing to +Iona?—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."</p> + +<p>For a moment he stood looking at her, with something like fear in his +eyes—fear and horror, and a doubt as to whether this thing was +possible; and then came the hopeless cry of a breaking heart,—</p> + +<p>"Oh God, Gerty! I thought you loved me—and you believed <i>that!"</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. "Poor wretch—poor wretch!" he +says to himself. "Did they use to call you Macleod; and what is it that +has brought you to this?"</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 "<i>Fhir a +bhata</i>," 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!—it is <i>Righinn</i>—the Princess—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—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? +"<i>You are standing on the grave of Macleod.</i>"</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!—your hand—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—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—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—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—I saw them in many +dreams—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—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—this poor wretch—<a name="Page_325" id="Page_325" />what will they say of him? "Oh, he +died for the love of a woman!" 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?—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—even you—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—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, "Sweetheart, +sweetheart, if we were not to be together in life, we are now in death, +and that is enough for me."</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. "<i>Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and +is full of misery.</i>" 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?—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—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—<i>Rose-leaf</i>—<i>Rose-leaf</i>—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—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—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, "Oh make my bed soon; for +I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doon." Why do you turn so +pale, sweetheart? There is the whiteness of a white adder in your +cheeks; and your eyes—there is death in your eyes! "Donald!—Hamish! +help! help!—her foot is coming near to my grave!—my heart—!"</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—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>"Macleod!" Ogilvie cried—startled beyond measure by his appearance.</p> + +<p>"I—I wanted to shake hands with you, Ogilvie, before I am going," 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,—</p> + +<p>"Well, Macleod, I am not a sentimental chap—but—but—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—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—well, you know how women give hints—"</p> + +<p>"But I don't know what you mean, Ogilvie!" he cried, quite bewildered. +"Is it a thing for all the world to know? What story is it—when I knew +nothing till yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you know now: I saw by your face a minute ago that she had told +you the truth at last," Ogilvie said. "Macleod, don't blame me. When I +heard of her being about to be married, I did not believe the story—"</p> + +<p>Macleod sprang at him like a tiger, and caught his arm with the grip of +a vise.</p> + +<p>"Her getting married?—to whom?"</p> + +<p>"Why, don't you know?" Ogilvie said, with his eyes staring. "Oh yes, you +must know. I see you know! Why, the look in your face when you came into +this room—"</p> + +<p>"Who is the man, Ogilvie?"—and there was the sudden hate of ten +thousand devils in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Why, it is that artist fellow—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—she said they were always making out those stories +about act<a name="Page_328" id="Page_328" />resses—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—upon my soul, I +would have written to you—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—what was well known to everybody?"</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>"No," said he, slowly, "she has not told me all about it. Well, she did +tell me about a poor creature—a woman-man—a thing of affectation, with +his paint-box and his velvet coat, and his furniture. Ogilvie, have you +got any brandy?"</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>"And she could not deny the story to Mrs. Ross?" said he, with a strange +and hard smile on his face. "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?"</p> + +<p>He pushed the tumbler away; his hand was still trembling violently.</p> + +<p>"I will not touch that Ogilvie," said he, "for I have not much mastery +over myself. I am going away now—I am going back now to the +Highlands—oh! you do not know what I have become since I met that +woman—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—like a hare that is hunted. It would +not be good for her or for me that I should stay any longer in London."</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>"You are not going out in this condition, Macleod?—<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—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—seeing that you had met Miss White first at her house—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—and—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—without exception. But she's the sort of woman who, if I married +her, would want some looking after—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—'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—but not half a +tumblerful."</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>"I think I am going now," said he, in a low voice. "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—I want time to think over it. Good-by!"</p> + +<p>"The fact is, Macleod," Ogilvie stammered, as he regarded his friend's +face, "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?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, Ogilvie," said he. "And have you any message for the +mother and Janet?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope you will remember me most kindly to them. At least, I will +go to the station with you, Macleod."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Ogilvie; but I would rather go alone. Good-by, now."</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,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you remember my gun that has the shot barrel and the rifle +barrel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly."</p> + +<p>"And would you like to have that, Ogilvie?—we sometimes had it when we +were out together."</p> + +<p>"Do you think I would take your gun from you, Macleod?" said the other. +"And you will soon have plenty of use for it now."</p> + +<p>"Good-by, then, Ogilvie," 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—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,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, auntie, have you seen the look on our Keith's face, ever since he +came ashore to-day?"</p> + +<p>"I know it, Janet," said she. "I have seen it. That woman has broken his +heart; and he is the last of my six brave lads!"</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—those days of +sullen gloom, broken only by wild cravings for revenge that went through +his brain like spasms of fire—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—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. "Yes, yes," he +would say to himself—and sometimes he would laugh aloud in the solitude +of the hills, "she was prudent. She was a woman of the world, as Stuart +used to say. She would not quite throw me off—she would not be quite +frank with me—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—the woman-man, the +dabbler in paint-boxes, the critic of carpets and wall-papers!"</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—a fancy of the brain—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—but then—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—a +hateful thing—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>"<span class='smcap'>Dear Macleod</span>,—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;">"Yours sincerely, <span class='smcap'>Norman Ogilvie</span>."</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. "It is understood," continued the newsman, "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."</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>"Oh, Hamish!" he cried, quite gayly. "Hamish, will you go to the +wedding?"</p> + +<p>"What wedding, sir?" 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>"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!"</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>"<i>May her soul dwell in the lowermost hall of perdition!</i>"—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>"Oh, yes," continued the old man, in his native tongue, and he spoke +rapidly and passionately, "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?—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—that the woman is +not now living who will put that shame on Macleod of Dare!"</p> + +<p>Macleod regarded the old man's angry vehemence almost indifferently; he +had grown to pay little heed to anything around him.—</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, it is a fine thing for the English lady," said Hamish, with the +same proud fierceness, "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."</p> + +<p>"Laughing at you Hamish? I gave you an invitation to a wedding!"</p> + +<p>"And if I was going to that wedding," said Hamish, with a return of that +fierce light to the gray eyes, "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!'"</p> + +<p>"And what then?" 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>"And before she had brought that shame on the house of Dare," said +Hamish, excitedly, "do you not think that I would seize her—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—oh yes, when we had thrust +her down and put the hatch over, do you think the proud madam would be +quite so proud?"</p> + +<p>Macleod laughed a loud laugh.</p> + +<p>"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—just as Macdonald of +Armadale did when he came with his men to South Uist and carried off +Flora Macdonald's mother?"</p> + +<p>"And was there ever a better marriage than that—as I have heard many a +man of Skye say?" Hamish exclaimed, eagerly. "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."</p> + +<p>"Hamish, Hamish, how will you dare to go into the church at Salen next +Sunday?" Macleod said; but he was now regarding the old man with a +strange curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Men were made before churches were thought of," 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—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—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—at last—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,—</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I have thought enough about it," Hamish said, in his native tongue.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Is it the river Thames?" said Hamish, with great contempt. "And is that +all—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—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."</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—even when he was +staring absently at the table before him.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, Hamish," he said, laughing in a constrained manner, "that would +be a fine story to tell. And you would become very famous—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?"</p> + +<p>"It is my cousin who would show me the way: has he not been to London +more times than I have been to Stornoway?"</p> + +<p>"But the streets of London—they would cover all the ground between here +and Loch Scridain; and how would you carry the young lady through them?"</p> + +<p>"We would carry her," said Hamish, curtly.</p> + +<p>"With the bagpipes to drown her screams?"</p> + +<p>"I would drown her screams myself," said Hamish, with a sudden +savageness; and he added something that Macleod did not hear.</p> + +<p>"Do you know that I am a magistrate, Hamish?"</p> + +<p>"I know it, Sir Keith."</p> + +<p>"And when you come to me with this proposal, do you know what I should +do?"</p> + +<p>"I know what the old Macleods of Dare would have done," said Hamish, +proudly, "before they let this shame come on them. And you, Sir +Keith—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—and nothing now cared for, but a great trouble on your +face—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!'"</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, good-night-now, Hamish; I am tired," he said; and the old man +slowly left.</p> + +<p>He was tired—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—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—and she +far away, and dressed in bridal robes: what better way than to take her +hand and say, "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?" Or if it was only one wild, despairing effort—one last means of +trying—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—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. "The young and gifted +actress." She is "shortly to be married." And the new piece that all the +world will come to see, as soon as she is returned from her wedding +tour, is "of a tragic nature."</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—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—now—see! I have rescued you; and those people will persuade you no +longer: I have taken you away—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—Hamish will curse you no more—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—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!—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?—Hamish, +Hamish, we are on the rocks!—and there is no one to help her! Oh, +sweetheart! sweetheart!—</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?—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—only to breath for another moment—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—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—with +what a trembling hand he put down those words, <i>Dear Gertrude</i>, on +paper, and how wistfully he regarded them!—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>"<span class='smcap'>Dear Keith</span>,—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">"G."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hamish," said he, with a strange laugh, "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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, Sir Keith," Hamish said, with his eyes lighting up eagerly; "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?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course!" Macleod said. "If we are going away on a long voyage, +do we not want a good pilot?"</p> + +<p>"And we are going, Sir Keith?" the old man said; and there was a look of +proud triumph in the keen face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do not know yet," Macleod said, impatiently. "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."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir," 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 "Caution! caution!" or he would have broken into +some wild appeal to his sweetheart far away.</p> + +<p>"<span class='smcap'>Dear Gertrude</span>," he wrote, "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—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—not that alone, but everything else. +For I have been rather ill of late—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;">"<span class='smcap'>Keith Macleod</span>."</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,—</p> + +<p>"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,—he is quite another man—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!"</p> + +<p>The old lady's eyes had slowly filled with tears.</p> + +<p>"And do you think it is sleeplessness, Janet," said she, "that is the +matter with our Keith? Ah, but you know better than that, Janet."</p> + +<p>Janet Macleod's face grew suddenly red; but she said, hastily,—</p> + +<p>"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—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."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, Janet," the old lady said, and the tears were running down her +face, "but you know—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—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—I—I—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—instead of marrying you, Janet."</p> + +<p>"But you know that could never have been, auntie," said <a name="Page_345" id="Page_345" />the gentle-eyed +cousin, though there was some conscious flush of pride in her cheeks. "I +could never have married Keith."</p> + +<p>"But why, Janet?"</p> + +<p>"You have no right to ask me, auntie. But he and I—we did not care for +each other—I mean, we never could have been married. I hope you will +not speak about that any more, auntie."</p> + +<p>"And some day they will take me, too, away from Dare," said the old +dame, and the spinning-wheel was left unheeded; "and I cannot go into +the grave with my five brave lads—for where are they all now, +Janet?—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—about Keith, my Benjamin, my youngest, my +handsome lad?"</p> + +<p>The old woman was sobbing bitterly; and Janet went to her and put her +arms round her, and said,—</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But you do not know—you do not know," the old woman said, "what Keith +has done for me. The others—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—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?—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—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?"</p> + +<p>"<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?"</p> + +<p>"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—he is my youngest—he is +nearer to my heart than any of them: do you not see his face?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, auntie," Janet Macleod said, in a low voice; "but he will get over +that. He will come back to us strong and well."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, he will come back to us strong and well!" said the old lady, +almost wildly, and she rose, and her face was pale. "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."</p> + +<p>"Murdered, auntie!"</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,—</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I cannot go to-day, Keith," said his mother; and she left the room +before he had time to notice that she was strangely excited.</p> + +<p>"And I think I will go some other day, Keith," his cousin said, gently, +"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?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I forgot that, Janet," said he, laughing in a nervous way—"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?"</p> + +<p>"No, nothing, thank you, Keith," 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>"<span class='smcap'>Dear Keith</span>," Miss White wrote, "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;">"G.W."</p> + +<p>"P.S.—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."</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>"<span class='smcap'>Dear Gertrude</span>,—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;">"<span class='smcap'>Keith Macleod</span>."</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—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, "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."</p> + +<p>Suddenly Macleod stopped, and took out a pencil and wrote something on a +card.</p> + +<p>"I was sure I had forgotten something, Janet," said he. "<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."</p> + +<p>"Before Christmas!" Janet exclaimed; and she looked at him in amazement. +"But you are coming back before Christmas, Keith!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, Janet," said he carelessly, "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."</p> + +<p>"But you are not going away from us with thoughts like those in your +head, surely?" the cousin said. "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."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I will do that," 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—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—always subject +to the advice of his cousin from Greenock—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—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>"And where are we going, Hamish," says Colin Laing, in the Gaelic, "when +we leave this place?"</p> + +<p>"When you are told, then you will know," says Hamish.</p> + +<p>"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," says the cousin from Greenock.</p> + +<p>"And if I have a master, I obey my master without speaking," Hamish +answers.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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," Hamish answered, proudly. +"Well, I will tell you about my master, Colin—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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"And who would want to know anything about towns? Are they not full of +people who live by telling lies and cheating each other?"</p> + +<p>"And do you say that is how I have been able to buy my house at +Greenock," said Colin Laing, angrily, "with a garden, and a boathouse, +too?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know about that," 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—with gay companions around +him, and the band playing "A Highland Lad my Love was born," 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>"Oh no," he was saying now to his own conscience, "she will not call it +deceiving! She will laugh when it is all over—she will call it a +stratagem—she will say that a drowning man will catch at anything. And +this is the last effort—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?'"</p> + +<p>A loud rattling overhead startled him.</p> + +<p>"We must be at Erith," 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,—</p> + +<p>"Now, Hamish, you understand everything I have told you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, Sir Keith."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, Sir Keith; have you not told me before?" Hamish said, almost +reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"You are sure you got everything on board last night?"</p> + +<p>"There is nothing more that I can think of, Sir Keith."</p> + +<p>"Here is the letter, Hamish."</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>"And I will tell you this, Hamish," said the little black <a name="Page_353" id="Page_353" />Celt, who +swaggered a good deal in his walk, "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."</p> + +<p>"That is a foolish thing to say," answered Hamish, also speaking in the +Gaelic; "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!"</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>"Did I not tell you you would be frightened?" Colin Laing said.</p> + +<p>"I am not frightened at all," 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,—</p> + +<p>"Colin, Colin, she's run away?"</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>"Oh yes, Hamish," continued his travelled cousin, "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—"</p> + +<p>"Do you take me for a fool, Colin?" said Hamish, with a contemptuous +smile.</p> + +<p>"Not quite that," said the other, "but am I not to believe my own eyes?"</p> + +<p>"And if there were the great mountains of gold," said Hamish, "why did +you not fill your pockets with the gold? and would not that be better +than selling whiskey in Greenock?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and that shows what an ignorant man you are, Hamish," said the +other, with disdain. "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."</p> + +<p>"That is a lie, Colin!" said Hamish, with decision, "We have better +Gaelic there than any other Gaelic that is spoken."</p> + +<p>"Were you ever in Lochaber, Hamish?"</p> + +<p>"No, I was never in Lochaber."</p> + +<p>"Then do not pretend to give an opinion about the Gaelic—especially to +a man who has travelled all over the world, though perhaps he cannot +sail a yacht as well as you, Hamish."</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>"Ay, ay," said Hamish, "that is a strange thing."</p> + +<p>"What is a strange thing, Hamish?"</p> + +<p>"I was reading about it in a book many a time—the great fire that was +burning in London for years and years and years, and have they not quite +got it out yet, Colin?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know what you are talking about, Hamish," said the other, who +had not much book-learning, "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."</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—that seemed to have the population of all the world pouring +through its streets—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>"What do you want, my man?" some one said, coming out of the box-office +by chance. Hamish showed the letter.</p> + +<p>"I wass to hef an answer, sir if you please, sir, and I will be +opliged," said Hamish, who had been enjoined to be very courteous.</p> + +<p>"Take it round to the stage entrance," said the man, carelessly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, if you please, sir," 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>"You may wait here, then," said he to Hamish; "but I think rehearsal is +over, and Miss White has most likely gone home."</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>"Oh, Mr. Cartwright," said she, "do you think I could go down to Erith +and be back before six in the evening?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, why not?" 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—to shake hands in token of forgiveness—to say good-by for the +last time: what woman with the heart of a woman could resist this +despairing prayer?</p> + +<p>"Where is the man who brought this letter?" said she.</p> + +<p>"In front, miss," said the young lad, "by the box-office."</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. "Oh, Hamish," said she, "is Sir Keith so +very ill?"</p> + +<p>"Is it ill, mem?" said Hamish; and quick tears sprang to the old man's +eyes. "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?"</p> + +<p>"He wants me to go and see him; and I suppose I have no time to go home +first—"</p> + +<p>"Here is the list of the trains, mem," said Hamish, eagerly, producing a +certain card. "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."</p> + +<p>"Come along, then, Hamish," said she, quickly. "Oh, but he cannot be so +ill as that. And the long sea-voyage will pull him round, don't you +think?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, mem," 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>"<a name="Page_357" id="Page_357" />Tell him to go quickly," she said to Hamish, "for I must have +something instead of luncheon if we have a minute at the station."</p> + +<p>And Miss White, as the cab rolled away, felt pleased with herself. It +was a brave act.</p> + +<p>"It is the least I can do for the sake of my bonny Glenogie," she was +saying to herself, quite cheerfully. "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."</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—for it was not becoming in a rude sailor to be +seen speaking to so fine a lady—she would not allow that.</p> + +<p>"And where are you going, Hamish, when you leave the Thames?" she asked, +smoothing the fingers of the glove she had just put on again.</p> + +<p>"I do not know that, mem," said he.</p> + +<p>"I hope Sir Keith won't go to Torquay or any of those languid places. +You will go to the Mediterranean, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe that will be the place, mem," said Hamish.</p> + +<p>"Or the Isle of Wight, perhaps," said she, carelessly.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, mem—the Isle of Wight—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."</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>"Now, Hamish," said he, in the tongue in which they could both speak +freely enough, "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."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Colin?" said Hamish; but he would look out of the +window.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Then you are very clever, Colin," said Hamish, contemptously. "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—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—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."</p> + +<p>"Hamish, do not try to make a fool of me," said Laing angrily. "Do you +think a lady would go travelling without any luggage? And she does not +know where the <i>Umpire</i> is going!"</p> + +<p>"Do you know?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you think that? And do you speak like that to a man who can pay +eighty-five pounds a year of rent?"</p> + +<p>"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>'"</p> + +<p>"I shall be glad when I am back in Greenock," 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?—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>"Will the shock be great?" she was thinking to herself. "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."</p> + +<p>She turned to Hamish.</p> + +<p>"There is no one on the deck of the yacht, Hamish," said she.</p> + +<p>"No, mem," said he, "the men will be at the end of the pier, mem, in the +boat, if you please, mem."</p> + +<p>"Then you took it for granted I should come back with you?" said she, +with a pleasant smile.</p> + +<p>"I wass thinking you would come to see Sir Keith, mem," 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>—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—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>"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."</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>"—— her, we have her now!" he said, between his teeth; and he called +aloud: "Hold the jib to weather there! Off with the moorings, John +Cameron! —— her, we have her now!—and it is not yet that she has put +a shame on Macleod of Dare!"</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>"Gertrude," said he, "you are as safe here as ever you were in your +mother's arms. No one will harm you."</p> + +<p>"What is it? What do you mean?" 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>"I want to go ashore, Keith," said she hurriedly. "Put me on shore. I +will speak to you there."</p> + +<p>"You cannot go ashore," said he, calmly.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean," said she; and her heart began to beat +hurriedly. "I tell you I want to go ashore, Keith. I will speak to you +there."</p> + +<p>"You cannot go ashore, Gertrude," he repeated. "We have already left +Erith. * * * Gerty, Gerty," he continued, <a name="Page_361" id="Page_361" />for she was struck dumb with +a sudden terror, "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—"</p> + +<p>She was gradually recovering from her terror. She did understand it now. +And he was not ill at all.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you coward! you coward! you coward!" she exclaimed, with a blaze of +fury in her eyes. "And I was to confer a kindness on you—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?"</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>"Oh yes, you were proud of your name," she was saying, with bitter +emphasis; "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—like a +coward!"</p> + +<p>"And if I am what you say, Gerty," said he, quite gently, "it is the +love of you that has made me that. Oh, you do not know!"</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>"Of course—of course," she said. "It is the woman—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—you kept out of the way—"</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>"Gerty," said he, "I warn you! Do not mention that man to me—now or at +any time; or it will be bad for him and for you!"</p> + +<p>She twisted her hand from his grasp.</p> + +<p>"How dare you come near me!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," said he, with an instant return to his former grave +gentleness of manner. "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—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."</p> + +<p>She heard him out patiently. Her reply was a scornful, perhaps nervous, +laugh.</p> + +<p>"Why, this is mere folly," she exclaimed. "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?"</p> + +<p>"You are angry, Gerty," said he,</p> + +<p>But the first blaze of her wrath and indignation had passed away; and +now fear was coming uppermost.</p> + +<p>"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—now you have succeeded; and +you will let me go ashore, farther down the river."</p> + +<p>Her tone was altered. She had been watching his face.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, Gerty; oh no," he said. "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—as yet; but I can wait until I see yourself again, as you used to +be, in the garden—don't you remember, Gerty?"</p> + +<p>Her face was proud, cold, implacable.</p> + +<p>"Do I understand you aright: that you have shut me up in this yacht and +mean to take me away?"</p> + +<p>"Gerty, I have saved you from yourself!"</p> + +<p>"Will you be so kind as to tell me where we are going?"</p> + +<p>"Why not away back to the Highlands, Gerty?" said he, eagerly. "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?"</p> + +<p>She maintained her proud attitude, but she was trembling from head to +foot.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say that until I consent to be your wife I am not to be +allowed to leave this yacht?"</p> + +<p>"You will consent Gerty!"</p> + +<p>"Not if I were to be shut up here for a thousand years!" she exclaimed, +with another burst of passion. "Oh, you will pay for this dearly! I +thought it was madness—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?"</p> + +<p>"I do not care for any law," said he, simply. "I can only think of the +one thing in the world. If I have not your love, Gerty, what else can I +care about?"</p> + +<p>"My love!" she exclaimed. "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!"</p> + +<p>"You are angry, Gerty!" was all he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you do not know with whom you have to deal!" she continued, with +the same bitter emphasis. "You terrified me with stories of +butchery—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!"</p> + +<p>"I am going on deck now, Gerty," said he, in the same sad and gentle +way. "Shall I send Christina to you?"</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,—</p> + +<p>"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—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?"</p> + +<p>"And if I were to put you ashore now, you would go away, Gerty, and I +should never see you again—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—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—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."</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>"Ah, Gerty," said he, regarding her with a strange wistfulness in the +sad eyes, "you do not know what it is to me to see you again! I have +seen you many a time—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."</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>"You have not forgotten me, then, Christina?"</p> + +<p>"No, mem," said the grave Highland woman. She had beautiful, clear, +blue-gray eyes, but there was no pity in them.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you have no part in this mad freak?"</p> + +<p>The old woman seemed puzzled. She said, with a sort of serious +politeness,—</p> + +<p>"I do not know, mem. I have not the good English as Hamish."</p> + +<p>"But surely you know this," said Miss Gertrude White, with more +animation, "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?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Keith he is the master of the boat," said Christina. "Iss there +anything now that I can do for you, mem?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Miss White, boldly; "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."</p> + +<p>"I wass to ask you," said the old Highland woman "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?"</p> + +<p>"I tell you this, woman," said Miss White, with quick anger, "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!"</p> + +<p>"I do not think you can go ashore, mem," Christina said, somewhat +deliberately picking out her English phrases, "for the gig is up at the +davits now; and the dingy—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."</p> + +<p>"I can't get it into your head that you are talking nonsense!" said Miss +White, angrily. "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!"</p> + +<p>"I think that would be a ferry foolish thing, mem," 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—still with great apparent humility—"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."</p> + +<p>"I presume that is to be my prison?" said Miss White, haughtily, turning +to the smart little stateroom beyond the companion.</p> + +<p>"That iss your cabin, mem, if you please, mem," said Christina, who had +been instructed in English politeness by her husband.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I will say that to Sir Keith," 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—especially if the name of some +English town cropped up—and thus she got hints as to the whereabouts of +the <i>Umpire</i>.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, it is a fine big town that town of Gravesend, to be sure, +Hamish," said the one voice, "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."</p> + +<p>"And they know plenty about ferry much worse places," said Hamish, +proudly. "And wass you saying there will be anything so beautiful about +Greenock ass you will find at Tobbermorry?"</p> + +<p>"Tobermory!" said the other; "There are some trees at Tobermory—oh yes; +and the Mish-nish and the shops—"</p> + +<p>"Yess, and the waterfahl—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!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, Hamish; but it is glad I am that we are going back the way +we came."</p> + +<p>"And me, too, Colin."</p> + +<p>"And I will not be sorry when I am in Greenock once more."</p> + +<p>"But you will come with us first of all to Castle Dare, Colin," was the +reply. "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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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—alone; +shut up in this small room; about to venture forth on the open sea with +this ignorant crew—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>"I ask your pardon, mem," she heard Christina say.</p> + +<p>She sprang to the door and opened it, and caught the arm of the old +woman.</p> + +<p>"Christina, Christina!" she said, almost wildly, "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—he is an old man—if you had +a daughter—"</p> + +<p>Miss White was acting very well indeed; though she was more concerned +about herself than her father.</p> + +<p>"I wass to say to you," Christina explained with some difficulty, "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."</p> + +<p>"Then I suppose you don't understand the English language!" Miss White +exclaimed, angrily. "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."</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—if there is anything heroic in starvation. It was growing to +dusk when she again summoned the old Highland-woman.</p> + +<p>"Get me something to eat," said she; "I cannot die like a rat in a +hole."</p> + +<p>"Yes, mem," 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. "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."</p> + +<p>"I will not have it in the saloon; I will have it here."</p> + +<p>"Ferry well, mem," Christina said, submissively. "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?"</p> + +<p>"No; I want something to eat."</p> + +<p>"And Hamish, mem, he wass saying I will ask you whether you will hef the +claret-wine, or—or—the other wine, mem, that makes a noise—"</p> + +<p>"Bring me some water. But the whole of you will pay dearly for this!"</p> + +<p>"I ask your pardon, mem?" said Christina, with great respect.</p> + +<p>"Oh, go away, and get me something to eat!"</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—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 "<i>Fhir a bhata, na horo eile</i>." 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—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">"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!"<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">"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."<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>"Will we go on now, sir?" said he, in the Gaelic.</p> + +<p>"No."</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>"I am not sure that the breeze will last, Sir Keith."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure of anything, Hamish?" Macleod said, quite absently. "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."</p> + +<p>"<i>Dunara</i> is coming south to-night, Sir Keith," the old man said.</p> + +<p>"Why, Hamish, you seem to have lost all your courage as soon as you put +Colin Laing ashore."</p> + +<p>"Colin Laing! Is it Colin Laing!" exclaimed Hamish, indignantly. "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!"</p> + +<p>"And what if the <i>Dunara</i> is coming south? If she cannot see us, we can +see her."</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,—</p> + +<p>"You will not go to Castle Dare, Sir Keith?"</p> + +<p>Macleod started; he had forgotten that Hamish was there.</p> + +<p>"No. I have told you where I am going."</p> + +<p>"But there is not any good anchorage at that island <a name="Page_372" id="Page_372" />sir!" he protested. +"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."</p> + +<p>"Well, do you expect to see his ghost?" Macleod said. "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?"</p> + +<p>"And if you are not wishing to go up the Sound of Iona in the daylight, +Sir Keith," Hamish said, still clinging to the point, "we could bear a +little to the south, and go round the outside of Iona."</p> + +<p>"The Dubh-Artach men would recognize the <i>Umpire</i> at once," 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>"Where have we got to now, Christina?" said Miss White, quite +cheerfully, when the old woman entered.</p> + +<p>"<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."</p> + +<p>"The anchorage!" Miss White exclaimed eagerly. "Where? You are going to +Castle Dare, surely?"</p> + +<p>"No, mem, I think not," said Christina. "I think it is an island; but +you will not know the name of that island—there is no English for it at +all."</p> + +<p>"But where is it? Is it near Castle Dare?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, mem; it is a good way from Castle Dare; and it is out in the +sea. Do you know Gometra, mem?—wass you ever going out to Gometra?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course, I remember something about it anyway."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"What on earth is the use of going there?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know, mem."</p> + +<p>"Is Sir Keith going to keep me on board this boat forever?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know, mem."</p> + +<p>Christina had to leave the cabin just then; when she returned she said, +with some little hesitation,</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Do you think I would enter into any communication with him after his +treatment of me?" said Miss White, indignantly, "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."</p> + +<p>"I wass only saying, mem," Christina answered, with great respect, "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."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I know!" rejoined Miss White. "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."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_374" id="Page_374" />That I hef nothing to do with, mem," 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—perhaps +to outwit him by a show of forgiveness? Here they were approaching the +end of the voyage—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—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>"Ay, ay!" said Hamish, in sudden gladness, "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—well, it is a clear night whateffer; and +the <i>Dunara</i> she will hef up her lights."</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—a low booming as of distant thunder. And +that black thing away on their right—scarcely visible over the darkened +waves—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—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>"Gertrude!" said he, in wonder; but he did not approach her. He stood +before her, as one who was submissive.</p> + +<p>"So we have got to land at last," 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>"Oh yes, Gerty!" said he. "We have got to an anchorage."</p> + +<p>"I thought I would sit up for it," said she. "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?"</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>"And I want you to tell me what you mean to do with me," said she, +frankly and graciously: "I am at your mercy, Keith."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not that—not that," said he; and he added, sadly enough, "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?"</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, Gerty; I sent a message to your father."</p> + +<p>"Well, that was kind of you—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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>A quick look of surprise and gladness sprang to her face.</p> + +<p>"Papa—at Castle Dare!" she exclaimed. "And Christina says it is not far +from here."</p> + +<p>"Not many miles away."</p> + +<p>"Then, of course, they will know we are here in the morning!" she cried, +in the indiscretion of sudden joy. "And they will come out for me."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The light died away from her face; but she said, cheerfully enough,—</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gerty, Gerty, do not speak like that!" he exclaimed. "You are +breaking my heart! Is there none of the old love left? Is it all a +matter for jesting?"</p> + +<p>She saw she had been incautious.</p> + +<p>"Well," said she, gently, "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—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?"</p> + +<p>"And if we were as we used to be," said he, with a grave wistfulness in +his face, "do you not think I would gladly take you ashore, Gerty?"</p> + +<p>"And to Castle Dare?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, to Castle Dare! Would not my mother and Janet be glad to +welcome you!"</p> + +<p>"And papa may be there?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>At the mention of marriage she blanched somewhat; but she had nerved +herself to play this part.</p> + +<p>"Then, Keith," said she, gallantly, "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."</p> + +<p>"We were more than friends, Gerty," said he, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Let us be friends first, and then who knows what may not follow?" said +she, brightly. "You cannot expect me to be overprofuse in affection just +after being shut up like this?"</p> + +<p>"Gerty," said he, and he looked at her with those strangely tired eyes, +and there was a great gentleness in his voice, "do you know where you +are? You are close to the island that I told you of—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?—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."</p> + +<p>"But we can talk about all these things when I am on shore again," said +she, coldly. "You cannot expect me <a name="Page_379" id="Page_379" />to be very favorably disposed so +long as I am shut up here."</p> + +<p>"But then," he said, "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?"</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>"Am I to understand, then," said she, "that you mean to keep me a +prisoner here until I marry you?"</p> + +<p>"Why do you speak like that, Gerty?"</p> + +<p>"I demand an answer to my question."</p> + +<p>"I have risked everything to save you; can I let you go back?"</p> + +<p>A sudden flash of desperate anger—even of hatred—was in her eyes; her +fine piece of acting had been of no avail.</p> + +<p>"Well, let the farce end!" said she, with frowning eyebrows. "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—"</p> + +<p>"Gerty!"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Gerty!"</p> + +<p>The anguish of his face was growing wild with despair.</p> + +<p>"I say, let the farce end! I had pity for you—yes, I had! Now—I hate +you!"</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, "Good-night, Gerty! God forgive you!" 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—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>"Have I not told you to go below before? and will I have to throw you +down into the forecastle?"</p> + +<p>The old man stood irresolute for a moment. Then he said, also in his +native tongue,—</p> + +<p>"You should not speak like that to me, Sir Keith: I have known you many +a year."</p> + +<p>Macleod caught Hamish's hand.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Hamish. You do not know. It is a sore heart I have +this night."</p> + +<p>"Oh, God help us! Do I not know that!" 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>"<a name="Page_381" id="Page_381" />Go below now, Hamish," 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,—</p> + +<p>"Hamish, Hamish, are you awake now?"</p> + +<p>Instantly the old man appeared; he had not turned into his berth at all.</p> + +<p>"Hamish, Hamish, do you hear the sound?" Macleod said, in the same wild +way; "do you not hear the sound?"</p> + +<p>"What sound, Sir Keith?" 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>"Do you not hear it, Hamish? It is a sound as of a brass-band!—a +brass-band playing music—as if it was in a theatre. Can you not hear +it, Hamish?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, God help us! God help us!" Hamish cried.</p> + +<p>"You do not hear it, Hamish?" he said. "Ah, it is some mistake. I beg +your pardon for calling you, Hamish: now you will go below again."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, Sir Keith," said Hamish. "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?"</p> + +<p>"I wish you to go below, Hamish."</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">"King Death was a rare old fellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1"> He sat where no sun could shine;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And he lifted his hand so yellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1"> And poured out his coal-black wine!<br /></span> +<span>Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! for the coal-black wine!"<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?—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">"There came to him many a maiden,<br /></span> +<span class="i1"> Whose eyes had forgot to shine;<br /></span> +<span class="i10"> And widows with grief o'erladen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1"> For a draught of his sleepy wine.<br /></span> +<span>Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! for the coal-black wine!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It is such a fine thing to sleep—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">"All came to the rare old fellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1"> Who laughed till his eyes dropped brine,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"> As he gave them his hand so yellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1"> And pledged them, in Death's black wine!<br /></span> +<span>Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! for the coal-black wine!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Hamish!—Hamish!—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—the brass-band—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—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 "The brave lad! the brave lad!"</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>"Duncan," said Hamish, in a low whisper—for Macleod had gone below, and +they thought he might be asleep in the small, hushed stateroom, "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?"</p> + +<p>Duncan Cameron also spoke in his native tongue; and he said,—</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"There was a dream I had this morning," continued Hamish, in the same +low tones. "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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are becoming as bad as Sir Keith Macleod himself?" said the +other. "He does not sleep. He talks to himself. You will become like +that if you pay attention to foolish dreams, Hamish."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384" />Hamish's quick temper leaped up.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Duncan Cameron, by saying, 'as bad as Sir Keith +Macleod?' You—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—not any +one, Duncan Cameron!"</p> + +<p>"I did not mean anything like that, Hamish," said the other, humbly. +"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?"</p> + +<p>"It is your business to be a sailor on board this yacht; it is not your +business to say where she will go," 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>"If the equinoctials were to begin now," said Duncan Cameron, "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."</p> + +<p>Macleod appeared; the man was suddenly silent. Without a word to either +of them—and that was not his wont—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>"Hamish," said he, with a strange sort of laugh, "do you remember this +morning, before the light came? Do you remember that I asked you about a +brass-band that I heard playing?"</p> + +<p>Hamish looked at him, and said, with an earnest anxiety,</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"<a name="Page_385" id="Page_385" />I want you to tell me, Hamish," said he, in the same jesting way, +"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?"</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>"It is red, Sir Keith," said Hamish.</p> + +<p>"Ah! Am I in my senses this time? And what do you think of a red day, +Hamish? That is not a usual thing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sir Keith, it will be a wild night this night! And we cannot stay +here, with this bad anchorage!"</p> + +<p>"And where would you go, Hamish—in a dead calm?" Macleod asked, still +with a smile on the wan face.</p> + +<p>"Where would I go?" said the old man, excitedly. "I—I will take care of +the yacht. But you, Sir Keith; oh! you—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."</p> + +<p>Macleod burst out laughing, in an odd sort of fashion.</p> + +<p>"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—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!"</p> + +<p>"Sir Keith," said the old man, beginning to tremble, though he but half +understood the meaning of the scornful mirth, "I have had charge of you +since you were a young lad."</p> + +<p>"Very well!"</p> + +<p>"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!'"</p> + +<p>"<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?"</p> + +<p>"May their souls dwell in the downmost hall of perdition!" said Hamish, +with his cheeks becoming a gray-white; "and every woman that ever came +of the accursed race!"</p> + +<p>He looked at the old man for a second, and he gripped his hand.</p> + +<p>"Do not say that, Hamish—that is folly. But you have been my friend. My +mother will not forget you—it's not the way of a Macleod to +forget—whatever happens to me."</p> + +<p>"Sir Keith!" Hamish cried, "I do not know what you mean! But you will go +ashore before the night?"</p> + +<p>"Go ashore," Macleod answered, with a return to this wild, bantering +tone, "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!"</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>"Sweetheart," said he, "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?"</p> + +<p>"Do you wish to insult me?" said she; but there was no anger in her +voice: there was more of fear in her eyes as she regarded him.</p> + +<p>"You have no other message for me than the one you gave me last night, +Gerty?" said he, almost cheerfully. "It is all over, then? You would go +away from me forever? But we will drink a glass before we go!"</p> + +<p>He sprang forward, and caught both her hands in his with the grip of a +vice.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what you have done, Gerty?" said he, in a low voice. "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!"</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>"Is that the message I was to hear?" she said, coldly.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>He went on deck. He called Hamish.</p> + +<p>"Hamish," said he, in a grave, matter of fact way, "I don't like the +look of this evening. Did you say the sheiling was still on the island?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, Sir Keith," said Hamish, with great joy; for he thought his +advice was going to be taken, after all.</p> + +<p>"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."</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—and the English lady, too, if he desired her +company—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>"Will you go ashore now, Sir Keith?" the old man said.</p> + +<p>"Oh no; I am not going ashore yet, It is not yet time to run away, +Hamish."</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>"I beg your pardon, Sir Keith," said he, "but I am thinking we will have +an anchor-watch to-night."</p> + +<p>"You will have no anchor-watch to-night," Macleod answered, slowly, from +out of the darkness. "I will be all the anchor-watch you will need, +Hamish, until the morning."</p> + +<p>"You, sir!" Hamish cried. "I have been waiting to take you ashore: and +surely it is ashore that you are going!"</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>"Hamish," Macleod said, quickly, "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."</p> + +<p>"I will not!" Hamish cried. "Oh, Sir Keith, would you have me do that?"</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>"Hamish," said he, "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?"</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>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Into the gig with you!" Macleod cried, angrily. "Why, man, don't you +think I can keep anchor-watch?" But then he added, very gently, "Hamish, +shake hands with me now. You were my friend, and you must get ashore +before the sea rises."</p> + +<p>"I will stay in the dingy, then?" the old man entreated.</p> + +<p>"You will go ashore, Hamish; and this very instant, too. If the gale +begins, how will you get ashore. Good-by, Hamish—<i>good-night!</i>"</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—a low +murmuring noise, but full of secret life and thrill—it came along <a name="Page_390" id="Page_390" />like +the tread of a thousand armies—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—Ulva the green-shored—Ulva that the sailors, +in their love of her, call softly <i>Ool-a-va</i>—that is laughing aloud +with wild laughter on this awful night? And Colonsay, and Lunga, and +Fladda—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—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—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:—"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>"</p> + +<p>"By God," said Duncan Cameron, solemnly, "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—this night or any night that is to come."</p> + +<p>Then the old woman Christina shrieked aloud, and caught her husband by +the arm.</p> + +<p>"Hamish? Hamish! Are you going to drown yourself before my eyes?"</p> + +<p>He shook her hand away from him.</p> + +<p>"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!"</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—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—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>"<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—no more—no +more! Oh, the brave lad that he was!—and the good master! And who was +not proud of him—my handsome lad—and he the last of the Macleods of +Dare?"</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—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—Ulva the green-shored—the +<i>Ool-a-va</i> that the sailors love—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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MACLEOD OF DARE *** + +***** This file should be named 15587-h.htm or 15587-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/5/8/15587/ + +Produced by Robert Cicconetti, Patricia A Benoy and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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