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diff --git a/29752-h/29752-h.htm b/29752-h/29752-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..16a020c --- /dev/null +++ b/29752-h/29752-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8930 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of An Orkney Maid, by Amelia E. Barr.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; text-indent: 0; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + + .adbox p {text-align: center; margin: 0; padding: .5em .5em .5em 1em;} + .adbox p.section {border-top: solid 1px black;} + .caption {font-size: 90%; text-align:center; font-weight: bold;} + .center, .center p{text-align: center !important;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: 0.25em; text-decoration: none; background-color: #DDD; font-size: .9em;} + .larger {font-size: large;} + .muchlarger {font-size: x-large;} + .padtop {margin-top: 2em;} + .smaller {font-size: small;} + .trnote {background-color: #EEE; color: inherit; margin: 2em 5% 1em 5%; font-size: small; padding: 0.5em 1em 0.5em 1em; border: dotted 1px gray;} + blockquote {display: block; margin: .75em 5%; font-size: 90%;} + div.adbox {border: solid 1px black; text-align: center; margin: auto; width: 20em;} + h1,h2,h3 {text-align: center;} + img {border: 1px solid silver; padding: 0;} + ins {text-decoration: none; border: none;} + p.dropcap {padding-top: 1em;} + p.dropcap:first-letter{padding-top: .07em; float: left; margin-right: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em; width: auto;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em; clear: both;} + + .chsp {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center; width: auto;} + .figtag {height: 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .smcaplc {text-transform: lowercase; font-variant: small-caps;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + hr.fn {width:3em; text-align:left; margin-left: 0; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; height:1px; border: none; border-bottom: 1px solid black;} + hr.mini {width: 20%; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both; margin: 1em auto;} + hr.toprule {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + p.cg {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0; text-align: left; width: 101%;} + p.lalign {text-align: left !important;} + p.ralign {text-align: right !important;} + span.indent2 {margin: 0; padding:0; text-indent:0; width: 0.8em; display: block; float: left;} + span.indent4 {margin: 0; padding:0; text-indent:0; width: 1.6em; display: block; float: left;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + td.chalgn {text-align:right; margin-top:0; padding-right:1em;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's An Orkney Maid, by Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: An Orkney Maid + +Author: Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +Release Date: August 22, 2009 [EBook #29752] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ORKNEY MAID *** + + + + +Produced by Katherine Ward and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>AN ORKNEY MAID</h1> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='center padtop adbox'> +<p><span class="larger center">By AMELIA E. BARR</span></p> +<p class='lalign'>An Orkney Maid<br /> +Christine<br /> +Joan<br /> +Profit and Loss<br /> +Three Score and Ten<br /> +The Measure of a Man<br /> +The Winning of Lucia<br /> +Playing with Fire<br /> +All the Days of My Life</p> +<p class='section'><span class='smcap'>D. Appleton & Company</span><br /> +Publishers<br /> +New York</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/img1.jpg' alt='' title='' width='310' height='500' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“Ian was utterly charmed with the picture she made–––”<br /> +[<span class='smcap'>Page</span> <a href='#page_60'>60</a>]<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div class="center"> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='muchlarger'>AN ORKNEY MAID</p> +<p class='larger padtop center'>BY<br /> +AMELIA E. BARR</p> +<p>AUTHOR OF “CHRISTINE,” “JOAN,” “PROFIT AND LOSS,” ETC.</p> +<p class='padtop'><i>“The pleasant habit of existence, the sweet +fable of life.”</i></p> +<p class='padtop'>ILLUSTRATED</p> +<p class='padtop'>D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> +NEW YORK<br /> +LONDON<br /> +1918</p> +<p class='padtop'><span class='smcap'>Copyright, 1918, BY</span><br /> +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY</p> +<p class='smaller padtop'>Printed in the United States of America</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='center cg'><span class='smcaplc'>TO</span></p> +<p class='center cg'><span class='smcaplc'>MY DEAR FRIEND</span></p> +<p class='center cg'>DR. MARTIN BARR</p> +<p class='center cg'><span class='smcaplc'>OF</span></p> +<p class='center cg'><span class='smcaplc'>ELWYNN, PENNSYLVANIA,</span></p> +<p class='center cg'><span class='smcaplc'>I INSCRIBE THIS BOOK.</span></p> +<p class='ralign cg'><span class='smcap'>Amelia E. Barr.</span></p> +<p class='cg'><br /> +“<i>Honor and truth formed your will, <br /> +Your heart, fidelity.</i>”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='center larger'><i><b>MOTTO</b></i></p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>“You can glad your child, or grieve it,<br /> +You can help it, or deceive it,<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>When all is done,<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>Beneath God’s sun,<br /> +You can only love, and leave it.”</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'><p class="smaller">CHAPTER</p></td> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='right'><p class="smaller ralign">PAGE</p></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Introduction</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#INTRODUCTION'>1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The House of Ragnor</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_THE_HOUSE_OF_RAGNOR'>7</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Adam Vedder’s Trouble</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_ADAM_VEDDERS_TROUBLE'>30</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Aries the Ram</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_ARIES_THE_RAM'>47</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Sunna and Her Grandfather</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_SUNNA_AND_HER_GRANDFATHER'>72</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Sunna and Thora</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_SUNNA_AND_THORA'>98</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Old, Old Trouble</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_THE_OLD_OLD_TROUBLE'>129</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Call of War</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_THE_CALL_OF_WAR'>164</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Thora’s Problem</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_THORAS_PROBLEM'>193</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Bread of Bitterness</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_THE_BREAD_OF_BITTERNESS'>230</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>X.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The One Remains, the Many Change and Pass</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_THE_ONE_REMAINS_THE_MANY_CHANGE_AND_PASS'>271</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Sequences</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_SEQUENCES'>304</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span> +<a name='INTRODUCTION' id='INTRODUCTION'></a> +<h2>INTRODUCTION</h2> +</div> +<p class='dropcap'><span class="dcap">Yesterday</span> morning this thing happened +to me: I was reading the <i>New York Times</i> +and my eyes suddenly fell upon one word, and +that word rang a little bell in my memory, “Kirkwall!” +The next moment I had closed my eyes +in order to see backward more clearly, and slowly, +but surely, the old, old town––standing boldly +upon the very beach of the stormy North Sea––became +clear in my mental vision. There was a +whole fleet of fishing boats, and a few smart smuggling +craft rocking gently in its wonderful harbour––a +harbour so deep and safe, and so capacious +that it appeared capable of sheltering the +navies of the world.</p> +<p>I was then eighteen years old, I am now over +eighty-six; and the straits of Time have widened +and widened with every year, so that many things +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span> +appear to have been carried away into forgetfulness +by the stress and flow of full waters. But not +so! They are only lying in out-of-the-way corners +of consciousness, and can easily be recalled by +some word that has the potency of a spell over +them.</p> +<p>“Kirkwall!” I said softly, and then I began to +read what the <i>Times</i> had to say about Kirkwall. +The great point appeared to be that as a rendezvous +for ships it had been placed fifty miles within +the “made in Germany” danger zone, and was +therefore useless to the British men-of-war. And +I laughed inwardly a little, and began to consider +if Kirkwall had ever been long outside of some +danger zone or other.</p> +<p>All its myths and traditions are of the fighting +Picts and Scots, and when history began to notice +the existence of the Orkneys it was to chronicle +the struggle between Harold, King of Norway, +and his rebellious subjects who had fled to the +Orkneys to escape his tyrannical control. And of +the danger zones of every kind which followed––of +storm and battle and bloody death––does not +the Saga of Eglis give us a full account?</p> +<p>This fight for popular freedom was a failure. +King Harold conquered his rebellious subjects, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span> +incidentally took possession of the islands and the +people who had sheltered them. Then their rulers +became Norwegian jarls––or earls––and there is +no question about the danger zones into which the +Norwegian vikings carried the Orcadeans––quite +in accord with their own desire and liking, no +doubt. And the stirring story of these years––full +of delightful dangers to the men who adventured +them––may all be read today in the blood-stirring, +blood-curdling Norwegian Sagas.</p> +<p>In the middle of the fifteenth century, James +the Third, King of Scotland, married Margaret +of Denmark, and the Orcades were given to Scotland +as a security for her dowry. The dowry was +never paid, and after a lapse of a century and a +half Denmark resigned all her Orcadean rights to +Scotland. The later union of England and Scotland +finally settled their destiny.</p> +<p>But until the last century England cared very +little about the Orcades. Indeed Colonel Balfour, +writing of these islands in A. D. 1861, says: +“Orkney is a part of a British County, but probably +there is no part of Europe which so few +Englishmen visit.” Colonel Balfour, of Balfour +and Trenabie, possessed a noble estate on the little +isle of Shapinsay. He enthused the Orcadeans +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span> +with the modern spirit of improvement and progress; +he introduced a proper system of agriculture, +built mills of all kinds, got laws passed for reclaiming +waste lands, and was in every respect a +wise, generous, faithful father of his country. To +Americans Shapinsay has a peculiar interest. In a +little cottage there, called <i>Quholme</i>, the father and +mother of Washington Irving lived, and their son +Washington was born on board an American ship +on its passage from Kirkwall to New York.</p> +<p>However, it is only since A. D. 1830, one year +before I was born, that the old Norse life has +been changed in Orkney. Up to that date agriculture +could hardly be said to exist. The sheep +and cattle of all towns, or communities, grazed +together; but this plan, though it saved the labour +of herding, was at the cost of abandoning the +lambs to the eagles who circled over the flocks +and selected their victims at will. In the late +autumn all stock was brought to the “infield,” +which was then crowded with horses, cattle and +sheep. In A. D. 1830, the Norwegian system of +weights was changed to the standard weights and +measures, and money, instead of barter, began to +be used generally.</p> +<p>Then a great Scotch emigration set in, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span> +brought careful methods of farming with it; and +the Orcadean could not but notice results. The +Scotch trader came also, and the slipshod Norse +way of barter and bargaining had no chance with +the Scotch steady prices and ready money. But +even through all these domestic and civic changes +Orkney was constantly in zones of danger. In the +first half of the nineteenth century England was +at war with France and Spain and Russia, and +the Orcadeans have a fine inherited taste for a sea +fight. The Vikings did not rule them through centuries +for nothing: the Orcadean and his brother, +the Shetlander, salt the British Navy, and they +rather enjoy danger zones.</p> +<p>A single generation, with the help of steam communications, +changed Orkney entirely and in the +course of the second generation the Orcadean became +eager for improvements of all kinds, and +ready to forward them generously with the careful +hoardings of perhaps many generations. And +as it is in this transient period of the last century +that my hero and heroine lived, I have thought it +well to say something of antecedents that Americans +may well be excused for knowing nothing +about. Also––</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span></div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>... the past will always win<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>A glory from its being far;<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>And orb into the perfect star,<br /> +We saw not, when we walked therein.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>However, Orkney was far from being out of +danger zones in the nineteenth century. In its +first quarter French and Dutch privateers made +frequent raids on the islands; and the second quarter +gave her men their chance of danger in the +Crimea. They were not strangers in the Russian +Chersoneus; their fathers had been in southern +seas centuries before them. During the last fifty +years they have made danger zones of their own +free will, quarreling with coast guards, tampering +with smugglers, wandering off with would-be discoverers +of the North Pole, or with any other +doubtful and dangerous enterprise.</p> +<p>And these reflections made me quite comfortable +about the “made-in-Germany” danger zone. I +think the Orcadeans will rather enjoy it; and I am +quite sure if any Germans take to trafficking, or +buying or selling, in Kirkwall, they will get the +worst of it. In this direction it is rather pleasant +to remember that even Scotchmen, disputing about +money, will find the Orcadeans “too far north for +them.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_THE_HOUSE_OF_RAGNOR' id='CHAPTER_I_THE_HOUSE_OF_RAGNOR'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>THE HOUSE OF RAGNOR</h3> +</div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Kind were the voices I used to hear<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Round such a fireside,<br /> +Speaking the mother tongue old and dear;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Making the heart beat,<br /> +With endless tales of wonder and fear,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Or plaintive singing.<br /> +<br /> +Great were the marvellous stories told<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Of Ossian heroes,<br /> +Giants, and witches and young men bold<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Seeking adventures,<br /> +Winning Kings’ daughters, and guarded gold<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Only with valor.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p class='dropcap'><span class="dcap">The</span> House of Ragnor was a large and very +picturesque edifice. It was built of red and +white sandstone which Time had covered with a +heathery lichen, softening the whole into a shade +of greenish grey. Many minds and many hands +had fashioned it, for above its central door was +the date, 1688, which would presuppose that it had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +been built from revenues coming as a reward for +opposition to the Stuarts. It had been altered and +enlarged by nearly every occupant, was many-roomed, +and surrounded by a large garden, full of +such small fruits as could ripen in the short summers, +and of such flowers and shrubs as could live +through the long winters. In sheltered situations, +there were even hardy roses, and a royal plenty +of England’s spring flowers sweetened many +months of the year. A homely garden, where +berries and roses grew together and privet hedges +sheltered peas and lettuce, and tulips and wall-flowers +did not disdain the proximity of household +vegetables.</p> +<p>Doubtless the Ragnors had been jarls in old +Norwegian times, but in 1853 such memories +had been forgotten, and Conall Ragnor was quite +content with his reputation of being the largest +trader in Orkney, and a very wealthy man. Physically +he was of towering stature. His hair was +light brown, and rather curly; his eyes large and +bright blue, his face broad and rosy. He had +great bodily and mental vigor, he was blunt in +speech, careless about his dress, and simple in all +his ways. His Protestantism was of the most +decided character, but he was not a Presbyterian. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +Presbyterianism was a new thing on the face of +the earth; he had been “authoritatively told, the +Apostles were Episcopalians.”</p> +<p>“My soul has received no orders to go to thy +Presbyterian Church,” he said to the young Calvinist +minister who asked him to do so. “When +the order comes, then that may happen which has +never happened before.”</p> +<p>Yet in spite of his pronounced nationality, and +his Episcopal faith, he married Rahal Gordon +from the braes of Moray; a Highland Scotch +woman and a strict Calvinist. What compact had +been made between them no one knew, but it had +been sufficient to prevent all religious disputes +during a period of twenty-six years. If Rahal +Ragnor had any respectable excuse, she did not go +to the ritual service in the Cathedral. If she had +no such excuse, she went there with her husband +and family. Then doubtless her prayer was the +prayer of Naaman, that when “she bowed herself +in the House of Rimmon, the Lord would pardon +her for it.”</p> +<p>No one could deny her beauty, though it was +of the Highland Scotch type, and therefore a great +contrast to the Orcadean blonde. She was slender +and dark, with plentiful, glossy, black hair, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +soft brown eyes. Her face was oval and richly +coloured. Her temperament was frank and domestic; +yet she had a romantic side, and a full appreciation +of what she called “a proper man.”</p> +<p>They had had many children, but four were +dead, and three daughters were married and living +in Edinburgh and Lerwick, and two sons had +emigrated to Canada; while the youngest of all, +a boy of fifteen, was a midshipman on Her Majesty’s +man-of-war, <i>Vixen</i>, so that only one boy +and one girl were with their parents. These were +Boris, the eldest son, who was sailing his own ship +on business ventures to French and Dutch ports, +and Thora, the only unmarried daughter. And in +1853 these five persons lived happily enough together +in the Ragnor House, Kirkwall.</p> +<p>One day in the spring of 1853 Conall Ragnor +was at the rear door of his warehouse. The sea +was lippering against its foundation, and he +stood with his hand on his left hip, as with a +raised head and keen eyes, he searched the far +horizon.</p> +<p>In a few minutes he turned with a look of satisfaction. +“Well and good!” he thought. “Now +I will go home. I have the news I was watching +for.” Anon he looked at his watch and reflecting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +a moment assured himself that Boris and +the <i>Sea Gull</i> would be safely at anchor by five +o’clock.</p> +<p>So with an air of satisfaction he walked through +the warehouse, looking critically at the men cleaning +and packing feathers, or dried fish, or fresh +eggs. There was no sign of slacking in this department, +and he turned into the shop where men +were weighing groceries and measuring cloth. All +seemed well, and after a short delay in his own particular +office he went comfortably home.</p> +<p>Meanwhile his daughter Thora was talking of +him, and wondering what news he would bring +them, and Mistress Ragnor, in a very smart cap +and a gown of dark violet silk, was knitting by +the large window in the living room––a very comfortable +room carpeted with a good Kilmarnock +“three-ply” and curtained with red moreen. There +were a few sea pictures on the walls, and there was +a good fire of drift-wood and peat upon the snow-white +hearth.</p> +<p>Thora had just entered the room with a clean +table-cloth in her hands. Her mother gave her a +quick glance of admiration and then said:</p> +<p>“I thought thou wert looking for Boris home +tonight.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span></div> +<p>“Well, then, Mother, that is so. He said we +must give him a little dance tonight, and I have +asked the girls he likes best to come here. I +thought this was known to thee. To call my words +back now, will give great disappointment.”</p> +<p>“No need is there to call any word back. Because +of thy dress I feared there had been some +word of delay. If likelihood rule, Maren and +Helga Torrie will wear the best they have.”</p> +<p>“That is most certain, but I am not minded to +outdress the Torrie girls. Very hard it is for +them to get a pretty frock, and it will make them +happy to see themselves smarter than Thora +Ragnor.”</p> +<p>“Thou should think of thyself.”</p> +<p>“Well, I am generally uppermost in my own +mind. Also, in Edinburgh I was told that the +hostess must not outdress her guests.”</p> +<p>“Edinburgh and Kirkwall are not in the same +latitude. Keep mind of that. Step forward and +let me look at thee.”</p> +<p>So Thora stood up before her mother, and the +light from the window fell all over her, and she +was beautiful from head to feet. Tall and slender, +with a great quantity of soft brown hair very +loosely arranged on the crown of her head; a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +forehead broad and white; eyebrows, plentiful and +well arched; starlike blue eyes, with a large, earnest +gaze and an oval face tinted like a rose. Oh! +why try to describe a girl so lovely? It is like +pulling a rose to pieces. It is easier to say that +she was fleshly perfect and that, being yet in her +eighteenth year, she had all the bloom of opening +flowers, and all their softness and sweetness.</p> +<p>Apparently she owed little to her dress, and +yet it would have been difficult to choose anything +more befitting her, for though it was only of wine-coloured +cashmere, it was made with a plain picturesqueness +that rendered it most effective. The +short sleeves then worn gave to her white arms +the dark background that made them a fascination; +the high waist, cut open in front to a point, +was filled in with white satin, over which it was +laced together with a thin silk cord of the same +colour as the dress. A small lace collar completed +the toilet, and for the occasion, it was perfect; +anything added to it would have made it imperfect.</p> +<p>This was the girl who, standing before her +mother, asked for her approval. And Rahal Ragnor’s +eyes were filled with her beauty, and she +could only say:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></div> +<p>“Dear thing! There is no need to change! +Just as thou art pleases me!”</p> +<p>Then with a face full of love Thora stooped and +kissed her mother and anon began to set the table +for the expected guests. With sandalled feet and +smiling face, she walked about the room with the +composure of a goddess. There was no hesitation +concerning what she had to do; all had been +arranged and settled in her mind previously, +though now and then, the discussion of a point +appeared to be pleasant and satisfying. Thus she +thoughtfully said:</p> +<p>“Mother, there will be thyself and father and +Boris, that is three, and Sunna Vedder, and Helga +and Maren Torrie, that makes six, and Gath +Peterson, and Wolf Baikie and his sisters Sheila +and Maren make ten, and myself, eleven––that is +all and it is enough.”</p> +<p>“Why not make it twelve?”</p> +<p>“There is luck in odd numbers. I am the +eleventh. I like it.”</p> +<p>“Thou might have made it ten. There is one +girl on thy list it would be better without.”</p> +<p>“Art thou thinking of Sunna Vedder, Mother?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I am thinking of Sunna Vedder.”</p> +<p>“Well and good. But if Sunna is not here, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +Boris would feel as if there was no one present. +It is Sunna he wants to see. It is Sunna he wants +to please. He says he is so sorry for her.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“Because she has to live with old Vedder who +is nothing but a bookworm.”</p> +<p>“Vedder is a very clever man. The Bishop was +saying that.”</p> +<p>“Yes, in a way he was saying it, but–––”</p> +<p>“The Bishop was not liking the books he was +studying. He said they did men and women no +good. Thy father was telling me many things. +Yes, so it is! The Vedders are counted queer––they +are different from thee and me, and––the +Bishop.”</p> +<p>“And the Dominie?”</p> +<p>“That may well be. Thy father has a will for +Boris to marry Andrina Thorkel.”</p> +<p>“Boris will never marry Andrina. It would be +great bad luck if he did. Many speak ill of her. +She has a temper to please the devil. I was hearing +she would marry Scot Keppoch. That would +do; for then they would not spoil two houses.”</p> +<p>“Tell thy father thy thought, and he will give +thee thy answer;––but why talk of the Future and +the Maybe? The Now is the hour of the wise, so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +I will go upstairs and lay out some proper clothing +and do thou get thy father to dress himself, +as Conall Ragnor ought to do.”</p> +<p>“That may not be easy to manage.”</p> +<p>“Few things are beyond thy say-so.” Then she +lifted her work-bag and left the room.</p> +<p>During this conversation Conall Ragnor had +been slowly making his way home, after leaving +his warehouse when the work of the day was +done. Generally he liked his walk through the +town to his homestead, which was just outside the +town limits. It was often pleasant and flattering. +The women came to their doors to watch him, or +to speak to him, and their admiration and friendliness +was welcome. For many years he had been +used to it, but he had not in the least outgrown +the thrill of satisfaction it gave him. And often +he wondered if his wife noticed the good opinion +that the ladies of Kirkwall had for her husband.</p> +<p>“Of course she does,” he commented, “but a +great wonder it would be if my Rahal should speak +of it. In that hour she would be out of the commodity +of pride, or she would have forgotten herself +entirely.”</p> +<p>This day he had received many good-natured +greetings––Jenny Torrie had told him that the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +<i>Sea Gull</i> was just coming into harbour, and so +heavy with cargo that the sea was worrying at her +gunwale; then Mary Inkster––from the other side +of the street––added, “Both hands––seen and unseen––are +full, Captain, I’ll warrant that!”</p> +<p>“Don’t thee warrant beyond thy knowledge, +Mary,” answered Ragnor, with a laugh. “The +<i>Sea Gull</i> may have hands; she has no tongue.”</p> +<p>“All that touches the <i>Sea Gull</i> is a thing by itself,” +cried pretty Astar Graff, whose husband was +one of the <i>Sea Gull’s</i> crew.</p> +<p>“So, then, Astar, she takes her own at point and +edge. That is her way, and her right,” replied +Ragnor.</p> +<p>Thus up the narrow street, from one side or the +other, Conall Ragnor was greeted. Good wishes +and good advice, with now and then a careful innuendo, +were freely given and cheerfully taken; +and certainly the recipient of so much friendly notice +was well pleased with its freedom and good +will. He came into his own house with the smiling +amiability of a man who has had all the wrinkles +of the day’s business smoothed and soothed out of +him.</p> +<p>Looking round the room, he was rather glad his +wife was not there. She was generally cool about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +such attentions, and secretly offended by their familiarity. +For she was not only a reader and a +thinker, she was also a great observer, and she had +seen and considered the slow but sure coming of +that spirit of progress, which would break up their +isolation and, with it, the social privileges of her +class. However, she kept all her fears on this +subject in her heart. Not even to Thora would +she talk of them lest she might be an inciter of +thoughts that would raise up a class who would +degrade her own: “Few people can be trusted with +a dangerous thought, and who can tell where +spoken words go to.” And this idea, she knit, or +stitched, into every garment her fingers fashioned.</p> +<p>So, then, it was quite in keeping with her character +to pass by Conall’s little social enthusiasms +with a chilling indifference, and if any wonder or +complaint was made of this attitude, to reply:</p> +<p>“When men and women of thine own worth +and station bow down to thee, Conall, then thou +will find Rahal Ragnor among them; but I do not +mingle my words with those of the men and +women who sort goose feathers, and pack eggs and +gut fish for the salting. Thy wife, Conall, looks +up, and not down.”</p> +<p>Well, then, as Rahal knew that the safe return +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +of Boris with the <i>Sea Gull</i> would possibly be an occasion +for these friendly familiarities, she wisely +took herself out of the way of hearing anything +about it. And it is a great achievement when we +learn the limit of our power to please. Conall +Ragnor had not quite mastered the lesson in +twenty-six years. Very often, yet, he had a half-alive +hope that these small triumphs of his daily +life might at length awaken in his wife’s breast a +sympathetic pleasure. Today it was allied with +the return of Boris and his ship, and he thought +this event might atone for whatever was repugnant.</p> +<p>And yet, after all, when he saw no one but +Thora present, he had a sense of relief. He told +her all that had been said and done, and added such +incidents of Boris and the ship as he thought would +please her. She laughed and chatted with him, and +listened with unabated pleasure to the very end, +indeed, until he said: “Now, then, I must stop talking. +I dare say there are many things to look +after, for Boris told me he would be home for +dinner at six o’clock. Till that hour I will take a +little nap on the sofa.”</p> +<p>“But first, my Father, thou wilt go and dress. +Everything is ready for thee, and mother is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +dressed, and as for Thora, is she not pretty tonight?”</p> +<p>“Thou art the fairest of all women here, if I +know anything about beauty. Wolf Baikie will be +asking the first dance with thee.”</p> +<p>“That dance is thine. Mother has given thee +to me for that dance.”</p> +<p>“To me? That is very agreeable. I am proud +to be thy father.”</p> +<p>“Then go and dress thyself. I am particular +about my partners.”</p> +<p>“Dress! What is wrong with my dress?”</p> +<p>“Everything! Not an article in it is worthy +of thee and the occasion.”</p> +<p>“I tell thee, all is as it should be. I am not +minded to change it in any way.”</p> +<p>“Yes; to please Thora, thou wilt make some +changes. Do, my Father. I love thee so! I am +so proud of thy figure, and thou can show even +Wolf Baikie how he ought to dance.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, just for thee––I will wash and put +on fresh linen.”</p> +<p>“And comb thy beautiful hair. If thou but wet +it, then it curls so that any girl would envy thee. +And all the women would say that it was from +thee, Thora got her bright, brown, curly hair.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></div> +<p>“To comb my hair? That is but a trifle. I will +do it to please thee.”</p> +<p>“And thou wilt wet it, to make it curl?”</p> +<p>“That I will do also––to please thee.”</p> +<p>“Then, as we are to dance together, thou wilt +put on thy fine white socks, and thy Spanish leather +shoes––the pair that have the bright buckles on +the instep. Yes, thou wilt do me that great favour.”</p> +<p>“Thou art going too far; I will not do that.”</p> +<p>“Not for thy daughter Thora?” and she laid +her cheek against his cheek, and whispered with a +kiss, “Yes, thou wilt wear the buckled shoes for +Thora. They will look so pretty in the dance: +and Wolf Baikie cannot toss his head at thy boots, +as he did at Aunt Brodie’s Christmas dinner.”</p> +<p>“Did he do that thing?”</p> +<p>“I saw him, and I would not dance with him because +of it.”</p> +<p>“Thou did right. Thy Aunt Barbara–––”</p> +<p>“Is my aunt, and thy eldest sister. All she does +is square and upright; what she says, it were well +for the rest of the town to take heed to. It would +please Aunt if thou showed Wolf Baikie thou +had dancing shoes and also knew right well +how to step in them.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span></div> +<p>“Well, then, thou shalt have thy way. I will +wash, I will comb my hair, I will put on clean +linen and white socks and my buckled shoes. That +is all I will do! I will not change my suit––no, +I will not!”</p> +<p>“Father!”</p> +<p>“Well, then, what call for ‘Father’ now?”</p> +<p>“I want thee to wear thy kirk suit.”</p> +<p>“I will not! No, I will not! The flannel suit +is good enough for any man.”</p> +<p>“Yes, if it were clean and sweet, and had no fish +scales on it, and no fish smell in it. And even here––at +the very end of the world––thy friend, the +good Bishop, wears black broadcloth and all gentlemen +copy him. If Thora was thy sweetheart, +instead of thy own dear daughter, she would not +dance with thee in anything but thy best suit.”</p> +<p>“It seems to me, my own dear daughter, that +very common people wear kirk toggery. When I +go to the hotels in Edinburgh, or Aberdeen, or Inverness, +I find all the men who wait on other men +are in kirk clothes; and if I go to a theatre, the +men who wait on the crowd there wear kirk +clothes, and–––”</p> +<p>“Thy Bishop also wears black broadcloth.”</p> +<p>“That will be because of his piety and humility. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +I am not as pious and humble as I might be. No, +indeed! Not in everything can I humour thee, +and trouble myself; but this thing is what I will +do––I have a new suit of fine blue flannel; last +night I brought it home. At McVittie’s it was +made, and well it fits me. For thy sake I will +wear it. This is the end of our talk. No more +will I do.”</p> +<p>“Thou dear father! It is enough! With a +thousand kisses I thank thee.”</p> +<p>“Too many kisses! Too many kisses! Thou +shalt give me five when we finish our dance; one +for my curled hair, and one for my white, fresh +linen, and one for my socks, and one for my buckled +shoes, and the last for my new blue suit. And +in that bargain thou wilt get the best of me, so one +favour in return from thee I must have.”</p> +<p>“Dear Father, thy will is my will. What is thy +wish?”</p> +<p>“I want thy promise not to dance with Wolf +Baikie. Because of his sneer I am coaxed to dress +as I do not want to dress. Well, then, I will take +his place with thee, and every dance he asks from +thee is to be given to me.”</p> +<p>Without a moment’s hesitation Thora replied: +“That agreement does not trouble me. It will be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +to my great satisfaction. So, then, thou art no +nearer to getting the best of the bargain.”</p> +<p>“Thou art a clever, handsome little baggage. +But my promises I will keep, and it is well for me +to be about them. Time flies talking to thee,” +and he looked at his watch and said, “It is now +five minutes past five.”</p> +<p>“Then thou must make some haste. Dinner is +set for six o’clock.”</p> +<p>“Dost thou think I will fiddle-faddle about myself +like a woman?”</p> +<p>“But thou must wash–––”</p> +<p>“In the North Sea I wash me every morning. +Before thou hast opened thy eyes I have had my +bath and my swim in the salt water.”</p> +<p>“There is rain water in thy room; try it for +a change.” And he answered her with a roar of +laughter far beyond Thora’s power to imitate. +But with it ringing in her heart and ears she saw +him go to a spare room to keep his promises. +Then she hastened to her mother.</p> +<p>“Whatever is the matter with thy father, +Thora?”</p> +<p>“He has promised to wash and dress. I got all +I asked for.”</p> +<p>“Will he change his suit?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span></div> +<p>“He has a fine new suit. It was hid away in +Aunt’s room.”</p> +<p>“What made him do such a childish thing?”</p> +<p>“To please thee, it was done. It was to be a +surprise, I think.”</p> +<p>“I will go to him.”</p> +<p>“No, no, Mother! Let father have the pleasure +he planned. To thee he will come, as soon as +he is dressed.”</p> +<p>“Am I right? From top to toe?”</p> +<p>“From top to toe just as thou should be. The +white roses in thy cap look lovely with the violet +silk gown. Very pretty art thou, dear Mother.”</p> +<p>“I can still wear roses, but they are white roses +now. I used to wear pink, Thora.”</p> +<p>“Pink and crimson and yellow roses thou may +wear yet. Because white roses go best with violet +I put that colour in thy cap for tonight. Think +of what my aunt said when thou complained to her +of growing old, ‘Rahal, the mother of twelve sons +and daughters is always young.’ Now I will run +away, for my father does everything quickly.”</p> +<p>In about ten or fifteen minutes, Rahal Ragnor +heard him coming. Then she stood up and +watched the swift throwing open of the door, and +the entrance of her husband. With a cry of pleasure +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +she clapped her hands and said joyfully:</p> +<p>“Oh, Coll! Oh, my dear Coll!” and the next +moment Coll kissed her.</p> +<p>“Thou hast made thyself so handsome––just +to please me!”</p> +<p>“Yes, for thee! Who else is there? Do I +please thee now?”</p> +<p>“Always thou pleases me! But tonight, I have +fallen in love with thee over again!”</p> +<p>“And yet Thora wanted me to wear my kirk +suit,” and he walked to the glass and looked with +great satisfaction at himself. “I think this suit +is more becoming.”</p> +<p>“My dear Coll, thou art right. A good blue +flannel suit is a man’s natural garment. To everyone, +rich and poor, it is becoming. If thou always +dressed as thou art now dressed, I should never +have the heart or spirit to contradict thee. Thou +could have thy own way, year in and year out.”</p> +<p>“Is that the truth, my dear Rahal? Or is it a +compliment?”</p> +<p>“It is the very truth, dear one!”</p> +<p>“From this hour, then, I will dress to thy wish +and pleasure.”</p> +<p>She stepped quickly to his side and whispered: +“In that case, there will not be in all Scotland a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +more distinguished and proper man than Conall +Ragnor!”</p> +<p>And in a large degree Conall Ragnor was +worthy of all the fine things his wife said to him. +The new clothes fell gracefully over his grand +figure; he stepped out freely in the light easy shoes +he was wearing; there was not a single thing stiff +or tight or uncomfortable about him. Even his +shirt collar fell softly round his throat, and the +bright crimson necktie passed under it was unrestrained +by anything but a handsome pin, which +left his throat bare and gave the scarf permission +to hang as loosely as a sailor’s.</p> +<p>At length Rahal said, “I see that Boris and the +ship are safely home again.”</p> +<p>“Ship and cargo safe in port, and every man on +board well and hearty. On the stroke of six he +will be here. He said so, and Boris keeps his +word. I hear the sound of talking and laughing. +Let us go to meet them.”</p> +<p>They came in a merry company, Boris, with +Sunna Vedder on his arm leading them. They +came joyously; singing, laughing, chattering, making +all the noise that youth seems to think is essential +to pleasure. However, I shall not describe +this evening. A dinner-dance is pretty much alike +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +in all civilized and semi-civilized communities. It +will really be more descriptive to indicate a few +aspects in which this function of amusement differed +from one of the same kind given last night +in a fashionable home or hotel in New York.</p> +<p>First, the guests came all together from some +agreed-upon rendezvous. They walked, for private +carriages were very rare and there were none +for hire. However, this walking party was generally +a very pleasant introduction to a more pleasant +and intimate evening. The women were wrapped +up in their red or blue cloaks, and the men carried +their dancing slippers, fans, bouquets, and +other small necessities of the ballroom.</p> +<p>Second, the old and the young had an equal +share in any entertainment, and if there was a difference, +it was in favour of the old. On this very +night Conall Ragnor danced in every figure called, +except a saraband, which he said was too slow and +formal to be worth calling a dance. Even old +Adam Vedder who had come on his own invitation––but +welcome all the same––went through the +Orkney Quickstep with the two prettiest girls present, +Thora Ragnor and Maren Torrie. For honourable +age was much respected and every young +person wished to share his happiness with it.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span></div> +<p>A very marked characteristic was the evident +pleasure old and young had in the gratification of +their sense of taste, in the purely animal pleasure +of eating good things. No one had a bad appetite, +and if anyone wished for more of a dish they +liked, they asked for it. Indeed they had an easy +consciousness of paying their hostess a compliment, +and of giving themselves a little more pleasure.</p> +<p>Finally, they made the day, day; and the night, +night. Such gatherings broke up about eleven +o’clock; then the girls went home unwearied, to +sleep, and morning found them rosy and happy, +already wondering who would give them the next +dance.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_ADAM_VEDDERS_TROUBLE' id='CHAPTER_II_ADAM_VEDDERS_TROUBLE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>ADAM VEDDER’S TROUBLE</h3> +</div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>... they do not trust their tongues alone<br /> +But speak a language of their own;<br /> +Convey a libel in a frown,<br /> +And wink a reputation down;<br /> +Or by the tossing of a fan,<br /> +Describe the lady and the man.––<span class='smcap'>Swift</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>It is good to be merry and wise,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>It is good to be honest and true,<br /> +It is well to be off with the old love<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Before you are on with the new.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p class='dropcap'><span class="dcap">Boris</span> did not remain long in the home port. +It was drawing near to Lent, and this was a +sacred term very highly regarded by the citizens +of this ancient cathedral town. Of course in the +Great Disruption the National Episcopal Church +had suffered heavy loss, but Lent was a circumstance +of the Soul, so near and dear to its memory, +that even those disloyal to their Mother Church +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +could not forget or ignore it. In some cases it was +secretly more faithfully observed than ever before; +then its penitential prayers became intensely pathetic +in their loneliness. For these self-bereft +souls could not help remembering the days when +they went up with the multitude to keep the Holy +Fast in the House of their God.</p> +<p>Rahal Ragnor had never kept it. It had been +only a remnant of popery to her. Long before the +Free Kirk had been born, she and all her family +had been Dissenters of some kind or other. And +yet her life and her home were affected by this +Episcopal “In Memoriam” in a great number of +small, dominating ways, so that in the course of +years she had learned to respect a ceremonial that +she did not endorse. For she knew that no one +kept Lent with a truer heart than Conall Ragnor, +and that the Lenten services in the cathedral interfered +with his business to an extent nothing +purely temporal would have been permitted to do.</p> +<p>So, after the little dance given to Boris, there +was a period of marked quietness in Kirkwall. It +was as if some mighty Hand had been laid across +the strings of Life and softened and subdued all +their reverberations. There was no special human +influence exerted for this purpose, yet no one could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +deny the presence of some unseen, unusual element.</p> +<p>“Every day seems like Sabbath Day,” said +Thora.</p> +<p>“It is Lent,” answered Rahal.</p> +<p>“And after Lent comes Easter, dear Mother.”</p> +<p>“That is the truth.”</p> +<p>In the meantime Boris had gone to Edinburgh +on the bark <i>Sea Gull</i> to complete his cargo of +Scotch ginghams and sewed muslins, native jewelry +and table delicacies. Perhaps, indeed, the minimum +notice accorded Lent in the metropolitan city +had something to do with this journey, which was +not a usual one; but after the departure of the +<i>Sea Gull</i> the Ragnor household had settled down +to a period of domestic quiet. The Master had +to make up the hours spent in the cathedral by a +longer stay in the store, and the women at this +time generally avoided visiting; they felt––though +they did not speak of it––the old prohibition of +unkind speech, and the theological quarrel was yet +so new and raw that to touch it was to provoke +controversy, instead of conversation.</p> +<p>It was at such vacant times that old Adam Vedder’s +visits were doubly welcome. One day in +mid-Lent he came to the Ragnor house, when it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +was raining with that steady deliberation that gives +no hope of anything better. Throwing off his +waterproof outer garments, he left them to drip +dry in the kitchen. An old woman, watching him, +observed:</p> +<p>“Thou art wetting the clean floor, Master Vedder,” +and he briskly answered: “That is thy business, +Helga, not mine. Is thy mistress in the +house?”</p> +<p>“Would she be out, if she had any good sense +left?”</p> +<p>“How can a man tell what a woman will do? +Where is thy mistress?” and he spoke in a tone so +imperative, that she answered with shrinking humility:</p> +<p>“I ask thy favour. Mistress Ragnor is in the +right-hand parlour. I will look after thy cloak.”</p> +<p>“It will be well for thee to do that.”</p> +<p>Then Adam went to the right-hand parlour and +found Rahal sitting by the fire sewing.</p> +<p>“I am glad to see thee, Rahal,” he said.</p> +<p>“I am glad to see thee always––more at this +time than at any other.”</p> +<p>“Well, that is good, but why at this time more +than at any other?”</p> +<p>“The town is depressed; business goes on, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +in a silent fashion. There is no social pleasure––surely +the reason is known to thee!”</p> +<p>“So it is, and the reason is good. When people +are confessing their sins, and asking pardon for +the same, they cannot feel it to be a cheerful entertainment; +and, as thou observed, it affects even +their business, which I myself notice is done without +the usual joking or quarrelling or drinking of +good healths. Well, then, that also is right. +Where is Thora?”</p> +<p>“She is going to a lecture this afternoon to be +given by the Archdeacon Spens to the young girls, +and she is preparing for it.” And as these words +were uttered, Thora entered the room. She was +dressed for the storm outside, and wore the hood +of her cloak drawn well over her hair; in her hands +were a pair of her father’s slippers.</p> +<p>“For thee I brought them,” she said, as she +held them out to Vedder. “I heard thy voice, and +I was sure thy feet would be wet. See, then, I +have brought thee my father’s slippers. He would +like thee to wear them––so would I.”</p> +<p>“I will not wear them, Thora. I will not stand +in any man’s shoes but my own. It is an unchancy, +unlucky thing to do. Thanks be to thee, but I will +keep my own standing, wet or dry. Look to that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +rule for thyself, and remember what I say. Let +me see if thou art well shod.”</p> +<p>Thora laughed, stood straight up, and drew her +dress taut, and put forward two small feet, trigly +protected by high-laced boots. Then, looking at +her mother, she asked: “Are the boots sufficient, +or shall I wear over them my French clogs?”</p> +<p>Vedder answered her question. “The clogs are +not necessary,” he said. “The rain runs off as +fast as it falls. Thy boots are all such trifling feet +can carry. What can women do on this hard +world-road with such impediments as French clogs +over English boots?”</p> +<p>“Mr. Vedder, they will do whatever they want +to do; and they will go wherever they want to go; +and they will walk in their own shoes, and work +in their own shoes, and be well satisfied with +them.”</p> +<p>“Thora, I am sorry I was born in the last century. +If I had waited for about fifty years I would +have been in proper time to marry thee.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps.”</p> +<p>“Yes; for I would not have let a woman so fair +and good as thou art go out of my family. We +should have been man and wife. That would certainly +have happened.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span></div> +<p>“If two had been willing, it might have been. +Now our talk must end; the Archdeacon likes not +a late comer;” and with this remark, and a beaming +smile, she went away.</p> +<p>Then there was a silence, full of words longing +to be spoken; but Rahal Ragnor was a prudent +woman, and she sighed and sewed and left Vedder +to open the conversation. He looked at her +a little impatiently for a few moments, then he +asked:</p> +<p>“To what port has thy son Boris sailed?”</p> +<p>“Boris intends to go to Leith, if wind and water +let him do so.”</p> +<p>“Boris is not asking wind and water about his +affairs. There is a question I know not how to +answer. I am wanting thy help.”</p> +<p>“If that be so, speak thy mind to me.”</p> +<p>“I want a few words of advice about a woman.”</p> +<p>“Is that woman thy granddaughter, Sunna?”</p> +<p>“A right guess thou hast made.”</p> +<p>“Then I would rather not speak of her.”</p> +<p>“Thy reason? What is it?”</p> +<p>“She is too clever for a simple woman like me. +I have not two faces. I cannot make the same +words mean two distinct and separate things. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +Sunna has all thy self-wisdom, but she has not thy +true heart and thy wise tongue.”</p> +<p>“Listen to me! Things have come to this––Boris +has made love to Sunna in the face of all +Kirkwall. He has done this for more than a +year. Then for two weeks before he left for +Leith he came not near my house, and if he met +Sunna in any friend’s house he was no longer her +lover. What is the meaning of this? My girl is +unhappy and angry, and I myself am far from being +satisfied; thou tell, what is wrong between +them?”</p> +<p>“I would prefer neither to help nor hinder thee +in this matter. There is a broad way between +these two ways, that I am minded to take. It will +be better for me to do so, and perhaps better for +thee also.”</p> +<p>“I thought I could count on thee for my friend. +Bare is a man’s back without friends behind it! +In thee I trusted. While I feared and doubted, I +thought, ‘If worse comes I will go at once to Rahal +Ragnor’––<i>Thou hast failed me</i>.”</p> +<p>“Say not that––my old, dear friend! It is beyond +truth. What I know I told to my husband; +and I asked him if it would be kind and well to +tell thee, and he said to me: ‘Be not a bearer of ill +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +news to Vedder. Little can thou trust any evil +report; few people are spoken of better than they +deserve.’ Then I gave counsel to myself, thus: +Conall has four dear daughters, <i>he knows</i>. Conall +loves his old friend Vedder; if he thought to interfere +was right, he would advise Vedder to interfere +or he would interfere for him, and my +wish was to spare thee the sorrow that comes from +women’s tongues. I was also sure that if the +news was true, it would find thee out––if not true, +why should Rahal Ragnor sow seeds of suspicion +and ill-will? Is Sunna disobedient to thee?”</p> +<p>“She is something worse––she deceives me. +Her name is mixed up with some report––I know +not what. No one loves me well enough to tell +me what is wrong.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, thou art more feared than loved. +Few know thee well enough to risk thy anger and +all know that Norsemen are bitter cruel to those +who dare to say that one hair of their women is +out of its place. Who, then, would dare to say +this or that about thy granddaughter?”</p> +<p>“Rahal Ragnor could speak safely to me.”</p> +<p>Then there was silence for a few moments and +Rahal sat with her doubled-up left hand against +her lips, gazing out of the window. Vedder did +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +not disturb her. He waited patiently until she +said:</p> +<p>“If I tell thee what was told me, wilt thou visit +the story upon my husband, or myself, or any of +my children?”</p> +<p>Vedder took a signet ring from his finger and +kissed it. “Rahal,” he said, “I have kissed this +ring of my fathers to seal the promise I shall make +thee. If thou wilt give me thy confidence in this +matter of Sunna Vedder, it shall be for thy good, +and for the good of thy husband, and for the good +of all thy children, as far as Adam Vedder can +make it so.”</p> +<p>“I ask a special promise for my son Boris, for +he is concerned in this matter.”</p> +<p>“Boris can take good care of Boris: nevertheless, +I promise thee that I will not say or look or +do, with hands or tongue, anything that will injure, +or even annoy, Boris Ragnor. Unto the end of +my life, I promise this. What may come after, I +know not. If there should be a wrong done, we +will fight it out elsewhere.”</p> +<p>“Thy words are sufficient. Listen, then! +There is a family, in the newest and best part of +the town, called McLeod. They are yet strange +here. They are Highland Scotch. Many say +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +they are Roman Catholics. They sing Jacobite +songs, and they go not to any church. They have +opened a great trading route; and they have +brought many new customs and new ideas with +them. A certain class of our people make much +of them; others are barely civil to them; the best +of our citizens do not notice them at all. But +they have plenty of money, and live extravagantly, +and the garrison’s officers are constantly seen +there. Do you know them?”</p> +<p>“I have heard of them.”</p> +<p>“McLeod has a large trading fleet, and he has +interfered with the business of Boris in many +ways.”</p> +<p>“Hast thou ever seen him? Tell me what he is +like.”</p> +<p>“I have seen him many times. He is a complete +Highlander; tall, broad-shouldered and apparently +very strong, also very graceful. He has high +cheekbones, and a red beard, but all talk about +him, and many think him altogether handsome.”</p> +<p>“And thou? What dost thou think?”</p> +<p>“When I saw him, he was in earnest discussion +with one of his men, and he was not using English +but sputtering a torrent of shrill Gaelic, shrugging +his shoulders, throwing his arms about, thrilling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +with excitement––but for all that, he was the +picture of a man that most women would find irresistible.”</p> +<p>“I have heard that he wears the Highland +dress.”</p> +<p>“Not on the street. They have many entertainments; +he may wear it in some of them; but I +think he is too wise to wear it in public. The +Norseman is much indebted to the Scot––but it +would not do to flaunt the feathered cap and philabeg +too much––on Kirkwall streets.”</p> +<p>“You ought to know.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I am Highland Scotch, thank God! I +understand this man, though I have never spoken +to him. I know little about the Lowland Scot. He +is a different race, and is quite a different man. +You would not like him, Adam.”</p> +<p>“I know him. He is a fine fellow; quiet, cool-blooded, +has little to say, and wastes no strength +in emotion. There’s wisdom for you––but go on +with thy talk, woman; it hurts me, but I must hear +it to the end.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, Kenneth McLeod has the appearance +of a gentleman, though he is only a trader.”</p> +<p>“Say <i>smuggler</i>, Rahal, and you might call him +by a truer name.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></div> +<p>“Many whisper the same word. Of a smuggler, +a large proportion of our people think no +wrong. That you know. He is a kind of hero to +some girls. Many grand parties these McLeods +give––music and dancing, and eating and drinking, +and the young officers of the garrison are there, as +well as our own gay young men; and where these +temptations are, young women are sure to go. +His aunt is mistress of his house.</p> +<p>“Now, then, this thing happened when Boris +was last here. One night he heard two men talking +as they went down the street before him. The +rain was pattering on the flagged walk and he +did not well understand their conversation, but it +was altogether of the McLeods and their entertainments. +Suddenly he heard the name of Sunna +Vedder. Thrice he heard it, and he followed the +men to the public house, called for whiskey, sat +down at a table near them and pretended to be +writing. But he grew more and more angry as +he heard the free and easy talk of the men; and +when again they named Sunna, he put himself into +their conversation and so learned they were going +to McLeod’s as soon as the hour was struck for +the dance. Boris permitted them to go, laughing +and boastful; an hour afterwards he followed.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></div> +<p>“With whom did he go?”</p> +<p>“Alone he went. The dance was then in progress, +and men and women were constantly going +in and out. He followed a party of four, and +went in with them. There was a crowd on the +waxed floor. They were dancing a new measure +called the polka; and conspicuous, both for her +beauty and her dress, he saw Sunna among them. +Her partner was Kenneth McLeod, and he was in +full McLeod tartans. No doubt have I that +Sunna and her handsome partner made a romantic +and lovely picture.”</p> +<p>“What must be the end of all this? What the +devil am I to think?”</p> +<p>“Think no worse than needs be.”</p> +<p>“What did Boris do––or say?”</p> +<p>“He walked rapidly to Sunna, and he said, +‘Miss Vedder, thou art wanted at thy home––at +once thou art wanted. Get thy cloak, and I will +walk with thee.’”</p> +<p>“Then?”</p> +<p>“She was angry, and yet terrified; but she left +the room. Boris feared she would try and escape +him, so he went to the door to meet her. Judge +for thyself what passed between them as Boris +took her home. At first she was angry, afterwards, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +she cried and begged Boris not to tell thee. +I am sure Boris was kind to her, though he told +her frankly she was on a dangerous road. All +this I had from Boris, and it is the truth; as for +what reports have grown from it, I give them no +heed. Sunna was deceitful and imprudent. I +would not think worse of her than she deserves.”</p> +<p>“Rahal, I am much thy debtor. This affair I +will now take into my own hands. To thee, my +promise stands good for all my life days––and +thou may tell Boris, it may be worth his while to +forgive Sunna. There is some fault with him +also; he has made love to Sunna for a long time, +but never yet has he said to me––‘I wish to make +Sunna my wife!’ What is the reason of that?”</p> +<p>“Well, then, Adam, a young man wishes to +make sure of himself. Boris is much from +home–––”</p> +<p>“There it is! For that very cause, he should +have made a straight clear road between us. I do +not excuse Sunna, but I say that wherever there is +a cross purpose, there has likely never been a +straight one. Thou hast treated me well, and I +am thy debtor; but it shall be ill with all those who +have led my child wrong––the more so, because +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +the time chosen for their sinful deed makes it immeasurably +more sinful.”</p> +<p>“The time? What is thy meaning? The time +was the usual hour of all entertainments. Even +two hours after the midnight is quite respectable +if all else is correct.”</p> +<p>“Art thou so forgetful of the God-Man, who +at this time carried the burden of all our sins?”</p> +<p>“Oh! You mean it is Lent, Adam?”</p> +<p>“Yes! It is Lent!”</p> +<p>“I was never taught to regard it.”</p> +<p>“Yet none keep Lent more strictly than Conall +Ragnor.”</p> +<p>“A wife does not always adopt her husband’s +ideas. I had a father, Adam, uncles and cousins +and friends. None of them kept Lent. Dost +thou expect me to be wiser than all my kindred?”</p> +<p>“I do.”</p> +<p>“Let us cease this talk. It will come to nothing.”</p> +<p>“Then good-bye.”</p> +<p>“Be not hard on Sunna. One side only, has +been heard.”</p> +<p>“As kindly as may be, I will do right.”</p> +<p>Then Adam went away, but he left Rahal very +unhappy. She had disobeyed her husband’s advice +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +and she could not help asking herself if she +would have been as easily persuaded to tell a similar +story about her own child. “Thora is a school +girl yet,” she thought, “but she is just entering the +zone of temptation.”</p> +<p>In the midst of this reflection Thora came into +the room. Her mother looked into her lovely +face with a swift pang of fear. It was radiant +with a joy not of this world. A light from an interior +source illumined it; a light that wreathed +with smiles the pure, childlike lips. “Oh, if she +could always remain so young, and so innocent! +Oh, if she never had to learn the sorrowful lessons +that love always teaches!”</p> +<p>Thus Rahal thought and wished. She forgot, +as she did so, that women come into this world +to learn the very lessons love teaches, and that +unless these lessons are learned, the soul can make +no progress, but must remain undeveloped and uninstructed, +even until the very end of this session +of its existence.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_ARIES_THE_RAM' id='CHAPTER_III_ARIES_THE_RAM'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>ARIES THE RAM</h3> +</div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>O Christ whose Cross began to bloom<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With peaceful lilies long ago;<br /> +Each year above Thy empty tomb<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>More thick the Easter garlands grow.<br /> +O’er all the wounds of this sad strife<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Bright wreathes the new immortal life.<br /> +<br /> +Thus came the word: Proclaim the year of the Lord!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And so he sang in peace;<br /> +Under the yoke he sang, in the shadow of the sword,<br /> +Sang of glory and release.<br /> +The heart may sigh with pain for the people pressed and slain,<br /> +The soul may faint and fall:<br /> +The flesh may melt and die––but the Voice saith, Cry!<br /> +And the Voice is more than all.––<span class='smcap'>Carl Spencer</span>.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p class='dropcap'><span class="dcap">It</span> was Saturday morning and the next day was +Easter Sunday. The little town of Kirkwall +was in a state of happy, busy excitement, for +though the particular house cleaning of the great +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +occasion was finished, every housewife was full +laden with the heavy responsibility of feeding the +guests sure to arrive for the Easter service. Even +Rahal Ragnor had both hands full. She was expecting +her sister-in-law, Madame Barbara Brodie +by that day’s boat, and nobody ever knew how +many guests Aunt Barbara would bring with her. +Then if her own home was not fully prepared to +afford them every comfort, she would be sure to +leave them at the Ragnor house until all was in +order. Certainly she had said in her last letter +that she was not “going to be imposed upon, by +anyone this spring”––and Thora reminded her +mother of this fact.</p> +<p>“Dost thou indeed believe thy aunt’s assurances?” +asked Rahal. “Hast thou not seen her +break them year after year? She will either ask +some Edinburgh friend to come back to Kirkwall +with her, or she will pick up someone on the way +home. Is it not so?”</p> +<p>“Aunt generally leaves Edinburgh alone. It is +the people she picks up on her way home that are +so uncertain. Dear Mother, can I go now to the +cathedral? The flowers are calling me.”</p> +<p>“Are there many flowers this year?”</p> +<p>“More than we expected. The Balfour greenhouse +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +has been stripped and they have such a +lovely company of violets and primroses and white +hyacinths with plenty of green moss and ivy. The +Baikies have a hothouse and have such roses and +plumes of curled parsley to put behind them, and +lilies-of-the-valley; and I have robbed thy greenhouse, +Mother, and taken all thy fairest auriculas +and cyclamens.”</p> +<p>“They are for God’s altar. All I have is His. +Take what vases thou wants, but Helga must +carry them for thee.”</p> +<p>“And, Mother, can I have the beautiful white +Wedgewood basket for the altar? It looked so +exquisite last Easter.”</p> +<p>“It now belongs to the altar. I gave it freely +last Easter. I promised then that it should never +hold flowers again for any meaner festival. Take +whatever thou wants for thy purpose, and delay +me no longer. I have this day to put two days’ +work into one day.” Then she lifted her eyes +from the pastry she was making and looking at +Thora, asked: “Art thou not too lightly clothed?”</p> +<p>“I have warm underclothing on. Thou would +not like me to dress God’s altar in anything but +pure white linen? All that I wear has been made +spotless for this day’s work.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span></div> +<p>“That is right, but now thou must make some +haste. There is no certainty about Aunt Barbie. +She may be at her home this very minute.”</p> +<p>“The boat is not due until ten o’clock.”</p> +<p>“Not unless Barbara Brodie wanted to land at +seven. Then, if she wished, winds and waves +would have her here at seven. Her wishes follow +her like a shadow. Go thy way now. Thou art +troubling me. I believe I have put too much +sugar in the custard.”</p> +<p>“But that would be a thing incredible.” Then +Thora took a hasty kiss, and went her way. A +large scarlet cloak covered her white linen dress, +and its hood was drawn partially over her head. +In her hands she carried the precious Wedgewood +basket, and Helga and her daughter had charge +of the flowers and of several glass vases for their +reception. In an hour all Thora required had +been brought safely to the vestry of Saint Magnus, +and then she found herself quite alone in this +grand, dim, silent House of God.</p> +<p>In the meantime Aunt Barbara Brodie had done +exactly as Rahal Ragnor anticipated. The boat +had made the journey in an abnormally short +time. A full sea, and strong, favourable winds, +had carried her through the stormiest Firth in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +Scotland, at a racer’s speed; and she was at her +dock, and had delivered all her passengers when +Conall Ragnor arrived at his warehouse. Then +he had sent word to Rahal, and consequently she +ventured on the prediction that “Aunt Barbara +might already be at her home.”</p> +<p>However, it had not been told the Mistress of +Ragnor, that her sister-in-law had actually “picked +up someone on the way”; and that for this reason +she had gone directly to her own residence. +For on this occasion, her hospitality had been +stimulated by a remarkably handsome young man, +who had proved to be the son of Dr. John Macrae, +a somewhat celebrated preacher of the most +extreme Calvinist type. She heartily disapproved +of the minister, but she instantly acknowledged +the charm of his son; but without her brother’s +permission she thought it best not to hazard +his influence over the inexperienced Thora.</p> +<p>“I am fifty-two years old,” she thought, “and I +know the measure of a man’s deceitfulness, so I +can take care of myself, but Thora is a childlike +lassie. It would not be fair to put her in danger +without word or warning. The lad has a wonderful +winning way with women.”</p> +<p>So she took her fascinating guest to her own +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +residence, and when he had been refreshed by a +good breakfast, he frankly said to her:</p> +<p>“I came here on special business. I have a +large sum of money to deliver, and I think I will +attend to that matter at once.”</p> +<p>“I will not hinder thee,” said Mrs. Brodie, “I’m +no way troubled to take care of my own money, +but it is just an aggravation to take care of other +folks’ siller. And who may thou be going to give +a ‘large sum of money’ to, in Kirkwall town? I +wouldn’t wonder if the party isn’t my own brother, +Captain Conall Ragnor?”</p> +<p>“No, Mistress,” the young man replied. “It +belongs to a young gentleman called McLeod.”</p> +<p>“Humph! A trading man is whiles very little +of a gentleman. What do you think of McLeod?”</p> +<p>“I am the manager of his Edinburgh business, +so I cannot discuss his personality.”</p> +<p>“That’s right, laddie! Folks seldom see any +good thing in their employer; and it is quite fair +for them to be just as blind to any bad thing in +him––but I’ll tell you frankly that your employer +has not a first rate reputation here.”</p> +<p>“All right, Mistress Brodie! His reputation is +not in my charge––only his money. I do not +think the quality of his reputation can hurt mine.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span></div> +<p>“Your father’s reputation will stand bail for +yours. Well now, run away and get business off +your mind, and be back here for one o’clock dinner. +I will not wait a minute after the clock chaps +one. This afternoon I am going to my brother’s +house, and I sent him a message which asks for +permission to bring you with me.”</p> +<p>“Thanks!” but he said the word in an unthankful +tone, and then he looked into Mistress Brodie’s +face, and she laughed and imitated his expression, +as she assured him “she had no girl with +matrimonial intentions in view.”</p> +<p>“You see, Mistress,” he said, “I do not intend +to remain longer than a week. Why should I run +into danger? I am ready to take heartaches. +Can you tell me how best to find McLeod’s warehouse?”</p> +<p>“Speir at any man you meet, and any man will +show you the place. I, myself, am not carin’ to +send folk an ill road.”</p> +<p>So Ian Macrae went into the town and easily +found his friend and employer. Then their business +was easily settled and it appeared to be every +way gratifying to both men.</p> +<p>“You have taken a business I hate off my hands, +Ian,” said McLeod, “and I am grateful to you. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +Where shall we go today? What would you like +to do with yourself?”</p> +<p>“Why, Kenneth, I would like first of all to see +the inside of your grand cathedral. I would say, +it must be very ancient.”</p> +<p>“Began in A. D., 1138. Is that old?”</p> +<p>“Seven hundred years! That will do for age. +They were good builders then. I have a strange +love for these old shrines where multitudes have +prayed for centuries. They are full of <i>Presence</i> +to me.”</p> +<p>“<i>Presence.</i> What do you mean?”</p> +<p>“Souls.”</p> +<p>“You are a creepy kind of mortal. I think, Ian, +if you were not such a godless man, you might +have been a saint.”</p> +<p>Macrae drew his lips tight, and then said in +detached words––“My father is––sure––I––was––born––at––the––other––end––of––the––measure.”</p> +<p>Then they were in the interior of the cathedral. +The light was dim, the silence intense, and both +men were profoundly affected by influences unknown +and unseen. As they moved slowly forward +into the nave, the altar became visible, and +in this sacred place of Communion Thora was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +moving slowly about, leaving beauty and sweetness +wherever she lingered.</p> +<p>Her appearance gave both men a shock and +both expressed it by a spasmodic breath. They +spoke not; they watched her slim, white figure +pass to-and-fro with soft and reverent steps, arranging +violets and white hyacinths with green +moss in the exquisite white Wedgewood. Then +with a face full of innocent joy she placed it upon +the altar, and for a few moments stood with +clasped hands, looking at it.</p> +<p>As she did so, the organist began to practice his +Easter music, and she turned her face towards the +organ. Then they saw fully a beautiful, almost +childlike face transfigured with celestial emotions.</p> +<p>“Let us get out of this,” whispered McLeod. +“What business have we here? It is a kind of +sacrilege.” And Ian bowed his head and followed +him. But it was some minutes ere the every-day +world became present to their senses. +McLeod was the first to speak:––</p> +<p>“What an experience!” he sighed. “I should +not dare to try it often. It would send me into a +monastery.”</p> +<p>“Are you a Roman Catholic?”</p> +<p>“What else would I be? When I was a lad, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +I used to dream of being a monk. It was power I +wanted. I thought then, that priests had more +power than any other men; as I grew older I +found out that it was money that owned the +earth.”</p> +<p>“Not so!” said Ian sharply, “‘the earth is the +Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.’ I promised to be +at Mistress Brodie’s for dinner at one o’clock. +What is the time?”</p> +<p>McLeod took out his watch:––“You have +twenty minutes,” he said. “I was just going to +tell you that the girl we saw in the cathedral is +her niece.”</p> +<p>Ian had taken a step or two in the direction of +the Brodie house, but he turned his head, and +with a bright smile said, “Thank you, Ken!” and +McLeod watched him a moment and then with a +sigh softly ejaculated: “What a courteous chap +he is––when he is in the mood to be courteous––and +what a ––– when he is not in the mood.”</p> +<p>Ian was at the Brodie house five minutes before +one, and he found Mistress Brodie waiting for +him. “I am glad that you have kept your tryst,” +she said. “We will just have a modest bite now, +and we can make up all that is wanting here, at +my brother Coll’s, a little later. I have a pleasant +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +invite for yourself. My good sister-in-law has +read some of your father’s sermons in the Sunday +papers and magazines, and for their sake she will +be glad to see you. I just promised for you.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, I shall be glad to go with you,” +and it was difficult for him to disguise how more +than glad he was to have this opportunity.</p> +<p>“So then, you will put on the best you have with +you––the best is none too good to meet Thora in.”</p> +<p>“Thora?”</p> +<p>“Thora Ragnor, my own niece. She is the bonniest +and the best girl in Scotland, if you will take +me as a judge of girls. ‘Good beyond the lave of +girls,’ and so Bishop Hadley asked her special +to dress the altar for Easter. He knew there +would be no laughing and daffing about the work, +if Thora Ragnor had the doing of it.”</p> +<p>“Is there any reason to refrain from laughing +and daffing while at that work?”</p> +<p>“At God’s altar there should be nothing but +prayer and praise. You know what girls talk +and laugh about. If they have not some poor +lad to bring to worship, or to scorn, they have no +heart to help their hands; and the work is done +silent and snappy. They are wishing they were at +home, and could get their straight, yellow hair on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +to crimping pins, because Laurie or Johnny would +be coming to see them, it being Saturday night.”</p> +<p>“Then the Bishop thought your niece would be +more reverent?”</p> +<p>“He knew she would. He knew also, that she +would not be afraid to be in the cathedral by herself, +she would do the work with her own hands, +and that there would be no giggling and gossiping +and no young lads needed to hold vases and scissors +and little balls of twine.”</p> +<p>Their “moderate bite” was a pleasant lingering +one. They talked of people in Edinburgh with +whom they had some kind of a mutual acquaintance, +and Mistress Brodie did the most of the +talking. She was a charming story-teller, and she +knew all the good stories about the University +and its great professors. This day she spent the +time illustrating John Stuart Blackie taking his +ease in a dressing gown and an old straw hat. She +made you see the man, and Ian felt refreshed and +cheered by the mental vision. As for Lord Roseberry, +he really sat at their “modest bite” with +them. “You know, laddie,” she said, “Scotsmen +take their politics as if they were the Highland +fling; and Roseberry was Scotland’s idol. He was +an orator who carried every soul with him, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +whether they wanted to go or not; and I was +told by J. M. Barrie, that once when he had fired +an audience to the delirium point, an old man in +the hall shouted out:––‘I dinna hear a word; but +it’s grand; it’s grand!’”</p> +<p>They barely touched on Scottish religion. Mistress +Brodie easily saw it was a subject her guest +did not wish to discuss, and she shut it off from +conversation, with the finality of her remark that +“some people never understood Scotch religion, +except as outsiders misunderstood it. Well, Ian, +I will be ready for our visit in about two hours; +one hour to rest after eating and a whole hour to +dress myself and lecture the lasses anent behaving +themselves when they are left to their own idle +wishes and wasteful work.”</p> +<p>“Then in two hours I will be ready to accompany +you; and in the meantime I will walk over +the moor and smoke a cigar.”</p> +<p>“No, no, better go down to the beach and watch +the puffins flying over the sea, and the terns fishing +about the low lying land. Or you might get +a sight of an Arctic skua going north, or a black +guillemot with a fish in its mouth flying fast to +feed its young. The seaside is the place, laddie! +There is something going on there constantly.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span></div> +<p>So Ian went to the seaside and found plenty of +amusement there in watching a family quarrel +among the eider ducks, who were feeding on the +young mussels attached to the rocks which a low +tide had uncovered.</p> +<p>It was a pleasant walk to the Ragnor home, +and Rahal and Thora were expecting them. The +sitting room was cheery with sunshine and fire +glow, Rahal was in afternoon dress and Thora +was sitting near the window spinning on the little +wheel the marvellously fine threads of wool made +from the dwarfish breed of Shetland sheep, and +used generally for the knitting of those delicate +shawls which rivalled the finest linen laces. On +the entrance of her aunt and Ian Macrae she rose +and stood by her wheel, until the effusive greetings +of the two elder ladies were complete; and +Ian was utterly charmed with the picture she made––it +was completely different from anything he had +ever seen or dreamed about.</p> +<p>The wheel was a pretty one, and was inlaid +with some bright metal, and when Thora rose +from her chair she was still holding a handful of +fine snowy wool. Her blue-robed and blue-eyed +loveliness appeared to fill the room as she stood +erect and smiling, watching her mother and aunt. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +But when her aunt stepped forward to introduce +Ian to her, she turned the full light of her lovely +countenance upon him. Then both wondered +where they had met before. Was it in dreams +only?</p> +<p>Mother and aunt were soon deep in the fascinating +gossip of an Edinburgh winter season, and +Thora and Ian went into the greenhouse and the +garden and found plenty to talk about until Conall +Ragnor came home from business and supper was +served. And the wonder was, that Conall bent to +the young man’s charm as readily as Thora had +done. He was amazed at his shrewd knowledge +of business methods and opportunities; and listened +to him with grave attention, though laughing +heartily at some of his plans and propositions.</p> +<p>“Mr. Macrae,” he said, “thou art too far north +for me. I do know a few Shetlanders that could +pare the skin off thy teeth, but we Orcadeans are +simple honest folk that just live, and let live.” +At which remark Ian laughed, and reminded +Conall Ragnor of certain transactions in railway +stock which had nonplussed the Perth directors at +the time. Then Ragnor asked how he happened +to know what was generally considered “private +information,” and Ian answered, “Private information +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +is the most valuable, sir. It is what I +look for.” Then Ragnor rose from the table and +said, “Let us have a smoke and a little music.”</p> +<p>“Take thy smoke, Coll,” said Mrs. Ragnor, +“and Mr. Macrae will give us the music. Barbara +says he sings better than Harrison. Come, +Mr. Macrae, we are waiting to hear thee.”</p> +<p>Ian made no excuses. He sat down and sang +with delightful charm and spirit “A Life on the +Ocean Wave” and “The Bay of Biscay.” Then +these were followed by the fresh and then popular +songs, “We May Be Happy Yet,” “Then You’ll +Remember Me” and “The Land of Our Birth.” +No one spoke or interrupted him, even to praise; +but he was well repaid by the look on every face +and the kindness that flowed out to him. He could +see it in the eyes, and hear it in the voices, and +feel it in the manner of all present.</p> +<p>The silence was broken by the sound of quick, +firm footsteps. Ragnor listened a moment and +then went with alacrity to open the door. “I knew +it was thee!” he cried. “O sir, I am glad to see +thee! Come in, come in! None can be more +welcome!” And it was good to hear the strong, +sweet modulations of the voice that answered him.</p> +<p>“It is Bishop Hedley!” said Rahal.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span></div> +<p>“Then I am going,” said Aunt Barbara.</p> +<p>“No, no, Aunt!” cried Thora, and the next +moment she was at her aunt’s side coaxing her to +resume her chair. Then the Bishop and Ragnor +entered the room, and the moment the Bishop’s +face shone upon them, all talk about leaving the +room ceased. For Bishop Hedley carried his +Great Commission in his face and his life was a +living sermon. His soul loved all mankind; and +he had with it an heroic mind and a strong-sinewed +body, which refused to recognise the fact +that it died daily. For the Bishop’s business was +with the souls of men, and he lived and moved +and did his daily work in a spiritual and eternal +element.</p> +<p>And if constant commerce with the physical +world weakens and ages the man who lives and +works in it, surely the life passed amid spiritual +thoughts and desires is thereby fortified and +strengthened to resist the cares and worries which +fret the physical body to decay. Then vainly the +flesh fades, the soul makes all things new. This +is a great truth––“it is only by the supernatural +we are strong.”</p> +<p>The Bishop came in bringing with him, not only +the moral tonic of his presence, but also the very +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +breath of the sea; its refreshing “tang,” and good +salt flavour. His smile and blessing was a spiritual +sunshine that warmed and cheered and brightened +the room. He was affectionate to all, but to +Mistress Brodie and Ian Macrae, he was even +more kindly than to the Ragnors. They were not +of his flock but he longed to take care of them.</p> +<p>“I heard singing as I came through the garden,” +he said, “and it was not your voice, Conall.”</p> +<p>“It was Ian Macrae singing,” Conall answered, +“and he will gladly sing for thee, sir.” This +promise Macrae ratified at once, and that with +such power and sweetness that every one was +amazed and the Bishop requested him to sing, +during the next day’s service, a fine “Gloria” he +had just given them in the cathedral choir. And +Ian said he would see the organist, and if it could +be done, he would be delighted to obey his request.</p> +<p>“See the organist!” exclaimed Mistress Brodie. +“What are you talking about? The organist is +Sandy Odd, the barber’s son! How can the like +of him hinder the Bishop’s wish?” Then the +Bishop wrote a few words in his pocket book, tore +out the leaf, and gave it to Macrae, saying: “Mr. +Odd will manage all I wish, no doubt. Now, sir, +for my great pleasure, play us ‘Home, Sweet +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +Home.’ I have not been here for four months, +and it is good to be with friends again.” And they +all sang it together, and were perfectly at home +with each other after it. So much so, that the +Bishop asked Rahal to give him a cup of tea and +a little bread; “I have come from Fair Island today,” +he said, “and have not eaten since noon.”</p> +<p>Then all the women went out together to prepare +and serve the requested meal, so that it came +with wonderful swiftness, and beaming smiles, and +charming words of laughing pleasure. And when +he saw a little table drawn to the hearth for him +and quickly spread with the food he needed and +smelled the refreshing odour of the young Hyson, +and heard the pleasant tinkle of china and glass +and silver as Thora placed them before the large +chair he was to occupy, he sat down happily to +eat and drink, while Thora served him, and Conall +smoked and watched them with a now-and-then +smile or word or two, while Rahal and Barbara +talked, and Ian played charmingly––with soft +pedal down––quotations from Beethoven’s “Pastoral +Symphony” and “Hark, ’Tis the Linnet!” +from the oratorio, “Joshua.”</p> +<p>It was a delightful interlude in which every one +was happy in their own way, and so healed by it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +of all the day’s disappointments and weariness. +But the wise never prolong such perfect moments. +Even while yielding their first satisfactions, they +permit them to depart. It is a great deal to +<i>have been happy</i>. Every such memory sweetens +after life.</p> +<p>The Bishop did not linger over his meal, and +while servants were clearing away cups and plates, +he said, “Come, all of you, outside, for a few +minutes. Come and look at the Moon of Moons! +The Easter Moon! She has begun to fill her +horns; and she is throwing over the mystery and +majesty of earth and sea a soft silvery veil as +she watches for the dawn. The Easter dawn! +that in a few hours will come streaming up, full +of light and warmth for all.”</p> +<p>But there was not much warmth in an Orcadean +April evening and the party soon returned to the +cheerful, comfortable hearth blaze. “It is not so +beautiful as the moonlight,” said Rahal, “but it is +very good.”</p> +<p>“True,” said the Bishop, “and we must not belittle +the good we have, because we look for +something better. Let us be thankful for our +feet, though they are not wings.”</p> +<p>Then one of those sudden, inexplicable “arrests” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +which seem to seal up speech fell over every +one, and for a minute or more no one could speak. +Rahal broke the spell. “Some angel has passed +through the room. Please God he left a blessing! +Or perhaps the moonlight has thrown a +spell over us. What were you thinking of, +Bishop?”</p> +<p>“I will tell you. I was thinking of the first +Good Friday in Old Jerusalem. I was thinking +of the sun hiding his face at noonday. Thora, +have you an almanac?”</p> +<p>Thora took one from a nail on which it was +hanging and gave it to him.</p> +<p>“I was thinking that the sun, which hid his face +at noonday, must at that time have been in Aries, +the Ram. Find me the signs of the Zodiac.” +Thora did so. “Now look well at Aries the Ram. +What month of our year is signed thus?”</p> +<p>“The month of March, sir.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“I do not know. Tell me, sir.”</p> +<p>“I believe that in a long forgotten age, some +priest or good man received a promise or prophecy +revealing the Great Sacrifice that would be +offered up for man’s salvation once and for all +time. And I think they knew that this plenary +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +sacrament would occur in the vernal season, in +the month of March, whose sign or symbol was +Aries, the Ram.”</p> +<p>“But why under that sign, sir?”</p> +<p>“The ram, to the ancient world, was the sacrificial +animal. We have only to open our Bibles +and be amazed at the prominence given to the +ram and his congeners. From the time of Abraham +until the time of Christ the ram is constantly +present in sacrificial and religious ceremonies. +Do you remember, Thora, any incident depending +upon a ram?”</p> +<p>“When Isaac was to be sacrificed, a ram caught +in a thicket was accepted by God in Isaac’s place, +as a burnt offering.”</p> +<p>“More than once Abraham offered a ram in +sacrifice. In Exodus, Chapter Twenty-ninth, special +directions are given for the offering of a ram +as a burnt offering to the Lord. In Leviticus, the +Eighth Chapter, a bullock is sacrificed for a sin +offering but a ram for a burnt offering. In Numbers +we are told of <i>the ram of atonement</i> which a +man is to offer, when he has done his neighbour +an injury. In Ezra, the Tenth, the ram is offered +for a trespass because of an unlawful marriage. +On the accession of Solomon to the throne one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +thousand rams with bullocks and lambs were +‘offered up with great gladness.’ In the Old +Testament there are few books in which the sacrificial +ram is not mentioned. Even the horn of +the ram was constantly in evidence, for it called +together all religious and solemn services.</p> +<p>“A little circumstance,” continued the Bishop, +“that pleases me to remember occurred in Glasgow +five weeks ago. I saw a crowd entering a large +church, and I asked a workingman, who was eating +his lunch outside the building, the name of the +church; and he answered,––‘It’s just the auld +Ram’s Horn Kirk. They are putting a new minister +in the pulpit today and they seem weel +pleased wi’ their choice.’</p> +<p>“Now I am going to leave this subject with +you. I have only indicated it. Those who wish +to do so, can finish the list, for the half has not +been told, and indeed I have left the most significant +ceremony until the last. It is that wonderful +service in the Sixteenth Chapter of Leviticus, +where the priest, after making a sin offering +of young bullocks and a burnt offering of a ram, +casts lots upon two goats for a sin offering, and +the goat upon which the lot falls is ‘presented alive +before the Lord to make an atonement; and to let +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +him go for a scapegoat into the wilderness.’”</p> +<p>Then he took from his pocket a little book and +said, “Listen to the end of this service, ‘And +Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the head of +the live goat, and confess over him all the iniquities +of the Children of Israel, and all their transgressions +in all their sins, putting them upon the +head of the goat, and shall send him away, by +the hand of a fit man into the wilderness.</p> +<p>“‘And the goat shall bear upon him all their +iniquities unto a land not inhabited; and he shall +let go the goat in the wilderness.’</p> +<p>“My friends, this night let all read the Fifty-third +of Isaiah, and they will understand how fitting +it was that Christ should be ‘offered up’ in +Aries the Ram, the sacrificial month representing +the shadows and types of which He was the glorious +arch-type.”</p> +<p>Then there was silence, too deeply charged with +feeling, for words. The Bishop himself felt that +he could speak on no lesser subject, and his small +audience were lost in wonder at the vast panorama +of centuries, day by day, century after century, +through all of which God had remembered that +He had promised He would provide the Great +and Final Sacrifice for mankind’s justification. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +Then Aries the Ram would no longer be a promise. +It would be a voucher forever that the +Promise had been redeemed, and a memorial that +His Truth and His mercy endureth forever!</p> +<p>At the door the Bishop said to Ragnor, “In a +few hours, Friend Conall, it will be Easter +Morning. Then we can tell each other ‘<i>Christ has +risen</i>!’” And Conall’s eyes were full of tears, +he could not find his voice, he looked upward and +bowed his head.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_SUNNA_AND_HER_GRANDFATHER' id='CHAPTER_IV_SUNNA_AND_HER_GRANDFATHER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>SUNNA AND HER GRANDFATHER</h3> +</div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Love is rich in his own right,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>He is heir of all the spheres,<br /> +In his service day and night,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Swing the tides and roll the years. <br /> +What has he to ask of fate?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Crown him; glad or desolate.<br /> +<br /> +Time puts out all other flames,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>But the glory of his eyes;<br /> +His are all the sacred names,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>His are all the mysteries.<br /> +Crown him! In his darkest day<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>He has Heaven to give away!<br /></p> +<p class='ralign cg'>––<span class='smcap'>Carl Spencer.</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='center cg'>Arms are fair,</p> +<p class='cg'>When the intent for bearing them is just.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p class='dropcap'><span class="dcap">In</span> the meantime Sunna was spending the evening +with her grandfather. The old gentleman +was reading, but she did not ask him to read +aloud, she knew by the look and size of the book +that it would not be interesting; and she was well +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +pleased when one of her maids desired to speak +with her.</p> +<p>“Well then, Vera, what is thy wish?”</p> +<p>“My sister was here and she was bringing me +some strange news. About Mistress Brodie she +was talking.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I heard she had come home. Did she +bring Thora Ragnor a new Easter gown?”</p> +<p>“Of a gown I heard nothing. It was a young +man she brought! O so beautiful is he! And +like an angel he sings! The Bishop was very +friendly with him, and the Ragnors, also; but they, +indeed! they are friendly with all kinds of people.”</p> +<p>“This beautiful young man, is he staying with +the Ragnors?”</p> +<p>“With Mistress Brodie he is staying, and with +her he went to dinner at the Ragnors’. And the +Bishop was there and the young man was singing, +and a great deal was made of his singing, also +they were speaking of his father who is a famous +preacher in some Edinburgh kirk, and–––”</p> +<p>“These things may be so, but how came thy +sister to know them?”</p> +<p>“This morning my sister took work with Mistress +Ragnor and she was waiting on them as they +eat; and in and out of the room until nine o’clock. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +Then, as she went to her own home, she called +on me and we talked of the matter, and it seemed +to my thought that more might come of it.”</p> +<p>“Yes, no doubt. I shall see that more does +come of it. I am well pleased with thee for telling +me.”</p> +<p>Then she went back to her grandfather and +resumed her knitting. Anon, she began to sing. +Her face was flushed and her nixie eyes were dancing +to the mischief she contemplated. In a few +minutes the old gentleman lifted his head, and +looked at her. “Sunna,” he said, “thy song and +thy singing are charming, but they fit not the book +I am reading.”</p> +<p>“Then I will stop singing and thou must talk +to me. There has come news, and I want thy +opinion on it. The Ragnors had a dinner party +today, and we were not asked.”</p> +<p>“A great lie is that! Conall Ragnor would not +give Queen Victoria a party in Lent. Who told +thee such foolishness?”</p> +<p>Then Sunna retailed the information given her +and asked, “What hast thou done to Conall +Ragnor? Always before he bid thee to dinner +when the Bishop was at his house? Or perhaps +the offence is with Rahal Ragnor? Not long ago +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +thou spent an afternoon with her and black +and dangerous as a thunder storm thou came +home.”</p> +<p>“This day the dinner was an accidental gathering. +Rahal knows well that I have no will to +dine with Mistress Brodie. Dost thou want her +here, as thy stepmother?”</p> +<p>“If Mistress Brodie is not tired of an easy life, +she will turn her feet away from this house. If +Sunna cannot please thee, thou art in danger of +worse happening. Yes, many are guessing who +it is thou wilt marry.”</p> +<p>“And which way runs the guessing?”</p> +<p>“Not all one way. For thee, that is not a respectable +thing. Thou should not be named with +so many old women.”</p> +<p>“I am of thy opinion. An old woman is little +to my mind. If I trust marriage again, I will +choose a young girl for my wife––such an one as +Treddie Fae, or Thora Ragnor.”</p> +<p>“Thora Ragnor! Dreaming thou art! I am +sure Barbara Brodie has brought this young man +here for Thora’s approval. Can thou stand +against a young man?”</p> +<p>“Yes. Adam Vedder and fifty thousand pounds +can hand any young man his hat and gloves. Thy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +father’s father is not for thee to make a jest about. +So here our talk shall come to an end on this +subject. Go to thy bed! Sleep, and the Good +Being bless thee!”</p> +<p>Sunna was not yet inclined to sleep. She sat +down before her mirror, uncoiled her plentiful +hair, and carefully brushed and braided it for the +night, as she considered the news that had come +to her.</p> +<p>“This beautiful young man, this singing man, is +one of Barbara Brodie’s ‘finds.’ Not much do I +think of any of them! That handsome scholar she +brought here turned out an unbearable encumbrance. +I believe she paid him to go back to Edinburgh. +That Aberdeen man, who wanted to invest +money in Kirkwall had to borrow two pounds from +grandfather to take him back to where he came +from. That witty, good-looking Irishman left a +big bill at the Castle Hotel for some one to pay; +and the woman who wanted to begin a dressmaking +business, on the good will of people like +Barbara Brodie, knew nothing about dressmaking. +This beautiful young man, I’ll warrant, is a fish +out of the same net. As for the Bishop being +taken with his beauty, that is nothing! The poorer +a man is, the better Bishop Hedley will like him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +So it goes! I wish I knew where Boris Ragnor +is––I wish–––</p> +<p>“Pshaw! I wonder what kind of a dress Mistress +Barbara Brodie brought Thora. Not much +taste in either men or clothes has she! Too large +will the pattern be, or too strong the colours, and +too heavy, or too light, will be the material. I +know! And it will not fit her. Too big, or too +little it is sure to be! With my own dress I am +satisfied. And if grandfather asks no questions +about it, I shall count it a lucky dress and save it +till Boris comes home. I am going to forgive him +when he comes home––perhaps–––Now I will +put the hopes and worries of this world under my +pillow and be off to the Land of Dreams–––Tomorrow +is Sunday, Easter Sunday––I shall +sing the solo in my new dress––that is good, I like +a religious feeling in a new dress––I think I am +rather a religious girl.”</p> +<p>Alas for the hopes of all who wanted to dress +for Easter. It was an uncompromising, wet day. +It was oil skin and rubber for the men; it was +cloaks and pattens and umbrellas for the women. +Yet, aside from the rain, it was a day full of good +things. The cathedral was crowded, there was +full cathedral service, and the Bishop preached a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +transfiguring sermon. The music was good, the +home choir did well, and Sunna’s solo was +effectively sung; but after she had heard Ian +Macrae’s “Gloria,” she was sorry she had sung +at all.</p> +<p>“Grandfather!” she commented, “No private +person has a right to sing as that man sings! +After him, non-professionals make a show of +themselves.”</p> +<p>“Thou sang well––better than usual, I +thought.”</p> +<p>“I was told he was such a handsome young +man! And he has black hair and black eyes! +Even his skin is dark. He looks like a Celt. I +don’t like Celts. None of our people like them. +When they come to the fishing they are not respected.”</p> +<p>“Thou art much mistaken. Our men like +them.”</p> +<p>“Boris Ragnor says they are poor traders.”</p> +<p>“Well then, it is to fish they come.”</p> +<p>“What they come for is no care of mine. Boris +is ten times more of a man than the best of them. +No notice shall I take of this Celt.”</p> +<p>“Through thy scorn he may live, and even enjoy +his life. The English officers do that.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></div> +<p>“This chicken is better than might be. Wilt +thou have a little more of it?”</p> +<p>“Enough is plenty. I have had enough. At +Conall Ragnor’s there is always good eating and +I am going there for my supper. Wilt thou go +with me? Then with Thora thou can talk. This +beautiful young man is likely at Ragnor’s. It was +too stormy for Mistress Brodie to go to her own +house at the noonday. Dost thou see then, how it +will be?”</p> +<p>“I will go with thee, I want to see Thora’s new +dress. I need not notice the young man.”</p> +<p>“His name? Already I have forgotten it.”</p> +<p>“Odd was calling him ‘Macrae.’”</p> +<p>“Macrae! That is Highland Scotch. The +Macraes are a good family. There is a famous +minister in Edinburgh of that name. The Calvinists +all swear by him.”</p> +<p>“This man sang in a full cathedral service. +Dost thou believe a Calvinist would do that? He +would be sure it was a disguised mass, and nothing +better.”</p> +<p>Adam laughed as he said, “Well, then, go with +me this night to Ragnor’s and between us we will +find something out. A mystery is not pleasant to +thee.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span></div> +<p>“There is something wrong in a mystery, that is +what I feel.”</p> +<p>“Thou can ask Thora all about him.”</p> +<p>“I shall not ask her. She will tell me.”</p> +<p>Adam laughed again. “That is the best way,” +he said. “It was thy father’s way. Well then, +five minutes ago, the wind changed. By four +o’clock it will be fair.”</p> +<p>“Then I will be ready to go with thee. If I +am left alone, I am sad; and that is not good for +my health.”</p> +<p>“But thou must behave well, even to the Celt.”</p> +<p>“Unless it is worth my while, I do not quarrel +with any one.”</p> +<p>“Was it worth thy while to quarrel with Boris +Ragnor?”</p> +<p>“Yes––or I had not quarrelled with him.”</p> +<p>“Here comes the sunshine! Gleam upon +gloom! Cheery and good it is!”</p> +<p>“They say an Easter dress should be christened +with a few drops of rain. That is not my opinion. +I like the Easter sunshine on it. Now I shall +leave thee and go and rest and dress myself. Very +good is thy talk and thy company to me, but to +thee, I am foolishness. As I shut the door, the +big book thou art reading, thou wilt say to it: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +‘Now, friend of my soul, some sensible talk we +will have together, for that foolish girl has gone +to her foolishness at her looking glass.’”</p> +<p>“Run away! I am in a hurry for my big +book.”</p> +<p>Sunna shut the door with a kiss––and as she +took the stairs with hurrying steps, the sunshine +came dancing through the long window, and her +feet trod on it and it fell all over her.</p> +<p>At four o’clock she was ready for her evening’s +inquest and she found her grandfather waiting +for her. He had put on a light vest and a white +tie, and he had that clean, healthy, good-tempered +look that pleases all women. He smiled and +bowed to Sunna and she deserved the compliment; +for she was beautiful and had dressed her beauty +most becomingly. Her gown was of Saxony cloth, +the exact colour of her hair, with a collar, stomacher +and high cuffs of pale green velvet. The +collar was tied with cord and small tassels of gold +braid; the stomacher laced with gold braid over +small gilt buttons, and the high cuffs were trimmed +to match. Very handsome gilt combs held up her +rippled hair, and a large red-riding-hood cloak +covered her from the crowning bow of her hair to +the little French pattens that protected her black +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +satin slippers. She expected to make a conquest, +and her thoughts were usually the factors of +success.</p> +<p>A little disappointment awaited her. She was +usually shown into the right-hand parlour at once, +and she relied on the bit of colour afforded by her +scarlet cloak to give life to the modest shades of +her spring colours of pale fawn and tender green. +But servants were setting the dinner table in the +right-hand parlour; and Conall and Rahal and +Aunt Barbara had taken themselves to Conall’s +little business room where there was a bright fire +burning. There, in his big chair, Conall was next +door to sleeping; and Barbara and Rahal +were talking in a sleepy, mysterious way about +something that did not appear to interest +them.</p> +<p>At the sound of Adam Vedder’s voice, Conall +became wide awake; and Barbara’s face lighted +up with a fresh interest. If there was nothing else, +there was a chronic quarrel between them, which +Barbara was ready to lift at a moment’s notice. +But Sunna was not dissatisfied. Conall’s quick +look of admiration, and Rahal’s and Barbara’s +glances of surprise, were excellent in their way. +She knew she had given them a subject of interest +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +sufficient to make even the hour before dinner +appear short.</p> +<p>“Where is Thora?” she asked, as she turned +every way, apparently to look for Thora, but +really to allow her admirers to convince themselves +that her dress was trimmed as handsomely +at the back as the front––that if the stomacher +was perfect in front, the sash of green velvet at +the back was quite as stylish and elaborate.</p> +<p>“Where <i>is</i> Thora?” she asked again.</p> +<p>“In the drawing room thou wilt find Thora with +Ian Macrae,” said Rahal. “Go to them. They +will be glad of thy company.”</p> +<p>“Doubtful is their gladness. Two are company, +three are a crowd. Yet so it is! I must run into +danger, like the rest of women.”</p> +<p>“Is that thy Easter gown, Sunna?” asked Mistress +Brodie.</p> +<p>“It is. Dost thou like it?”</p> +<p>“Who would not like it? The rumour goes +abroad that thy grandfather sent to Inverness +for it. Others say it came to thee from Edinburgh.”</p> +<p>“Wrong are both stories. I am happy to say +that Sunna Vedder gave herself a dress so pretty +and so suitable.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span></div> +<p>With these smiling words she left the room and +the elder women shrugged their shoulders and +looked expressively at each other. “What can a +sensible man like Boris Ragnor see in such a +harum-scarum girl!” was Rahal Ragnor’s question, +and Barbara Brodie thought it was all Adam +Vedder’s fault. “He ought to have married some +sensible woman who would have brought up the +girl as girls ought to be brought up,” she answered; +adding, “We may as well remember that +the management of women, at any age, is a +business clean beyond Adam Vedder’s capabilities.”</p> +<p>“Adam is a clever man, Barbie.”</p> +<p>“Book clever! What is the use of book wisdom +when you have a live girl, full of her own +way, to deal with?”</p> +<p>“Conall chose the husbands for his daughters. +They were quite suitable to the girls and they have +been very happy with them.”</p> +<p>“Thora will choose for herself.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps, that may be so. Thora has been +spoiled. Her marriage need not yet be thought +of. In two or three years, we will consider it. +The little one has not yet any dreams of that +kind.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span></div> +<p>“Such dreams come in a moment––when you +are not thinking of them.”</p> +<p>In fact, at that very moment Thora was learning +the mystery of “falling in love”; and there is +hardly a more vital thing in life than this act. +For it is something taking place in the subconscious +self; it is a revolution, and a growth. It +happened that after dinner, Conall wished to hear +Ian sing again that loveliest of all metrical Collects, +“Lord of All Power and Might,” and Thora +went with Ian to do her part as accompanist on +the piano. As they sang Conall appeared to fall +asleep, and no more music was asked for.</p> +<p>Then Ian lifted a book full of illustrations of +the English lake district, and they sat down on the +sofa to examine it. Ian had once been at Keswick +and Ambleside, and he began to tell her about +Lake Windemere and these lovely villages. He +was holding Thora’s hand and glancing constantly +into her face, and before he recognised what he +was saying, Ambleside and Windemere were quite +forgotten, and he was telling Thora that he loved +her with an everlasting love. He vowed that he +had loved her in his past lives, and would love her, +and only her, forever. And he looked so handsome +and spoke in words of the sweetest tenderness, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +and indeed was amazed at his own passionate +eloquence, but knew in his soul that every word he +said was true.</p> +<p>And Thora, the innocent little one, was equally +sure of his truth. She blushed and listened, while +he drew her closer to his side calling her “his own, +his very own!” and begging her to promise that +she would “marry him, and no other man, in the +whole earth.”</p> +<p>And Thora promised him what he wished and +for one-half hour they were in Paradise.</p> +<p>Now, how could this love affair have come to +perfection so rapidly? Because it was the natural +and the proper way. True love dates its birth +from the first glance. It is the coming together +of two souls, and in their first contact love flashes +forth like flame. And then their influence over +each other is like that gravitation which one star +exerts over another star.</p> +<p>But much that passes for love is not love. It is +only a prepossession, pleasant and profitable, +promising many every-day advantages. True love +is a deep and elemental thing, a secret incredible +glory, in a way, it is even a spiritual triumph. +And we should have another name for love like +this. For it is the long, long love, that has followed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +us through ages, the healing love, the Comforter! +In the soul of a young, innocent girl like +Thora, it is a kind of piety, and ought to be taken +with a wondering thankfulness.</p> +<p>An emotion so spiritual and profound was +beyond Sunna’s understanding. She divined that +there had been some sort of love-making, but she +was unfamiliar with its present indications. Her +opinion, however, was that Ian had offered himself +to Thora, and been rejected; in no other way +could she account for the far-offness of both parties. +Thora indeed was inexplicable. She not only +refused to show Sunna her Easter dress, she would +not enter into any description of it.</p> +<p>“That is a very remarkable thing,” she said to +her grandfather, as they walked home together. +“I think the young man made love to Thora and +even asked her to marry him, and Thora was +frightened and said ‘No!’ and she is likely sorry +now that she did not say ‘Yes.’”</p> +<p>“To say ‘No!’ would not have frightened thee, +I suppose?”</p> +<p>“That is one of the disagreeable things women +have to get used to.”</p> +<p>“How often must a woman say ‘No!’ in order +to get used to it?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span></div> +<p>“That depends on several small things; for instance +I am very sympathetic. I have a tender +heart! Yes, and so I suffer.”</p> +<p>“I am glad to know of thy sympathy. If I +asked thee to marry a young man whom I wished +thee to marry, would thou do it––just to please +me?”</p> +<p>“It would depend––on my mood that day.”</p> +<p>“Say, it was thy sympathetic mood?”</p> +<p>“That would be unfavourable. Of the others +I should think, and I should feel that I was cruel; +if I took all hope from them.”</p> +<p>“Thou wilt not be reasonable. I am not joking. +Would thou marry Boris to please me?”</p> +<p>“Boris has offended me. He must come to me, +and say, ‘I am sorry.’ He must take what punishment +I choose for his rudeness to me. Then, I +may forgive him.”</p> +<p>“And marry him?”</p> +<p>“Only my angel knows, if it is so written. Men +do not like to do as their women say they must +do. Is there any man in the Orcades who dares +to say ‘No,’ to his wife’s ‘Yes?’”</p> +<p>“What of Sandy Stark?”</p> +<p>“Sandy is a Scot! I do not use a Scotch measure +for a Norseman. Thou art not a perfect +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +Norseman, but yet, even in Edinburgh, there is +no Scot that could be thy measure. I should have +to say––‘thou art five inches taller than the Scot +at thy side, and forty pounds heavier, and nearly +twice as strong.’ That would not be correct to +an ounce, but it is as near as it is possible to come +between Norse and Scot.”</p> +<p>“Thou art romancing!”</p> +<p>“As for the Norse women–––”</p> +<p>“About Norse women there is no need for thee +to teach thy grandfather. I know what Norse +women are like. If I did not know, I should have +married again.”</p> +<p>“Well then, Barbara Brodie is a good specimen +of a capable Norse woman and I have noticed one +thing about them, that I feel ought to be better +understood.”</p> +<p>“Chut! What hast thou understood? Talk +about it, and let thy wisdom be known.”</p> +<p>“Well then, it is this thing––Norse women +always outlive their husbands. Thou may count +by tens and hundreds the widows in this town. +The ‘maidens of blushing fifteen’ have no opportunities; +the widow of fifty asks a young man into +her beautiful home and makes him acquainted +with the burden of her rents and dividends and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +her share in half a dozen trading boats, and he +takes to the golden lure and marries himself like +the rest of the world. Thou would have been +re-married long ago but for my protection. I +have had a very disagreeable day and–––”</p> +<p>“Then go to thy bed and put an end to it.”</p> +<p>“My new dress is crushed and some way or +other I have got a spot on the front breadth. Is +it that Darwin book thou art looking for?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Would thou like to read a chapter to me?”</p> +<p>“No, I would not.”</p> +<p>“Grandfather, I can understand it. I like clever +men. Can thou introduce me to him––to Darwin?”</p> +<p>“He would not care to see thee. Clever men +do not want clever wives; so if thou art thinking +of a clever husband keep thy ‘blue stockings’ well +under thy petticoats.”</p> +<p>“And grandfather, do thou keep out of the way +of the widows of Orkney or thou wilt find thyself +inside of a marriage ring.”</p> +<p>“Not while thou remains unmarried. Few +women would care to look after thy welfare. I +am used to it, long before thou had been short-coated, +I had to walk thee to sleep in my arms.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span></div> +<p>“Yes,” laughed Sunna, “I remember that. I +felt myself safest with thee.”</p> +<p>“Thou remembers nothing of the kind. At six +months old, thou could neither compare nor +remember.”</p> +<p>“But thou art mistaken. I was born with perfect +senses. Ere I was twenty-four hours old, I +had selected thee as the most suitable person to +walk me to sleep. I think that was a proof of my +perfect intelligence. One thing more, and then I +will let thee read. I am going to marry Boris +Ragnor, and then the widow Brodie would––take +charge of thee.” She shut the door to these words +and Adam heard her laughing all the way to her +own room. Then he rubbed his hand slowly over +and over his mouth and said to himself––“She +shall have her say-so; Boris is the only man on +the Islands who can manage her.”</p> +<p>After the departure of the Vedders, Rahal and +her sister Brodie went upstairs, taking Thora with +them. She went cheerfully though a little reluctantly. +She liked to hear Ian talk. She had +thought of asking him to sing; but she was satisfied +with the one straight, long look which flashed +between them, as Ian bid her “good night”; +for––</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +<p class='cg'>He looked at her as a lover can;<br /> +She looked at him as one who awakes,<br /> +The past was a sleep and her life began.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>Then she went to her room, and thought of Ian +until she fell asleep and dreamed of him.</p> +<p>For nearly two hours Ian remained with Conall +Ragnor. The Railway Mania was then at its +height in England, and the older man was delighted +with Ian’s daring stories of its mad excitement. +Ian had seen and talked with Hudson, the +draper’s clerk, who had just purchased a fine ducal +residence and estate from the results of his reckless +speculations. Ian knew all the Scotch lines, he +had even full faith in the <i>Caledonian</i> when it was +first proposed and could hardly win any attention. +“Every one said a railway between England and +Scotland would not pay, Mr. Ragnor,” said Ian.</p> +<p>“I would have said very different,” replied +Conall. “It would be certain to pay. Why not?”</p> +<p>“Because there would be <i>no returns</i>,” laughed +Ian, and then Conall laughed also, and wished that +Boris had been there to learn whatever Ian might +teach him.</p> +<p>“Hast thou speculated in railway stock yet,” he +asked.</p> +<p>“No, sir. I have not had the money to do so.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span></div> +<p>“How would thou buy if thou had?”</p> +<p>“I would buy when no one else was buying, and +when everyone else was buying, I would keep cool, +and sell. A very old and clever speculator gave +me that advice as a steady rule, saying it was ‘his +only guide.’”</p> +<p>This was the tenor of the men’s conversation +until near midnight, and then Ragnor went with +Ian to the door of his room and bid him a frank +and friendly good night. And as he stood a moment +handfast with the youth, his conscience troubled +him a little and he said: “Ian, Ian, thou art a +wise lad about this world’s business, but thou must +not be forgetting that there is another world after +this.”</p> +<p>“I do not forget that, sir.”</p> +<p>“Bishop Hedley is a greater and wiser man +than all the railway nabobs thou hast spoken of.”</p> +<p>“I think so, sir! I do indeed!” and the mutual +smile and nod that followed required no further +“good night.”</p> +<p>It was a lovely, silent night. The very houses +looked as if they were asleep; and there was not +a sound either in the town on the brown pier or +the moonlit sea. It was a night full of the tranquillity +of God. Men and women looked into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +its peace, and carried its charm into their dreams. +For most fine spirits that dwell by the sea have an +elemental sympathy with strange oracles and +dreams and old Night. In the morning, Conall +Ragnor was the first to awaken. He went at +once to fling open his window. Then he cried +out in amazement and wonder, and awakened his +wife:––</p> +<p>“Rahal! Rahal!” he shouted. “Come here! +Come quick! Look at the town! It is hung with +flags. The ships in the harbour––flying are their +flags also! And there is a ship just entering the +harbour and her colours are flying! And there +are the guns! They are saluting her from the +garrison! It must be a man-of-war! I wonder +if the Queen is coming to see us at last! If thou +art ready, call Thora and Barbara. Something +is up! Thou may hear the town now, all tip-on-top +with excitement!”</p> +<p>“Why did not thou call us sooner, Coll?”</p> +<p>“I slept late and long.”</p> +<p>“But thou must have heard the town noises?”</p> +<p>“A confused noise passed through my ears, a +noise full of hurry like a morning dream, that was +all. Now, I am going for my swim and I will +bring the news home with me.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span></div> +<p>But long before it was within expectation of +Ragnor’s return, the three women standing at the +open door saw Ian coming rapidly to the house +from the town. His walk was swift and full of +excitement. His head was thrown upward, and +he kept striking himself on the right side, just over +the place where his ancestors had worn their dirks +or broadswords. As soon as he saw the three +women he flung his Glengarry skyward and +shouted a ringing “Hurrah!”</p> +<p>As he approached them, all were struck with +his remarkable beauty, his manly figure, his swift +graceful movements and his handsome face suffused +with the brightness of fiery youth. Through +their long black lashes his eyes were shining and +glowing and full of spirit, and indeed his whole +personality was instinct with verve and fire. Anyone +watching his approach would have said––“Here +comes a youth made to lead a rattling +charge of cavalry.”</p> +<p>“Whatever is the matter with you, Ian?” +cried Mistress Brodie. “You are surely gone +daft.”</p> +<p>“No indeed!” he answered. “I seem at this +very hour to have just found myself and my +senses.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span></div> +<p>“What is all the fuss about, Ian?” asked +Rahal.</p> +<p>“England has gone to war at the long last with +the cruel, crafty black Bear of the North.”</p> +<p>“Well then, it is full time she did so, there are +none will say different.”</p> +<p>“And,” continued Ian, “there is a ship now in +harbour carrying enlisting officers––you may see +her; she is to call at the Orkney and Shetland +Islands for recruits for the navy, and Great Scot! +she will get them! All she wants! She could take +every man out of Kirkwall!”</p> +<p>“The Mayor and Captain Ragnor will not permit +her to do so. She will have to leave men to +manage the fishing,” said Rahal.</p> +<p>“I thought the women could do that,” said Ian.</p> +<p>“You do not know what you are talking about. +It takes two or three men to lift a net full of fish +out of the water, and they are about done up if +they manage it. Come in and get your breakfast. +If your news be true, there is no saying when +Ragnor will get home. He will have some reasoning +with his men to do, he cannot spare many of +them.”</p> +<p>“I have a good idea,” said Mistress Brodie. +“I will give a dance on Friday night for the enlisting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +officers, and we will invite all the presentable +young men, and all the prettiest girls, to +meet them.”</p> +<p>“But you will be too late on Friday. The +cutter and her crew will leave Thursday morning +early,” said Ian.</p> +<p>“Then say Wednesday night.”</p> +<p>“That might do. I could tell the men freshly +enlisted to wear a white ribbon in their coats–––”</p> +<p>“No, no, no!” cried Rahal. “What are you +saying, Ian? A white favour is a Stuart favour. +You would set the men fighting in the very dance +room. There is no excuse in the Orkneys for a +Stuart memory.”</p> +<p>“I was not thinking of the Stuarts. Have they +not done bothering yet?”</p> +<p>“In the Scotch heart the Stuart lives forever,” +said Rahal, with a sigh.</p> +<p>But the dance was decided on and some preparations +made for it as soon as breakfast was over. +Ian was enthusiastic on the matter and Thora +caught his enthusiasm very readily, and before +night, all Kirkwall was preparing to feast and +rejoice because England was going to make the +great Northern Bear––“the Bear that walks like +a man”––stay in the North where he belonged.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_SUNNA_AND_THORA' id='CHAPTER_V_SUNNA_AND_THORA'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>SUNNA AND THORA</h3> +</div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Love, the old, old troubler of the world.<br /> +<br /> +Love has reasons, of which reason knows nothing.<br /> +<br /> +Alas, how easily things go wrong!<br /> +A sigh too much, or a kiss too long,<br /> +And there follows a mist and a weeping rain<br /> +And life is never the same again.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p class='dropcap'><span class="dcap">No</span> sooner was Mrs. Brodie’s intention known, +than all her friends were eager to help her. +There was truly but little time between Monday +morning and Wednesday night; but many hands +make light work, and old and young offered their +services in arranging for what it pleased all to +consider as a kind of national thanksgiving.</p> +<p>The unanimity of this kindness gave Rahal a +slight attack of a certain form of jealousy, to +which she had been subject for many years, and +she asked her husband, as she had done often +before, “Why is it, Coll, that every woman in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +town is eager to help and encourage Barbara if +she only speaks of having a dance or dinner; but +if I, thy wife, am the giver of pleasure, I am +left to do all without help or any show of interest. +It troubles me, Coll.”</p> +<p>And Coll answered as he always did answer––“It +is thy superiority, Rahal. Is there any woman +we know, who would presume to give thee advice +or counsel? And it is well understood by all of +them that thou cannot thole an obligation. Thou, +and thy daughter, and thy servants are sufficient +for all thy social plans; and why should thou be +bothered with a lot of old and young women? +Thy sister Brodie loves a crowd about her, and +she says ‘thank thee’ to all and sundry, as easily +as she takes a drink of water. It chokes thee to +say ‘thanks’ to any one.”</p> +<p>So Rahal was satisfied, and went with the rest +to help Mistress Brodie prepare for her dance. +There were women in the kitchen making pies and +custards and jellies, and women in her parlours +cleaning and decorating them, and women in the +great hall taking up carpets because it was a favourite +place for reels, and women washing China +and trimming lamps. Thora was doing the shopping, +Ian was carrying the invitations; and every +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +one who had been favoured with one had not only +said “Yes,” but had also asked if there was anything +they could loan, or do, to help the impromptu +festival. Thus, Mrs. Harold Baikie sent her best +service of China, and the Faes sent several extra +large lamps, and the bride of Luke Serge loaned +her whole supply of glassware, and Rahal took +over her stock of table silver; and Mistress +Brodie received every loan––useful or not––with +the utmost delight and satisfaction.</p> +<p>On Wednesday afternoon, however, she was +faced by a condition she did not know how to +manage. Ian came to her in a hurry, saying, +“My friend, McLeod, is longing for an invitation +from you, and he has asked me to request one. +Surely you will send him the favour! Yes, I +know you will.”</p> +<p>“You are knowing too much, Ian. What can I +do? You know well, laddie, he is not popular +with the best set here.”</p> +<p>“I would not mind the ‘best set’ if I were you. +What makes them ‘the best’? Just their own +opinion of themselves. McLeod is of gentle +birth, he is handsome and good-hearted, you will +like him as soon as you speak to him. There is +another ‘best set’ beside the one Adam Vedder +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +leads; I would like some one to take down that +old man’s conceit of himself––there is nothing +wrong with McLeod! Yes, he is Highland +Scotch–––”</p> +<p>“There! that is enough, Ian! Go your ways +and bid the young man. Ask him in your own +name.”</p> +<p>“No, Mistress, I will not do that. The invitation +carries neither honour nor good will without +your name.”</p> +<p>“Well then, my name be it. My name has been +so much used lately, I think I will change it.”</p> +<p>“Take my name then. I will be proud indeed +if you will.”</p> +<p>“You are aye daffing, Ian; I am o’er busy for +nonsense the now. Give the Mac a hint that tartans +are not necessary.”</p> +<p>“But I cannot do that. I am going to wear the +Macrae tartan.”</p> +<p>“You can let that intent go by.”</p> +<p>“No, I can not! A certain ‘yes’ may depend +on my wearing the Macrae tartan.”</p> +<p>“Well, checked cloth is bonnier than black +broadcloth to some people. I don’t think Thora +Ragnor is among that silly crowd. There is not +a more quarrelsome dress than a tartan kilt––and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +I’m thinking the Brodies were ill friends with the +Macraes in the old days.”</p> +<p>“The Brodies are not Highlanders.”</p> +<p>“You are a shamefully ignorant man, Ian +Macrae. The Brodies came from Moray, and +are the only true lineal descendants of Malcolm +Thane of Brodie in the reign of Alexander the +Third, lawful King of Scotland. What do you +think of the Brodies now?”</p> +<p>“The Macrae doffs his bonnet to them; +but–––”</p> +<p>“If you say another word, the McLeod will be +out of it––sure and final.”</p> +<p>So Ian laughingly left the room, and Mistress +Brodie walked to the window and watched him +speeding towards the town. “He is a wonderful +lad!” she said to herself. “And I wish he was +my lad! Oh why were all my bairns lasses? They +just married common bodies and left me! Oh for +a lad like Ian Macrae!” Then with a great sigh, +she added: “It is all right. I would doubtless +have spoiled and mismanaged him!”</p> +<p>It is not to be supposed that Sunna Vedder kept +away from all this social stir and preparation. +She was first and foremost in everything during +Monday and Tuesday, but Wednesday she reserved +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +herself altogether for the evening. No +one saw her until the noon hour; then she came to +the dinner table, for she had an entirely fresh +request to make, one which she was sure would +require all her personal influence to compass.</p> +<p>She prefaced it with the intelligence that Boris +had arrived during the night, and that Elga had +met him in the street––“looking more handsome +than any man ought to look, except upon his +wedding day.”</p> +<p>“And on that day,” said Adam, gloomily, “a +man has generally good cause to look ugly.”</p> +<p>“But if he was going to marry me, Grandfather, +how then?”</p> +<p>“He would doubtless look handsome. Men +usually do when they are on the road of destruction.”</p> +<p>“Grandfather! I have made up my mind to +marry Boris, and lead him the way I want him to +go. That will always be the way thou chooseth.”</p> +<p>“How comes that?”</p> +<p>“I loved thee first of all. I shall always love +thee first. Boris played me false, I must pay him +back. I must make him suffer. Those Ragnors––all +of them––put on such airs! They make me +sick.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span></div> +<p>“What art thou after? What favour art thou +seeking?”</p> +<p>“Thou knows how the girls will try to outdress +each other at this Brodie affair–––”</p> +<p>“It is too late for a new dress––what is it thou +wants now?”</p> +<p>“I want thee to go to the bank and get me my +mother’s necklace to wear just this one night.”</p> +<p>“I will not. I gave thy dead mother a +promise.”</p> +<p>“Break it, for a few hours. My Easter dress +is not a dancing dress. I have no dancing dress +but the pretty white silk thou gave me last Christmas––and +I have no ornaments at all––none whatever, +fit to wear with it.”</p> +<p>“There are always flowers–––”</p> +<p>“Flowers! There is not a flower in Kirkwall. +Easter and old Mistress Brodie have used up +every daisy––besides, white silk ought to have +jewels.”</p> +<p>Adam shook his head positively.</p> +<p>“My mother wishes me to have what I want. +Thou ought not to keep it from me.”</p> +<p>“She told me to give thee her necklace on thy +twenty-first birthday––not before.”</p> +<p>“That is so silly! What better is my twenty-first +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +birthday than any other day? Grandfather, +I cannot love thee more, because my love for thee +is already a perfect love; but I will be such a good +girl if thou wilt give me what I want, O so much +I want it! I will be so obedient! I will do everything +thou desires! I will even marry Boris +Ragnor.” And this urgent request was punctuated +with kisses and little fondling strokes of her +hand, and Adam finally asked––</p> +<p>“How shall I answer thy mother when she +accuses me of breaking my promise to her?”</p> +<p>“I will answer for thee. O dear! It is growing +late! If thou dost not hurry, the bank will +be closed, and then I shall be sick with disappointment, +and it will be thy fault.”</p> +<p>Then Adam rose and left the house and Sunna, +having seen that he took the proper turn in the +road, called for a cup of tea and having refreshed +herself with it, went upstairs to lay out and prepare +everything for her toilet. And as she went +about this business she continually justified herself:––</p> +<p>“It is only natural I should have my necklace,” +she thought. “Norse women have always adored +gold and silver and gems, and in the old days +their husbands sailed long journeys and fought +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +battles for what their women wanted. My great +Aunt Christabelle often told me that many of the +old Shetland and Orkney families had gold ornaments +and uncut gems, hundreds of years old, hid +away. I would not wonder if Grandfather has +some! I dare say the bank’s safe is full of them! +I do not care for them but I do want my mother’s +wedding necklace––and I am going to have it. +Right and proper it is, I should have it now. +Mother would say so if she were here. Girls are +women earlier than they were in her day. Twenty-one, +indeed! I expect to be married long before +I am twenty-one.”</p> +<p>In less than an hour she began to watch the road +for her grandfather’s return. Very soon she saw +him coming and he had a small parcel in his hand. +Her heart gave a throb of satisfaction and she +began to unplait her manifold small braids: “I +shall not require to go to bed,” she murmured. +“Grandfather has my necklace. He will want to +take it back to the bank tomorrow––I shall see +about that––I promised––yes, I know! But there +are ways––out of a promise.”</p> +<p>She was, of course, delightfully grateful to +receive the necklace, and Vedder could not help +noticing how beautiful her loosened hair looked. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +Its length and thickness and waves of light colour +gave to her stately, blonde beauty a magical grace, +and Vedder was one of those men who admire +the charms of his own family as something naturally +greater than the same charms in any other +family. “The Vedders carry their beauty with an +air,” he said, and he was right. The Vedders +during the course of a few centuries of social +prominence had acquired that air of superiority +which impresses, and also frequently +offends.</p> +<p>Certainly, Sunna Vedder in white silk and a +handsome necklace of rubies and diamonds was +an imposing picture; and Adam Vedder, in spite +of his sixty-two years, was an imposing escort. It +would be difficult to say why, for he was a small +man in comparison with the towering Norsemen +by whom he was surrounded. Yet he dominated +and directed any company he chose to favour with +his presence; and every man in Kirkwall either +feared or honoured him. Sunna had much of his +natural temperament, but she had not the driving +power of his cultivated intellect. She relied on +her personal beauty and the many natural arts +with which Nature has made women a match for +any antagonist. Had she not heard her grandfather +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +frequently say “a beautiful woman is the +best armed creature that God has made! She is +as invincible as a rhinoceros!”</p> +<p>This night he had paid great attention to his +own toilet. He was fashionably attired, neat as +a new pin, and if not amiable, at least exceedingly +polite. He had leaning on his arm what he considered +the most beautiful creature in Scotland, +and he assumed the manners of her guardian with +punctilious courtesy.</p> +<p>There was a large company present when the +Vedders reached Mrs. Brodie’s––military men, a +couple of naval officers, gentlemen of influence, +and traders of wealth and enterprise; with a full +complement of women “divinely tall and fair.” +Sunna made the sensation among them she expected +to make. There was a sudden pause in +conversation and every eye filled itself with her +beauty. For just a moment, it seemed as if there +was no other person present.</p> +<p>Then Mrs. Brodie and Colonel Belton came to +meet them, and Sunna was left in the latter’s +charge. “Will you now dance, Miss Vedder?” +he asked.</p> +<p>“Let us first walk about a little, Colonel. I +want to find my friend, Thora Ragnor.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span></div> +<p>“I have long desired an introduction to Miss +Ragnor. Is she not lovely?”</p> +<p>“Yes, but now only for one man. A stranger +came here last week, and she was captured at +once.”</p> +<p>“How remarkable! I thought that kind of +irresponsible love had gone quite out of favour and +fashion.”</p> +<p>“Not so! This youth came, saw, and conquered.”</p> +<p>“Is it the youth I see with Ken McLeod?”</p> +<p>“The same. Look! There they are, together +as usual.”</p> +<p>“She is very sweet and attractive.”</p> +<p>Sunna answered this remark by asking Thora +to honour Colonel Belton with her company for a +short time, saying: “In the interval I will take +care of Ian Macrae.” Then Thora stood up in +her innocence and loveliness and she was like some +creature of more ethereal nature than goes with +flesh and blood. For the eye took her in as a +whole, and at first noticed neither her face nor +her dress in particular. Her dress was only of +white tarlatan, a thin, gauze-like material long out +of fashion. It is doubtful if any woman yet remembers +its airy, fairy sway, and graceful folds. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +The filmy robe, however, was plentifully trimmed +with white satin ribbon, and the waist was entirely +of satin trimmed with tarlatan. The whole effect +was girlish and simple, and Thora needed no other +ornament but the pink and white daisies at her +belt.</p> +<p>However, if Sunna expected Thora’s manner +and conversation to match the simplicity of her +dress, she was disappointed. In Love’s school +women learn with marvellous rapidity, and Thora +astonished her by falling readily into a conversation +of the most up-to-date social character. She +had caught the trick from Ian, a little playful fencing +round the most alluring of subjects, yet it +brought out the simplicity of her character, while +it also revealed its purity and intelligence.</p> +<p>Dancing had commenced when Mrs. Ragnor +entered the room on the arm of her son Boris. +Boris instantly looked around for Sunna and she +was dancing with McLeod. All the evening afterwards +Boris danced, but never once with Sunna, +and Adam Vedder watched the young man with +scorn. He was the most desirable party in the +room for any girl and he quite neglected the handsome +Sunna Vedder. That was not his only annoyance. +McLeod was dancing far too often with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +Sunna, and even the beautiful youth Ian Macrae +had only asked her hand once; and Adam was +sure that Thora Ragnor had been the suggester of +that act of politeness. Girls far inferior to Sunna +in every respect had received more attention than +his granddaughter. He was greatly offended, but +he appeared to turn his back on the whole affair +and to be entirely occupied in conversation with +Conall Ragnor and Colonel Belton concerning the +war with Russia.</p> +<p>Every way the evening was to Sunna a great disappointment, +in many respects she felt it to be a +great humiliation; and the latter feeling troubled +her more for her grandfather than for herself. +She knew he was mortified, for he did not speak to +her as they walked through the chill, damp midnight +to their home. Mrs. Brodie had urged +Adam and Sunna to put the night past at her +house, but Adam had been proof against all her +suggestions, and even against his own desires. So +he satisfied his temper by walking home and insisting +on Sunna doing likewise.</p> +<p>It was a silent, unhappy walk. Adam said not +a word to Sunna and she would not open the way +for his anger to relieve itself. When they reached +home they found a good fire in the room full of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +books which Adam called his own, and there they +went. Then Sunna let her long dress fall down, +and put out her sandalled feet to the warmth of +the fire. Adam glanced into her face and saw that +it was full of trouble.</p> +<p>“Go to thy bed, Sunna,” he said. “Of this +night thou must have had enough.”</p> +<p>“I have had too much, by far. If only thou +loved me!”</p> +<p>“Who else do I love? There is none but thee.”</p> +<p>“Then with some one thou ought to be angry.”</p> +<p>“Is it with Boris Ragnor I should be angry?”</p> +<p>“Yes! It is with Boris Ragnor. Not once did +he ask me to dance. Watching him and me were +all the girls. They saw how he slighted me, and +made little nods and laughs about it.”</p> +<p>“It was thy own fault. When Boris came into +the room, he looked for thee. With McLeod +thou wert dancing. With that Scot thou wert +dancing! The black look on his face, I saw it, +thou should have seen it and have given him a +smile––Pshaw! Women know so much––and do +so little. By storm thou ought to have taken the +whole affair for thy own. I am disappointed in +thee––yes, I am disappointed.”</p> +<p>“Why, Grandfather?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span></div> +<p>“An emergency thou had to face, and thou +shirked it. When Boris entered the room, straight +up to him thou should have gone; with an outstretched +hand and a glad smile thou should have +said: ‘I am waiting for thee, Boris!’ Then thou +had put all straight that was crooked, and carried +the evening in thy own hands.”</p> +<p>“I will pay Boris for this insult. Yes, I will, +and thou must help me.”</p> +<p>“To quarrel with Boris? To injure him in +any way? No! that I will not do. It would be to +quarrel also with my old friend Conall. Not thee! +Not man or woman living, could make me do +that! Sit down and I will tell thee a better way.”</p> +<p>“No, I will not sit down till thou say ‘yes’ to +what I ask”; for some womanly instinct told her +that while Adam was cowering over the hearth +blaze and she stood in all her beauty and splendour +above him, she controlled the situation. “Thou +must help me!”</p> +<p>“To what or whom?”</p> +<p>“I want to marry Boris.”</p> +<p>“Dost thou love him?”</p> +<p>“Better than might be. When mine he is all +mine, then I will love him.”</p> +<p>“That is little to trust to.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span></div> +<p>“Thou art wrong. It is of reasons one of the +best and surest. Not three months ago, a little +dog followed thee home, an ugly, half-starved little +mongrel, not worth a shilling; but it was determined +to have thee for its master, and thou called +it thy dog, and now it is petted and pampered and +lies at thy feet, and barks at every other dog, and +thou says it is the best dog on the Island. It is +the same way with husbands. Thou hast seen how +Mary Minorie goes on about her bald, scrimpy +husband; yet she burst out crying when he put the +ring on her finger. Now she tells all the girls +that marriage is ‘Paradise Regained.’ When +Boris is my husband it will be well with me, and +not bad for him. He will be mine, and we love +what is our own.”</p> +<p>“Why wilt thou marry any man? Thou wilt be +rich.”</p> +<p>“One must do as the rest of the world does––and +the world has the fashion of marrying.”</p> +<p>“Money rules love.”</p> +<p>“No!”</p> +<p>“Yes! Bolon Flett had only scorn for his poor +little wife until her uncle left her two thousand +pounds. Since then, no word is long enough or +good enough for her excellencies. Money opens +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +the eyes as well as the heart. What then, if I +make Boris rich?”</p> +<p>“Boris is too proud to take money from thee +and I will not be sold to any man!”</p> +<p>“Wilt thou wait until my meaning is given thee––flying +off in a temper like a foolish woman!”</p> +<p>“I am sorry––speak thy meaning.”</p> +<p>“Sit down. Thou art not begging anything.”</p> +<p>“Not from thee. I have thy love.”</p> +<p>“And thine is mine. This is my plan. Above +all things Boris loves a stirring, money-making +business. I am going to ask him to take me as +his partner. Tired am I of living on my past. +How many boats has Boris?”</p> +<p>“Thou knowest he has but one, but she is large +and swift, and does as much business as McLeod’s +three little sloops.”</p> +<p>“Schooners.”</p> +<p>“Schooners, then––little ones!”</p> +<p>“Well then, there is a new kind of boat which +thou hast never seen. She is driven by steam, not +wind, she goes swiftly, all winds are fair to her, +and she cares little for storms.”</p> +<p>“I saw a ship like that when I was in Edinburgh. +She lay in Leith harbour, and the whole +school went to Leith to see her come in.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span></div> +<p>“If Boris will be my partner, I will lay my luck +to his, and I will buy a steam ship, a large coaster––dost +thou see?”</p> +<p>Then with a laugh she cried: “I see, I see! +Then thou can easily beat the sloops or schooners, +that have nothing but sails. Good is that, very +good!”</p> +<p>“Just so. We can make two trips for their one. +No one can trade against us.”</p> +<p>“McLeod may buy steam ships.”</p> +<p>“I have learned all about him. His fortune is +in real estate, mostly in Edinburgh. It takes a +lifetime to sell property in Edinburgh. We shall +have got all there is to get before McLeod could +compete with Vedder and Ragnor.”</p> +<p>“That scheme would please Boris, I know.”</p> +<p>“A boat could be built on the Clyde in about +four months, I think. Shall I speak to Boris?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Boris will not fly in the face of good fortune; +but mind this––it is easier to begin that reel +than it will be to end it. One thing I do not like––thou +wert angry with Boris, now thou wilt take +him for a partner.”</p> +<p>“At any time I can put my anger under my purse––but +my anger was mostly against thee. Now +shall I do as I am minded?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span></div> +<p>“That way is more likely than not! I think +this affair will grow with thee––but thou may +change thy mind–––”</p> +<p>“I do not call my words back. Go now to thy +bed and forget everything. This is the time when +sleep will be better than either words or deeds. +Of my intent speak to <i>no one</i>. In thy thoughts let +it be still until its hour arrives.”</p> +<p>“In the morning, very early, I am going to see +Thora. When the enlisting ship sails northward, +there will be a crowd to see her off. Boris and +Thora and Macrae will be among it. I also intend +to be there. Dost thou know at what hour +she will leave?”</p> +<p>“At ten o’clock the tide is full.”</p> +<p>“Then at ten, she will sail.”</p> +<p>“Likely enough, is that. Our talk is now ended. +Let it be, as if it had not been.”</p> +<p>“I have forgotten it.”</p> +<p>Vedder laughed, and added: “Go then to thy +bed, I am tired.”</p> +<p>“Not tired of Sunna?”</p> +<p>“Well then, yes, of thee I have had enough at +present.”</p> +<p>She went away as he spoke, and then he was +worried. “Now I am unhappy!” he ejaculated. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +“What provokers to the wrong way are women! +Her mother was like her––my beloved Adriana!” +And his old eyes filled with sorrowful tears as he +recalled the daughter he had lost in the first days +of her motherhood. Very soon Sunna and Adriana +became one and he was fast asleep in his +chair.</p> +<p>In the morning Sunna kept her intention. She +poured out her grandfather’s coffee, and talked of +everything but the thing in her heart and purpose. +After breakfast she said: “I shall put the day past +with Thora Ragnor. Thy dinner will be served +for thee by Elga.”</p> +<p>“Talking thou wilt be–––”</p> +<p>“Of nothing that ought to be kept quiet. Do +not come for me if I am late; I intend that Boris +shall bring me home.”</p> +<p>Sunna dressed herself in a pretty lilac lawn +frock, trimmed with the then new and fashionable +Scotch open work, and fresh lilac ribbons. Her +hair was arranged as Boris liked it best, and it +was shielded by one of those fine, large Tuscan +hats that have never, even yet, gone out of fashion.</p> +<p>“Why, Sunna!” cried Thora, as she hastened to +meet her friend, “how glad am I to see thee!”</p> +<p>“Thou wert in my heart this morning, and I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +said to it ‘Be content, in an hour I will take thee to +thy desire.’” And they clasped hands, and walked +thus into the house. “Art thou not tired after +the dance?”</p> +<p>“No,” replied Thora, “I was very happy. Do +happy people get tired?”</p> +<p>“Yes––one can only bear so much happiness, +then it is weariness––sometimes crossness. Too +much of any good thing is a bad thing.”</p> +<p>“How wise thou art, Sunna.”</p> +<p>“I live with wisdom.”</p> +<p>“With Adam Vedder?”</p> +<p>“Yes, and thou hast been living with Love, with +Mr. Macrae. Very handsome and good-natured +he is. I am sure that thou art in love with him! +Is that not the case?”</p> +<p>“Very much in love with me he is, Sunna. It +is a great happiness. I do not weary of it, no, +indeed! To believe in love, to feel it all around +you! It is wonderful! You know, Sunna––surely +you know?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I, too, have been in love.”</p> +<p>“With Boris––I know. And also Boris is in +love with thee.”</p> +<p>“That is wrong. No longer does Boris love +me.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span></div> +<p>“But that is impossible. Love for one hour is +love forever. He did love thee, then he could not +forget. Never could he forget.”</p> +<p>“He did not notice me last night. Thou must +have seen?”</p> +<p>“I did not notice––but I heard some talk about +it. The first time thou art alone with him, he will +tell thee his trouble. It is only a little cloud––it +will pass.”</p> +<p>“I suppose the enlisting ship sails northaway +first?”</p> +<p>“Yes, to Lerwick, though they may stop at Fair +Island on the way. Boris says they could get many +men there––and Boris knows.”</p> +<p>“Art thou going to the pier to see them leave? +I suppose every one goes. Shall we go together?”</p> +<p>“Why, Sunna! They left this morning about +four o’clock. Father went down to the pier with +Boris. Boris sailed with them.”</p> +<p>“Thora! Thora! I thought Boris was to remain +here until the naval party returned from +Shetland?”</p> +<p>“The lieutenant in command thought Boris +could help the enlisting, for in Lerwick Boris has +many friends. Thou knows my sisters Anna and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +Nenie live in Lerwick. Boris was fain to go and +see them.”</p> +<p>“But they will return here when their business +is finished in Lerwick?”</p> +<p>“They spoke of doing so, but mother is not believing +they will return. They took with them all +the men enlisted here and the men are wanted very +much. Boris did not bid us a short ‘good-bye.’ +Mother was crying, and when he kissed me his +tears wet my cheeks.”</p> +<p>Sunna did not answer. For a few minutes she +felt as if her heart had suddenly died. At last she +blundered out:</p> +<p>“I suppose the officer was afraid that––Boris +might slip off while he was away.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, thou supposes what is wrong. +When a fight is the question, Boris needs no one +either to watch him or to egg him on.”</p> +<p>“Is that youngster, Macrae, going to join? Or +has he already taken the Queen’s shilling? I think +I heard such a report.”</p> +<p>“No one could have told that story. Macrae is +bound by a contract to McLeod for this year and +indeed, just yet, he does not wish to go.”</p> +<p>“He does not wish to leave thee.”</p> +<p>“That is not out of likelihood.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></div> +<p>“Many are saying that England is in great +stress, and my grandfather thinks that so she is.”</p> +<p>“My father says ‘not so.’ If indeed it were so, +my father would have gone with Boris. Mother +is cross about it.”</p> +<p>“About what then is she cross?” asked Sunna.</p> +<p>“People are saying that England is in stress. +Mother says such words are nothing but men’s +‘fear talk.’ England’s sons are many, and if few +they were, she has millions of daughters who +would gladly fight for her!” said Thora.</p> +<p>“Well, then, for heroics there is no present +need! I surely thought Boris loved his business +and would not leave his money-making.”</p> +<p>“Could thou tell me what incalculable sum of +money a man would take for his honour and patriotism?” +asked Thora.</p> +<p>“What has honour to do with it?”</p> +<p>“Everything; a man without honour is not a +man––he is just ‘a body’; he has no soul. Robert +Burns told Andrew Horner how such men were +made!” replied Thora.</p> +<p>“How was that? Tell me! A Burns’ anecdote +will put grandfather in his finest temper, and I +want him in that condition for I have a great +favour to ask from him.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></div> +<p>“The tale tells that when Burns was beginning +to write, he had a rival in a man called Andrew +Horner. One day they met at the same club dinner, +and they were challenged to each write a verse +within five minutes. The gentlemen guests took +out their watches, the poets were furnished with +pencils and paper. When time was up Andrew +Horner had not written the first line but Burns +handed to the chairman his verse complete.”</p> +<p>“Tell me. If you know it, tell me, Thora!”</p> +<p>“Yes, I know it. If you hear it once you do +not forget it.”</p> +<p>“Well then?”</p> +<p>“It runs thus:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“‘Once on a time<br /> +The Deil gat stuff to mak’ a swine<br /> +And put it in a corner;<br /> +But afterward he changed his plan<br /> +And made it summat like a man,<br /> +And ca’ed it Andrew Horner.’”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“That is good! It will delight grandfather.”</p> +<p>“No doubt he already knows it.”</p> +<p>“No, I should have heard it a thousand times, +if he knew it.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span></div> +<p>“Well, then, I believe it has been suppressed. +Many think it too ill-natured for Burns to have +written; but my father says it has the true Burns +ring and is Robert Burns’ writing without doubt.”</p> +<p>“It will give grandfather a nice long job of investigation. +That is one of his favourite amusements, +and all Sunna has to do is to be sure he is +right and everybody else wrong. Now I will go +home.”</p> +<p>“Stay with me today.”</p> +<p>“No. Macrae will be here soon.”</p> +<p>“Uncertain is that.”</p> +<p>“Every hair on thy head, Thora, every article +of thy dress, from the lace at thy throat to the sandals +on thy feet, say to me that this is a time when +my absence will be better than my company.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, do as thou art minded.”</p> +<p>“It is best I do so. A happy morning to thee! +What more is in my heart shall lie quiet at this +time.”</p> +<p>Sunna went away with the air of a happy, careless +girl, but she said many angry words to herself +as she hasted on the homeward road. “Most +of the tales tell how women are made to suffer +by the men they love––but no tale shall be made +about Sunna Vedder! <i>No!</i> <i>No!</i> It is Boris +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +Ragnor I shall turn into laughter––he has mocked +my very heart––I will never forgive him––that is +the foolish way all women take––all but Sunna +Vedder––she will neither forgive nor forget––she +will follow up this affair––yes!”</p> +<p>By such promises to herself she gradually regained +her usual reasonable poise, and with a +smiling face sought her grandfather. She found +him in his own little room sitting at a table covered +with papers. He looked up as she entered +and, in spite of his intention, answered her smile +and greeting with an equal plentitude of good will +and good temper.</p> +<p>“But I thought then, that thou would stay with +thy friend all day, and for that reason I took out +work not to be chattered over.”</p> +<p>“I will go away now. I came to thee because +things have not gone as I wanted them. Thy +counsel at such ill times is the best that can happen.”</p> +<p>Then Vedder threw down his pencil and turned +to her. “Who has given thee wrong or despite +or put thee out of the way thou wanted to take?”</p> +<p>“It is Boris Ragnor. He has sailed north with +the recruiting company––without a word to me he +has gone. He has thrown my love back in my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +face. Should thy grandchild forgive him? I am +both Vedder and Fae. How can I forgive?”</p> +<p>Vedder took out his watch and looked at the +time. “We have an hour before dinner. Sit +down and I will talk to thee. First thou shalt tell +me the very truth anent thy quarrel with Boris. +What did thou do, or say, that has so far grieved +him? Now, then, all of it. Then I can judge if +it be Boris or Sunna, that is wrong in this matter.”</p> +<p>“Listen then. Boris heard some men talking +about me––that made his temper rise––then he +heard from these men that I was dancing at +McLeod’s and he went there to see, and as it happened +I was dancing with McLeod when he entered +the room, and he walked up to me in the +dance and said thou wanted me, and he made me +come home with him and scolded me all the time +we were together. I asked him not to tell thee, +and he promised he would not––if I went there no +more. I have not danced with McLeod since, except +at Mrs. Brodie’s. Thou saw me then.”</p> +<p>“Thou should not have entered McLeod’s +house––what excuse hast thou for that fault?”</p> +<p>“Many have talked of the fault, none but thou +have asked me why or how it came that I was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +so foolish. I will tell thee the very truth. I went +to spend the day with Nana Bork––with thy consent +I went––and towards afternoon there came +an invitation from McLeod to Nana to join an informal +dance that night at eight o’clock. And +Nana told me so many pleasant things about these +little dances I could not resist her talk and I +thought if I stayed with Nana all night thou +would never know. I have heard that I stole +away out of thy house to go to McLeod’s. I did +not! I went with Nana Bork whose guest I was.”</p> +<p>“Why did thou not tell me this before?”</p> +<p>“I knew no one in Kirkwall would dare to say +to thee this or that about thy grandchild, and I +hoped thou would never know. I am sorry for +my disobedience; it has always hurt me––if thou +forgive it now, so much happier I will be.”</p> +<p>Then Adam drew her to his side and kissed her, +and words would have been of all things the most +unnecessary. But he moved a chair close to him, +and she sat down in it and laid her hand upon his +knee and he clasped and covered it with his own.</p> +<p>“Very unkindly Boris has treated thee.”</p> +<p>“He has mocked at my love before all Kirkwall. +Well, then, it is Thora Ragnor’s complacency that +affronts me most. If she would put her boasting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +into words, I could answer her; but who can answer +looks?”</p> +<p>“She is in the heaven of her first love. Thou +should understand that condition.”</p> +<p>“It is beyond my understanding; nor would I +try to understand such a lover as Ian Macrae. I +believe that he is a hypocrite––Thora is so easily +deceived–––”</p> +<p>“And thou?”</p> +<p>“I am not deceived. I see Boris just as he is, +rude and jealous and hateful, but I think him a +far finer man than Ian Macrae ever has been, or +ever will be.”</p> +<p>“Yes! Thou art right. Now then, let this affair +lie still in thy heart. I think that he will +come to see thee when the boats return from Shetland––if +not, then I shall have something to say in +the matter. I shall want my dinner very soon, and +some other thing we will talk about. Let it go until +there is a word to say or a movement to make.”</p> +<p>“I will be ready for thee at twelve o’clock.” +With a feeling of content in her heart, Sunna went +away. Had she not the Burns story to tell? Yet +she felt quite capable of restraining the incident +until she got to a point where its relation would +serve her purpose or her desire.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_THE_OLD_OLD_TROUBLE' id='CHAPTER_VI_THE_OLD_OLD_TROUBLE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>THE OLD, OLD TROUBLE</h3> +</div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>From reef and rock and skerry, over headland, ness and roe,<br /> +The coastwise lights of England watch the ships of England go.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>... a girl with sudden ebullitions,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Flashes of fun, and little bursts of song;<br /> +Petulant, pains, and fleeting pale contritions,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Mute little moods of misery and wrong.<br /> +Only a girl of Nature’s rarest making,<br /> +Wistful and sweet––and with a heart for breaking.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p class='dropcap'><span class="dcap">The</span> following two weeks were a time of +anxiety concerning Boris. The recruiting +party with whom he had gone away had said positively +they must return with whatever luck they +had in two weeks; and this interval appeared to +Sunna to be of interminable length. She spent a +good deal of the time with Thora affecting to console +her for the loss of Ian Macrae, who had left +Kirkwall for Edinburgh a few days after the departure +of Boris.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span></div> +<p>“We are ‘a couple of maidens all forlorn,’” she +sang, and though Thora disclaimed the situation, +she could not prevent her companion insisting on +the fact.</p> +<p>Thora, however, did not feel that she had any +reason for being forlorn. Ian’s love for her had +been confessed, not only to herself, but also to +her father and mother, and the marriage agreed +to with a few reservations, whose wisdom the lovers +fully acknowledged. She was receiving the +most ardent love letters by every mail and she had +not one doubt of her lover in any respect. Indeed, +her happiness so pervaded her whole person +and conduct that Sunna felt it sometimes to be +both depressing and irritating.</p> +<p>Thora, however, was the sister of Boris, she +could not quarrel with her. She had great influence +over Boris, and Sunna loved Boris––loved +him in spite of her anger and of his neglect. +Very slowly went the two weeks the enlisting ships +had fixed as the length of their absence, but the +news of their great success made their earlier return +most likely, and after the tenth day every one +was watching for them and planning a great patriotic +reception.</p> +<p>Still the two weeks went slowly away and it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +was a full day past this fixed time, and the ships +were not in port nor even in sight, nor had any +late news come from them. In the one letter +which Rahal had received from her son he said: +“The enlistment has been very satisfactory; our +return may be even a day earlier than we expected.” +So Sunna had begun to watch for the +party three days before the set time, and when it +was two days after it she was very unhappy.</p> +<p>“Why do they not come, Thora?” she asked +in a voice trembling with fear. “Do you think +they have been wrecked?”</p> +<p>“Oh, no! Nothing of the kind! They may +have sailed westward to Harris. My father thinks +so.” But she appeared so little interested that +Sunna turned to Mistress Ragnor and asked her +opinion.</p> +<p>“Well, then,” answered Rahal, “they <i>are</i> staying +longer than was expected, but who can tell +what men in a ship will do?”</p> +<p>“They will surely keep their word and promise.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps––if it seem a good thing to them. +Can thou not see? They are masters on board +ship. Once out of Lerwick Bay, the whole world +is before them. Know this, they might go East +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +or West, and say to no man ‘I ask thy leave.’ +As changeable as the sea is a sailor’s promise.”</p> +<p>“But Boris is thy son––he promised thee to be +home in two weeks. Men do not break a promise +made on their mother’s lips. How soon dost +thou expect him?”</p> +<p>“At the harbour mouth he might be, even this +very minute. I want to see my boy. I love him. +May the good God send those together who +would fain be loved!”</p> +<p>“Boris is in command of his own ship. He +was under no man’s orders. He ought not to +break his promise.”</p> +<p>“With my will, he would never do that.”</p> +<p>“Dost thou think he will go to the war with the +other men?”</p> +<p>“That he might do. What woman is there who +can read a man’s heart?”</p> +<p>“His mother!”</p> +<p>“She might, a little way––no further––just as +well ‘no further.’ Only God is wise enough, and +patient enough, to read a human heart. This is a +great mercy.” And Rahal lifted her face from +her sewing a moment and then dropped it again.</p> +<p>Almost in a whisper Sunna said “Good-bye!” +and then went her way home. She walked rapidly; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +she was in a passion of grief and mortification, +but she sang some lilting song along the +highway. As soon, however, as she passed inside +the Vedder garden gates, the singing was changed +into a scornful, angry monologue:</p> +<p>“These Ragnor women! Oh, their intolerable +good sense! So easy it is to talk sweetly and +properly when you have no great trouble and all +your little troubles are well arranged! Women +cannot comfort women. No, they can not! They +don’t want to, if they could. Like women, I do +not! Trust them, I do not! I wish that God had +made me a man! I will go to my dear old grandad!––He +will do something––so sorry I am that +I let Thora see I loved her brother––when I go +there again, I shall consider his name as the +bringer-on of yawns and boredom!”</p> +<p>An angry woman carries her heart in her +mouth; but Sunna had been trained by a wise old +man, and no one knew better than Sunna Vedder +did, when to speak and when to be silent. She +went first to her room in order to repair those +disturbances to her appearance which had been induced +by her inward heat and by her hurried +walk home so near the noontide; and half an hour +later she came down to dinner fresh and cool as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +a rose washed in the dew of the morning. Her +frock of muslin was white as snow, there was a +bow of blue ribbon at her throat, her whole appearance +was delightfully satisfying. She opened +her grandfather’s parlour and found him sitting at +a table covered with papers and little piles of gold +and silver coin.</p> +<p>“Suppose I was a thief, Grandfather?” she said.</p> +<p>“Well then, what would thou take first?”</p> +<p>“I would take a kiss!” and she laid her face +against his face, and gave him one.</p> +<p>“Now, thou could take all there is. What dost +thou want?”</p> +<p>“I want thee! Dinner is ready.”</p> +<p>“I will come. In ten minutes, I will come–––” +and in less than ten minutes he was at the dinner +table, and apparently a quite different man from +the one Sunna had invited there. He had changed +his coat, his face was happy and careless, and he +had quite forgotten the papers and the little piles +of silver and gold.</p> +<p>Sunna had said some things to Thora she was +sorry for saying; she did not intend to repeat this +fault with her grandfather. Even the subject of +Boris could lie still until a convenient hour. She +appeared, indeed, to have thrown off her anger +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +and her disappointment with the unlucky clothing +she had worn in her visit to Thora. She had even +assured herself of this change, for when it fell to +her feet she lifted it reluctantly between her finger +and thumb and threw it aside, remarking as she +did so, “I will have them all washed over again! +Soda and soap may make them more agreeable +and more fortunate.”</p> +<p>And perhaps if we take the trouble to notice the +fact, clothing does seem to have some sort of +sympathy or antagonism with its wearers. Also, it +appears to take on the mood or feeling predominant, +looking at one time crisp and perfectly +proper, at another time limp and careless, as if +the wearer informed the garment or the garment +explained the wearer. It is well known that +“Fashions are the external expression of the mental +states of a country, and that if its men and +women degenerate in their character, their fashions +become absurd.” Surely then, a sympathy +which can affect a nation has some influence upon +the individual. Sunna had noticed even in her +childhood that her dresses were lucky and unlucky, +but the why or the wherefore of the circumstance +had never troubled her. She had also noticed +that her grandfather liked and disliked certain +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +colours and modes, but she laid all their differences +to difference in age.</p> +<p>This day, however, they were in perfect accord. +He looked at her and nodded his head, and +then smilingly asked: “How did thou find thy +friend this morning?”</p> +<p>“So much in love that she had not one regret +for Boris.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, there is no reason for regret. +Boris has taken the path of honour.”</p> +<p>“That may be so, but for the time to come I +shall put little trust in him. Going such a dubious +way, he might well have stopped for a God Bless +Thee!”</p> +<p>“Would thou have said that?”</p> +<p>“Why should we ask about things impossible? +Dost thou know, Grandfather, at what time the +recruiting party passed Kirkwall?”</p> +<p>“Nobody knows. I heard music out at sea +three nights ago, just after midnight. There are +no Shetland boats carrying music. It is more +likely than not to have been the recruiting party +saluting us with music as they went by.”</p> +<p>“Yes! I think thou art right. Grandfather, +I want thee to tell me what we are fighting +about.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span></div> +<p>“Many times thou hast said ‘it made no matter +to thee.’”</p> +<p>“Now then, it is different. Since Boris and so +many of our men went away, Mistress Ragnor +and Thora talk of the war and of nothing but +the war. They know all about it. They wanted +to tell me all about it. I said thou had told me +all that was proper for me to know, and now +then, thou must make my words true. What is +England quarrelling about? It seems to me, that +somebody is always looking at her in a way she +does not think respectful enough.”</p> +<p>“This war is not England’s fault. She has done +all she could to avoid it. It is the Great Bear of +Russia who wants Turkey put out of Europe.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, I heard the Bishop say the Turks +were a disgrace to Europe, and that the Book of +Common Prayer had once contained a petition for +delivery from the Devil, the Turks, and the comet, +then flaming in the sky and believed to be threatening +destruction to the earth.”</p> +<p>“Listen, and I will tell thee the truth. The +Greek population of Turkey, its Syrians and Armenians, +are the oldest Christians in the world. +They are also the most numerous and important +class of the Sultan’s subjects. Russia also has a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +large number of Russian Christians in Turkey +over whom she wants a protectorate, but these +two influences would be thorns in the side of +Turkey. England has bought favour for the +Christians she protects, by immense loans of +money and other political advantages, but neither +the Turk nor the English want Russia’s power +inside of Turkey.”</p> +<p>“What for?”</p> +<p>“Turkey is in a bad way. A few weeks ago +the Czar said to England, ‘We have on our hands +a sick man, a very sick man. I tell you frankly, +it will be a great misfortune if one of these days he +should slip away from us, especially if it were before +all necessary arrangements were made. The +Czar wants Turkey out of his way. He wants +Constantinople for his own southern capital, he +wants the Black Sea for a Russian lake, and the +Danube for a Russian river. He wants many +other unreasonable things, which England cannot +listen to.”</p> +<p>“Well then, I think the Russian would be better +than the Turk in Europe.”</p> +<p>“One thing is sure; in the hour that England +joins Russia, Turkey will slay every Christian in +her territories. Dost thou think England will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +inaugurate a huge massacre of Christians?”</p> +<p>“That is not thinkable. Is there nothing +more?”</p> +<p>“Well then, there is India. The safety of our +Indian Empire would be endangered over the +whole line between East and West if Russia was +in Constantinople. Turkey lies across Egypt, +Syria, Asia Minor and Armenia, and above all +at Constantinople and the Straits. Dost thou +think England would ask Russia’s permission every +time she wished to go to India?”</p> +<p>“No indeed! That, itself, is a good reason for +fighting.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but the Englishman always wants a moral +backbone for his quarrel.”</p> +<p>“That is as it should be. The Armenian Christians +supply that.”</p> +<p>“But, Sunna, try and imagine to thyself a great +military despotic Power seating itself at Constantinople, +throwing its right hand over Asia Minor, +Syria and Egypt; and its left holding in an iron +grip the whole north of two continents; keeping +the Dardanelles and the Bosphorus closed whenever +it was pleased to do so, and building fleets in +Egypt; and in Armenia, commanding the desirable +road to India by the Euphrates.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span></div> +<p>“Oh, that could not be suffered! Impossible! +All the women in Kirkwall would fight against +such a condition.”</p> +<p>“Well, so matters stand, and we had been at +sword points a year ago but for Lord Aberdeen’s +cowardly, pernicious love of peace. But he is always +whining about ‘war destroying wealth and +commerce’––as if wealth and commerce were of +greater worth than national honour and justice +and mercy.”</p> +<p>“Yet, one thing is sure, Grandad; war is wasteful +and destructive–––”</p> +<p>“And one thing is truer still––it is this––<i>that +national wealth is created by peace for the very +purpose of defending the nation in war</i>. Bear +this in mind. Now, it seems to me we have had +enough of war. I see Elga coming with a dish +of good Scotch collops, and I give thee my word +that I will not spoil their savour by any unpleasant +talk.” Then he poured a little fine Glenlivet +into a good deal of water and said: “Here’s first +to the glory of God! and then to the honour of +England!” And Sunna touched his glass with +her glass and the little ceremony put both in a very +happy mood.</p> +<p>Then Sunna saw that the moment she had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +waited for had arrived and she said: “I will tell +thee a good story of Robert Burns to flavour thy +collops. Will that be to thy wish?”</p> +<p>“It is beyond my wish. Thou can not tell me +one I do not know.”</p> +<p>“I heard one today from Thora Ragnor that +I never heard thee tell.”</p> +<p>“Then it cannot be fit for thee and Thora Ragnor +to repeat.”</p> +<p>“Wilt thou hear it?”</p> +<p>“Is it about some girl he loved?”</p> +<p>“No, it is about a man he scorned. Thou must +have heard of Andrew Horner?”</p> +<p>“Never heard the creature’s name before.”</p> +<p>“Then the story will be fresh to thee. Will +thou hear it now?”</p> +<p>“As well now, as later.” For Adam really had +no expectation of hearing anything he had not already +heard and judged; and he certainly expected +nothing unusual from the proper and commonplace +Thora Ragnor. But Sunna exerted all her +facial skill and eloquence, and told the clever incident +with wonderful spirit and delightful mimicry. +Adam was enchanted; he threw down his +knife and fork and made the room ring with +laughter and triumph so genuine that Sunna––much +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +against her will––was compelled to laugh +with him. They heard the happy thunder in the +kitchen, and wondered whatever was the matter +with the Master.</p> +<p>“It is Robert Burns, his own self, and no other +man. It is the best thing I have heard from ‘the +lad that was born in Kyle!’” Vedder cried. “Ill-natured! +Not a bit of it! Just what the Horner +man deserved!” Then he took some more collops +and a fresh taste of Glenlivet, and anon broke +into laughter again.</p> +<p>“Oh! but I wish I was in Edinburgh tonight! +There’s men there I would go to see and have my +laugh out with them.”</p> +<p>“Grandfather, why should we not go to Edinburgh +next winter? You could board me with +Mistress Brodie, and come every day to sort our +quarrels and see that I was properly treated. +Then you could have your crow over the ignoramuses +who did not know such a patent Burns +story; and I could take lessons in music and singing, +and be learning something or seeing something, +every hour of my life.”</p> +<p>“And what about Boris?”</p> +<p>“The very name of Boris tires my tongue! I +can do without Boris.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></div> +<p>“Well, then, that is good! Thou art learning +‘the grand habit of doing without.’”</p> +<p>“Wilt thou take me to Edinburgh? My mother +would like thee to do that. I think I deserve it, +Grandfather; yes, and so I ask thee.”</p> +<p>“If I was going, I should have no mind to go +without thee. One thing I wish to know––in what +way hast thou deserved it?”</p> +<p>“I did not expect thee to ask me a question like +that. Have I fretted and pined, and forgot to +eat and sleep, and gone dowdy and slovenly, because +my lover has been fool enough to desert me? +Well, then, that is what any other girl would have +done. But because I am of thy blood and stock, +I take what comes to me as part of my day’s work, +and make no more grumble on the matter than one +does about bad weather. Is that not the truth?”</p> +<p>“One thing is sure––thou art the finest all round +girl in the Orcades.”</p> +<p>“Then it seems to me thou should take me to +Edinburgh. I want that something, that polish, +only great cities can give me.”</p> +<p>“Blessings on thee! All Edinburgh can give, +thou shalt have! But it is my advice to thee to +remain here until Mrs. Brodie goes back, then go +thou with her.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span></div> +<p>“That will be what it should be. Mrs. Brodie, +I feel, will be my stepmother; and–––”</p> +<p>“She will never step past thee. Fear not!”</p> +<p>“Nor will any one––man or woman––step between +thee and me! Doubt me not!”</p> +<p>“Well, then, have thy way. I give thee my +word to take thee to Edinburgh in the autumn. +Thou shalt either stay with Mrs. Brodie or at the +Queen’s Hotel on Prince’s Street, with old Adam +Vedder.”</p> +<p>“Best of all is thy last offer. I will stay with +thee. I am used to men’s society. Women bore +me.”</p> +<p>“Women bore me also.”</p> +<p>“Know this, there are three women who do not +bore thee. Shall I speak their names?”</p> +<p>“I will not hinder thee.”</p> +<p>“Sunna Vedder?”</p> +<p>“I love her. She cannot bore me.”</p> +<p>“Rahal Ragnor?”</p> +<p>“I respect her. She does not bore me––often.”</p> +<p>“Yes, that is so; it is but seldom thou sees her. +Well, then, Barbara Brodie?”</p> +<p>“I once loved her. She can never be indifferent +to me.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span></div> +<p>“Thou hast told me the truth and I will not +follow up this catechism.”</p> +<p>“For that favour, I am thy debtor. I might not +always have been so truthful. Now, then, be honest +with me. What wilt thou do all the summer, +with no lover to wait on thy whims and fancies?”</p> +<p>“On thee I shall rely. Where thou goes, I will +go, and if thou stay at home, with thee I will stay. +Thou can read to me. I have never heard any of +our great Sagas and that is a shame. I complain +of that neglect in my education! I heard Maximus +Grant recite from ‘The Banded Men and +Haakon the Good,’ when I was in Edinburgh, and +I said to myself, ‘how much finer is this, than opera +songs, sung with a Scotch burr, in the Italian; or +than English songs, sung by Scotch people who +pronounce English after the Scotch fashion!’ +Then I made up my mind that this coming winter +I would let Edinburgh drawing-rooms hear the +songs of Norse warriors; the songs in which the +armour rattles and the swords shine!”</p> +<p>“That, indeed, will befit thee! Now, then, for +the summer, keep thyself well in hand. Say nothing +of thy plans, for if but once the wind catches +them, they will soon be for every one to talk to +death.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span></div> +<p>Adam was finishing his plate of rice pudding +and cream when he gave this advice; and with it, +he moved his chair from the table and said: +“Come into the garden. I want to smoke. Thou +knows a good dinner deserves a pipe, and a bad +one demands it.”</p> +<p>Then they went into the garden and talked of +the flowers and the young vegetables, and said not +a word of Edinburgh and the Sagas that the winds +could catch and carry round to human folk for +clash and gossip. And when the pipe was out, +Adam said: “Now I am going into the town. +That Burns story is on my lips, my teeth +cannot keep my tongue behind them much +longer.”</p> +<p>“A good time will be thine. I wish that I +could go with thee.”</p> +<p>“What wilt thou do?”</p> +<p>“Braid my hair and dress myself. Then I shall +take out thy Saga of ‘The Banded Men’ and study +the men who were banded, and find them out, in +all their clever ways. Then I can show them to +others. If I get tired of them––and I do get tired +of men very quickly––I will put on my bonnet and +tippet, and go and carry Mrs. Brodie thy respectful–––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span></div> +<p>“Take care, Sunna!”</p> +<p>“Good wishes! I can surely go so far.”</p> +<p>“Know this––every step on that road may lead +to danger––and thou cannot turn back and tread +them the other way. There now, be off! I will +talk with thee no longer.”</p> +<p>Sunna said something about Burns in reply, but +Vedder heard her not. He was satisfying his +vocal impatience by whistling softly and very +musically “The Garb of Old Gaul,” and Sunna +watched and listened a moment, and then in something +of a hurry went to her room. A new +thought had come to her––one which pleased her +very much; and she proceeded to dress herself accordingly.</p> +<p>“None too good is my Easter gown,” she said +pleasantly to herself; “and I can take Eric a basket +of the oranges grandfather brought home today. +A treat to the dear little lad they will be. +Before me is a long afternoon, and I shall find +the proper moment to ask the advice of Maximus +about ‘The Banded Men.’” So with inward +smiles she dressed herself, and then took +the highway in a direction not very often taken +by her.</p> +<p>It led her to a handsome mansion overlooking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +the Venice of the Orcades, the village and the wonderful +Bay of Kirkwall, into which</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='ralign cg'>... by night and day,</p> +<p class='cg'>The great sea water finds its way<br /> +Through long, long windings of the hills.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>The house had a silent look, and its enclosure was +strangely quiet, though kept in exquisite order and +beauty. As she approached, a lady about fifty +years old came to the top of the long, white steps +to meet her, appearing to be greatly pleased with +her visit.</p> +<p>“Only at dinner time Max was speaking of thee! +And Eric said his sweetheart had forgotten him, +and wondering we all were, what had kept thee so +long away.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, thou knowest about the war and +the enlisting––everyone, in some way, has been +touched by the changes made.”</p> +<p>“True is that! Quickly thou must come in, for +Eric has both second-sight and hearing, and no +doubt he knows already that here thou art–––” +and talking thus as she went, Mrs. Beaton led the +way up a wide, light stairway. Even as Mrs. Beaton +was speaking a thin, eager voice called Sunna’s +name, a door flew open, and a man, beautiful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +as a dream-man, stood in the entrance to welcome +them. And here the word “beautiful” need not +to be erased; it was the very word that sprang +naturally from the heart to the lips of every one +when they met Maximus Grant. No Greek sculptor +ever dreamed of a more perfect form and +face; the latter illumined by noticeable grey eyes, +contemplative and mystical, a face, thoughtful and +winning, and constantly breaking into kind smiles.</p> +<p>He took Sunna’s hand, and they went quickly +forward to a boy of about eleven years old, whom +Sunna kissed and petted. The little lad was in a +passion of delight. He called her “his sweetheart! +his wife! his Queen!” and made her take +off her bonnet and cloak and sit down beside him. +He was half lying in a softly cushioned chair; +there was a large globe at his side, and an equally +large atlas, with other books on a small table near +by, and Max’s chair was close to the whole arrangement. +He was a fair, lovely boy, with the +seraphic eyes that sufferers from spinal diseases +so frequently possess––eyes with the look in them +of a Conqueror of Pain. But also, on his young +face there was the solemn Trophonean pallor +which signs those who daily dare “to look at death +in the cave.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></div> +<p>“Max and I have been to the Greek islands,” +he said, “and Sunna, as soon as I am grown up, +and am quite well, I shall ask thee to marry me, +and then we will go to one of the loveliest of them +and live there. Max thinks that would be just +right.”</p> +<p>“Thou little darling,” answered Sunna, “when +thou art a man, if thou ask me to marry thee, I +shall say ‘yes!’”</p> +<p>“Of course thou wilt. Sunna loves Eric?”</p> +<p>“I do, indeed, Eric! I think we should be very +happy. We should never quarrel or be cross with +each other.”</p> +<p>“Oh! I would not like that! If we did not +quarrel, there would be no making-up. I remember +papa and mamma making-up their little tiffs, +and they seemed to be very happy about it––and +to love each other ever so much better for the tiff +and the make-up. I think we must have little quarrels, +Sunna; and then, long, long, happy makings-up.”</p> +<p>“Very well, Eric; only, thou must make the +quarrel. With thee I could not quarrel.”</p> +<p>“I should begin it in this way: ‘Sunna, I do not +approve of thy dancing with––say––Ken McLeod.’ +Then thou wilt say: ‘I shall dance with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +whom I like, Eric’; and I will reply: ‘thou art my +wife and I will not allow thee to dance with McLeod’; +and then thou wilt be naughty and saucy +and proud, and I shall have to be angry and masterful; +and as thou art going out of the room in a +terrible temper, I shall say, ‘Sunna!’ in a sweet +voice, and look at thee, and thou wilt look at me, +with those heavenly eyes, and then I shall open +my arms and thou wilt fly to my embrace, and the +making-up will begin.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, that will be delightful, Eric, but +thou must not accuse me of anything so bad as +dancing with Mr. McLeod.”</p> +<p>“Would that be bad to thee?”</p> +<p>“Very bad, indeed! I fear I would never try +to have a ‘make-up’ with any one who thought I +would dance with him.”</p> +<p>“Dost thou dislike him?”</p> +<p>“That is neither here nor there. He is a Scot. +I may marry like the rest of the world, but while +my life days last, Sunna Vedder will not marry a +Scot.”</p> +<p>“Yes––but there was some talk that way. +My aunt heard it. My aunt hears everything.”</p> +<p>“I will tell thee, talk that way was all lies. No +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +one will Sunna Vedder marry, that is not of her +race.” Then she put her arms round Eric, and +kissed his wan face, calling him “her own little +Norseman!”</p> +<p>“Tell me, Sunna, what is happening in the +town?” said he.</p> +<p>“Well, then, not much now. Men are talking +of the war, and going to the war, and empty is the +town. About the war, art thou sorry?”</p> +<p>“No, I am glad–––</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“How glorious the valiant, sword in hand,<br /> +In front of battle for their native land!”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>And he raised his small, thin hands, and his +face glowed, and he looked like a young St. +Michael.</p> +<p>Then Max lifted the globe and books aside and +put his chair close to his brother’s. “Eric has the +soul of a soldier,” he said, “and the sound of +drums and trumpets stirs him like the cry of fire.”</p> +<p>“And so it happens, Mr. Grant, that we have +much noise lately from the trumpets and the fife +and drums.”</p> +<p>“Yes, man is a military animal, he loves +parade,” answered Max.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></div> +<p>“But in this war, there is much more than +parade.”</p> +<p>“You are right, Miss Vedder. It was +prompted by that gigantic heart-throb with which, +even across oceans, we feel each other’s rights and +wrongs. And in this way we learn best that we +are men and brothers. Can a man do more for +a wrong than give his life to right it?”</p> +<p>Then Eric cried out with hysterical passion: “I +wish only that I might have my way with Aberdeen! +Oh, the skulking cowards who follow him! +Max! Max! If you would mount our father’s +big war horse and hold me in front of you and +ride into the thick of the battle, and let me look on +the cold light of the lifted swords! Oh, the shining +swords! They shake! They cry out! The +lives of men are in them! Max! Max! I want +to die––on a––battlefield!”</p> +<p>And Max held the weeping boy in his arms, +and bowed his head over him and whispered +words too tender and sacred to be written +down.</p> +<p>For a while Eric was exhausted; he lay still +watching his brother and Sunna, and listening to +their conversation. They were talking of the excitement +in London, and of the pressure of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +clergy putting down the reluctancies and falterings +of the peace men.</p> +<p>“Have you heard, Miss Vedder,” said Grant, +“that one of the bishops decided England’s call +to war by a wonderful sermon in St. Paul’s?”</p> +<p>“I am sorry to be ignorant. Tell me.”</p> +<p>“He preached from Jeremiah, Fourth Chapter +and Sixth Verse; and his closing cry was from +Nahum, Second Chapter and First Verse, ‘Set up +the standard toward Zion. Stay not, for I will +bring evil from the north and a great destruction,’ +and he closed with Nahum’s advice, ‘He that +dasheth in pieces is come up before thy face, keep +the munition, watch the way, make thy loins +strong, fortify thy power mightily.’”</p> +<p>“Well, then, how went the advice?”</p> +<p>“I know not exactly. It is hard to convince +commerce and cowardice that at certain times war +is the highest of all duties. Neither of them understand +patriotism; and yet every trembling pacifist +in time of war is a misfortune to his country.”</p> +<p>“And the country will give them––what?” +asked Sunna.</p> +<p>“The cold, dead damnation of a disgrace they +will never outlive,” answered Max.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span></div> +<p>There was a sharp cry from Eric at these +words, and then a passionate childish exclamation––“Not +bad enough! Not bad enough!” he +screamed. “Oh, if I had a sword and a strong +hand! I would cut them up in slices!” Then with +an hysterical cry the boy fell backward.</p> +<p>In an instant Max had him in his arms and was +whispering words of promise and consolation, and +just then, fortunately, Mrs. Beaton entered with +a servant who was carrying a service of tea and +muffins. It was a welcome diversion and both +Max and Sunna were glad of it. Max gently unloosed +Eric’s hand from Sunna’s clasp and then +they both looked at the child. He had fallen into +a sleep of exhaustion and Max said, “It is well. +When he is worn out with feeling, such sleeps +alone save his life. I am weary, also. Let us +have a cup of tea.” So they sat down and talked +of everything but the war––“He would hear us +in his sleep,” said Max, “and he has borne all he +is able to bear today.” Then Sunna said:</p> +<p>“Right glad am I to put a stop to such a trouble-raising +subject. War is a thing by itself, and all +that touches it makes people bereft of their senses +or some other good thing. Here has come news +of Thora Ragnor’s hurried marriage, but no one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +knows or cares about the strange things happening +at our doorstep. Such haste is not good I +fear.”</p> +<p>“Does Ragnor approve of it?” asked Mrs. +Beaton.</p> +<p>“Thora’s marriage is all right. They fell in +love with each other the moment they met. No +other marriage is possible for either. It is this, +or none at all,” answered Sunna.</p> +<p>“I heard the man was the son of a great Edinburgh +preacher.”</p> +<p>“Yes, the Rev. Dr. Macrae, of St. Mark’s.”</p> +<p>“That is what I heard. He is a good man, but +a very hard one.”</p> +<p>“If he is hard, he is not good.”</p> +<p>“Thou must not say that, little Miss; it may be +the Episcopalian belief, but we Calvinists have a +stronger faith––a faith fit for men and soldiers +of the Lord.”</p> +<p>“There! Mrs. Beaton, you are naming soldiers. +That is against our agreement to drop war +talk. About Macrae I know nothing. He is not +aware that anyone but Thora Ragnor lives; and +I was not in the least attracted by him––his black +hair and black eyes repelled me––I dislike such +men.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></div> +<p>“Will they live in Edinburgh?”</p> +<p>“I believe they will live in Kirkwall. Mrs. +Ragnor owns a pretty house, which she will give +them. She is going to put it in order and furnish +it from the roof to the foundation. Thora is busy +about her napery––the finest of Irish linen and damask. +Now then, I must hurry home. My grandfather +will be waiting his tea.”</p> +<p>Max rose with her. He looked at his little +brother and said: “Aunt, he will sleep now +for a few hours, will you watch him till I +return?”</p> +<p>“Will I not? You know he is as safe with me +as yourself, Max.”</p> +<p>So with an acknowledging smile of content, he +took Sunna’s hand and led her slowly down the +stairway. There was a box running all across the +sill of the long window, lighting the stairs, and it +was full and running over with the delicious muck +plant. Sunna laid her face upon its leaves for a +moment, and the whole place was thrilled with its +heavenly perfume. Then she smiled at Max and +his heart trembled with joy; yet he said a little +abruptly––“Let us make haste. The night grows +cloudy.”</p> +<p>Their way took them through the village, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +Sunna knew that she would, in all likelihood, be +the first woman ever seen in Maximus Grant’s company. +The circumstance was pleasant to her, and +she carried herself with an air and manner that +she readily caught and copied from him. She +knew that there was a face at every window, but +she did not turn her head one way or the other. +Max was talking to her about the Sagas and she +had a personal interest in the Sagas, and any ambition +she had to be socially popular was as yet +quite undeveloped.</p> +<p>At the point where the Vedder and Ragnor +roads crossed each other, two men were standing, +talking. They were Ragnor and Vedder, and +Ragnor was at once aware of the identity of the +couple approaching; but Vedder appeared so unaware, +that Ragnor remarked: “I see Sunna, Vedder, +coming up the road, and with her is Colonel +Max Grant.”</p> +<p>“But why ‘Colonel,’ Ragnor?”</p> +<p>“When General Grant died his son was a colonel +in the Life Guards. He left the army to care +for his brother. I heard that the Queen praised +him for doing so.”</p> +<p>Then the couple were so close, that it was impossible +to affect ignorance of their presence any +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +longer; and the old men turned and saluted the +young couple. “I thank thee, Colonel,” said Vedder, +as he “changed hats” with the Colonel, “but +now I can relieve thee of the charge thou hast +taken. I am going home and Sunna will go with +me; but if thou could call on an old man about +some business, there is a matter I would like to +arrange with thee.”</p> +<p>“I could go home with you now, Vedder, if +that would be suitable.”</p> +<p>“Nay, it would be too much for me tonight. It +is concerning that waste land on the Stromness +road, near the little bridge. I would like to build +a factory there.”</p> +<p>“That would be to my pleasure and advantage. +I will call on you and talk over the matter, at any +time you desire.”</p> +<p>“Well and good! Say tomorrow at two +o’clock.”</p> +<p>“Three o’clock would be better for me.”</p> +<p>“So, let it be.” Then he took Sunna’s hand +and she understood that her walk with Grant was +over. She thanked Max for his courtesy, sent a +message to Eric, and then said her good night +with a look into his eyes which dirled in his heart +for hours afterwards. Some compliments passed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +between the men and then she found herself walking +home with her grandfather.</p> +<p>“Thou ought not to have seen me, Grandfather,” +she said a little crossly, “I was having +such a lovely walk.”</p> +<p>“I did not want to see thee, and have I not arranged +for thee something a great deal better on +tomorrow’s afternoon?”</p> +<p>“One never knows–––”</p> +<p>“Listen; he is to come at three o’clock, it will +be thy fault if he leaves at four. Thou can make +tea for him––thou can walk in the greenhouse and +the garden with him, thou can sing for him––no, +let him sing for thee––thou can ask him to help +thee with ‘The Banded Men’––and if he goes away +before eight o’clock I will say to thee––‘take the +first man that asks thee for thou hast no woman-witchery +with which to pick and choose!’ Grant +is a fine man. If thou can win him, thou wins +something worth while. He has always held himself +apart. His father was much like him. All +of them soldiers and proud as men are made, these +confounded, democratic days.”</p> +<p>“And what of Boris?” asked Sunna.</p> +<p>“May Boris rest wherever he is! Thou could +not compare Boris with Maximus Grant.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span></div> +<p>“That is the truth. In many ways they are not +comparable. Boris is a rough, passionate man. +Grant is a gentleman. Always I thought there +was something common in me; that must be the +reason why I prefer Boris.”</p> +<p>“To vex me, thou art saying such untruthful +words. I know thy contradictions! Go now and +inquire after my tea. I am in want of it.”</p> +<p>During tea, nothing further was said of Maximus +Grant; but Sunna was in a very merry mood, +and Adam watched her, and listened to her in +a philosophical way;––that is, he tried to make +out amid all her persiflage and bantering talk what +was her ruling motive and intent––a thing no one +could have been sure of, unless they had heard +her talking to herself––that mysterious confidence +in which we all indulge, and in which we all tell +ourselves the truth. Sunna was undressing her +hair and folding away her clothing as she visited +this confessional, but her revelations were certainly +honest, even if fragmentary, and full of +doubt and uncertainty.</p> +<p>“Grant, indeed!” she exclaimed, “I am not +ready for Grant––I believe I am afraid of the +man––he would make me over––make me like +himself––in a month he would do it––I like Boris +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +best! I should quarrel with Boris, of course, and +we should say words neither polite nor kind to +each other; but then Boris would do as that blessed +child said, ‘Look at me’; and I should look at him, +and the making-up would begin. Heigh-ho! I +wish it could begin tonight!” She was silent then +for a few minutes, and in a sadder voice added––“with +Max I should become an angel––and I +should have a life without a ripple––I would hate +it, just as I hate the sea when it lies like a mirror +under the sunshine––then I always want to scream +out for a great north wind and the sea in a passion, +shattering everything in its way. If I got +into that mood with Max, we should have a most +unpleasant time–––” and she laughed and tossed +her pillows about, and then having found a comfortable +niche in one of them, she tucked her handsome +head into it and in a few moments the sleep +of youth and perfect health lulled her into a secret +garden in the Land of Dreams.</p> +<p>The next day Sunna appeared to be quite oblivious +regarding Grant’s visit and Vedder was +too well acquainted with his granddaughter to +speak of it. He only noticed that she was dressed +with a peculiar simplicity and neatness. At three +o’clock Grant was promptly at the Vedder House, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +and at half-past four the land in question had been +visited and subsequently bought and sold. Then +the cup of tea came in, and the walk in the garden +followed, and at six there was an ample meal, +and during the singing that followed it, Vedder +fell fast asleep, as was his custom, and when he +awoke Grant was just going and the clock was +striking ten. Vedder looked at Sunna and there +was no need for him to speak.</p> +<p>“It was ‘The Banded Men,’” said Sunna with a +straight look at her grandfather.</p> +<p>“Well, then, I know a woman who is a match +for any number of ‘banded men.’”</p> +<p>“And in all likelihood that woman will be a +Vedder. Good night, Grandfather.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_THE_CALL_OF_WAR' id='CHAPTER_VII_THE_CALL_OF_WAR'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>THE CALL OF WAR</h3> +</div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>I came not to send peace but a sword.<br /></p> +<p class='ralign cg'>––<i>Matt. x, 34.</i></p> +<p class='cg'><br /> +For when I note how noble Nature’s form<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Under the war’s red pain, I deem it true<br /> +That He who made the earthquake and the storm,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Perchance made battles too.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p class='dropcap'><span class="dcap">The</span> summer passed rapidly away for it was +full of new interests. Thora’s wedding was +to take place about Christmas or New Year, and +there were no ready-made garments in those days; +so all of her girl friends were eager to help her +needle. Sunna spent half the day with her and all +their small frets and jealousies were forgotten. +Early in the morning the work was lifted, and all +day long it went happily on, to their light-hearted +hopes and dreams. Then in June and September +Ian came to Kirkwall to settle his account +with McLeod, and at the same time, he remained +a week as the Ragnors’ guest. There was also +Sunna’s intended visit to Edinburgh to talk about, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +and there was never a day in which the war and +its preparations did not make itself prominent.</p> +<p>One of the pleasantest episodes of this period +occurred early and related to Sunna. One morning +she received a small box from London, and +she was so amazed at the circumstance, that she +kept examining the address and wondering “who +could have sent it,” instead of opening the box. +However, when this necessity had been observed, +it revealed to her a square leather case, almost +like those used for jewelry, and her heart leaped +high with expectation. It was something, however, +that pleased her much more than jewelry; +it was a likeness of Boris, a daguerreotype––the +first that had ever reached Kirkwall. A narrow +scrap of paper was within the clasp, on which +Boris had written, “I am all thine! Forget me +not!”</p> +<p>Sunna usually made a pretense of despising +anything sentimental but this example filled her +heart with joy and satisfaction. And after it, she +took far greater pleasure in all the circumstances +relating to Thora’s marriage; for she had gained a +personal interest in them. Even the details of the +ceremony were now discussed and arranged in accord +with Sunna’s taste and suggestions.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span></div> +<p>“The altar and nave must be decorated with +flags and evergreens and all the late flowers we +can secure,” she said.</p> +<p>“There will not be many flowers, I fear,” answered +Mistress Ragnor.</p> +<p>“The Grants have a large greenhouse. I shall +ask them to save all they possibly can. Maximus +Grant delights in doing a kindness.”</p> +<p>“Then thou must ask him, Sunna. He is thy +friend––perhaps thy lover. So the talk goes.”</p> +<p>“Let them talk! My lover is far away. God +save him!”</p> +<p>“Where then?”</p> +<p>“Where all good and fit men are gone––to the +trenches. For my lover is much of a man, strong +and brave-hearted. He adores his country, his +home, and his kindred. He counts honour far +above money; and liberty, more than life. My +lover will earn the right to marry the girl he +loves, and become the father of free men and +women!” And Rahal answered proudly and tenderly:</p> +<p>“Thou art surely meaning my son Boris.”</p> +<p>“Indeed, thou art near to the truth.”</p> +<p>Then Rahal put her arm round Sunna and +kissed her. “Thou hast made me happy,” she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +said, and Sunna made her still more happy, when +she took out of the little bag fastened to her belt +the daguerreotype and showed her the strong, +handsome face of her soldier-sailor boy.</p> +<p>During all this summer Sunna was busy and +regular. She was at the Ragnors’ every day until +the noon hour. Then she ate dinner with her +grandfather, who was as eager to discuss the news +and gossip Sunna had heard, as any old woman in +Kirkwall. He said: “Pooh! Pooh!” and “Nonsense!” +but he listened to it, and it often served +his purpose better than words of weight and wisdom.</p> +<p>In the afternoons Mistress Brodie was to visit, +and the winter in Edinburgh to talk over. Coming +home in time to take tea with her grandfather, +she devoted the first hour after the meal to practising +her best songs, and these lullabyed the old +man to a sleep which often lasted until “The +Banded Men” were attended to. It might then be +ten o’clock and she was ready to sleep.</p> +<p>All through these long summer days, Thora was +the natural source of interest and the inciting element +of all the work and chatter that turned the +Ragnor house upside down and inside out; but +Thora was naturally shy and quiet, and Sunna +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +naturally expressive and presuming; and it was +difficult for their companions to keep Thora and +Sunna in their proper places. Every one found +it difficult. Only when Ian was present, did Sunna +take her proper secondary place and Ian, though +the most faithful and attentive of lovers by mail, +had only been able to pay Thora one personal +visit. This visit had occurred at the end of June +and he was expected again at the end of September. +The year was now approaching that time and +the Ragnor household was in a state of happy expectation.</p> +<p>It was an unusual condition and Sunna said irritably: +“They go on about this stranger as if he +were the son of Jupiter––and poor Boris! They +never mention him, though there has been a big +battle and Boris may have been in it. If Boris +were killed, it is easy to see that this Ian Macrae +would step into his place!”</p> +<p>“Nothing of that kind could happen! In thy +own heart keep such foolish thoughts,” replied +Vedder.</p> +<p>So the last days of September were restless and +not very happy, for there was a great storm prevailing, +and the winds roared and the rain fell in +torrents and the sea looked as if it had gone mad. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +Before the storm there was a report of a big battle, +but no details of it had reached them. For +the Pentland Firth had been in its worst equinoctial +temper and the proviso added to all Orkney +sailing notices, “weather permitting,” had been in +full force for nearly a week.</p> +<p>But at length the storm was over and everyone +was on the lookout for the delayed shipping. +Thora was pale with intense excitement but all +things were in beautiful readiness for the expected +guest. And Ian did not disappoint the +happy hopes which called him. He was on the +first ship that arrived and it was Conall Ragnor’s +hand he clasped as his feet touched the dry +land.</p> +<p>Such a home-coming as awaited him––the cheerful +room, the bountifully spread table, the warm +welcome, the beauty and love, mingling with that +sense of peace and rest and warm affection which +completely satisfies the heart. Would such a blissful +hour ever come again to him in this life?</p> +<p>His pockets were full of newspapers, and they +were all shouting over the glorious opening of the +war. The battle of Alma had been fought and +won; and the troops were ready and waiting for +Inkerman. England’s usual calm placidity had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +vanished in exultant rejoicing. “An English gentleman +told me,” said Ian, “that you could not escape +the chimes of joyful bells in any part of the +ringing island.’”</p> +<p>Vedder had just entered the room and he stood +still to listen to these words. Then he said: “Men +differ. For the first victory let all the bells of +England ring if they want to. We Norsemen like +to keep our bell-ringing until the fight is over and +they can chime <i>Peace</i>. And how do you suppose, +Ian Macrae, that the English and French will +like to fight together?”</p> +<p>“Well enough, sir, no doubt. Why not?”</p> +<p>“Of Waterloo I was thinking. Have the +French forgotten it? Ian, it is the very first time +in all the history we have, that Frenchmen ever +fought with Englishmen in a common cause. Natural +enemies they have been for centuries, fighting +each other with a very good will whenever +they got a chance. Have they suddenly become +friends? Have they forgot Waterloo?” and he +shook his wise old head doubtfully.</p> +<p>“Who can tell, sir, but when the English conquer +any nation, they feel kindly to them and +usually give them many favours?”</p> +<p>“Well, then, every one knows that the same is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +both her pleasure and her folly; and dearly she +pays for it.”</p> +<p>“Ian,” said Mistress Ragnor, “are the English +ships now in the Black Sea? And if so, do you +think Boris is with them?”</p> +<p>“About Boris, I do not know. He told me he +was carrying ‘material of war.’ The gentleman +of whom I spoke went down to Spithead to see +them off. Her Majesty, in the royal yacht, <i>Fairy</i>, +suddenly appeared. Then the flagship hauled +home every rope by the silent ‘all-at-once’ action +of one hundred men. Immediately the rigging of +the ships was black with sailors, but there was not +a sound heard except an occasional command––sharp, +short and imperative––or the shrill order +of the boatswain’s whistle. The next moment, +the Queen’s yacht shot past the fleet and literally +led it out to sea. Near the Nab, the royal yacht +hove to and the whole fleet sailed past her, carried +swiftly out by a fine westerly breeze. Her +Majesty waved her handkerchief as they passed +and it is said she wept. If she had not wept she +would have been less than a woman and a +queen.”</p> +<p>While Vedder and Ragnor were discussing this +incident, and comparing it with Cleopatra at the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +head of her fleet and Boadicea at the head of her +British army and Queen Elizabeth at Tewksbury +reviewing her army, Mrs. Ragnor and Thora left +the room. Ian quickly followed. There was a +bright fire in the parlour, and the piano was open. +Ian naturally drifted there and then Thora’s voice +was wanted in the song. When it was finished, +Mrs. Ragnor had been called out and they were +alone. And though Mrs. Ragnor came back at +intervals, they were practically alone during the +rest of the evening.</p> +<p>What do lovers talk about when they are alone? +Ah! their conversation is not to be written down. +How unwritable it is! How wise it is! How +foolish when written down! How supremely satisfying +to the lovers themselves! Surely it is only +the “baby-talk” of the wisdom not yet comprehensible +to human hearts! We often say of certain +events; “I have no words to describe what I +felt”––and who will find out or invent the heavenly +syllables that can adequately describe the divine +passion of two souls, that suddenly find their +real mate––find the soul that halves their soul, +created for them, created with them, often lost or +missed through diverse reincarnations; but sooner +or later found again and known as soon as found +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +to both. No wooing is necessary in such a case––they +meet, they look, they love, and naturally and +immediately take up their old, but unforgotten +love patois. They do not need to learn its sweet, +broken syllables, its hand clasps and sighs, its +glances and kisses; they are more natural to them +than was the grammared language they learned +through years of painful study.</p> +<p>Ian and Thora hardly knew how the week went. +Every one respected their position and left them +very much to their own inclinations. It led them +to long, solitary walks, and to the little green skiff +on the moonlit bay, and to short visits to Sunna, +in order, mainly, that they might afterwards tell +each other how far sweeter and happier they were +alone.</p> +<p>They never tired of each other, and every day +they recounted the number of days that had to +pass ere Ian could call himself free from the McLeod +contract. They were to marry immediately +and Ian would go into Ragnor’s business as bookkeeper. +Their future home was growing more +beautiful every day. It was going to be the prettiest +little home on the island. There was a good +garden attached to it and a small greenhouse to +save the potted plants in the winter. Ragnor had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +ordered its furniture from a famous maker in +Aberdeen, and Rahal was attending with love and +skill to all those incidentals of modern housekeeping, +usually included in such words as silver, +china, napery, ornaments, and kitchen-utensils. +They were much interested in it and went every +fine day to observe its progress. Yet their interest +in the house was far inferior to their interest +in each other, and Sunna may well be excused for +saying to her grandfather:</p> +<p>“They are the most conceited couple in the +world! In fact, the world belongs to them and +all the men and women in it––the sun and the +moon are made new for them, and they have the +only bit of wisdom going. I hope I may be able +to say ‘yes’ to all they claim until Saturday +comes.”</p> +<p>“These are the ways of love, Sunna.”</p> +<p>“Then I shall not walk in them.”</p> +<p>“Thou wilt walk in the way appointed thee.”</p> +<p>“Pure Calvinism is that, Grandfather.”</p> +<p>“So be it. I am a Calvinist about birth, death +and marriage. They are the events in life about +which God interferes. His will and design is +generally evident.”</p> +<p>“And quite as evident, Grandfather, is the fact +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +that a great many people interfere with His will +and design.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Sunna, because our will is free. Yet if +our will crosses God’s will, crucifixion of some kind +is sure to follow.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, today is Friday. The week has +got itself over nearly; and tomorrow will be partly +free, for Ian goes to Edinburgh at ten o’clock. +Very proper is that! Such an admirable young +man ought only to live in a capitol city.”</p> +<p>“If these are thy opinions, keep them to thyself. +Very popular is the young man.”</p> +<p>“Grandfather, dost thou think that I am walking +in ankle-tights yet? I can talk as the crowd +talks, and I can talk to a sensible man like thee. +Tomorrow brings release. I am glad, for Thora +has forgotten me. I feel that very much.”</p> +<p>“Thou art jealous.”</p> +<p>Vedder’s assertion was near the truth, for undeniably +Ian and Thora had been careless of any +one but themselves. Yet their love was so vital +and primitive, so unaffected and sincere, that it +touched the sympathies of all. In this cold, far-northern +island, it had all the glow and warmth of +some rose-crowned garden of a tropical paradise. +But such special days are like days set +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +apart; they do not fit into ordinary life and cannot +be continued long under any circumstances. So the +last day came and Thora said:</p> +<p>“Mother, dear, it is a day in a thousand for +beauty, and we are going to get Aunt Brodie’s +carriage to ride over to Stromness and see the +queer, old town, and the Stones of Stenness.”</p> +<p>“Go not near them. If you go into the cathedral +you go expecting some good to come to you; +for angels may be resting in its holy aisles, ready +and glad to bless you. What will you ask of the +ghosts among the Stones of Stenness? Is there +any favour you would take from the Baal and +Moloch worshipped with fire and blood among +them?”</p> +<p>“Why, Mother,” said Thora, “I have known +many girls who went with their lovers to Stenness +purposely to join their hands through the hole in +Woden’s Stone and thus take oath to love each +other forever.”</p> +<p>“Thou and Ian will take that oath in the holy +church of St. Magnus.”</p> +<p>“That is what we wish, Mother,” said Ian. +“We wish nothing less than that.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, go and see the queer, old, old +town, and go to the Mason’s Arms, and you will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +get there a good dinner. After it ride slowly back. +Father will be home before six and must have his +meal at once.”</p> +<p>“That is the thing we shall do, Mother. Ian +thought it would be so romantic to take a lunch +with us and eat it among the Stones of Stenness. +But the Mason’s Arms will be better. The Masons +are good men, Mother?”</p> +<p>“In all their generations, good men. Thy +father is a Mason in high standing.”</p> +<p>“Yes, that is so! Then the Mason’s Arms may +be lucky to us?”</p> +<p>“We make things lucky or unlucky by our willing +and doing; but even so, it is not lucky to defy +or deny what the dead have once held to be good +or bad.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, why, Mother?”</p> +<p>“Not now, will we talk of whys and wherefores. +It is easier to believe than to think. Take, in this +last day of Love’s seven days, the full joy of your +lives and ask not why of anyone.”</p> +<p>So the lovers went off gaily to see the land-locked +bay and the strange old town of Stromness; +and the house was silent and lonely without +them and Rahal wished that her husband would +come home and talk with her, for her soul was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +under a cloud of presentiments and she said to +herself after a morning of fretful, inefficient work: +“Oh, how much easier it is to love God than it is +to trust Him. Are not my dear ones in His care? +Yet about them I am constantly worrying; though +perfectly well I know that in any deluge that may +come, God will find an ark for those who love +and trust Him. Boris knows––Boris knows––I +have told him.”</p> +<p>About three o’clock she went to the window and +looked towards the town. Much to her astonishment +she saw her husband coming home at a speed +far beyond his ordinary walk. He appeared also +to be disturbed, even angry, and she watched him +anxiously until he reached the house. Then she +was at the open door and his face frightened her.</p> +<p>“Conall! My dear one! Art thou ill?” she +asked.</p> +<p>“I am ill with anger and pity and shame!”</p> +<p>“What is thy meaning? Speak to me plainly.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Rahal! the shame and the cruelty of it! I +am beside myself!”</p> +<p>“Come to my room, then thou shalt tell thy sorrow +and I will halve it with thee.”</p> +<p>“No! I want to cry out! I want to shout the +shameful wrong from the house-tops! Indeed, it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +is flying all over England and Scotland––over all +the civilized world! And yet––my God! the +guilty ones are still living!”</p> +<p>“Coll, my dear one, what is it thou most needs––cold +water?”</p> +<p>“No! No! Get me a pot of hot tea.<a name='FNanchor_0001' id='FNanchor_0001'></a><a href='#Footnote_0001' class='fnanchor'>[*]</a> My +brain burns. My heart is like to break! Our +poor brave soldiers! They are dying of hunger +and of every form of shameful neglect. The +barest necessities of life are denied them.”</p> +<hr class='fn' /> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0001' id='Footnote_0001'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0001'><span class='label'>[*]</span></a> +<p>The Norsemen of Shetland and Orkney drank tea in +every kind of need or crisis. No meal without it, no pleasure +without it; and it was equally indispensable in every kind +of trouble or fatigue.</p> +</div> +<hr class='fn' /> +<p>“By whom? By whom, Coll?”</p> +<p>“Pacifists in power and office everywhere! Give +me a drink! Give me a drink! I am ill––get me +tea––and I will tell thee.”</p> +<p>There was boiling water on the kitchen hob, +and the tea was ready in five minutes. “Drink, +dear Coll,” said Rahal, “and then share thy +trouble and anger with me. The mail packet +brought the bad news, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“Yes, about an hour ago. The town is in a +tumult. Men are cursing and women are doing +nothing less. Some whose sons are at the front +are in a distraction. If Aberdeen were within our +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +reach we would give him five minutes to say his +prayers and then send him to the judgment of +God. Englishmen and Norsemen will not lie down +and rot under Russian tyranny. To die fighting +against it sends them joyfully to the battlefield! +But oh, Rahal! to be left alone to die on the battlefield, +without help, without care, without even +a drink of cold water! It is damnable cruelty! +What I say is this: let England stop her bell-ringing +and shouts of victory until she has comforted +and helped her wounded and dying soldiers!”</p> +<p>“And Aberdeen? He is a Scotch nobleman––the +Scotch are not cowards––what has he done, +Coll?”</p> +<p>“Because he hates fighting for our rights, he +persuades all whom his power and patronage can +reach to lie down or he says they will be knocked +down. So it may be, but every man that has a +particle of the Divine in him would rather be +knocked down than lie down––if down it had to +be––but there is no question of down in it! Aberdeen! +He is ‘England’s worst enemy’––and he +holds the power given him by England to rule and +ruin England! I wish he would die and go to +judgment this night! I do! I do! and my soul +says to me, ‘Thou art right.’”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span></div> +<p>“Coll, no man knoweth the will of the Almighty.”</p> +<p>“Then they ought to! The question has now +been up to England for a two-years’ discussion, +and they have only to open His Word and find it +out”; then he straightened himself and in a +mighty burst of joyful pride and enthusiasm cried +out:</p> +<p>“‘Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth +my hands to war, and my fingers to +fight.</p> +<p>“‘My goodness, and my fortress, my high +tower, and my deliverer, my shield, and He in +whom I trust, who subdueth the people under +me.’”</p> +<p>Anon he began to pace the floor as he continued: +“‘Rid us and deliver us, from the hands of +strange children––whose mouth speaketh vanity, +and whose right hand is a right hand of falsehood.’ +Rahal, could there be a better description +of Russia––‘her right hand of falsehood, her +mouth speaking vanity?’ David put the very +words needed in our mouths when he taught us +to say, ‘rid us of such an enemy, and of all who +strike hands with him!’ Yes, rid us. We want to +be rid of all such dead souls! Rid us.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span></div> +<p>Then Rahal reminded her husband that only recently +his physician had warned him against all excitement, +especially of anger, and so finally induced +him to take a sedative and go to sleep. But +sleep was far from her. She sat down in her own +room and closed her eyes against all worldly +sights and sounds. Her soul was trying to reach +her son’s soul and impress upon it her own trust +in the love and mercy of the “God of battles.” +She had hoped that some word or thought of +Boris would come back to her in such a personal +manner that she would feel that he was thinking +of her and of the many sweet spiritual confidences +they had had together.</p> +<p>But nothing came, no sign, no word, no sudden, +flashing memory of some special promise. All +was void and still until she heard the voices of +Thora and Ian. Then she went down to them +and found that the evil news had met them on +their way home. She asked Ian if he had any +knowledge of the whereabouts of Boris. Ian +thought he might be at sea, as his ship was at Spithead +among the carrying ships of the navy. “If +he had been in Alma’s fight, you might have +heard from him,” he added. “It would +be his first battle and he would want to write +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +to you about it. That would be only natural.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, I will look for good news. If bad +news is coming, I will not pay it the compliment +of going to meet it. Have you had a pleasant +day? Where first did you go?”</p> +<p>“To the land-locked Bay of Stromness which +was full of ships of all sizes, of schooners, and of +little skiffs painted a light green colour like the +pleasure skiffs of Kirkwall.”</p> +<p>“And the town?”</p> +<p>“Was very busy while we were there. It has +but one long street, with steep branches running +directly up the big granite hill which shelters it +from the Atlantic. What I noticed particularly +was, that the houses on the main street all had +their gables seaward; and are so built that the +people can step from their doors into their boats. +I liked that arrangement. Stromness is really an +Orcadean Venice. The town is a queer old place, +with a non-English and non-Scotch look. The +houses have an old-world appearance and the +names over the doorways carry you back to Norseland. +Only one street is flagged and little bays +run up into the street through its whole length. +But the place appeared to be very busy and happy. +I noticed few Scotch there, the people seemed to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +be purely Norse. All were busy––men, women +and children.”</p> +<p>“It used to be the last port for the Hudson Bay +Company,” said Rahal, “and the big whaling +fleets, and in days of war and convoys there were +hundreds of big ships in its wonderful harbour. I +suppose that you had no time to visit any of the +ancient monuments there?” Rahal asked.</p> +<p>“No; Thora told me her grandmother Ragnor +was buried in its cemetery and that her grave was +near the church door and had a white pillar at the +head of it. So we walked there.”</p> +<p>“Well, then?”</p> +<p>“I cannot describe to you the savage, lonely +grandeur of its situation. It frightened me.”</p> +<p>“The men and women who chose it were not +afraid of it.”</p> +<p>“Thora says its memory frightened her for +years.”</p> +<p>“Thora was only eight years old when her +father placed the pillar at the head of his mother’s +grave. It was then she saw it––but at eight +years many people are often more sensitive than +at eighty. Yes, indeed! They may see, then, what +eyes dimmed by earthly vision cannot see, and feel +what hearts hardened by earth’s experiences cannot +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +feel. Thora’s spiritual sight was very keen in +childhood and is not dimmed yet.”</p> +<p>At these words Thora entered the room, wearing +the little frock of white barége she had saved +for this last day of Ian’s visit. Her face had been +bathed, her hair brushed and loosened but yet +dressed with the easiest simplicity. She was in +trouble but she knew when to speak of trouble, +and when to be silent. Her mother was talking +of Stromness; when her father came, he would +know all, and say all. So she went softly about +the room, putting on the dinner table those last +final accessories that it was her duty to supply.</p> +<p>Yet the conversation was careless and indifferent. +Rahal talked of Stromness but her heart +was far away from Stromness, and Thora would +have liked to tell her mother how beautifully their +future home had been papered, and all three were +eager to discuss the news that had come. But all +knew well that it would be better not to open the +discussion till Ragnor was present to inform and +direct their ignorance of events.</p> +<p>On the stroke of six, Ragnor entered. He had +slept and washed and was apparently calm, but +in some way his face had altered, for his heart +had mastered his brain and its usual expression of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +intellectual strength was exchanged for one of intense +feeling. His eyes shone and he had the look +of a man who had just come from the presence +of God.</p> +<p>“We are waiting for you, dear Coll,” said Rahal; +and he answered softly: “Well, then, I am +here.” For a moment his eyes rested on the table +which Rahal had set with extra care and with the +delicacies Ian liked best. Was it not the last dinner +he would eat with them for three months? +She thought it only kind to give it a little distinction. +But this elaboration of the usual home blessings +did not produce the expected results. Every +one was anxious, the atmosphere of the room was +tense and was not relieved until Ragnor had said +a grace full of meaning and had sat down and +asked Ian if he “had heard the news brought by +that day’s packet?”</p> +<p>“Very brokenly, Father,” was the answer. +“Two men, whom we met on the Stromness road, +told us that it was ‘bad with the army,’ but they +were excited and in a great hurry and would not +stand to answer our questions.”</p> +<p>“No wonder! No wonder!”</p> +<p>“Whatever is the matter, Father?”</p> +<p>“I cannot tell you. The words stumble in my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +throat, and my heart burns and bleeds. Here is +the <i>London Times</i>! Read aloud from it what +William Howard Russell has witnessed––I cannot +read the words––I would be using my own +words––listen, Rahal! Listen, Thora! and oh, +may God enter into judgment at once with the men +responsible for the misery that Russell tells us of.”</p> +<p>At this point, Adam Vedder entered the room. +He was in a passion that was relieving itself by +a torrent of low voiced curses––curses only just +audible but intensely thrilling in their half-whispered +tones of passion. In the hall he had taken +off his hat but on entering the room he found it +too warm for his top-coat, and he began to remove +it, muttering to himself while so doing. There +was an effort to hear what he was saying but very +quickly Ragnor stopped the monologue by calling:</p> +<p>“Adam! Thee! Thou art the one wanted. +Ian is just going to read what the <i>London Times</i> +says of this dreadful mismanagement.”</p> +<p>“‘Mismanagement!’ Is that what thou calls +the crime? Go on, Ian! More light on this subject +is wanted here.”</p> +<p>So Ian stood up and read from the <i>Times’</i> correspondent’s +letter the following sentences:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span></div> +<blockquote> +<p>“The skies are black as ink, the wind is howling over +the staggering tents, the water is sometimes a foot +deep, our men have neither warm nor waterproof +clothing and we are twelve hours at a time in the +trenches––and not a soul seems to care for their comfort +or even their lives; the most wretched beggar who +wanders about the streets of London in the rain leads +the life of a prince compared with the British soldiers +now fighting out here for their country.</p> +<p>... “The commonest accessories of a hospital are +wanting; there is not the least attention paid to decency +or cleanliness, the stench is appalling, the fetid +air can barely struggle out through chinks in the walls +and roofs, and for all I can observe the men die without +the least effort being made to save them. They +lie just as they were let down on the ground by the +poor fellows, their comrades, who brought them on +their backs from the camp with the greatest tenderness +but who are not allowed to remain with them. +The sick appear to be tended by the sick, and the +dying by the dying. There are no nurses––and men +are literally dying hourly, because the medical staff of +the British army has forgotten that old rags of linen +are necessary for the dressing of wounds.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“My God!” cried Ian, as he let the paper fall +from the hands he clasped passionately together, +“My God! How can Thou permit this?”</p> +<p>“Well, then, young man,” said Adam, “thou +must remember that God permits what He does +not will. And Conall,” he continued, “millions +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +have been voted and spent for war and hospital +materials, where are the goods?”</p> +<p>“The captain of the packet told me no one could +get their hands on them. Some are in the holds +of vessels and other things so piled on the top of +them that they cannot be got at till the hold is +regularly emptied. Some are stored in warehouses +which no one has authority to open––some +are actually rotting on the open wharves, because +the precise order to remove them to the hospital +cannot be found. The surgeons have no bandages, +the doctors no medicine, and as I said there +are no nurses but a few rough military orderlies. +The situation paralyses those who see it!”</p> +<p>“Paralyses! Pure nonsense!” cried Vedder, +whose face was wet with passionate tears, though +he did not know it. “Paralyses! No, no! It +must make them work miracles. I am going to +Edinburgh tomorrow. I am going to buy all the +luxuries and medicines I can afford for the lads +fighting and suffering. Sunna is going to spend a +week in gathering old linen in Kirkwall and then +Mistress Brodie and she will bring it with them. +Rahal, Thora, you must do your best. And thou, +Conall?”</p> +<p>“Adam, thou can open my purse and take all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +thou thinks is right. My Boris may be among +those dear lads; his mother will have something +to send him. Wilt thou see it is set on a fair way +to reach his hand?”</p> +<p>“I will take it to him. If he be in London with +his vessel, I will find him; if he be at the front, I +will find him. If he be in Scutari hospital, I will +find him!”</p> +<p>“Oh, Adam, Adam!” cried Rahal, “thou art the +good man that God loves, the man after His own +heart.” Her face was set and stern and white +as snow, and Thora’s was a duplicate of it; but +Ragnor, during his short interval of rest, had arrived +at that heighth and depth of confidence in +God’s wisdom which made him sure that in the end +the folly and wickedness of men would “praise +Him”; so he was ready to help, and calm and +strong in his sorrow.</p> +<p>At this point, Rahal rose and a servant came in +and began to clear the table and carry away the +remains of the meal. Then Rahal rose and took +Thora’s hand and Ian went with them to the parlour. +She spoke kindly to Ian who at her first +words burst into bitter weeping, into an almost +womanly burst of uncontrollable distress. So she +kissed and left him with the only woman who had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +the power to soothe, in any degree, the sense of +utter helplessness which oppressed him.</p> +<p>“I want to go to the Crimea!” he said, “I +would gladly go there. It would give me a chance +to die happily. It would repay me for all my +miserable life. I want to go, Thora. You +want me to go, Thora! Yes, you do, dear +one!”</p> +<p>“No, I do not want you to go. I want you here. +Oh, what a selfish coward I am. Go, Ian, if you +wish––if you feel it right to go, then go.”</p> +<p>This subject was sufficient to induce a long and +strange conversation during which Thora was led +to understand that some great and cruel circumstances +had ruined and in some measure yet controlled +her lover’s life. She was begging him to +go and talk to her father and tell him all that +troubled him so cruelly when Rahal entered the +room again.</p> +<p>“Dear ones,” she said, “the house is cold and +the lamps nearly out. Say good night, now. Ian +must be up early––and tomorrow we shall have a +busy day collecting all the old linen we can.” She +was yet as white as the long dressing gown she +wore but there was a smile on her face that made +it lovely as she recited slowly:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +<p class='cg'>“Watching, wondering, yearning, knowing<br /> +Whence the stream, and where ’tis going<br /> +Seems all mystery––by and by<br /> +He will speak, and tell us why.”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>And the simple words had a charm in them, and +though they said “Good night,” in a mist of tears, +the sunshine of hope turned them into that wonderful +bow which God ‘bended with his hands’ +and placed in the heavens as a token of His covenant +with man, that He would always remember +man’s weakness and give him help in time of +trouble. Now let every good man and woman +say “I’ll warrant it! I never yet found a deluge +of any kind but I found also that God had provided +an ark for my refuge and my comfort.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_THORAS_PROBLEM' id='CHAPTER_VIII_THORAS_PROBLEM'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>THORA’S PROBLEM</h3> +</div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>There is a tear for all who die,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A mourner o’er the humblest grave;<br /> +But nations swell the funeral cry,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And triumph weeps above the brave.<br /> +For them is Sorrow’s purest sigh,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>O’er Ocean’s heaving bosom sent<br /> +In vain their bones unburied lie,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>All earth becomes their monument.<br /> +<br /> +Born to the War of 1854 on October 21, 1854,<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>a Daughter, called Red Cross.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p class='dropcap'><span class="dcap">The</span> next night Vedder went away. His purposes +were necessarily rather vague, but it +was certain he would go to the front if he thought +he could do any good there. He talked earnestly +and long with Ragnor but when it came to parting, +both men were strangely silent. They clasped +hands and looked long and steadily into each other’s +eyes. No words could interpret that look. It +was a conversation for eternity.</p> +<p>In the meantime, the whole town was eager to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +do something but what could they do that would +give the immediate relief that was needed? There +were no sewing machines then, women’s fingers +and needles could not cope with the difficulty, even +regarding the Orkney men who were suffering. +To gather from every one the very necessary old +linen seemed to be the very extent of their usefulness.</p> +<p>In these first days of the trouble, Rahal and +Thora were serious and quiet. A dull, inexplicable +melancholy shrouded the girl like a garment. +The pretty home preparing for Ian and herself +lost its interest. She refused to look forward and +lived only in the unhappy present. The few words +Ian has said about some wrong or trouble in the +past years of his life overshadowed her. She was +naturally very prescient and her higher self dwelt +much in</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>... that finer atmosphere,<br /> +Where footfalls of appointed things,<br /> +Reverberent of days to be,<br /> +Are heard in forecast echoings,<br /> +Like wave beats from a viewless sea.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>However, if trouble lasts through the night, joy, +or at least hope and expectation, comes in the +morning; and certainly the first shock of grief settled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +down into patient hoping and waiting. Vedder +and Ian were both good correspondents and +the silence and loneliness were constantly broken +by their interesting letters. And joyful or sorrowful, +Time goes by.</p> +<p>Sunna wrote occasionally but she said she found +Edinburgh dull, and that she would gladly return +to Kirkwall if it was not for the Pentland +Firth and its winter tempers and tantrums.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>The war [she added] has stopped all balls and even +house parties. There is no dancing and no sports of +any kind, and I believe skating and golf have been +forbidden. Love-making is the only recreation allowed +and I am not tempted to sin in this direction. +The churches are always open and their bells clatter +all day long. I have no lovers. Every man will talk +of the war, and then they get offended if you ask +them why they are not gone. I have had the pleasure +of saying a few painful truths to these feather-bed +patriots, and they tell each other, no doubt, that I am +impossible and impertinent. One of them said to me, +myself: “Wait a wee, Miss Vedder, I wouldna wonder +but some crippled war lad will fa’ to your lot, when the +puir fellows come marching home again.” The Edinburgh +men are just city flunkeys, they would do fine to +wait on our Norse men. I would like well to see a +little dandy advocate I know here, trotting after Boris.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>So days came and went, and the passion of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +shame and sorrow died down and people did not +talk of the war. But the doors of St. Magnus +stood open all day long and there were always +women praying there. They had begun to carry +their anxieties and griefs to God; and that was +well for God did not weary of their complaining. +Women have the very heart of sympathy for a +man’s griefs. God is the only refuge for a sorrowful +woman.</p> +<p>Steadily the preparations for Thora’s marriage +went on, but the spirit that animated their first +beginnings had cooled down into that calm necessity, +which always has to attend to all “finishings +off.” Early in December, Thora’s future home +was quite finished, and this last word expresses its +beauty and completeness. Then Ragnor kissed +his daughter, and put into her hand the key of the +house and the deed of gift which made it her own +forever. And in this same hour they decided that +the first day of the New Year should be the wedding +day; for Bishop Hedley would then be in +Kirkwall and who else could marry the little Thora +whom he had baptised and confirmed and welcomed +into the fold of the church.</p> +<p>Nothing is more remarkable than the variety of +moods in which women take the solemn initiatory +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +rite ushering them into their real life and their +great and honourable duties. Thora was joyful as +a bird in spring and never weary of examining the +lovely home, the perfect wardrobe, and the great +variety of beautiful presents that had been given +her.</p> +<p>Very soon it was the twentieth of December, +and Ian was expected on the twenty-third. Christmas +preparations had now taken the place of marriage +preparations for every item was ready for +the latter event. There had been a little anxiety +about the dress and veil, but they arrived on the +morning of the twentieth and were beautiful and +fitting in every respect. The dress was of the +orthodox white satin and the veil fell from a +wreath of orange flowers and myrtle leaves. And +oh, how proud and happy Thora was in their +possession. Several times that wonderful day she +had run secretly to her room to examine and admire +them.</p> +<p>On the morning of the twenty-first she reminded +herself that in two days Ian would be with +her and that in nine days she would be his wife. +She was genuine and happy about the event. She +made no pretences or reluctances. She loved Ian +with all her heart, she was glad she was going +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +to be always with him. Life would then be full +and she would be the happiest woman in the +world. She asked her father at the breakfast +table to send her, at once, any letters that might +come for her in his mail. “I am sure there will +be one from Ian,” she said, “and, dear Father, +it hurts me to keep it waiting.”</p> +<p>About ten o’clock, Mrs. Beaton called and +brought Thora a very handsome ring from Maximus +Grant and a bracelet from herself. She +stayed to lunch with the Ragnors and after the +meal was over, they went upstairs to look at the +wedding dress. “I want to see it on you, Thora,” +said Mrs. Beaton, “I shall have a wedding dress +to buy for my niece soon and I would like to know +what kind of a fit Mrs. Scott achieves.” So Thora +put on the dress, and Mrs. Beaton admitted that it +“fit like a glove” and that she should insist on her +niece Helen going to Mrs. Scott.</p> +<p>With many scattering, delaying remarks and +good wishes, the lady finally bid Thora good-bye +and Mrs. Ragnor went downstairs with her. Then +Thora eagerly lifted two letters that had come in +her father’s mail and been sent home to her. One +was from Ian. “The last he will write to Thora +Ragnor,” she said with a smile. “I will put it with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +his first letter and keep them all my life long. So +loving is he, so good, so handsome! There is no +one like my Ian.” Twice over she read his loving +letter and then laid it down and lifted the one +which had come with it.</p> +<p>“Jean Hay,” she repeated, “who is Jean Hay?” +Then she remembered the writer––an orphan girl +living with a married brother who did not always +treat her as kindly as he should have done. Hearing +and believing this story, Rahal Ragnor hired +the girl, taught her how to sew, how to mend and +darn and in many ways use her needle. Then discovering +that she had a genius for dressmaking, +she placed her with a first-class modiste in Edinburgh +to be properly instructed and liberally attended +to all financial requisites; for Rahal Ragnor +could not do anything unless it was wholly and +perfectly done. Then Thora had dressed Jean +from her own wardrobe and asked her father to +send their protegée to Edinburgh on one of the +vessels he controlled. And Jean had been heartily +grateful, had done well, and risen to a place of +trust in her employer’s business; and a few times +every year she wrote to Mrs. Ragnor or Thora. +All these circumstances were remembered by +Thora in a moment. “Jean Hay!” she exclaimed. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +“Well, Jean, you must wait a few minutes, +until I have taken off my wedding dress. I +am sorry I had to put it on––it was not very kind +or thoughtful of Mrs. Beaton to ask me––I don’t +believe mother liked her doing so––mother has +a superstition or fret about everything. Well, +then, it is no way spoiled–––” and she lifted it +and the white silk petticoat belonging to the dress +and carefully put them in the place Rahal had selected +as the safest for their keeping. It was a +large closet in the spare room and she went there +with them. As she returned to her own room she +heard her mother welcoming a favourite visitor +and it pleased her. “Now I need not hurry,” she +thought. “Mistress Vorn will stay an hour at +least, and I can take my own time.”</p> +<p>“Taking her own time” evidently meant to +Thora the reading of Ian’s letter over again. +And also a little musing on what Ian had said. +There was, however, no hurry about Jean Hay’s +letter and it was so pleasant to drift among the +happy thoughts that crowded into her consideration. +So for half an hour Jean’s letter lay at her +side untouched––Jean was so far outside her +dreams and hopes that afternoon––but at length +she lifted it and these were the words she read:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></div> +<blockquote> +<p><span class='smcap'>Dear Miss Thora:</span></p> +<p>I was hearing since last spring that thou wert going +to be married on the son of the Rev. Dr. Macrae––on +the young man called John Calvin Macrae. Very +often I was hearing this, and always I was answering, +“There will be no word of truth in that story. Miss +Ragnor will not be noticing such a young man as +that. No, indeed!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Here Thora threw down the letter and sat looking +at it upon the floor as if she would any moment +tear it to pieces. But she did not, she finally lifted +it and forced herself to continue reading:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>I was hating to tell thee some things I knew, and I +was often writing and then tearing up my letter, for it +made me sick to be thy true friend in such a cruel way. +But often I have heard the wise tell “when the knife is +needed, the salve pot will be of no use.” Now then, +this day, I tell myself with a sad heart, “Jean, thou +must take the knife. The full time has come.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Why won’t the woman tell what she has got +to tell,” said Thora in a voice of impatient anguish, +and in a few minutes she whispered, “I am cold.” +Then she threw a knitted cape over her shoulders +and lifted the letter again, oh, so reluctantly, and +read:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>The young man will have told your father, that he +is McLeod’s agent and a sort of steward of his large +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +properties. This does not sound like anything wrong, +but often I have been told different. Old McLeod +left to his son many houses. Three of them are not +good houses, they are really fashionable gambling +houses. Macrae has the management of them as well +as of many others in various parts of the city. Of +these others I have heard no wrong. I suppose they +may be quite respectable.</p> +<p>This story has more to it. Whenever there is a +great horse race there Macrae will be, and I saw +myself in the daily newspapers that his name was +among the winners on the horse Sergius. It was only +a small sum he won, but sin is not counted in pounds +and shillings. No, indeed! So there is no wonder his +good father is feeling the shame of it.</p> +<p>Moreover, though he calls himself Ian, that is not +his name. His name is John Calvin and his denial of +his baptismal name, given to him at the Sabbath service, +in the house of God, at the very altar of the same, +is thought by some to be a denial of God’s grace and +mercy. And he has been reasoned with on this matter +by the ruling elder in his father’s kirk, but no reason +would he listen to, and saying many things about Calvin +I do not care to write.</p> +<p>Many stories go about young men and young women, +and there is this and that said about Macrae. I have +myself met him on Prince’s Street in the afternoon +very often, parading there with various gayly dressed +women. I do not blame him much for that. The +Edinburgh girls are very forward, not like the Norse +girls, who are modest and retiring in their ways. I +am forced to say that Macrae is a very gay young +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +man, and of course you know all that means without +more words about it. He dresses in the highest +fashion, goes constantly to theatres with some lady or +other, and I do not wonder that people ask, “Where +does he get the money? Does he gamble for it?” For +he does not go to any kirk on the Sabbath unless he +is paid to go there and sing, which he does very well, +people say. In his own rooms he is often heard playing +the piano and singing music that is not sacred or +fit for the holy day. And his father is the most religious +man in Edinburgh. It is just awful! I fear +you will never forgive me, Miss Thora, but I have +still more and worse to tell you, because it is, as I +may say, personally heard and not this or that body’s +clash-ma-claver. Nor did I seek the same, it came +to me through my daily work and in a way special and +unlooked-for, so that after hearing it, my conscience +would no longer be satisfied and I was forced, as it +were, to the writing of this letter to you.</p> +<p>I dare say Macrae may have spoken to you anent +his friendship with Agnes and Willie Henderson, indeed +Willie Henderson and John Macrae have been +finger and thumb ever since they played together. +Now Willie’s father is an elder in Dr. Macrae’s kirk +and if all you hear anent him be true––which I cannot +vouch for––he is a man well regarded both in kirk and +market place––that is, he was so regarded until he +married again about two years ago. For who, think +you, should he marry but a proud upsetting Englishwoman, +who was bound to be master and mistress +both o’er the hale household?</p> +<p>Then Miss Henderson showed fight and her brother +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +Willie stood by her. And Miss Henderson is a spunky +girl and thought bonnie by some people, and has a +tongue so well furnished with words to defend what +she thinks her rights, that it leaves nobody uncertain +as to what thae rights may be. Weel, there has been +nothing but quarreling in the elder’s house ever since +the unlucky wedding; and in the first year of the +trial Willie Henderson borrowed money––I suppose of +John Macrae––and took himself off to America, and +some said the elder was glad of it and others said he +was sair down-hearted and disappointed.</p> +<p>After that, Miss Agnes was never friends with her +stepmother. It seems the woman wanted her to marry +a nephew of her ain kith and kin, and in this matter +her father was of the same mind. The old man doubtless +wanted a sough of peace in his own home. That +was how things stood a couple of weeks syne, but +yestreen I heard what may make the change wanted. +This is how it happened.</p> +<p>Yesterday afternoon Mrs. Baird came to Madame +David’s to have a black velvet gown fitted. Madame +called on Jean Hay to attend her in the fitting and +to hang the long skirt properly––for it is a difficult +job to hang a velvet skirt, and Jean Hay is thought to +be very expert anent the set and swing of silk velvet, +which has a certain contrariness of its own. Let that +pass. I was kneeling on the floor, setting the train, +when Mrs. Baird said: “I suppose you have heard, +Madame, the last escapade of that wild son of the +great Dr. Macrae?” Then I was all ears, the more so +when I heard Madam say: “I heard a whisper of +something, but I was not heeding it. Folks never seem +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +to weary of finding fault with the handsome lad.”</p> +<p>“Well, Madame,” said Mrs. Baird, “I happen to +know about this story. Seeing with your own eyes is +believing, surely!”</p> +<p>“What did you see?” Madame asked.</p> +<p>“I saw enough to satisfy me. You know my house +is opposite to the West End Hotel, and last Friday I +saw Macrae go there and he was dressed up to the +nines. He went in and I felt sure he had gone to call +on some lady staying there. So I watched, and better +watched, for he did not come out for two hours, and +I concluded they had lunched together! For when +Macrae came out of the hotel, he spoke to a cabman, +and then waited until a young lady and her maid appeared. +He put the young lady into the cab, had a +few minutes’ earnest conversation with her, then the +maid joined her mistress and they two drove away.”</p> +<p>“Well, now, Mrs. Baird,” said Madame, “there was +nothing in that but just a courteous luncheon together.”</p> +<p>“Wait, Madame! I felt there was more, so I took +a book and sat down by my window. And just on the +edge of the dark I saw the two women return, and a +little later a waiter put lights in an upper parlour and +he spread a table for dinner there and Macrae and +the young lady ate it together. Afterwards they went +away in a cab together.” Then Madame asked if the +maid was with them, and Mrs. Baird said she thought +she was but had not paid particular attention.</p> +<p>Madame said something to me about the length of +the train and then Mrs. Baird seemed annoyed at her +inattention, and she added: “Macrae was advertised +to sing in the City Hall the next night at a mass meeting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +of citizens about abrogating slavery in the United +States, and he was not there––broke his engagement! +What do you think of that? The next night, Sabbath, +he did the same to Dr. Fraser’s kirk, where he had +promised to sing a pro-Christmas canticle. And this +morning I heard that he is going to the Orkneys to +marry a rich and beautiful girl who lives there. Now +what do you think of your handsome Macrae? I can +tell you he is on every one’s tongue.” And Madame +said, “I have no doubt of it and I’ll warrant nobody +knows what they are talking about.”</p> +<p>After this the fitting on was not pleasant and I finished +my part of it as quickly as possible. Indeed, +Miss Thora, I was miserable about you and so pressed +in spirit to tell you these things that I could hardly +finish my day’s work. For my conscience kept urging +me to do my duty to you, for it is many favours you +have done me in the past. Kindly pardon me now, +and believe me,</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Your humble but sincere friend, <br /></p> +<p class='ralign cg'><span class='smcap'>Jean Hay.</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +</blockquote> +<p>This letter Thora read to the last word but she +was nearly blind when she reached it. All her +senses rang inward. “I am dying!” she thought, +and she tried to reach the bed but only succeeded +in stumbling against a small table full of books, +knocking it down and falling with it.</p> +<p>Mistress Ragnor and her visitor heard the fall +and they were suddenly silent. Immediately, however, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +they went to the foot of the stairway and +called, “Thora.” There was no answer, and the +mother’s heart sank like lead, as she hastened to +her daughter’s room and threw open the door. +Then she saw her stricken child, lying as if dead +upon the floor. Cries and calls and hurrying feet +followed, and the unconscious girl was quickly +freed from all physical restraints and laid at the +open window. But all the ordinary household +methods of restoring consciousness were tried +without avail and the case began to assume a dangerous +aspect.</p> +<p>At this moment Ragnor arrived. He knelt at +his child’s side and drew her closer and closer, +whispering her name with the name of the Divine +One; and surely it was in response to his heart-breaking +entreaties the passing soul listened and +returned. “Father,” was the first whisper she uttered; +and with a glowing, grateful heart, the +father lifted her in his arms and laid her on her +bed.</p> +<p>Then Rahal gave him the two letters and sent +him away. Thora was still “far off,” or she would +have remembered her letters but it was near the +noon of the next day when she asked her mother +where they were.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span></div> +<p>“Thy father has them.”</p> +<p>“I am sorry, so sorry!”</p> +<p>That was all she said but the subject appeared +to distress her for she closed her eyes, and Rahal +kissed away the tears that slowly found their way +down the white, stricken face. However, from +this hour she rallied and towards night fell into a +deep sleep which lasted for fourteen hours; and it +was during this anxious period of waiting that +Ragnor talked to his wife about the letters which +were, presumably, the cause of the trouble.</p> +<p>“Those letters I gave thee, Coll, did thou read +both of them?”</p> +<p>“Both of them I read. Ian’s was the happy letter +of an expectant bridegroom. Only joy and +hope was in it. It was the other one that was a +death blow. Yes, indeed, it was a bad, cruel letter!”</p> +<p>“And the name? Who wrote it?”</p> +<p>“Jean Hay.”</p> +<p>“Jean Hay! What could Jean have to do with +Thora’s affairs?”</p> +<p>“Well, then, her conscience made her interfere. +She had heard some evil reports about Ian’s +life and she thought it her duty, after yours and +Thora’s kindness to her, to report these stories.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span></div> +<p>“A miserable return for our kindness! This is +what I notice––when people want to say cruel +things, they always blame their conscience or their +duty for making them do it.”</p> +<p>“Here is Jean’s letter. Thou, thyself, must +read it.”</p> +<p>Rahal read it with constantly increasing anger +and finally threw it on the table with passionate +scorn. “Not one word of this stuff do I believe, +Coll! Envy and jealousy sent that news, not gratitude +and good will! No, indeed! But I will tell +thee, Coll, one thing I have always found sure, it +is this; that often, much evil comes to the good +from taking people out of their poverty and misfortunes. +They are paying a debt they owe from +the past and if we assume that debt we have it to +pay in some wise. That is the wisdom of the old, +the wisdom learned by sad experience. I wish, +then, that I had let the girl pay her own debt and +carry her own burden. She is envious of Thora. +Yet was Thora very good to her. Do I believe in +her gratitude? Not I! Had she done this cruel +thing out of a kind heart, she would have sent this +letter to me and left the telling or the not telling to +my love and best judgment. I will not believe anything +against Ian Macrae! Nothing at all!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span></div> +<p>“Much truth is in thy words, Rahal, and it is +not on Jean Hay’s letter I will do anything. I +will take only Ian’s ‘yes,’ or ‘no’ on any accusation.”</p> +<p>“You may do that safely, Coll, I know it.”</p> +<p>“And I will go back to Edinburgh with him and +see his father. Perhaps we have all taken the +youth too far on his handsome person and his +sweet amiability.”</p> +<p>“Thou wrote to his father when Thora was engaged +to him, with thy permission.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, I did.”</p> +<p>“What said his father?”</p> +<p>“Too little! He was cursed short about all I +named. I told him Thora was good and fair and +well educated; and that she would have her full +share in my estate. I told him all that I intended +to do for them about their home and the place +which I intended for Ian in my business, and referred +him to Bishop Hedley as to my religious, +financial, social and domestic standing.”</p> +<p>“Why did thou name Bishop Hedley to him? +They are as far apart as Leviticus and St. John. +And what did he say to thee in reply?”</p> +<p>“That my kindness was more than his son deserved, +etc. In response to our invitation to be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +present at the marriage ceremony, he said it was +quite impossible, the journey was too long and +doubtful, especially in the winter; that he was subject +to sea-sickness and did not like to leave his +congregation over Sunday. Rahal, I felt the +paper on which his letter was written crinkling and +crackling in my hand, it was that stiff with ecclesiastic +pomp and spiritual pride. I would not +show thee the letter, I put it in the fire.”</p> +<p>“Poor Ian! I think then, that he has had many +things to suffer.”</p> +<p>“Rahal, this is what I will do. I will meet the +packet on Saturday and we will go first to my office +and talk the Hay letter over together. If I +bring Ian home with me, then something is possible, +but if I come home alone, then Thora must +understand that all is over––that the young man +is not to be thought of.”</p> +<p>“That would kill her.”</p> +<p>“So it might be. But better is death than a living +misery. If Ian is what Jean Hay says he is, +could we think of our child living with him? Impossible! +Rahal, dear wife, whatever can be +done I will do, and that with wisdom and loving +kindness. Thy part is harder, it must be with our +dear Thora.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span></div> +<p>“That is so. And if there has to be parting, +it will be almost impossible to spread the plaster +as far as the sore.”</p> +<p>“There is the Great Physician–––”</p> +<p>“I know.”</p> +<p>“Tell her what I have said.”</p> +<p>“I will do that; but just yet, she is not minding +much what any one says.”</p> +<p>However, on Saturday afternoon Thora left +her bed and dressed herself in the gown she had +prepared for her bridegroom’s arrival. The nervous +shock had been severe and she looked woefully +like, and yet unlike, herself. Her eyes were +full of tears, she trembled, she could hardly support +herself. If one should take a fresh green +leaf and pass over it a hot iron, the change it made +might represent the change in Thora. Jean Hay’s +letter had been the hot iron passed over her. She +had been told of her father’s decision, but she +clung passionately to her faith in Ian and her claim +on her father’s love and mercy.</p> +<p>“Father will do right,” she said, “and if he +does, Ian will come home with him.”</p> +<p>The position was a cruel one to Conall Ragnor +and he went to meet the packet with a heavy +heart. Then Ian’s joyful face and his impatience +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +to land made it more so, and Ragnor found it impossible +to connect wrong-doing with the open, +handsome countenance of the youth. On the contrary, +he found himself without intention declaring:</p> +<p>“Well, then, I never found anything the least +zig-zaggery about what he said or did. His words +and ways were all straight. That is the truth.”</p> +<p>Yet Ian’s happy mood was instantly dashed by +Ragnor’s manner. He did not take his offered +hand and he said in a formal tone: “Ian, we will +go to my office before we go to the house. I +must ask thee some questions.”</p> +<p>“Very well, sir. Thora, I hope, is all right?”</p> +<p>“No. She has been very ill.”</p> +<p>“Then let me go to her, sir, at once.”</p> +<p>“Later, I will see about that.”</p> +<p>“Later is too late, let us go at once. If Thora +is sick–––”</p> +<p>“Be patient. It is not well to talk of women on +the street. No wise man, who loves his womenkin, +does that.”</p> +<p>Then Ian was silent; and the walk through the +busy streets was like a walk in a bad dream. The +place and circumstances felt unreal and he was +conscious of the sure presence of a force closing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +about him, even to his finger tips. Vainly he tried +to think. He felt the trouble coming nearer and +nearer, but what was it? What had he done? +What had he failed to do? What was he to be +questioned about?</p> +<p>Young as he was his experiences had taught him +to expect only injury and wrong. The Ragnor +home and its love and truth had been the miracle +that had for nine months turned his brackish water +of life into wine. Was it going to fail him, as +everything else had done? He laughed inwardly +at the cruel thought and whispered to himself: +“This, too, can be borne, but oh, Thora, Thora!” +and the two words shattered his pride and made +him ready to weep when he sat down in Ragnor’s +office and saw the kind, pitiful face of the elder +man looking at him. It gave him the power he +needed and he asked bluntly what questions he +was required to answer.</p> +<p>Ragnor gave him the unhappy letter and he +read it with a look of anger and astonishment. +“Father,” he said, “all this woman writes is true +and not true; and of all accusations, these are the +worst to defend. I must go back to my very +earliest remembrances in order to fairly state my +case, and if you will permit me to do this, in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +presence of your wife and Thora, I will then accept +whatever decision you make.”</p> +<p>For at least three minutes Ragnor made no answer. +He sat with closed eyes and his face held +in the clasp of his left hand. Ian was bending forward, +eagerly watching him. There was not a +movement, not a sound; it seemed as if both men +hardly breathed. But when Ragnor moved, he +stood up. “Let us be going,” he said, “they are +anxious. They are watching. You shall do as +you say, Ian.”</p> +<p>Rahal saw them first. Thora was lying back in +her mother’s chair with closed eyes. She could +not bear to look into the empty road watching for +one who might be gone forever. Then in a blessed +moment, Rahal whispered, “They are coming!”</p> +<p>“Both? Both, Mother?”</p> +<p>“Both!”</p> +<p>“Thank God!” And she would have cried out +her thanks and bathed them in joyful tears if +she had been alone. But Ian must not see her +weeping. Now, especially, he must be met with +smiles. And then, when she felt herself in Ian’s +embrace, they were both weeping. But oh, how +great, how blessed, how sacramental are those joys +that we baptise with tears!</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span></div> +<p>During the serving of dinner there was no conversation +but such as referred to the war and +other public events. Many great ones had transpired +since they parted, and there was plenty to +talk about: the battles of Balaklava and Inkerman +had been fought; the never-to-be-forgotten +splendour of Scarlett’s Charge with the Heavy +Brigade, and the still more tragically splendid one +of the Light Brigade, had both passed into history.</p> +<p>More splendid and permanent than these had +been the trumpet “call” of Russell in the <i>Times</i>, +asking the women of England who among them +were ready to go to Scutari Hospital and comfort +and help the men dying for England? +“Now,” he cried,</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“The Son of God goes forth to war!<br /> +Who follows in His train?”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>Florence Nightingale and her band of trained +nurses, mainly from the Roman Catholic Sisters +of Mercy, and St. John’s Protestant House, was +the instant answer. In six days they were ready +and without any flourish of trumpets, at the dark, +quiet midnight, they left England for Scutari and +in that hour the Red Cross Society was born.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span></div> +<p>“How long is it since they sailed?” asked Rahal.</p> +<p>“A month,” answered Ian, “but the controversy +about it is still raging in the English papers.”</p> +<p>“What has anyone to say against it?” asked +Rahal. “The need was desperate, the answer +quick. What, then, do they say?”</p> +<p>“The prudery of the English middle class was +shocked at the idea of young women nursing in +military hospitals. They considered it ‘highly +improper.’ Others were sure women would be +more trouble than help. Many expect their health +to fail, and think they will be sent back to English +hospitals in a month.”</p> +<p>“I thought,” said Ragnor, “that the objections +were chiefly religious.”</p> +<p>“You are right,” replied Ian. “The Calvinists +are afraid Miss Nightingale’s intention is to make +the men Catholics in their dying hour. Others +feel sure Miss Nightingale is an Universalist, or +an Unitarian, or a Wesleyan Methodist. The +fact is, Florence Nightingale is a devout Episcopalian.”</p> +<p>A pleasant little smile parted Ragnor’s lips, and +he said with an Episcopalian suavity: “The Wesleyans +and the Episcopalians, in doctrine, are much +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +alike. We regard them as brethren;” and just +while he spoke, Ragnor looked like some ecclesiastical +prelate.</p> +<p>“There is little to wonder at in the churches +disagreeing about Miss Nightingale,” said Rahal, +“it is not to be expected that they would believe +in her, when they do not believe in each other.” +As she spoke she stepped to the fireside and +touched the bell rope, and a servant entered and +began to clear the table and put more wood on +the fire, and to turn out one of the lamps at Rahal’s +order. Ragnor had gone out to have a quiet +smoke in the fresh air while Rahal was sending +off all the servants to a dance at the Fisherman’s +Hall. Ian and Thora were not interested in these +things; they sat close together, talking softly of +their own affairs.</p> +<p>Without special request, they drew closer to the +hearth and to each other. Then Ragnor took out +a letter and handed it to Ian. He was sitting at +Thora’s side and her hand was in his hand. He +let it fall and took the letter offered him.</p> +<p>“I cannot explain this letter,” he said, “unless +I preface it with some facts regarding my unhappy +childhood and youth. I am, as you know, the son +of Dr. Macrae, but I have been a disinherited +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +son ever since I can remember. I suppose that in +my earliest years I was loved and kindly treated, +but I have no remembrance of that time. I know +only that before I was five years old, my father +had accepted the solemn conviction that I was +without election to God’s grace. Personally I was +a beautiful child, but I was received and considered, +body and soul, as unredeemable. Father +then regarded me as a Divine decree which it was +his duty to receive with a pious acquiescence. My +mother pitied and, in her way, loved me, and suffered +much with me. I have a little sister also, +who would like to love me, but there is in all her +efforts just that touch of Phariseeism which destroys +love.”</p> +<p>“But, Ian, there must have been some reason +for your father’s remarkable conviction?”</p> +<p>“That is most likely. If so, he never explained +the fact to me or even to my mother. She told me +once that he did not suspect that I had missed +God’s election until I was between five and six +years old. I suppose that about that age I began +to strengthen his cruel fear by my antipathy to the +kirk services and my real and unfortunate inability +to learn the Shorter Catechism. This was a natural +short-coming. I could neither spell or pronounce +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +the words I was told to learn and to memorise +them was an impossible thing.”</p> +<p>“Could not your mother help you?”</p> +<p>“She tried. She wept over me as she tried, and +I made an almost superhuman effort to comprehend +and remember. I could not. I was flogged, +I was denied food and even water. I was put in +dark rooms. I was forbid all play and recreation. +I went through this martyrdom year after year +and I finally became stubborn and would try no +longer. In the years that followed, until I was +sixteen, my daily sufferings were great, but I remember +them mainly for my mother’s sake, who +suffered with me in all I suffered. Nor am I without +pity for my father. He honestly believed that +in punishing me he was doing all he could to save +me from everlasting punishment. Yes, sir! Do +not shake your head! I have heard him praying, +pleading with God, for some token of my election +to His mercy. You see it was John Calvin.”</p> +<p>“John Calvin!” ejaculated Ragnor, “how is +that?”</p> +<p>“It was his awful tenets I had to learn; and +when I was young I could not learn them, and +when I grew older I would not learn them. My +father had called me John Calvin and I detested +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +the name. On my eighteenth birthday I asked him +to have it changed. He was very angry at my +request. I begged him passionately to do so. I +said it ruined my life, that I could do nothing +under that name. ‘Give me your own name, +Father,’ I entreated, ‘and I will try and be a good +man!’</p> +<p>“He said something to me, I never knew exactly +what, but the last word was more than I +could bear and my reply was an oath. Then he +lifted the whip at his side and struck me.”</p> +<p>Rahal and Thora were sobbing. Ragnor looked +in the youth’s face with shining eyes and asked, +almost in a whisper, “What did thou do?”</p> +<p>“I had been struck often enough before to have +made me indifferent, but at this moment some new +strength and feeling sprang up in my heart. I +seized his arms and the whip fell to the floor. I +lifted it and said, ‘Sir, if you ever again use a +whip in place of decent words to me, I will see you +no more until we meet for the judgment of God. +Then I will pity you for the life-long mistake you +have made.’ My father looked at me with eyes +I shall never forget, no, not in all eternity! He +burst into agonizing prayer and weeping and I +went and told mother to go to him. I left the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +house there and then. I had not a halfpenny, and +I was hungry and cold and sick with an intolerable +sense of wrong.”</p> +<p>“Father!” said Thora, in a voice broken with +weeping. “Is not this enough?” And Ragnor +leaned forward and took Thora’s hand but he did +not speak. Neither did he answer Rahal’s look +of entreaty. On the contrary he asked:</p> +<p>“Then, Ian? Then, what did thou do?”</p> +<p>“I felt so ill I went to see Dr. Finlay, our family +physician. He knew the family trouble, because +he had often attended mother when she was +ill in consequence of it. I did not need to make +a complaint. He saw my condition and took me +to his wife and told her to feed and comfort me. +I remained in her care four days, and then he offered +to take me into his office and set me to reading +medical text books, while I did the office +work.”</p> +<p>“What was this work?”</p> +<p>“I was taught how to prepare ordinary medicines, +to see callers when the doctor was out, and +make notes of, and on, their cases. I helped the +doctor in operations, I took the prescriptions to +patients and explained their use, etc. In three +years I became very useful and helpful and I was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +quite happy. Then Dr. Finlay was appointed to +some exceptionally fine post in India, private +physician to some great Rajah, and the Finlay +family hastily prepared for their journey to Delhi. +I longed to go with them but I had not the money +requisite. With Dr. Finlay I had had a home +but only money enough to clothe me decently. I +had not a pound left and mother could not help +me, and Uncle Ian was in the Madeira Isles with +his sick wife. So the Finlays went without me; +and I can feel yet the sense of loneliness and poverty +that assailed me, when I shut their door behind +me and walked into the cold street and knew +not what to do or where to go.”</p> +<p>“How old were you then, Ian?” asked Ragnor.</p> +<p>“I was twenty years old within a few days, and +I had one pound, sixteen shillings in my pocket. +Five pounds from an Episcopal church would be +due in two weeks for my solo and part singing in +their services; but they were never very prompt +in their payment and that was nothing to rely on +in my present need. I took to answering advertisements, +and did some of the weariest tramping +looking for work that poor humanity can do. +When I met Kenneth McLeod, I had broken my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +last shilling. I was like a hungry, lost child, and +the thought of my mother came to me and I felt +as if my heart would break.</p> +<p>“The next moment I saw Kenneth McLeod coming +up Prince’s Street. It was nearly four years +since we had seen each other, but he knew me at +once and called me in his old kind way. Then he +looked keenly at me, and asked: ‘What is the matter, +Ian? The old trouble?’</p> +<p>“I was so heartless and hungry I could hardly +keep back tears as I answered: ‘It is that and +everything else! Ken, help me, if you can.’ +‘Come with me!’ he answered, and I went with +him into the Queen’s Hotel and he ordered dinner, +and while we were eating I told him my situation. +Then he said, ‘I can help you, Ian, if you +will help me. You know that all my happiness is +on the sea and father kept me on one or another +of his trading boats as much as possible from my +boyhood, so that I am now a clever enough navigator. +Two years ago my father died and I am +in a lot of trouble about managing the property he +left me. Now, if you will take the oversight of +my Edinburgh property, I can take my favourite +boat and look after the coast trade of the Northern +Islands.’</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span></div> +<p>“What could I say? I was dumb with surprise +and gratitude. I never thought there was anything +wrong in our contract. I believed the work +had come in answer to my prayer for help and I +thanked God and Kenneth McLeod for it.”</p> +<p>Here Mrs. Ragnor rose, saying, “Coll, my dear +one, Thora and I will now leave thee. I am sure +Ian has done as well as he could do and we hope +thou wilt judge him kindly.” Then the women +went upstairs and Ragnor remained silent until +Ian said:</p> +<p>“I am very anxious, sir.”</p> +<p>Then Ragnor stood up and slowly answered, +“Ian, now is the time to take council of my pillow. +What I have to say I will say later. This is not a +thing to be settled by a yes or no. I must think +over what thou hast told me. I must have some +words with my wife and daughter. Sleep one +night at least over thy trouble, there are many +things to consider; especially this question of the +young lady who is made the last count of Jean +Hay’s letter. What hast thou to say about her? +She seems to have had some strong claim upon +thy––shall we say friendship?”</p> +<p>“You might say much more than friendship, +sir, and yet wrong neither man nor woman by it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +Why, the young lady was Agnes Henderson, the +sister of Willie Henderson, who is my soul’s +brother and my second self. Thora must have +heard all about Agnes!”</p> +<p>“Is she Deacon Scot Henderson’s daughter?”</p> +<p>“Of course she is! Who else would I have left +two engagements to serve? But Agnes is dear +to me, perhaps dearer than my own sister. Since +she was nine years old, we have studied and played +together. Willie and Agnes were the only loves +and only friends of my desolate boyhood. You +have doubtless heard how unhappy the deacon’s +second marriage has been. Both Willie and Agnes +refused the stepmother he gave them, and last +year Willie went to New York, where he is doing +very well. But Agnes has been more and more +wretched, and a recent proposal of marriage between +herself and the stepmother’s nephew has +made her life intolerable. Two weeks ago I had +a letter from Willie, telling me he had just written +her, advising an immediate ‘give-up’ of the +whole situation. He told her to take the first +good steamer and come to him. He also urged +her to send for me and take my help and advice +about the voyage. Two weeks ago last Friday +she did so and I went at once to the West End +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +Hotel to see her. She had disguised herself so +cleverly that it was difficult to recognise her. I +went with her to her sitting room and there I +found the woman who had waited on her all her +life long. I knew her well for she had often +scolded me for leading Agnes into danger.</p> +<p>“I ate lunch with Agnes and during it I told +her to transfer all her money not required for +travelling expenses to the Bank of New York; +and I promised to go at once and secure a passage +for herself and maid––for seeing that the <i>Atlantic</i> +would leave her dock for New York about the +noon hour of the next day, haste was necessary. +I did not wish to go to Liverpool because of my +two engagements, but Agnes was so insistent on +my presence I could not refuse her. Well, perhaps +I was wrong to yield to her entreaties.”</p> +<p>“No, hardly,” said Ragnor. “Going on board +a big steamer at Liverpool must be a muddling +business––not fit for two simple women like Agnes +Henderson and her maid.”</p> +<p>“I don’t remember thinking of that but I could +hear my friend Willie telling me, ‘See her safe on +board, Ian. Don’t leave her till she is in the captain’s +care. Do this for me, Ian!’ And I did it +for both Agnes’ and Willie’s sake but mainly for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +Willie’s, for I love him. He is my right-hand +friend, always. Perhaps I did wrong.”</p> +<p>“It is a pity there was any mystification about +it. Was it necessary for Agnes Henderson to disguise +herself?”</p> +<p>“Perhaps not, but it prevented trouble and disappointment. +Her father supposed her to be at +her uncle’s home. On Saturday afternoon he went +to see her and found she had not been there at all. +He returned to Edinburgh and could get no trace +of her, nor was she located until I returned and +informed him that she was on the <i>Atlantic</i>.”</p> +<p>There was a few moments of silence and then +Ian said, “Have I done anything unpardonable? +Surely you will not let that jealous, envious letter +stand between Thora and myself?”</p> +<p>Then Ragnor answered, “Tonight I will say +neither this nor that on the matter. I will sleep +over the subject and take counsel of One wiser +than myself. Thou had better do likewise. Many +things are to consider.”</p> +<p>And Ian went away without a word. There +was anger in his heart, and as he sat gloomily in +his dimly lit room and felt the damp chill of the +midnight, he told himself that he had been hardly +judged. “I have done nothing wrong,” he whispered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +passionately. “Old McLeod collected his +own rents and looked after his own property and +no one thought he did wrong. He was an elder +in one of the largest Edinburgh kirks and the favourite +chairman in missionary meetings, but because +I did not go to kirk, what was business in +him was sin in me.</p> +<p>“As to the gambling houses, I had nothing to +do with them but to collect lawful money, due the +McLeod estate; and as far as I can see, men who +gamble for money are quite respectable if they +get what they gamble for. There was that old +reprobate Lord Sinclair. He redeemed the Sinclair +estates by gambling and he married the beautiful +daughter of the noble Seaforths. Nobody +blamed him. Pshaw! It is all a matter of money––or +it is my ill luck.” And to such irritating reflections +he finally fell asleep.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_THE_BREAD_OF_BITTERNESS' id='CHAPTER_IX_THE_BREAD_OF_BITTERNESS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>THE BREAD OF BITTERNESS</h3> +</div> +<p class='dropcap'><span class="dcap">Sorrow</span> develops the mind. It seems as if +a soul was given us to suffer with––</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Dust to dust, but the pure spirit shall flow<br /> +Back to the burning fountain whence it came<br /> +A portion of the Eternal which must glow<br /> +Through time and change unalterably the same.<br /> +<br /> +Our endless need is met by God’s endless help.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>At her room door Thora bid her mother +good night. Rahal desired to talk with her, +but the girl shook her head and said wearily, “I +want to think, Mother. I have no heart to +speak yet.” And Rahal turned sadly away. She +knew that hour, that her child had come to a door +for which she had no key and she left her alone +with the situation she had to face. Nor did Thora +just then realize that within the past hour her +girlhood had vanished, and that she had suddenly +become a woman with a woman’s fate upon her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +and a woman’s heart-rending problem to solve.</p> +<p>How it came she did not enquire, yet she did +recognise some change in herself. Hitherto, all +her troubles had been borne by her father or +mother. This trouble was her very own. No one +could carry it for her but without any hesitation +she accepted it. “I must find out the very root +of this matter,” she said to herself, “and I will not +go to bed until I do. Nor is it half-asleep I will be +over the question. I will sit up and be wide +awake.”</p> +<p>So she put more peat and coal on her fire and +lit a fresh candle; removed her day clothing and +wrapped herself in a large down cloak. And the +night was not cold for there was a southerly wind, +and the gulf stream embraces the Orkneys, giving +them an abnormally warm climate for their far-north +latitude. And she had a passing wonder at +herself for these precautions. A year ago, a week +ago, she would have thrown herself upon her bed +in passionate weeping or clung to her mother and +talked her sorrow away in her loving sympathy +and advice.</p> +<p>But at this supreme hour of her life, she wanted +to be alone. She did not wish to talk about Ian +with any one. She was wide awake, quite sensible +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +of the pain and grief at her heart, yet tearless and +calm. Never before had she felt that dignity of +soul, which looks straight into the face of its sorrow +and feels itself equal to the bearing of it. +She had as yet no idea that during that evening +she had passed through that wonderful heart-experience, +which suddenly ripens girlhood into +womanhood. Indeed, they will be thoughtless +girls––whatever their age––who can read this +sentence and not pause and recall that marvellous +transition in their own lives. To some it comes +with a great joy, to others with a great sorrow +but it is always a fateful event, and girls should +be ready to meet and salute it.</p> +<p>As soon as Thora had made herself and her +room comfortable, she sat down and closed her +eyes. All her life she had noticed that her mother +shut her eyes when she wanted to think. Now +she did the same, and then softly called Ian Macrae +to the judgment of her heart and her inner +senses, but she did it as naturally as women equally +ignorant have done it in all ages, taking or refusing +their advice or verdict as directed by their +dominant desire, or their reason or unreason.</p> +<p>With almost supernatural clearness she recalled +his beautiful, yet troubled face, his hesitating manner, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +his restlessness in his chair, his nervous trifling +with his watch chain or his finger ring. She recalled +the fact that his voice had in it a strange +tone and that his eyes reflected a soul fearful and +angry. It was an unfamiliar Ian she called up, +but oh! if it could ever become a familiar one.</p> +<p>The first subject that pressed her for consideration +was the suspicion of gambling. Certainly +Ian had promptly denied the charge. He had +even said that he never was in the gambling parlours +but once, when he went into them very early +with the porter, to assure himself that some new +carpets asked for were really wanted. “Then,” +he added, “I found out that the demand was made +by one of the club members, who had a friend who +was a carpet manufacturer and expected to supply +what was considered necessary.”</p> +<p>It must be recalled here that Norsemen, though +sharp and keen in business matters, have no gambling +fever in their blood. To get money and give +nothing for it! That goes too far beyond their +idea of fair business, and as for pleasure, they +have never connected it with the paper kings and +queens. They find in the sea and their ships, in +adventure, in music and song, in dancing and story +telling, all of pleasure they require. A common +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +name for a pack of cards is “the devil’s books,” +and in Orkney they have but few readers.</p> +<p>Thora had partially exonerated Ian from the +charge of gambling when she remembered Jean +Hay’s assertion that “wherever horses were racing, +there Ian was sure to be and that he had been +named in the newspapers as a winner on the horse +Sergius.” Ian had passed by this circumstance, +and her father had either intentionally or unintentionally +done the same. Once she had heard +Vedder say that “horse racing produced finer and +faster horses”; and she remembered well, that her +father asked in reply, “If it was well to produce +finer and faster horses, at the cost of making +horsier men?” And he had further said that he +did not know of any uglier type of man than a +“betting book in breeches.” She thought a little +on this subject and then decided Ian ought to be +talked to about it.</p> +<p>Her lover’s neglect of the Sabbath was the next +question, for Thora was a true and loving daughter +of the Church of England. Episcopacy was +the kernel of her faith. She believed all bishops +were just like Bishop Hedley and that the most +perfect happiness was found in the Episcopal +Communion. And she said positively to her heart––“It +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +is through the church door we will reach +the Home door, and I am sure Ian will go with +me to keep the Sabbath in the cathedral. Every +one goes to church in Kirkwall. He could not resist +such a powerful public example, and then he +would begin to like to go of his own inclination. +I could trust him on this point, I feel sure.”</p> +<p>When she took up the next doubt her brow +clouded and a shadow of annoyance blended itself +with her anxious, questioning expression. “His +name!” she muttered. “His name! Why did he +woo me under a false name? Mother says my +marriage to him under the name of Ian Macrae +would not be lawful. Of course he intended to +marry me with his proper name. He would have +been sure to tell us all before the marriage day––but +I saw father was angry and troubled at the +circumstance. He ought to have told us long +ago. Why didn’t he do so? I should have loved +him under any name. I should have loved him +better under John than Ian. John is a strong, +straight name. Great and good men in all ages +have made John honourable. It has no diminutive. +It can’t be made less than John. Englishmen +and lowland Scotch all say the four sensible +letters with a firm, strong voice; only the Celt +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +turns John into Ian. I will not call him Ian again. +Not once will I do it.”</p> +<p>Then she covered her eyes with her hand and a +sharp, chagrined catch of her breath broke the +hush of the still room. And her voice, though little +stronger than a whisper, was full of painful +wonder. “What will people say? What shall we +say? Oh, the shame! Oh, the mortification! +Who will now live in my pretty home? Who will +eat my wedding cake? What will become of my +wedding dress? Oh, Thora! Thora! Love has +led thee a shameful, cruel road! What wilt thou +do? What can thou do?”</p> +<p>Then a singular thing happened. A powerful +thought from some forgotten life came with irresistible +strength into her mind, and though she +did not speak the words suggested, she prayed +them––if prayer be that hidden, never-dying imploration +that goes with the soul from one incarnation +to another––for the words that sprang to +her memory must have been learned centuries before, +“Oh, Mary! Mary! Mother of Jesus +Christ! Thou that drank the cup of all a woman’s +griefs and wrongs, pray for me!”</p> +<p>And she was still and silent as the words passed +through her consciousness. She thought every one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +of them, they seemed at the moment so real and +satisfying. Then she began to wonder and ask +herself, “Where did those words come from? +When did I hear them? Where did I say them +before? How do they come to be in my memory? +From what strange depth of Life did they come? +Did I ever have a Roman Catholic nurse? Did +she whisper them to my soul, when I was sick +and suffering? I must ask mother––oh, how tired +and sleepy I feel––I will go to bed––I have done +no good, come to no decision. I will sleep––I will +tell mother in the morning––I wish I had let her +stop with me––mother always knows––what is the +best way–––” And thus the heart-breaking session +ended in that blessed hostel, The Inn of +Dreamless Sleep.</p> +<p>There was, however, little sleep in the House +of Ragnor that night, and very early in the morning +Ragnor, fully dressed, spoke to his wife. “Art +thou waking yet, Rahal?” he asked, and Rahal +answered, “I have slept little. I have been long +awake.”</p> +<p>“Well then, what dost thou think now of Ian +Macrae, so-called?”</p> +<p>“I think little amiss of him––some youthful follies––nothing +to make a fuss about.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span></div> +<p>“Hast thou considered that the follies of youth +may become the follies of manhood, and of age? +What then?”</p> +<p>“We are not told to worry about what may +be.”</p> +<p>“Ian has evidently been living and spending with +people far above his means and his class.”</p> +<p>“The Lowland Scotch regard a minister as socially +equal to any peer. Are not the servants of +God equal, and more than equal, to the servants +of the queen? No society is above either they +or their children. That I have seen always. And +young men of fine appearance and charming manners, +like Ian, are welcome in every home, high +or low. Yes, indeed!”</p> +<p>“Yet girls, as a rule, should not marry handsome +men with charming manners, unless there is +something better behind to rely on.”</p> +<p>“If thou had not been a handsome man with a +charming manner, Rahal would not have married +thee. What then?”</p> +<p>“I would have been a ruined man. I cared for +nothing but thee.”</p> +<p>“I believe that a girl of moral strength and +good intelligence should be trusted with the choice +of her destiny. It is not always that parents have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +a right to thrust a destiny they choose upon their +daughter. If a man is not as good and as rich +as they think she ought to marry they can point +this out, and if they convince their child, very +well; and if they do not convince her, also very +well. Perhaps the girl’s character requires just the +treatment it will evolve from a life of struggle.”</p> +<p>“Thou art talking nonsense, Rahal. Thy liking +for the young man has got the better of thy +good sense. I cannot trust thee in this matter.”</p> +<p>“Well then, Coll, the road to better counsel +than mine, is well known to thee.”</p> +<p>“I think Bishop Hedley arrived about an hour +ago. There were moving lights on the pier, and +as soon as the morning breaks I am going to see +him.”</p> +<p>“Have thy own way. When a man’s wife has +not the wisdom wanted, it is well that he go to his +Bishop, for Bishops are full of good counsel, even +for the ruling of seven churches, so I have +heard.”</p> +<p>“It is not hearsay between thee and Bishop Hedley. +Thou art well acquainted with him.”</p> +<p>“Well then, in the end thou wilt take thy own +way.”</p> +<p>“Dost thou want me to say ‘yes’ today, and rue +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +it tomorrow? I have no mind for any such foolishness.”</p> +<p>“Coll, this is a time when deeds will be better +than words.”</p> +<p>“I see that. Well then, the day breaks, and I +will go”––he lingered a minute or two fumbling +about his knitted gloves but Rahal was dressing +her hair and took no further notice. So he went +away in an affected hurry and both dissatisfied and +uncertain. “What a woman she is!” he sighed. +“She has said only good words, but I feel as if I +had broken every commandment at once.”</p> +<p>He went away full of trouble and anxiety, and +Rahal watched him down the garden path and +along the first stretch of the road. She knew by +his hurried steps and the nervous play of his +walking stick that he was both angry and troubled +and she was not very sorry.</p> +<p>“If it was his business standing and his good +name, instead of Thora’s happiness and good repute +that was the question, oh, how careful and +conciliatory he would be! How anxious to keep +his affairs from public discussion! It would be +anything rather than that! I have the same feeling +about Thora’s good name. The marriage +ought to go on for Thora’s sake. I do not want +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +the women of Kirkwall wondering who was to +blame. I do not want them coming to see me with +solemn looks and tearful voices. I could not endure +their pitying of ‘poor Miss Thora!’ They +would not dare go to Coll with their sympathetic +curiosity, but there are such women as Astar +Gager, and Lala Snackoll, and Thyra Peterson, +and Jorunna Flett. No one can keep them away +from a house in trouble. Thora must marry. I +see no endurable way to prevent it.”</p> +<p>Then being dressed she went to Thora’s room, +and gently opened the door. Thora was standing +at her mirror and she turned to her mother +with a smiling face. Rahal was astonished and +she said almost with a tone of disapproval, “I am +glad to see thee able to smile. I expected to find +thee weeping, and ill with weeping.”</p> +<p>“For a long time, for many hours, I was broken-hearted +but there came to me, Mother, a strange +consolation.” Then she told her mother about +the prayer she heard her soul say for her. “Not +one word did I speak, Mother. But someone +prayed for me. I heard them. And I was made +strong and satisfied, and fell into a sweet sleep, +though I had yet not solved the problem I had +proposed to solve before I slept.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span></div> +<p>“What was that problem?”</p> +<p>“First, whether I should marry John just as +he was, and trust the consequences to my influence +over him; or whether I should refuse him altogether +and forever; or whether I should wait and +see what he can do with my father and the good +Bishop, to help and strengthen him.” And as +Thora talked, Rahal’s face grew light and sweet +as she listened, and she answered––“Yes, my dear +one, that is the wonderful way! Some soul that +loved thee long, long ago, knew that thou wert in +great trouble. Some woman’s soul, perhaps, that +had lived and died for love. The kinship of our +souls far exceeds that of our bodies, and their +help is swift and sure. Be patient with Ian. That +is what I say.”</p> +<p>“But why that prayer? I never heard it before.”</p> +<p>“How little thou knowest of what thou hast +heard before! Two hundred years ago, all sorrowful, +unhappy women went to Mary with their +troubles.”</p> +<p>“They should not have done so. They could +have gone to Christ.”</p> +<p>“They thought Mary had suffered just what +they were suffering, and they thought that Christ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +had never known any of the griefs that break a +woman’s heart. Mary knew them, had felt them, +had wept and prayed over them. When my little +lad Eric died, I thought of Mary. My family +have only been one hundred years Protestants. +All of them must have loved thee well enough to +come and pray for thee. Thou had a great honour, +as well as a great comfort.”</p> +<p>“At any rate I did no wrong! I am glad, +Mother.”</p> +<p>“Wrong! Thou wilt see the Bishop today. +Ask him. He will tell thee that the English +Church and the English women gave up very reluctantly +their homage to Mary. Are not their +grand churches called after Peter and Paul and +other male saints? Dost thou think that Christ +loved Peter and Paul more than his mother? I +know better. Please God thou wilt know better +some day.”</p> +<p>“Churches are often called after Mary, as well +as the saints.”</p> +<p>“Not in Scotland.”</p> +<p>“There is one in Glasgow. Vedder told me he +used to hear Bishop Hedley preach there.”</p> +<p>“It is an Episcopal Church. Ask him about +thy dream. No, I mean thy soul’s experience.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span></div> +<p>“Thou said <i>dream</i>, Mother. It was not a +dream. I saw no one. I only heard a voice. It +is what we see in dreams that is important.”</p> +<p>“Now wilt thou come to thy breakfast?”</p> +<p>“Is <i>he</i> downstairs yet?”</p> +<p>“I will go and call him.”</p> +<p>Rahal, however, came to the table alone. She +said, “Ian asked that he might lie still and sleep +an hour or two. He has not slept all night long, +I think,” she added. “His voice sounded full of +trouble.”</p> +<p>So the two women ate their breakfast alone for +Ragnor did not return in time to join them. And +Rahal’s hopefulness left her, and she was silent +and her face had a grey, fearful expression that +Thora could not help noticing. “You look ill, +Mother!” she said, “and you were looking so +well when we came downstairs. What is it?”</p> +<p>“I know not. I feel as if I was going into a +black cloud. I wish that thy father would come +home. He is in trouble. I wonder then what is +the matter!”</p> +<p>In about an hour they saw Ragnor and the +Bishop coming towards the house together.</p> +<p>“They are in trouble, Thora, both of them are +in trouble.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span></div> +<p>“About Thora they need not to be in trouble. +She will do what they advise her to do.”</p> +<p>“It is not thee.”</p> +<p>“What then?”</p> +<p>“I will not name my fear, lest I call it to me.”</p> +<p>Then she rose and went to the door and Thora +followed her, and by this time, Ragnor and the +Bishop were at the garden gate. Very soon the +Bishop was holding their hands, and Rahal found +when he released her hand that he had left a letter +in it. Yet for a moment she hardly noticed the +fact, so shocked was she at the expression of her +husband’s face. He looked so much older, his +eyes were two wells of sorrow, his distress had +passed beyond words, and when she asked, “What +is thy trouble, Coll?” he looked at her pitifully +and pointed to the letter. Then she took Thora’s +hand and they went to her room together.</p> +<p>Sitting on the side of her bed, she broke the +seal and looked at the superscription. “It is from +Adam Vedder,” she said, as she began to read it. +No other word escaped her lips until she came to +the end of the long epistle. Then she laid it down +on the bed beside her and shivered out the words, +“Boris is dying. Perhaps dead. Oh, Boris! My +son Boris! Read for thyself.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span></div> +<p>So Thora read the letter. It contained a vivid +description of the taking of a certain small battery, +which was pouring death and destruction on +the little British company, who had gone as a forlorn +hope to silence its fire. They were picked +volunteers and they were led by Boris Ragnor. +He had made a breach in its defences and carried +his men over the cannon to victory. At the last +moment he was shot in the throat and received a +deadly wound in the side, as he tore from the hands +of the Ensign the flag of his regiment, wrote Vedder.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>I saw the fight between the men. I was carrying +water to the wounded on the hillside. I, and several +others, rushed to the side of Boris. He held the flag +so tightly that no hand could remove it, and we carried +it with him to the hospital. For two days he remained +there, then he was carefully removed to my house, +not very far away, and now he has not only one of +Miss Nightingale’s nurses always with him but also +myself. As for Sunna, she hardly ever leaves him. +He talks constantly of thee and his father and sister. +He sends all his undying love, and if indeed these +wounds mean his death, he is dying gloriously and +happily, trusting God implicitly, and loving even his +enemies––a thing Adam Vedder cannot understand. +He found out before he was twenty years old that +loving his enemies was beyond his power and that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +nothing could make him forgive them. Our dear +Boris! Oh, Rahal! Rahal! Poor stricken mother! +God comfort thee, and tell thyself every minute “My +boy has won a glorious death and he is going the way +of all flesh, honoured and loved by all who ever knew +him.”</p> +</blockquote> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Thy true friend, <br /></p> +<p class='ralign cg'><span class='smcap'>Adam Vedder.</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/img2.jpg' alt='' title='' width='322' height='500' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +He made a breach in its defences and carried his men over cannon to victory.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>This letter upset all other considerations, and +when Ian came downstairs at the dinner hour, he +found no one interested enough in his case to take +it up with the proper sense of its importance. +Ragnor was steeped in silent grief. Rahal had +shut up her sorrow behind dry eyes and a closed +mouth. The Bishop had taken the seat next to +Thora. He felt as if no one had missed or even +thought of him. And such conversation as there +was related entirely to the war. Thora smiled at +him across the table, but he was not pleased at +Thora being able to smile; and he only returned +the courtesy with a doleful shake of the head.</p> +<p>After dinner Ian said something about going +to see McLeod, and then the Bishop interfered––“No, +Ian,” he replied, “I want you to walk as +far as the cathedral with me. Will you do that?”</p> +<p>“With pleasure, sir.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span></div> +<p>“Then let us be going, while there is yet a little +sunshine.”</p> +<p>The cathedral doors stood open, but there was +no one present except a very old woman, who at +their approach rose from her knees and painfully +walked away. The Bishop altered his course, so +as to greet her––“Good afternoon, Sister Odd! +Art thou suffering yet?”</p> +<p>“Only the pain that comes with many years, sir. +God makes it easy for me. Wilt thou bless me?”</p> +<p>“Thou hast God’s blessing. Who can add to +it? God be with thee to the very end!”</p> +<p>“Enough is that. Thy hand a moment, sir.”</p> +<p>For a moment they, stood silently hand clasped, +then parted, and the Bishop walked straight to +the vestry and taking a key from his pocket, +opened the door. There was a fire laid ready for +the match and he stooped and lit it, and Ian placed +his chair near by.</p> +<p>“That is good!” he said. “Bring your own +chair near to me, Ian, I have something to say to +you.”</p> +<p>“I am glad of that, Bishop. No one seemed +to care for my sorrow. I was made to feel this +day the difference between a son and a son-in-law.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span></div> +<p>“There is a difference, a natural one, but you +have been treated as a son always. Ragnor has +told me all about those charges. You may speak +freely to me. It is better that you should do so.”</p> +<p>“I explained the charges to the whole family. +Do they not believe me?”</p> +<p>“The explanation was only partial and one-sided. +I think the charge of gambling may be put +aside, with your promise to abstain from the appearance +of evil for the future. I understand your +position about the Sabbath. You should have gone +on singing in some church. Supposing you got no +spiritual help from it, you were at least lifting the +souls of others on the wings of holy song, and +you need not have mocked at the devout feelings +of others by music unfit for the day.”</p> +<p>“It was a bit of boyish folly.”</p> +<p>“It was something far more than that. I had +a letter from Jean Hay more than two months +ago and I investigated every charge she made +against you.”</p> +<p>“Well, Bishop?”</p> +<p>“I find that, examined separately, they do not +indicate any settled sinfulness; but taken together +they indicate a variable temper, a perfectly untrained +nature, and a weak, unresisting will. Now, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +Ian, a weak, good man is a dangerous type of a +bad man. They readily become the tools of +wicked men of powerful intellect and determined +character. I have met with many such cases. +Your change of name–––”</p> +<p>“Oh, sir, I could not endure Calvin tacked on +to me! If you knew what I have suffered!”</p> +<p>“I know it all. Why did you not tell the Ragnors +on your first acquaintance with them?”</p> +<p>“Mrs. Ragnor liked Ian because it is the Highland +form for John, and Thora loved the name +and I did not like, while they knew so little of +me, to tell them I had only assumed it. I watched +for a good opportunity to speak concerning it and +none came. Then I thought I would consult you +at this time, before the wedding day.”</p> +<p>“I could not have married you under the name +of Ian. Discard it at once. Take it as a pet name +between Thora and yourself, if you choose. No +doubt you thought Ian was prettier and more romantic +and suitable for your really handsome person.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Bishop, do not humiliate me! I–––”</p> +<p>“I have no doubt I am correct. I have known +young men wreck their lives for some equally foolish +idea.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span></div> +<p>“I will cast it off today. I will tell Thora the +truth tonight. Before we are married, I will advertise +it in next week’s <i>News</i>.”</p> +<p>“Before you are married, I trust you will have +made the name of John Macrae so famous that +you will need no such advertising.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean, Bishop?”</p> +<p>“I want you to go to the trenches at Redan or +to fight your way into Sebastopol. You have been +left too much to your own direction and your own +way. Obedience is the first round of the ladder +of Success. You must learn it. You can only +be a subordinate till you manage this lesson. Your +ideas of life are crude and provincial. You need +to see men making their way upward, in some +other places than in shops and offices. Above all, +you must learn to conquer yourself and your indiscreet +will. You are not a man, until you are +master in your own house and fear no mutiny +against your Will to act nobly. You have had +no opportunities for such education. Now take +one year to begin it.”</p> +<p>“You mean that I must put off my marriage +for a year.”</p> +<p>“Exactly. Under present circumstances–––”</p> +<p>“Oh, sir, that is not thinkable! It would be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +too mortifying! I could not go back to Edinburgh. +I could not put off my marriage!”</p> +<p>“You will be obliged to do so. Do you imagine +the Ragnors will hold wedding festivities, while +their eldest son is dying, or his broken body on +its way home for burial?”</p> +<p>“I thought the ceremony would be entirely religious +and the festivities could be abandoned.”</p> +<p>“Is that what you wish?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Bishop.”</p> +<p>“Then you will not get it. A year’s strict +mourning is due the dead, and the Ragnors will +give every hour of it. Boris is their eldest +son.”</p> +<p>“They should remember also their living daughter +Thora will suffer as well as myself.”</p> +<p>“You are not putting yourself in a good light, +John Macrae. Thora loves her brother with a +great affection. Do you think she can comfort +her grief for his loss, by giving you any loving +honour that belongs to him? You do not know +Thora Ragnor. She has her mother’s just, strong +character below all her gentle ways, and what her +father and mother say she will endorse, without +question or reluctance. Now I know that Ragnor +had resolved on a year’s separation and discipline, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +before he heard of his son’s dangerous condition.”</p> +<p>“Boris was not dead when that Vedder letter +was written. He may not be dead now. He may +not be going to die.”</p> +<p>“It is only his wonderful physical strength that +has kept him alive so long. Vedder said to me, +they looked for his death at any hour. He cannot +recover. His wound is a fatal one. It is +beyond hope. Vedder wrote while he was yet +alive, so that he might perhaps break the blow to +his family.”</p> +<p>“What then do you advise me to do?”</p> +<p>“Ragnor intends to go back with you and myself +to Edinburgh. He will see your father and +offer to buy you a commission as ensign in a good +infantry regiment. We will ask your father if he +will join in the plan.”</p> +<p>“My father will not join in anything to help +me. How much will an ensign’s commission +cost?”</p> +<p>“I think four or five hundred pounds. Ragnor +would pay half, if your father would pay half.”</p> +<p>Then Ian rose to his feet, and his eyes blazed +with a fire no one had ever seen there before. +“Bishop,” he said, “I thank you for all you propose, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +but if I go to the trenches at Redan or the +camp at Sebastopol, I will go on John Macrae’s +authority and personality. I have one hundred +pounds, that is sufficient. I can learn all the great +things you expect me to learn there better among +the rankers than the officers. I have known the +officers at Edinburgh Castle. They were not fit +candidates for a bishopric.”</p> +<p>The good man looked sadly at the angry youth +and answered, “Go and talk the matter over with +Thora.”</p> +<p>“I will. Surely she will be less cruel.”</p> +<p>“What do you wish, considering present circumstances?”</p> +<p>“I want the marriage carried out, devoid of all +but its religious ceremony. I want to spend one +month in the home prepared for us, and then I +will submit to the punishment and schooling proposed.”</p> +<p>“No, you will not. Do not throw away this +opportunity to retrieve your so far neglected, misguided +life. There is a great man in you, if you +will give him space and opportunity to develop, +John. This is the wide open door of Opportunity; +go through, and go up to where it will lead +you. At any rate do whatever Thora advises. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +can trust you as far as Thora can.” Then he held +out his hand, and Ian, too deeply moved to speak, +took it and left the cathedral without a word.</p> +<p>He found Thora alone in the parlour. She had +evidently been weeping but that fact did not much +soothe his sense of wrong and injustice. He felt +that he had been put aside in some measure. He +was not sure that even now Thora had been weeping +for his loss. He told himself, she was just as +likely to have been mourning for Boris. He felt +that he was unjustly angry but, oh, he was so +hopeless! Every one was ready to give him advice, +no one had said to him those little words of +loving sympathy for which his heart was hungry. +He had felt it to be his duty to try and console +Thora, and Thora had wept in his arms and he +had kissed her tears away. She was now weary +with weeping and suffering with headache. She +knew also that talking against any decision of +her father’s was useless. When he had said the +word, the man or woman that could move him did +not live. Acceptance of the will of others was +a duty she had learned to observe all her life, it +was just the duty that Ian had thought it right to +resist. So amid all his love and disappointment, +there was a cruel sense of being of secondary interest +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +and importance, just at the very time he had +expected to be first in everyone’s love and consideration.</p> +<p>Finally he said, “Dear Thora, I can feel no +longer. My heart has become hopeless. I suffer +too much. I will go to my room and try and +submit to this last cruel wrong.”</p> +<p>Then Thora was offended. “There is no one +to blame for this last cruel wrong but thyself,” +she answered. “The death of Boris was a nearer +thing to my father and mother than my marriage. +Thy marriage can take place at some other time, +but for my dear brother there is no future in +this life.”</p> +<p>“Are you even sure of his death?”</p> +<p>“My mother has seen him.”</p> +<p>“That is nonsense.”</p> +<p>“To you, I dare say it is. Mother sees more +than any one else can see. She has spiritual vision. +We are not yet able for it, nor worthy of +it.”</p> +<p>“Then why did she not see our wedding catastrophe? +She might have averted it by changing +the date.”</p> +<p>“Ask her;” and as Thora said these words and +wearily closed her eyes, Rahal entered the room. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +She went straight to Ian, put her arms round him +and kissed him tenderly. Then Ian could bear no +more. He sobbed like a boy of seven years old +and she wept with him.</p> +<p>“Thou poor unloved laddie!” she said. “If +thou had gone wrong, it would have been little +wonder and little blame to thyself. I think thou +did all that could be done, with neither love nor +wisdom to help thee. Rahal does not blame thee. +Rahal pities and loves thee. Thou hast been +cowed and frightened and punished for nothing, +all the days of thy sad life. Poor lad! Poor, disappointed +laddie! With all my heart and soul I +pity thee!”</p> +<p>For a few moments there was not a word +spoken and the sound of Ian’s bitter weeping filled +the room. Ian had been flogged many a time when +but a youth, and had then disdained to utter a +cry, but no child in its first great sorrow, ever +wept so heart-brokenly as Ian now wept in Rahal’s +arms. And a man weeping is a fearsome, pitiful +sound. It goes to a woman’s heart like a sword, +and Thora rose and went to her lover and drew +him to the sofa and sat down at his side and, with +promises wet with tears, tried to comfort him. A +strange silence that the weeping did not disturb +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +was in the house and room, and in the kitchen the +servants paused in their work and looked at each +other with faces full of pity.</p> +<p>“The Wise One has put trouble on their heads,” +said a woman who was dressing a goose to roast +for dinner and her helper answered, “And there +is no use striving against it. What must be, is +sure to happen. That is Right.”</p> +<p>“All that we have done, is no good. Fate rules +in this thing. I see that.”</p> +<p>“The trouble came on them unawares. And +if Death is at the beginning, no course that can +be taken is any good.”</p> +<p>“What is the Master’s will? For in the end, +that will orders all things.”</p> +<p>“The mistress said the marriage would be put +off for a year. The young man goes to the war.”</p> +<p>“No wonder then he cries out. It is surely +a great disappointment.”</p> +<p>“Tom Snackoll had the same ill luck. He made +no crying about it. He hoisted sail at midnight +and stole his wife Vestein out of her window, +and when her father caught them, they were man +and wife. And Snackoll went out to speak to his +father-in-law and he said to him, ‘My wife can not +see thee today, for she is weary and I think it best +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +for her to be still and quiet’; and home the father +went and no good of his journey. Snackoll got +praise for his daring.”</p> +<p>“Well then,” said a young man who had just +entered, “it is well known that Vestein and her +father and mother were all fully willing. The girl +could as easily have gone out of the door as the +window. Snackoll is a boaster. He is as great in +his talk as a fox in his tail.”</p> +<p>Thus the household of Ragnor talked in the +kitchen, and in the parlour Rahal comforted the +lovers, and cheered and encouraged Ian so greatly +that she was finally able to say to them:</p> +<p>“The wedding day was not lucky. Let it pass. +There is another, only a year away, that will bring +lasting joy. Now we have wept over our mischance, +we will bury it and look to the future. +We will go and wash away sorrow and put on +fresh clothes, and look forward to the far better +marriage a year hence.”</p> +<p>And her voice and manner were so persuasive, +that they willingly obeyed her advice and, as they +passed her, she kissed them both and told Ian to +put his head in cold water and get rid of its aching +fever, for she said, “The Bishop will want thee +to sing some of thy Collects and Hymns and thou +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span> +wilt like to please him. He is thy good friend.”</p> +<p>“I do not think so.”</p> +<p>“He is. Thou may take that, on my word.”</p> +<p>The evening brought a braver spirit. They +talked of Boris and of his open-hearted, open-air +life, and the Bishop read aloud several letters from +young men then at the front. They were full of +enthusiasm. They might have been read to an +accompaniment of fife and drums. Ian was visibly +affected and made no further demur about joining +them. One of them spoke of Boris “leading +his volunteers up the hill like a lion”; and another +letter described his tenderness to the wounded and +convalescents, saying “he spent his money freely, +to procure them little comforts they could not get +for themselves.”</p> +<p>They talked plainly and from their hearts, hesitating +not to call his name, and so they brought +comfort to their heavy sorrow. For it is a selfish +thing to shut up a sorrow in the heart, far +better to look at it full in the face, speak of it, discuss +its why and wherefore and break up that false +sanctity which is very often inspired by purely +selfish sentiments. And when this point was +reached, the Bishop took from his pocket a small +copy of the Apocrypha and said, “Now I will tell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +you what the wisest of men said of such an early +death as that of our dear Boris:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“‘He pleased God, and he was beloved of him, so +that living among sinners, he was translated.</p> +<p>“‘Yea speedily was he taken away, lest that wickedness +should alter his understanding, or deceit beguile +his soul.</p> +<p>“‘He, being made perfect in a short time, fulfilled +a long time.</p> +<p>“‘For his soul pleased the Lord, therefore hasted he +to take him away from among the wicked.’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And these words fell like heavenly dew on every +heart. There was no comfort and honour greater +than this to offer even a mother’s heart. A happy +sigh greeted the blessed verses, and there was no +occasion to speak. There was no word that could +be added to it.</p> +<p>Then Ian had a happy thought for before a +spell-breaking word could be said, he stepped +softly to the piano and the next moment the room +was ringing with some noble lines from the “Men +of Harlech” set to notes equally stirring:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Men of Harlech, young or hoary,<br /> +Would you win a name in story,<br /> +Strike for home, for life, for glory,<br /> +Freedom, God and Right!<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span><br /> +“Onward! ’Tis our country needs us,<br /> +He is bravest, he who leads us,<br /> +Honour’s self now proudly leads us,<br /> +Freedom! God and Right!<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>Loose the folds asunder!<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>Flag we conquer under!<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>Death is glory now.”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>The words were splendidly sung and the room +was filled with patriotic fervour. Then the +Bishop gave Ragnor and Thora a comforting +look, as he asked, “Who wrote that song, Ian?”</p> +<p>“Ah, sir, it was never written! It sprang from +the heart of some old Druid priest as he was urging +on the Welsh to drive the Romans from their +country. It is two verses from ‘The Song of the +Men of Harlech.’”</p> +<p>“In olden times, Ian, the bards went to the battlefield +with the soldiers. We ought to send our +singers to the trenches. Ian, go and sing to the +men of England and of France ‘The Song of the +Men of Harlech.’ Your song will be stronger +than your sword.”</p> +<p>“I will sing it to my sword, sir. It will make it +sharper.” Then Rahal said, “You are a brave +boy, Ian,” and Thora lifted her lovely face and +kissed him.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span></div> +<p>Every heart was uplifted, and the atmosphere +of the room was sensitive with that exalted feeling +which finds no relief in speech. Humanity +soon reacts against such tension. There was a +slight movement, every one breathed heavily, like +people awakening from sleep, and the Bishop said +in a slow, soft voice:</p> +<p>“I was thinking of Boris. After all, the dear +lad may return to us. Surgeons are very clever +now, they can almost work miracles.”</p> +<p>“Boris will not return,” said Rahal.</p> +<p>“How can you know that, Rahal?”</p> +<p>“He told me so.”</p> +<p>“Have you seen him?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“When?”</p> +<p>“On the afternoon of the eleventh of this +month.”</p> +<p>“How?”</p> +<p>“Well, Bishop, I was making the cap I am +wearing and I was selecting from some white roses +on my lap the ones I thought best. Suddenly Boris +stood at my side.”</p> +<p>“You saw him?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Bishop. I saw him plainly, though I do +not remember lifting my head.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span></div> +<p>“How did he look?”</p> +<p>“Like one who had just won a victory. He was +much taller and grander in appearance. Oh, he +looked like one who had realized God’s promise +that we should be satisfied. A kind of radiance +was around him and the air of a conquering soldier. +And he was my boy still! He called me +‘Mother,’ he sent such a wonderful message to +his father.” And at the last word, Ragnor uttered +just such a sharp, short gasp as might have +come from the rift of a broken heart.</p> +<p>“Did you ask him any question, Rahal?”</p> +<p>“I could not speak, but my soul longed to know +what he was doing and the longing was immediately +answered. ‘I am doing the will of the Lord +of Hosts,’ he said. ‘I was needed here.’ Then +I felt his kiss on my cheek, and I lifted my head +and looked at the clock. It had struck three just +as I was conscious of the presence of Boris. It +was only two minutes past three, but I seemed to +have lived hours in that two minutes.”</p> +<p>“Do you think, Bishop, that God loves a soldier? +He may employ them and yet not love +them?”</p> +<p>Then the Bishop straightened himself and +lifted his head, and his face glowed and his eyes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +shone as he answered, “I will give you one example, +it could be multiplied indefinitely. Paul +of Tarsus, a pale, beardless young man, dressed +as a Roman soldier, is bringing prisoners to Damascus. +Christ meets him on the road and Paul +knows instantly that he has met the Captain of his +soul. Hence forward, he is beloved and honoured +and employed for Christ, and at the end of life +he is joyful because he has fought a good +fight and knows that his reward is waiting +for him.</p> +<p>“God has given us the names of many soldiers +beloved of Him––Abraham, Moses, Joshua, Gideon, +David, etc. What care he took of them! +What a friend in all extremities he was to them! +All men who fight for their Faith, Home and +Country, for Freedom, Justice and Liberty, are +God’s armed servants. They do His will on the +battlefield, as priests do it at the altar. So then,</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“In the world’s broad field of battle,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>In the bivouac of life,<br /> +Be not like dumb driven cattle,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Be a hero in the strife!”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“We were speaking of the bards going to the +battlefield with the soldiers, and as I was quoting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +that verse of Longfellow’s a few lines from the +old bard we call Ossian came into my mind.”</p> +<p>“Tell us, then,” said Thora, “wilt thou not say +the words to us, our dear Bishop?”</p> +<p>“I will do that gladly:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Father of Heroes, high dweller of eddying winds,<br /> +Where the dark, red thunder marks the troubled cloud,<br /> +Open Thou thy stormy hall!<br /> +Let the bards of old be near.<br /> +Father of heroes! the people bend before thee.<br /> +Thou turnest the battle in the field of the brave,<br /> +Thy terrors pour the blasts of death,<br /> +Thy tempests are before thy face,<br /> +But thy dwelling is calm above the clouds,<br /> +The fields of thy rest are pleasant.”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“When I was a young man,” he continued, “I +used to read Ossian a good deal. I liked its vast, +shadowy images, its visionary incompleteness, just +because we have not yet invented the precise words +to describe the indescribable.”</p> +<p>So they talked, until the frugal Orcadian supper +of oatmeal and milk, and bread and cheese, appeared. +Then the night closed and sealed what +the day had done, and there was no more speculation +about Ian’s future. The idea of a military +life as a school for the youth had sprung up strong +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +and rapidly, and he was now waiting, almost impatiently, +for it to be translated into action.</p> +<p>A few restful, pleasant days followed. Ragnor +was preparing to leave his business for a week, the +Bishop was settling some parish difficulties, and +Ian and Thora were permitted to spend their time +as they desired. They paid one farewell visit to +their future home and found an old woman who +had nursed Thora in charge of the place.</p> +<p>“Thou wilt find everything just so, when you +two come home together, my baby,” she said. +“Not a pin will be out of its place, not a speck of +dust on anything. Eva will always be ready, and +please God you may call her far sooner than you +think for.”</p> +<p>The Sabbath, the last Sabbath of the old year, +was to be their last day together, and the Bishop +desired Ian to make it memorable with song. Ian +was delighted to do so and together they chose +for his two solos, “O for the Wings of a Dove,” +and the heavenly octaves of “He Hath Ascended +Up on High and Led Captivity Captive.” The +old cathedral’s great spaces were crowded, the +Bishop was grandly in the spirit, and he easily led +his people to that solemn line where life verges +on death and death touches Immortality. It was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span> +Christ the beginning, and the end; Christ the victim +on the cross, and Christ the God of the Ascension! +And he sent every one home with the +promise of Immortality in their souls and the light +of it on their faces. His theme had touched +largely on the Christ of the Resurrection, and the +mystery and beauty of this Christ was made familiar +to them in a way they had not before considered.</p> +<p>Ragnor was afraid it had perhaps been brought +too close to their own conception of a soul, who +was seen on earth after the death of the body. +“You told the events of Christ’s forty days on +earth after His crucifixion so simply, Bishop,” +he said, “and yet with much of the air that our +people tell a ghost story.”</p> +<p>“Well then, dear Conall, I was telling them +the most sacred ghost story of the world, and yet +it is the most literal reality in history. If it were +only a dream, it would be the most dynamic event +in human destiny.”</p> +<p>“You see, Bishop, there is so much in your way +of preaching. It has that kind of good comradeship +which I think was so remarkable in Christ. +His style was not the ten commandments’ style––thou +shalt and thou shalt not––but that reasoning, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +brotherly way of ‘What man is there among you +that would not do the kind and right thing?’ You +used it this very morning when you cried out, ‘If +our dear England needed your help to save her +Liberty and Life, what man is there among you +that would not rise up like lions to save her?’ +And the men could hardly sit still. It was so real, +so brotherly, so unlike preaching.”</p> +<p>“Conall, nothing is so wonderful and beautiful +in Christ’s life as its almost incredible approachableness.”</p> +<p>This sermon had been preached on the Sabbath +morning and it spiritualized the whole day. +Ian’s singing also had proved a wonderful service, +for when the young men of that day became old +men, they could be heard leading their crews in +the melodious, longing strains of ‘O for the Wings +of a Dove,’ as they sat casting their lines into the +restless water.</p> +<p>In the evening a cold, northwesterly wind +sprang up and Thora and Ian retreated to the +parlour, where a good fire had been built; but +the Bishop and Ragnor and Rahal drew closer +round the hearth in the living room and talked, +and were silent, as their hearts moved them. Rahal +had little to say. She was thinking of Ian +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +and of the new life he was going to, and of the +long, lonely days that might be the fate of Thora. +“The woeful laddie!” she whispered, “he has had +but small chances of any kind. What can a lad +do for himself and no mother able to help him!”</p> +<p>The Bishop heard or divined her last words and +he said, “Be content, Rahal. Not one, but many +lives we hold, and our hail to every new work we +begin is our farewell to the old work. Ian is +going to give a Future to his Past.”</p> +<p>“I fear, Bishop–––”</p> +<p>“Fear is from the earthward side, Rahal. +Above the clouds of Fear, there is the certain +knowledge of Heaven. Fear is nothing, Faith is +everything!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_THE_ONE_REMAINS_THE_MANY_CHANGE_AND_PASS' id='CHAPTER_X_THE_ONE_REMAINS_THE_MANY_CHANGE_AND_PASS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>THE ONE REMAINS, THE MANY CHANGE AND PASS</h3> +</div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>You Scotsmen are a pertinacious brood;<br /> +Fitly you wear the thistle in your cap,<br /> +As in your grim theology.<br /> +O we’re not all so fierce! God knows you’ll find,<br /> +Well-combed and smooth-licked gentlemen enough,<br /> +Who will rejoice with you<br /> +To sneer at Calvin’s close-wedged creed.<br /></p> +<p class='ralign cg'>––<span class='smcap'>Blackie.</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Sow not in Sorrow,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Fling your seed abroad, and know <br /> +God sends tomorrow,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The rain to make it grow.<br /></p> +<p class='ralign cg'>––<span class='smcap'>Blackie.</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p class='dropcap'><span class="dcap">There</span> are epochs in every life that cut it +sharply asunder, its continuity is broken +and things can never be the same again. This was +the dominant feeling that came to Thora Ragnor, +as she sat with her mother one afternoon in early +January. It was a day of Orkney’s most uncomfortable +and depressing kind, the whole island being +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +swept by drifting clouds of vapour, which not +only filled the atmosphere but also the houses, so +that everything was to the touch damp and uncomfortable. +Nothing could escape its miserable +contact, even sitting on the hearthstone its power +was felt; and until a good northwester came to +dissipate the damp moisture, nobody expected +much from any one’s temper.</p> +<p>Thora was restless and unhappy. Her life appeared +to have been suddenly deprived of all joy +and sunshine. She felt as if everything was at an +end, or might as well be, and her mother’s placid, +peaceful face irritated her. How could she sit +knitting mufflers for the soldiers in the trenches, +and not think of Boris and also of Ian, whom they +had all conspired to send to the same danger and +perhaps death? She could not understand her +mother’s serenity. It occurred to her this afternoon, +that she might have run away with Ian +to Shetland and there her sisters would have seen +her married; and she did not do this, she obeyed +her parents, and what did she get for it? Loneliness +and misery and her lover sent far away from +her. Oh, those moments when Virtue has failed +to reward us and we regret having served her! +To the young, they are sometimes very bitter.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span></div> +<p>And her mother’s calmness! It not only astonished, +it angered her. How could she sit still +and not talk of Boris and Ian? It was a necessary +relief to Thora, their names were at her lips all +day long. But Thora had yet to learn that it is +the middle-aged and the old who have the power +of hoping through everything, because they have +the knowledge that the soul survives all its adventures. +This is the great inspiration, it is the +good wine which God keeps to the last. The old, +the way-worn, the faint and weary, they know this +as the young can never know it.</p> +<p>However, we may say to bad weather, as to all +other bad things, “this, too, will pass,” and in a +couple of days the sky was blue, the sun shining, +and the atmosphere fresh and clear and full of +life-giving energy. Ships of all kinds were hastening +into the harbour and the mail boat, broad-bottomed +and strongly built, was in sight. Then +there was a little real anxiety. There was sure to +be letters, what news would they bring? Some +people say there is no romance in these days. +Very far wrong are they. These sealed bits of +white paper hold very often more wonderful romances +than any in the Thousand Nights of story +telling.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span></div> +<p>Rahal’s and Thora’s anxiety was soon relieved. +A messenger from the warehouse came +quickly to the house, with a letter from Ragnor +to Rahal and a letter from Ian to Thora. Ragnor’s +letter said they had had a rough voyage +southward, the storm being in their faces all the +way to Leith. There they left the boat and took +a train for London, from which place they went +as quickly as possible to Spithead, fearing to miss +the ship sailing for the Crimea on the eleventh. +Ragnor said he had seen Ian safely away to Sebastopol +and observed that he was remarkably +cheerful and satisfied. He spoke then +of his own delight with London and regretted +that he had not made arrangements which +would permit him to stay a week or two longer +there.</p> +<p>Thora’s letter was a genuine love letter, for +Ian was deeply in love and everything he said +was in the superlative mood. Lovers like such +letters. They are to them the sacred writings. +It did not seem ridiculous to Thora to be called +“an angel of beauty and goodness, the rose of +womanhood, the lily on his heart, his star of hope, +the sunshine of his life,” and many other extravagant +impossibilities. She would have been disappointed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span> +if Ian had been more matter-of-fact and +reasonable.</p> +<p>So there was now comparative happiness in the +house of Ragnor, for though the master’s letters +were never much more than plain statements of +doings or circumstances, they satisfied Rahal. It +is not every man that knows how to write to a +woman, even if he loves her; but women have a +special divinity in reading love letters, and they +know beyond all doubting the worth of words as +affected by those who use them.</p> +<p>Ragnor gave himself a whole week in London +and before leaving that city for Edinburgh +he wrote a few lines home, saying he intended +to stay in London over the following Sabbath and +hear Canon Liddon preach. On Monday he would +reach Edinburgh and on Tuesday have an interview +with Dr. Macrae and then take the first boat +for home. They could now wait easily, the silence +had been broken, the weather was good, they +had “The History of Pendennis” and “David Copperfield” +to read, their little duties and little cares +to attend to, and they were not at all unhappy.</p> +<p>At length, the master was to be home <i>that</i> day. +If the wind was favourable, he might arrive about +two o’clock, but Rahal thought the boat would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +hardly manage it before three with the wind in her +teeth, or it might be nearer four. The house was +all ready for him, spick and span from roof to +cellar and a dinner of the good things he particularly +liked in careful preparation. And, after +all, he came a little earlier than was expected.</p> +<p>“Dear Conall,” said Rahal, “I have been +watching for thee, but I thought it would be four +o’clock, ere thou made Kirkwall.”</p> +<p>“Not with Donald Farquar sailing the boat. +The way he manages a boat is beyond reason.”</p> +<p>“How is that?”</p> +<p>“He talks to her, as if she was human. He +scolds and coaxes her and this morning he promised +to paint and gild her figurehead, if she got +into Kirkwall before three. Then every sailor +on board helped her and the wind changed a point +or two and that helped her, and now and then +Farquar pushed her on, with a good or bad word, +and she saved herself by just eleven minutes.”</p> +<p>“And how well thou art looking! Never have +I seen thee so handsome before, never! What +hast thou been doing to Conall Ragnor?”</p> +<p>“I will tell thee. When I had bid Ian good-bye, +I resolved to take a week’s holiday in London +and as I walked down the Strand, I noticed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +that every one looked at me, not unkindly but +curiously, and when I looked at the men who +looked at me, I saw we were different. I went +into a barber’s first, and had my hair cut like Londoners +wear it, short and smart, and not thick and +bushy, like mine was.”</p> +<p>“Well then, thy hair was far too long but they +have cut off all thy curls.”</p> +<p>“I like the wanting of them. They looked very +womanish. I’m a deal more purpose-like without +them. Then I went to a first-class tailor-man +and he fit me out with the suit I’m wearing. He +said it was ‘the correct thing for land or water.’ +What dost thou think of it?”</p> +<p>“Nothing could be more becoming to thee.”</p> +<p>“Nay then, I got a Sabbath Day suit that +shames this one. And I bought a church hat and +a soft hat that beats all, and kid gloves, and a +good walking stick with a fancy knob.”</p> +<p>“Thou art not needing a walking stick for +twenty years yet.”</p> +<p>“Well then, the English gentlemen always carries +a walking stick. I think they wouldn’t know +the way they were going without one. At last, +I went to the shoemakers, and he made me take +off my ‘Wellingtons.’ He said no one wore them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span> +now, and he shod me, as thou sees, very comfortably. +I like the change.”</p> +<p>Then they heard Thora calling them, and Ragnor +taking Rahal’s hand hastened to answer the +call. She was standing at the foot of the stairway, +and her father kissed her and as he did so +whispered––“All is well, dear one. After dinner, +I will tell thee.” Then he took her hand, and the +three in one went together to the round table, set +so pleasantly near to the comfortable fireside. +Standing there, hand-clasped, the master said those +few words of adoration and gratitude that turned +the white-spread board into a household altar. +Dinner was on the table and its delicious odours +filled the room and quickly set Ragnor talking.</p> +<p>“I will tell you now, what I saw in London,” +he said. “Ian is a story good enough to keep until +after dinner. I saw him sail away from Spithead, +and he went full of hope and pluck and sure of +success. Then I took the first train back to London. +I got lodgings in a nice little hotel in Norfolk +Street, just off the Strand, and London was +calling me all night long.”</p> +<p>“Thou could not see much, Father, in one +week,” said Thora.</p> +<p>“I saw the Queen and the Houses of Parliament, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span> +and I saw the Tower of London and Westminster +Abbey and the Crystal Palace. And I +have heard an oratorio, with a chorus of five hundred +voices and Sims Reeves as soloist. I have +been to Drury Lane, and the Strand Theatres, to +a big picture gallery, and a hippodrome. My +dear ones, the end of one pleasure was just the +beginning of another; in one week, I have lived +fifty years.”</p> +<p>Any one can understand how a new flavour +was added to the food they were eating by such +conversation. Not all the sauces in Christendom +could have made it so piquant and appetizing. +Ragnor carved and ate and talked, and Rahal and +Thora listened and laughed and asked endless +questions, and when the mind enters into a meal, +it not only prolongs, it also sweetens and brightens +it. I suppose there may be in every life two +or three festivals, that stand out from all others––small, +unlooked-for meetings, perhaps––where +love, hope, wonder and happy looking-forward, +made the food taste as if it had been cooked in +Paradise. Where, at least for a few hours, a +mortal might feel that man had been made only +a little lower than the angels.</p> +<p>Now, if any of my readers have such a memory, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span> +let them close the book, shut their eyes and +live it over again. It was probably a foretaste of +a future existence, where we shall have faculties +capable of fuller and higher pleasures; faculties +that without doubt “will be satisfied.” For in all +hearts that have suffered, there must abide the +conviction that the Future holds Compensation, +not Punishment.</p> +<p>But without forecast or remembrance, the Ragnors +that night enjoyed their highly mentalised +meal, and after it was over and the table set backward, +and the white hearth brushed free of ashes, +they drew around the fire, and Ragnor laid down +his pipe, and said:</p> +<p>“I left London last Monday, and I was in Edinburgh +until Wednesday morning. On Tuesday I +called on Dr. Macrae. I had a letter to give him +from Ian.”</p> +<p>“Why should Ian have written to him?” asked +Rahal, in a tone of disapproval.</p> +<p>“Because Ian has a good heart, he wrote to his +father. I read the letter. It was all right.”</p> +<p>“What then did he say to him?”</p> +<p>“Well, Rahal, he told his father that he was +leaving for the front, and he wished to leave with +his forgiveness and blessing, if he would give it to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +him. He said that he was sure that in their life-long +dispute he must often have been in the wrong, +and he asked forgiveness for all such lapses of +his duty. He told his father that he had a clear +plan of success before him, but said that in all +cases––fortunate or unfortunate––he would always +remember the name he bore and do nothing +to bring it shame or dishonour. A very good, +brave letter, dear ones. I give Ian credit for it.”</p> +<p>“Did thou advise him to write it?” asked Rahal.</p> +<p>“No, it sprang from his own heart.”</p> +<p>“Thou should not have sanctioned it.”</p> +<p>“Ian did right, Rahal. I did right to sanction +it.”</p> +<p>“Father, if Ian has a clear plan of success before +him, what is it? He ought to have told us.”</p> +<p>“He thought it out while we were at sea, he +asked me to explain the matter to you. It is, indeed, +a plan so simple and manifest, that I wonder +we did not propose it at the very first. You +must recollect that Ian was in the employ of Dr. +Finlay of Edinburgh for three years and a half, +and that during that period he acquired both a +large amount of medical knowledge and also of +medical experience. Now we all know that Ian +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +has a special gift for this science, especially for its +surgical side, and he is not going to the trenches +or the cavalry, he is going to offer himself to the +Surgical and Medical Corps. He will go to the +battlefield, carry off the wounded, give them first +help, or see them to the hospital. In this way he +will be doing constant good to others and yet be +forwarding the career which is to make his future +happy and honourable.”</p> +<p>“Then Ian has decided to be a surgeon, +Father?”</p> +<p>“Yes, and I can tell thee, Thora, he has not set +himself a task beyond his power. I think very +highly of Ian, no one could help doing so; and see +here, Thora! I have a letter in my pocket for +thee! He gave it to me as I bid him good-bye at +Spithead.”</p> +<p>“I am so happy, Father! So happy!”</p> +<p>“Thou hast good reason to be happy. We shall +all be proud of Ian in good time.”</p> +<p>“Did thou give Ian’s letter to his father’s +hands, or did thou mail it, Coll?”</p> +<p>“I gave it to him, personally.”</p> +<p>“What was thy first impression of him?”</p> +<p>“He gave me first of all an ecclesiastical impression. +I just naturally looked for a gown or surplice. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span> +He wanted something without one. He +met me coldly but courteously, and taking Ian’s +letter from me, placed it deliberately upon a +pile of letters lying on his desk. I said, ‘It is +from thy son, Doctor, perhaps thou had better +read it at once. It is a good letter, sir, read +it.’</p> +<p>“He bowed, and asked if Ian was with me. +I said, ‘No, sir, he is on his way to Scutari.’ Then +he was silent. After a few moments he asked me +if I had been in Edinburgh during the past Sabbath. +‘You should have been here,’ he added, +‘then you could have heard the great Dr. Chalmers +preach.’ I told him that I had spent that +never-to-be-forgotten Sabbath under the blessed +dome of St. Paul’s in London. I said something +about the transcending beauty of the wonderful +music of the cathedral service, and spoke with delight +of the majestic nave, filled with mediæval +rush-bottomed chairs for the worshippers, and I +told him how much more fitting they were in the +House of God than pews.” And Ragnor uttered +the last word with a new-found emphasis. “He +asked, quite scornfully, in what sense I found them +more fitting, and I answered rather warmly––‘Why, +sir, sitting together in chairs, we felt so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +much more at home. We were like one great family +in our Father’s house.’”</p> +<p>“Are the chairs rented?” asked Rahal.</p> +<p>“Rented!” cried Ragnor scornfully. “No, indeed! +There are no dear chairs and no cheap +chairs, all are equal and all are free. I never felt +so like worshipping in a church before. The religious +spirit had free way in our midst.”</p> +<p>“What did Macrae say?”</p> +<p>“He said, he supposed the rush chairs were an +‘Armenian innovation’; and I answered, ‘The +pews, sir, they are the innovation.’”</p> +<p>“Did thou have any argument with him? I +have often heard Ian say he plunged into religious +argument with every one he met.”</p> +<p>“Well, Rahal, I don’t know how it happened, +but I quickly found myself in a good atmosphere +of contradictions. I do not remember either what +I had been saying, but I heard him distinctly assert, +that ‘it was the Armenians who had described +the Calvinists, and they had not wasted their opportunities.’ +Then I found myself telling him that +Armenianism had ruled the religious world ever +since the birth of Christianity; but that Calvinism +was a thing of yesterday, a mere Geneva opinion. +Rahal, the man has a dogma for a soul, and yet +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span> +through this hard veil, I could see that he was +full of a longing for love; but he has not found out +the way to love, his heart is ice-bound. He made +me say things I did not want to say, he stirred my +soul round and round until it boiled over, and +then the words would come. Really, Rahal, I +did not know the words were in my mind, till +his aggravating questions made me say them.”</p> +<p>“What words? Art thou troubled about +them?”</p> +<p>“A little. He was talking of faith and doubt, +especially as it referred to the Bible, and I listened +until I could bear it no longer. He was asking +what proof there was for this, and that, and +the other, and as I said, he got me stirred up beyond +myself and I told him I cared nothing about +proofs. I said proofs were for sceptics and not +for good men who <i>knew</i> in whom they had believed.”</p> +<p>“Well then, Coll, that was enough, was it not?”</p> +<p>“Not for Macrae. He said immediately, ‘Suppose +there was no divine authority for the scheme +of morals and divinity laid down in this Book,’ +and he laid his hand reverently on the Bible, +‘where should we be?’ And I told him, we should +be just where we were, because God’s commands +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span> +were written on every conscience and that these +commands would stand firm even if creeds became +dust, and Matthew, Mark, Luke, John and Paul, +all failed and passed away. ‘Power of God!’ I +cried, as I struck the table with my fist, ‘it takes +God’s tireless, patient, eternal love to put up with +puny men, always doubting Him. I believe in +God the Father Almighty, the Maker of heaven +and earth!’ I said, ‘and I want no proofs about +Him in whom I believe.’ By this time, Rahal, he +had me on fire. I was ready to deny anything he +asserted, especially about hell, for thou knows, +Rahal, that there are hells in this world and no +worse needed. So when he asked if I believed in +the Calvinistic idea of hell, I answered, ‘I deny +it! My soul denies it––utterly!’ I reminded him +that God spoke to Dives in hell and called him son +and that Dives, even there, clung to the fatherhood +of God. And I told him this world was a +hell to those who deserved hell, and a place of +much trial to most men and women, and I thought +it was poor comfort to preach to such, that the +next world was worse. There now! I have told +you enough. He asked me to lunch with him, and +I did; and I told him as we ate, what a fine fellow +Ian was, and he listened and was silent.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span></div> +<p>“Then you saw Ian’s mother and sister?” asked +Thora.</p> +<p>“No, I did not. They had gone for the winter +to the Bridge of Allan. Mrs. Macrae is sick, +her husband seemed unhappy about her.”</p> +<p>Rahal hoped now that her home would settle +itself into its usual calm, methodical order. She +strove to give to every hour its long accustomed +duty, and to infuse an atmosphere of rest and of +“use and wont” into every day’s affairs. It was +impossible. The master of the house had suffered +a world change. He had tasted of strange pleasures +and enthusiasms, and was secretly planning a +life totally at variance with his long accustomed +routine and responsibilities. He did not speak +of the things in his heart but nevertheless they +escaped him.</p> +<p>Very soon he began to have much more regular +communication with his sons in Shetland, and +finally he told Rahal that he intended taking his +son Robert into partnership. Such changes grew +slowly in Ragnor’s mind, and much more slowly +in practice, but Rahal knew that they were steadily +working to some ultimate, and already definite +and determined end in her husband’s will.</p> +<p>The absent also exerted a far greater power +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +upon the home than any one believed. Ian’s letters +came with persistent regularity, and the influence +of one was hardly spent, when another arrived +of quite a different character. Ian was rapidly +realizing his hopes. He had been gladly +taken into a surgical corps, under the charge of a +Doctor Frazer, and his life was a continual drama +of stirring events. Generally he wrote between actions, +and then he described the gallant young men +resting on the slopes of the beleaguered hill, with +their weapons at their finger tips, but always cheerful. +Sometimes he spoke of them under terrible +fire in their life-or-death push forward, followed +by the surgeons and stretcher-bearers. Sometimes, +he had been to the trenches to dress a wound that +would not stop bleeding, but always he wondered +at seeing the resolute grit and calmness of these +young men, who had been the dandies in London +drawing-rooms a year ago and who were now +smoking placidly in the trenches at Redan.</p> +<p>“What is it?” he asked an old surgeon, on +whom he was waiting. “Is it recklessness?”</p> +<p>“No, sir!” was the answer. “It is straight +courage. Courage in the blood. Courage nourished +on their mother’s milk. Courage educated +into them at Eton or Rugby, in many a fight and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span> +scuffle. Courage that lived with them night and +day at Oxford or Cambridge, and that made them +choose danger and death rather than be known +for one moment as a cad or a coward. It was +dancing last year. It is fighting in a proper quarrel +this year. Different duties, that is all.”</p> +<p>Every now and then Sunna dropped them letters +about which there was much pleasant speculating, +for as the summer came forward, she began +to accept the disappointments made by the +death of Boris, and to consider what possibilities +of life were still within her power. She said in +May that “she was sick and weary of everything +about Sebastopol, and that she wanted to go back +to Scotland, far more frantically than she ever +wanted to leave it.” In June, she said, she had +got her grandfather to listen to reason, but had +been forced to cry for what she wanted, a humiliation +beyond all apologies.</p> +<p>Her next letter was written in Edinburgh, +where she declared she intended to stay for some +time. Maximus Grant was in Edinburgh with +his little brother, who was under the care and +treatment of an eminent surgeon living there. +“The poor little laddie is dying,” she said, “but +I am able to help him over many bad hours, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span> +Max is not half-bad, that is, he might be worse if +left to himself. Heigh-ho! What varieties of +men, and varieties of their trials, poor women +have to put up with!”</p> +<p>As the year advanced Sunna’s letters grew +bright and more and more like her, and she described +with admirable imitative piquancy the literary +atmosphere and conversation which is Edinburgh’s +native air. In the month of November, +little Eric went away suddenly, in a paroxysm of +military enthusiasm, dying literally the death of a +soldier “with tumult, with shouting, and with the +sound of the trumpets,” in his soul’s hearing.</p> +<p>“We adored him,” wrote Sunna, in her most +fervent religious mood, which was just as sincere +as any other mood. “He was such a loving, clever +little soul, and he lay so long within the hollow of +Death’s sickle. There he heard and saw wonderful +things, that I would not dare to speak of. +Max has wept very sincerely. It is my lot apparently, +to administer drops of comfort to him. +In this world, I find that women can neither hide +nor run away from men and their troubles, the +moment anything goes wrong with them, they fly +to some woman and throw their calamity on her.”</p> +<p>“It is easy to see which way Sunna is drifting,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +said Rahal, after this letter had been read. “She +will marry Maximus Grant, of course.”</p> +<p>“Mother, her grandfather wishes that marriage. +It is very suitable. His silent, masterful +way will cure Sunna’s faults.”</p> +<p>“It will do nothing of the kind. What the +cradle rocks, the spade buries. If Sunna lives to +be one hundred years old––a thing not unlikely––she +will be Sunna. Just Sunna.”</p> +<p>During all this summer, Ragnor was deeply +engrossed in his business, and the Vedders remained +in Edinburgh, as did also Mistress Brodie, +though she had had all the best rooms in her +Kirkwall house redecorated. “It is her hesitation +about grandfather. She will, and she won’t,” +wrote Sunna, “and she keeps grandfather hanging +by a hair.” Then she made a few scornful remarks +about “the hesitating <i>liaisons</i> of old women” +and concluded that it all depended upon the +marriage ceremony.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Grandfather [she wrote] wants to sneak into some +out of the way little church, and get the business over +as quickly and quietly as possible; and Mistress Brodie +has dreams of a peach-bloom satin gown, and a white +lace bonnet. She thought “that was enough for a +second affair”; and when I gently hoped that it was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span> +at least an affair of the heart, she said with a distinct +snap, “Don’t be impertinent, Miss!” However, all this +is but the overture to the great matrimonial drama, and +it is rather interesting.</p> +<p>I saw by a late London paper that Thora’s lover has +gone and got himself decorated, or crossed, for doing +some dare-devil sort of thing about wounded men. I +wonder how Thora will like to walk on Pall Mall with +a man who wears a star or a medal on his breast. Such +things make women feel small. For, of course, we +could win stars and medals if we had the chance. +Max considers Ian “highly praise-worthy.” Max +lately has a way of talking in two or three syllables. I +am trying to remember where I left my last spelling +book; I fear I shall have to get up my orthography.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The whole of this year A. D. 1855 was one of +commonplaces stirred by tragic events. It is this +conjunction that makes the most prosaic of lives +always a story. It only taught Thora and Rahal +to make the most of such pleasures as were within +their reach. In the evening Ragnor was always +ready to share what they had to offer, but in the +daytime he was getting his business into such perfect +condition that he could leave it safely in +charge of his son Robert for a year, or more, if +that was his wish.</p> +<p>On the second of March, the Czar Nicholas +died, and there was good hope in that removal. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span> +In June, General Raglan died of cholera, and on +the following fifth of September, the Russians, +finding they could no longer defend Sebastopol, +blew up its defences and also its two immense +magazines of munitions. This explosion was terrific, +the very earth appeared to reel. The town +they deliberately set on fire. Then on Sunday +morning, September the ninth, the English and +French took possession of the great fortress, +though it was not until the last day of February, +A. D. 1856, that the treaty of peace was +signed.</p> +<p>After the occupation of Sebastopol, however, +there was a cessation of hostilities, and the hospitals +rapidly began to empty and the physicians and +surgeons to return home. Dr. Frazer remained at +his post till near Christmas, and was then able +to leave the few cases remaining in the charge of +competent nurses. Ian remained at his side and +they returned to England together. It was then +within a few days of Christmas, and Ian hastened +northward without delay.</p> +<p>There was no hesitating welcome for him now; +he was met by the truest and warmest affection, he +was cheerfully given the honour which he had +faithfully won. And the wedding day was no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span> +longer delayed, it was joyfully hastened forward. +Bishop Hedley, the Vedders and Maximus Grant +had already arrived and the little town was all +agog and eager for the delayed ceremony. Sunna +had brought with her Thora’s new wedding dress +and the day had been finally set for the first of +January.</p> +<p>“Thou will begin a fresh life with a fresh +year,” said Rahal to her daughter. “A year on +which, as yet, no tears have fallen; and which has +not known care or crossed purpose. On its first +page thou will write thy marriage joy and thy +new hopes, and the light of a perfect love will be +over it.”</p> +<p>In the meantime life was full of new delights +to Thora. Wonderful things were happening to +her every day. The wedding dress was here. +Adam Vedder had brought her a pretty silver tea +service, Aunt Barbie––now Madame Vedder––had +remembered her in many of those womanwise +ways, that delight the heart of youth. Even Dominie +Macrae had sent her a gold watch, and the +little sister-in-law had chosen for her gift some +very pretty laces. Rich and poor alike brought +her their good-will offerings, and many old Norse +awmries were ransacked in the search for jewels +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span> +or ornaments of the jade stone, which all held as +“luck beyond breaking.”</p> +<p>The present which pleased Thora most of all +was a new wedding-dress, the gift of her mother. +The rich ivory satin was perfect and peerless in its +exquisite fit and simplicity; jewels, nor yet lace, +could have added nothing to it. Sunna had +brought it with her own toilet. In fact, she was +ready to make a special sensation with it on the +first of January, for her wedding garment as +Thora’s bridesmaid was nothing less than a robe +of gold and white shot silk, worn over a hoop. +She had been wearing a hoop all winter in Edinburgh, +but she was quite sure she would be the +first “hooped lady” to appear in Kirkwall town. +Thora might wear the bride veil, with its wreath +of myrtle and rosemary, but she had a pleasant +little laugh, as she mentally saw herself in the +balloon of white and gold shot silk, walking majestically +up the nave of St. Magnus. It was so +long since hoops had been worn. None of the +present generation of Kirkwall women could ever +have seen a lady in a hoop, and behind the present +generation there was no likelihood of any +hooped ladies in Kirkwall.</p> +<p>Thora had no hoop. Her orders had been positively +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span> +against it and unless Madame Vedder had +slipped inside “the bell” she could not imagine any +rival. As she made this reflection, she smiled, +and then translated the smile into the thought, “If +she has, she will look like a haystack.”</p> +<p>Now Ian’s military suit in his department had +been of white duff or linen, plentifully adorned +with gilt buttons and bands representing some distinctive +service. It was the secret desire of Ian +to wear this suit, and he rather felt that Thora or +his mother-in-law should ask him to do so. For +he knew that its whiteness and gilt, and tiny knots +of ribbon, gave to the wearer that military air, +which all men yearn a little after. He wished to +wear it on his wedding day but Thora had not +thought of it, neither had Sunna. However, on +the 29th, Rahal, that kind, wise woman, asked +him as a special favour, to wear his medical uniform. +She said, “the townsfolk would be so disappointed +with black broadcloth and a pearl-grey +waistcoat. They longed to see him as he went +onto the battlefield, to save or succour the +wounded.”</p> +<p>“But, Mother,” he answered, “I went in the +plainest linen suit to bring in the wounded and +dying.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span></div> +<p>“I know, dear one, but they do not know, and +it is not worth while destroying an innocent illusion, +we have so few of them as we grow old.”</p> +<p>“Very well, Mother, it shall be as you wish.”</p> +<p>“Of course Ian wished to wear it,” said Sunna.</p> +<p>“Oh, Sunna, you must not judge all men from +Max.”</p> +<p>“I am far from that folly. Your father has +been watching the winds and the clouds all day. +So have I. Conall Ragnor is always picturesque, +even poetical. I feel safe if I follow him. He +says it will be fine tomorrow. I hope so!”</p> +<p>This hope was more than justified. It was a +day of sunshine and little wandering south winds, +and the procession was a fact. Now Ragnor +knew that this marriage procession, as a national +custom, was passing away, but it had added its +friendliness to his own and all his sons’ and daughters’ +weddings and he wanted Thora’s marriage +ceremonial to include it. “When thou art an old +woman, Thora,” he said to her, “then thou wilt +be glad to have remembered it.”</p> +<p>At length the New Year dawned and the day +arrived. All was ready for it. There was no +hurry, no fret, no uncertainty. Thora rode to +the cathedral in the Vedder’s closed carriage with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span> +her father and mother. Ian was with Maximus +and Sunna in the Galt landeau. Adam Vedder and +his bride rode together in their open Victoria and +all were ready as the clock struck ten. Then a +little band of stringed instruments and young men +took their place as leaders of the procession, and +when they started joyfully “Room for the Bride!” +the carriages took the places assigned them and +about two hundred men and women, who had +gathered at the Ragnor House, followed in procession, +many joining in the singing.</p> +<p>The cathedral was crowded when they reached +it, and Dr. Hedley in white robes came forward +to meet the bride and, with smiles and loving good +will, to unite her forever to the choice of her soul.</p> +<p>It was almost a musical marriage. Melody began +and followed and closed the whole ceremonial. +About twenty returned with the bridal party +to the Ragnor House to eat the bridal dinner, but +the general townsfolk were to have their feast and +dance in the Town Hall about seven in the evening. +The Bishop stayed only to bless the meal, +for the boat was waiting that was to carry him to +a Convocation of the Church then sitting in Edinburgh. +But he wore his sprig of rosemary on his +vest, and he stood at Ragnor’s right hand and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span> +watched him mix the Bride Cup, watched him +mingle in one large silver bowl of pre-Christian +age the pale, delicious sherry and fine sugar and +spices and stir the whole with a strip of rosemary. +Then every guest stood up and was served +with a cup, most of them having in their hand a +strip of rosemary to stir it with. And after the +Bishop had blessed the bride and blessed the bridegroom, +he said, “I will quote for you a passage +from an old sermon and after it, you will stir your +cup again with rosemary and grow it still more +plentifully in your gardens.</p> +<p>“The rosemary is for married men and man +challengeth it, as belonging properly to himself. +It helpeth the brain, strengtheneth the memory, +and affects kindly the heart. Let this flower of +man ensign your wisdom, love and loyalty, and +carry it, not only in your hands, but in your heads +and hearts.” Then he lifted his glass and stirred +the wine with his strip of rosemary, and as he did +so all followed his example, while he repeated +from an old romance the following lines:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>... “Before we divide,<br /> +Let us dip our rosemaries<br /> +In one rich bowl of wine, to this brave girl<br /> +And to the gentleman.”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span></div> +<p>With these words he departed, and the utmost +and happiest interchange of all kinds of good fellowship +followed. Every man and woman was at +perfect ease and ready to give of the best they +had. Even Adam Vedder delighted all, and especially +his happy-looking bride, by his clever condensation +of Sunna’s favourite story of “The +Banded Men.” No finished actor could have made +it, in its own way, a finer model of dramatic narrative, +especially in its quaint reversal of the parts +usually played by father and son, into those of +the prodigal father and the money-loving, prudent +son. Then a little whisper went round the table +and it sprang from Sunna, and people smiled and +remembered that Adam had won his wife from +three younger men than himself and, as if by a +single, solid impulse, they stirred their wine cups +once more and called for a cheer for the old bridegroom, +who had been faithful for forty years to +his first love and had then walked off with her, +from Provost, Lawyer and Minister; all of them +twenty years younger than himself.</p> +<p>Getting near to three o’clock, they began to sing +and Rahal was pleased to hear that sound of +peace, for several guests were just from the battlefield +and quite as ready for a quarrel as a song. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span> +Also during the little confusion of removing fruit +and cake and glasses, and the substitution of the +cups and saucers and the strong, hot, sweet tea +that every Norseman loves, Ian and Thora slipped +away without notice. Max Grant’s carriage put +them in half-an-hour on the threshold of their own +home. They crossed it hand and hand and Ian +kissed the hand he held and Thora raised her face +in answer; but words have not yet been invented +that can speak for such perfect happiness.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Love is rich in his own right,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>He is heir of all the spheres,<br /> +In his service day and night<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Swing the tides and roll the years.<br /> +What has he to ask of fate?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Crown him, glad or desolate.<br /> +<br /> +Time puts out all other flames<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>But the glory of his eyes;<br /> +His are all the sacred names,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>His the solemn mysteries.<br /> +Crown him! In his darkest day<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>He has Heaven to give away!</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>Ian’s business arrangements curtailed the length +of any festivity in relation to the marriage. He +had already signed an agreement with Dr. Frazer +to return to him as soon as possible after the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span> +twelfth day and remain as his assistant until he +was fully authenticated a surgeon by the proper +schools. In the meantime he would enter the +London School of Medicine and Surgery and give +to Dr. Frazer all the time not demanded by its +hours and exercises. For this attention Ian was +to receive from Dr. Frazer one hundred pounds +a year. Furthermore, when Ian had received the +proper authority to call himself Dr. John Macrae, +he was to have the offer of a partnership with Dr. +Frazer, on what were considered very favourable +terms.</p> +<p>So their little romance was at last happily over. +Ian was an infinitely finer and nobler man. He +had dwelt amid great acts and great suffering for +a year and had not visited the House of Mourning +in vain. All that was light and trifling had +fallen away from him. He regarded his life and +talents now as a great and solemn charge and was +resolved to make them of use to his fellows. And +Thora was lovelier than she had ever been. She +had learned self-restraint and she had hoped +through evil days, till good days came; so then, +she knew how to look for good when all appeared +wrong and by faith and will, bring good out of +evil.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span></div> +<p>After Thora and her husband left for London +a great change took place in the Ragnor home. +Ragnor had been preparing for it ever since his +visit to London and, within a month, Robert Ragnor +and his wife and family came from Shetland +and took possession. It gave Rahal a little pain +to see any woman in her place but that was nothing, +she was going to give her dear Coll the dream +of his life. She was going to travel with him, and +see all the civilized countries in the world! She +was going to London first, and last, of all!</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_SEQUENCES' id='CHAPTER_XI_SEQUENCES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>SEQUENCES</h3> +</div> +<p class='dropcap'><span class="dcap">Not</span> long ago I found in a list of Orkney and +Shetland literature several volumes by a +Conall Ragnor, two of them poetry. But that just +tended to certify a suspicion. Sixty years ago I +had heard him repeat some Gallic poems and had +known instinctively, though only a girl of eighteen, +that the man was a poet.</p> +<p>It roused in me a curiosity I felt it would be +pleasant to gratify, and so a little while after I +began this story, I wrote to a London newspaper +man and asked him to send me some of his Orkney +exchanges. I have a habit of trusting newspaper +editors and I found this one as I expected, +willing and obliging. He sent me two Orkney +papers and the first thing I noticed was the prevalence +of the old names. Among them I saw Mrs. +Max Grant, and I thought I would write to her +and take my chance of the lady turning out to be +the old Sunna Vedder. It was quite a possibility, +as we were apparently about the same age when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span> +I saw her. It was only for an hour or two in +the evening we met, at the Ragnor house, but +girls see a deal in an hour or two and if I remembered +her, she had doubtless chronicled an opinion +of me.</p> +<p>In about five weeks Mrs. Grant’s letter in answer +to mine arrived. She began it by saying +she remembered me, because I wore a hat, a sailor’s +hat, and she said it was the first hat she ever +saw on a woman’s head. She said also, that I +told her women were beginning to wear them for +shopping and walking and driving, or out at sea, +but never for church or visiting. All of which +I doubtless said, for it was my first hat. And I +do not remember women wearing hats at all until +about this time.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>I suppose [she continued] thou wants to know first +of all about the Vedders. They were <i>the</i> people then, +and they have not grown a bit smaller, nor do they +think any less of themselves yet. My grandfather +married again and was not sorry for it. I don’t know +whether his wife was sorry or not. I took Maximus +Grant for a husband for, after Boris Ragnor died, I +did not care who I took, provided he had plenty of +good qualities and plenty of gold. We lived together +thirty years very respectably. I took my way and I +usually expected him to do the same. We had four +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span> +sons, and they have nine sons among them, and all of +the nine are now fighting the vipers they have been +coddling for forty or fifty years. Some are in the +regular army, some in the navy, and some in the +plucky, fighting little navy, patrolling England and +her brood of coastwise islands. They are a tough, +rough, hard lot, but I love them all better than anything +else in this world. There are a good many Vedder +houses in Orkney, and they are all full of little +squabbling, fighting, never clean, and never properly +dressed little brats, from four to eleven years old. So +I don’t worry about there being Vedders enough to +run things the way they want them run.</p> +<p>The Ragnors are here in plenty. All the men are at +the war, all the women running fishing boats or keeping +general shops, to which I like to see the Germans +going. They are told what kind of people they are +as they walk up to the shops; and they get what they +want at an impoverishing price. Serve them right! +Men, however, will pay any money for a thing they +want.</p> +<p>There has not been such good times in Orkney since +I was born, as there is now. We have an enemy to +beat in trade and an enemy to beat in fight at our +very doors, and our men are neither to hold nor to bind, +they are that top-lofty. War is a man’s native air. My +sons and grandsons are all two inches taller than they +were and they defy Nature to contradict them. I +never attempt it. Well, then, they are proper men in +all things, a little hard to deal with and masterful, but +just as I wish them. My grandfather died fifty years +ago, he might have lived longer if he had not married. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span> +His widow wept in the deepest black and people +thought she was sorry.</p> +<p>The Ragnors are mostly here and in Shetland. Conall +Ragnor never really settled down again. Rahal and +he lived in Edinburgh or London, when not travelling. +I heard that Conall wrote books and really got money +for them. I cannot believe that. Rahal died first. +Conall lived a month after her. They were laid in +earth in Stromness Church-yard. My grandfather +wanted to bring the body of Boris home and bury it in +Stromness, and I would not let him. He is all mine +where he sleeps in the Crimea. I don’t want him +among a congregation of his brothers and sisters and +uncles and aunts.</p> +<hr class='mini' /> +<p>I suppose thou must have heard of Thora’s husband. +He really did become famous, and I was told his father +forgave him all his youthful follies. It was said Thora +managed that in some clever way; but I’m sure I don’t +know what to say. Thora never seemed at all clever +to me. She had many children, but she died long ago, +though she did live long enough to see her husband +knighted and her eldest boy marry the daughter of a +lord. I have no doubt she was happy in her own way, +only she never did dress herself as a person in the best +society ought to have done. I once told her so. “Well, +then,” she said, “I dress to please my husband.” Imagine +such simplicity! As to myself I am getting near +to ninety, but I live a good life and God helps me. I +have kept my fine hair and complexion and I run +around on my little errands quite comfortably. Indeed +I am sunwise able for everything I want. I +shall be glad to hear from thee again, and if thou wilt +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span> +send me occasionally some of those delightful American +papers, thou wilt make me much thy debtor. Also, +I want thee to tell all the brave young Americans thou +knows that if they would like a real life on the ocean +wave, they ought to join our wonderful patrol round +the English coast. They will learn more and see +more and feel more in a month, in this little interfering +navy, than they’d learn in a lifetime in a first-class +man-of-war.</p> +<p>Write to me again and then we shall have tied our +friendship with a three-fold letter. Thine, with all +good will and wishes,</p> +<p class='ralign'><span class='smcap'>Sunna Vedder Grant.</span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>This is a woman’s letter and it must have a +postscript. It is only two lines of John Stuart +Blackie’s, and it should have been at the beginning, +but it will touch your heart at the end as well +as at the beginning.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Oh, for a breath of the great North Sea,<br /> +Girdling the mountains!”<br /></p> +<p class='ralign cg'>S. V. G.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class="trnote"> +<p><b>Transcriber Notes</b></p> +<p>Fixed probable typos.</p> +<p>Hyphenation standardized.</p> +<p>Archaic and variable spelling is preserved.</p> +<p>Author’s punctuation style is preserved, except quote marks, which have been standardized.</p> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: ppg0811 --> +<!-- timestamp: Fri Aug 21 20:00:50 -0400 2009 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's An Orkney Maid, by Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ORKNEY MAID *** + +***** This file should be named 29752-h.htm or 29752-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/7/5/29752/ + +Produced by Katherine Ward and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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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